His lips trailed down her cheek. Under the line of her jaw. Just lips and tongue, kissing, licking, caressing. No teeth. No pain.
“Trust me,” he breathed the words against her and the fear began to give way once more to the need and the lust that tightened her body. “Let me show you what I’m like.”
Her nails stopped digging into his chest. Her fingers curled over his shoulders, the better to pull closer, not to push away.
His head lifted and those blazing blue eyes stared into hers. “Trust me,” he said again.
His mouth took hers. A hot, open-mouthed kiss of hunger and lust. Of need and—
His c**k pushed into her. Not a hard, slamming thrust. A gentle drive of thick, strong flesh, a glide that sent his c**k sliding over her clit, making her arch and gasp beneath him.
“Better,” he whispered against her lips.
And it was. He was. The past disappeared as he withdrew. His fingers pushed between them, found the center of her desire, teased, pressed—
He thrust. A little harder this time, a little deeper.
Just right.
Again. Again.
His fingers touched, stroked, knew just where she needed him. His c**k filled her, so heavy and thick, and her sex clamped greedily around him as the lust built and built.
His mouth was on hers again. Tongue thrusting. Tasting, taking, even as his body took hers.
He was all she could see, everything she felt. Her sex strained around him, the pleasure pressing close again, and when his c**k drove into her, a plunge that stole her breath—Sarah came, gasping, body shuddering, as the release blasted through her.
He kept thrusting. Faster now, deeper. Harder. The pleasure shook her body, had her heart racing as the drumming filled her ears.
She stared up at him, the taut lines of his face, those eyes . . .
His jaw was clenched, his muscles bulging.
Sarah wrapped her legs around him and held him tighter.
Then she saw the wild rush of pleasure in his eyes as he came. Lucas thrust deep and stiffened against her. His hands caught hers. His c**k jerked inside her with the hard jet of his release.
And he never looked away from her gaze.
Man, not beast.
No, both. But with Lucas, the man was in control.
His lips brushed hers. She kissed him, closing her eyes. Dammit, why did it have to be like this? A man of power, a man that she might truly be able to trust, and a man that she was deceiving.
What would happen when he found out the truth?
His lips broke from hers, and he searched her gaze.
There’d be no running from him.
“You trust me.” No question from Lucas. Just a statement now.
“Yes.” And it was the truth. But please, don’t trust me. Whatever you do . . . don’t trust me.
Because sooner or later, she’d have to betray him. Life could be such a bitch sometimes.
Chapter 8
Lucas’s eyes opened the instant he heard the light scratch on the door. He turned at once, and his gaze landed on Sarah.
Sarah.
What in the hell was he going to do with her? Careless, mind-numbing sex was one thing—but not what he’d had with her.
She’d been afraid. He’d had other lovers who were afraid. Others who sensed the beast he kept chained, but had still wanted the wild ride in the darkness.
Sarah had been different. Wanting him despite the fear. And the damn thing was . . . of all his lovers, he’d expected her to fear the least.
The woman talked to wolves. She knew them. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she knew just how strong the beast inside could be, particularly when he wanted something.
Rafe had hurt her. He’d seen that truth in her gaze. I’ve only had one wolf lover.
One who’d taught her to fear a shifter’s touch.
The scratch at the door came again. Shit. Caleb. He’d sent the shifter to make contact with Dane and to get a report on the coyotes.
He needed to go, but . . . his gaze turned to Sarah once more, just as she rolled onto her stomach. Her sheet dipped with her movement, and he saw the sexy curve of her spine, and the long, still-pink scars that marred the flesh on her lower back.
Lucas didn’t make a sound. Didn’t snarl. Didn’t howl with the sudden fury inside him. His hand reached toward her, his claws springing forth, and he didn’t feel the tear of his flesh.
His hand hovered over those lines. A perfect match. But then, there really was no mistaking clawmarks on a woman’s body.
No f**king wonder she feared me.
He leaned in close to her. Didn’t touch her. Couldn’t, not then, because the beast was far too angry then. “He’s dead,” he whispered the words in her ear.
Sarah stiffened. “Wh—”
“And I’m gonna make damn sure the bastard suffers before I put him out of his misery.”
She glanced back at him, her eyes wide, her lips still red from his kiss. “Lucas, I need to—”
He rolled away from her. “Get some sleep.” If he stayed . . . no. Fuck, no. “I’m going for a run.” Because the beast was howling inside.
The bedcovers rustled behind him. “No! Wait, Lucas! We’ve got to talk.”
“Not now.” No time. He glanced down and saw that his claws were still out. Claws just like the ones that had ripped into her skin.
I’ll rip him open.
Her hand grabbed his arm. “Oh, what, you got what you wanted, so now you’re—”
Her touch burned through him. “I’m in the mood to f**k or kill.”
Silence.
He glanced back at her. “I don’t think you want to be touching me now.” The beast would be staring at her from his eyes, he knew that. And she feared the beast.
Sarah swallowed, but she didn’t drop her hand. “It’s because of the scars.”
The wolf clawed inside, desperate to be free.
Her gaze dropped to his hands, yeah, right to those claws. Razor-sharp. Perfect for tearing flesh.
“Were your claws out during sex?” She shook her head, a frown between her eyes. “I didn’t even notice. I should have, but . . .” Her gaze rose back to his. “I didn’t notice.” There was shock in her voice.
Should he tell her the truth? Lie? Fuck it. “They were out.” It had taken all his damn strength to keep a stranglehold on the beast. Fighting or f**king—the wolf liked both. Sarah would know that, though.
She had the marks to prove it.
Her lips parted.
He stepped away from her, breaking her hold. The wolf wanted out.
“We have to talk,” she told him again. “There are things you don’t know about me.”