Claiming the Moon (2 page)

Dropping her things on the desk, she considered finding a meal, but her stomach rolled at the idea. Her body wasn’t up to that yet. She lay down and closed her eyes, almost afraid to test the theory that when she did, she’d see the attacker again. But it wasn’t his image that rose in her mind. With a groan, she got up. Clint wouldn’t leave her alone, and he wasn’t even aware of it.

She hesitated over her bag. In a moment of insanity back at her condo, she’d dropped a vibrating egg in it. She considered using it now, desperately needing the sexual release, but she hesitated. There were too many werewolves with superior hearing and sense of smell in the house. They already looked at her with pity whenever Clint’s name came up. Their knowing she had no choice but to get herself off would be the final humiliation. But she couldn’t stay up here alone. The longer she did, the more tempted she became.

Maybe some company would help distract her. She left the room and went back downstairs, but paused outside Anthony’s door. It wasn’t closed all the way, so she caught his part of the conversation.

“Just thought you’d like to know that while you’re busy being self-righteous in Tennessee, your mate was attacked, asshole. Ellen is an incredible woman. I have no idea why you refuse to see that. But this shit is putting her in danger now.”

There was a long pause while she presumed Clint answered. She leaned back against the wall and put a chokehold on her anger. At Clint. At Anthony for calling him.
The hell with this
. She barged in, stopped in front of the desk, and held her hand out for the phone. He cocked an eyebrow at her silent, imperious demand but handed it over.

“Damn it, Anthony, answer me. I left her there to keep her safe.”

“She’s perfectly capable of keeping herself safe,” she said icily. “Which you would know if you were around.”

His tone changed, softened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” No gentleness returned in her voice.

He sighed. “Put Anthony back on.”

“Why? For some reason he thought you should be informed. Consider that done.”

“’Cause I want to ream him a new—” he bit the words off, and she almost laughed, barely holding in the bitter response. His concern for her welfare didn’t generally go beyond keeping her away from him.

“Thankfully, you’re not here, so that’s not possible.”

“I’ll be there in a few hours.”

She felt as if he’d reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. It was painful. “Don’t bother. We have everything under control.”

“I’m coming. And don’t even think about taking off on your own, Ellen,” he warned.

She scowled. How the hell did he always seem to know what she was thinking? “Fine. Suit yourself. But you’re wasting your time.”

She heard a dinging sound, like a car door was open, and knew he really was coming. The knowledge filled her with a mixture of dread and hope, anxiety and anticipation.
Shit
. She had to get control of herself, had to be calm and resolute when he arrived. Otherwise, she’d do what she always did. Let her guard down, let her heart soften toward him again, only to be left alone to put the broken pieces back together. She tossed the phone to Anthony and spun on her heel, fleeing the room before the tears started.

* * * * *

Clint was in the grip of the worst rage of his life and thanked god when he finally crossed the state line. Twenty miles closer to Ellen. Twenty miles closer to keeping her safe while struggling to keep her at a distance. The idea infuriated the wolf half of his nature, and he knew it was going to be damned near impossible to restrain it, to leave her unclaimed.

He gritted his teeth, and his knuckles popped because he clenched the steering wheel so hard. He’d managed it for years by keeping his distance. If he didn’t have to see her every day, it could be done.

He hardened his resolve. She thought he was still resisting because of the age difference, but he’d gotten over that years ago. The truth was darker. Dirtier. He knew he couldn’t live with her one day turning and looking at him with revulsion, and it would happen. Mates didn’t keep secrets from each other. She knew he’d been the one to infiltrate the Society of rogues they hunted. She didn’t know that he’d had to become one of them to do it.

After thirty interminable minutes, he pulled up to the gate and punched in the security code. Tapping the steering wheel, he waited impatiently for the gate to swing open, and then closed behind him, before he drove down the long lane to the mansion. During the day, the gate was left open, but at night they were careful to make sure no one who didn’t belong there could get in. He left the car in the small parking area on the side of the house, grabbed his bag, and didn’t quite run for the front door.

He took a minute to compose himself before going in, but he still had the typical reaction when he entered. She’d lived in the house for years, worked there longer, and her scent permeated the air. She was leaning against Anthony’s office door, half in, and half out of the room. Form-fitting jeans and a white, tight, long-sleeved T-shirt that called attention to her full breasts and long, red hair showcased her tall, thin frame. He experienced the accustomed euphoria at seeing her.
His mate.

She swung around, as if she felt his regard, and his gaze met green eyes almost the exact same shade as his. Her eyes were red-rimmed with dark circles under them. He knew she’d probably been crying because of him. The wolf in him snarled, threatening to rise to the surface. He ruthlessly forced it down. The man felt the heavy burden of guilt and was more determined than ever not to claim her. Fighting not to walk forward and take her into his arms, give her exactly what she wanted, he spoke to her from just inside the door.

“You look—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she said sharply, holding her hand up as if to ward off the blow of his words.

What the hell did she think he was going to say? He couldn’t sort it out yet, had to get his head back on straight. Nodding, he went upstairs, following her scent down the hall and stopping in front of the door where it was most concentrated. He entered, dropped his bag on the dresser, and looked around, noting her bag and laptop on the desk. He knew he shouldn’t be there, was fighting the instincts clamoring to move in with her, when she followed him in. He’d known she would, and didn’t know why he’d been crazy enough to come in.

Determined to exit and save her from a mate that didn’t deserve her, he took a step forward, and she shut the door. Leaned back against it. She looked at his bag, then cocked her head to one side and met his gaze. He nearly groaned at the hope he saw in her eyes. She thought he was finally giving in.

Guilt nearly overwhelmed him, yet he still struggled against the urge to claim her and damn the consequences. His wolf nature fought for dominance, and he knew she must be able to see that in his eyes because, as he approached her, she seemed to shrink back a little. There was the barest hint of fear in the air, and the wolf wanted to bare its teeth. She would
not
be afraid of him. He wouldn’t allow it.

He set his palms flat against the door on either side of her head and leaned in, giving in to the craving that got harder to resist every time he saw her. He bent his face to the hollow between her neck and collar, the place he wanted to bite, to mark as his so everyone who saw her would know to whom she belonged.

When he breathed deeply, dragging her scent into his lungs, the wolf caged in his mind crouched, sensing victory. His incisors erupted from his gums, sharp points that would break her skin, and he took a shuddering breath, forcing them to retreat. No. He wouldn’t do that to her. Give her no choice without knowing everything she was getting, forcing her into a relationship she wasn’t prepared for.

He appeased the wolf with a different kind of taste, licking the sweet skin he longed to bite, then kissing a trail of kisses up her neck. Across her jaw. To her lips. He stopped when he realized he was grinding his erection against her belly. Fought himself, his wolf, from claiming what was his.

“Don’t stop, Clint.” Her eyes were pleading, liquid pools. “Just once, love me the way a mate should be loved. I know you don’t feel the same way I do, but can’t you just pretend for one night?”

Shock ripped through him. Not love her? Was the woman insane? He stayed away, killing himself in little pieces, strangling his need, because he loved her so much. There was only one way to respond. He didn’t try to convince her she was wrong with words. That would really only make her more determined to fight him. Instead, he kissed her, trying to pour every ounce of the engulfing emotion he felt into it.

He tried to stay in command, but it was a lost cause. He’d waited years to kiss her, years to taste her. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she responded with a groan, opening her mouth for him, touching her tongue to his. Her hands slid up under his sweater, leaving streaks of fire in their wake. She would try to give as much as received, but he couldn’t allow that. To be touched by her, loved by her, would shatter what little bit of control he had left.

He took her hands off his chest and pushed them to her sides, and he immediately felt the loss of her heat. Sliding his hands around the back of her thighs, he slid her up the wall, never breaking the kiss, until his cock ground against her pelvis, blocked by clothes to the one place he longed most to go. She rocked against him, and he could feel how hot she was. Her arousal was an intoxicating scent in the air.

He felt the pricking in his gums and almost pulled away, not sure if he could control the wolf. Before he could force himself to let her go, she moved her hands under his shirt again. This time she wrapped her arms around his back. She stroked him, scratched him. Between breathy little moans that were about to drive him crazy, she tilted her head back and murmured against his lips, “Clothes. Off.”

Breaking the kiss and keeping his hips pressed against hers so she wouldn’t fall, he lifted his arms over his head and let her pull off the sweater. As soon as it dropped to the floor, she touched him. Her tongue flicked over one of his nipples, then the other, while her hands trailed over his torso. He wanted to touch her too.

“This isn’t working,” he said gruffly and released her.

She looked at him with lust-filled, disbelieving eyes. “You’re not stopping.”

“Just for a minute, baby.” No way in hell was he stopping. He should, but even he didn’t have that kind of control. Moving to the bed, he sat on its edge and bent down, quickly unlacing his boots then removing the rest of his clothes.

She didn’t move a muscle. Leaning back against the door, she watched as if mesmerized. Her breathing was heavy and made her breasts rise and fall in a tantalizing way. Completely naked, he crooked a finger, motioning her to come to him. She had to come to him of her own free will, no coercion. A stupid demand on his part. Both of them were in the grip of the hormonal lust that existed between mates, despite the fact the bond was uncompleted.

Straightening, Ellen gripped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up, over her head. He made a sound as if to rush her, but she resisted. She’d waited too long for this, and she took the time to look at him, to drink him in.

He was a couple of inches over six feet tall. She’d always known he was thickly muscled under his clothes, but this was her first look. She planned to enjoy it. His shoulders were broad, rounded with muscle. His arms bulged, his pecs firm. Her gaze drifted down over a smooth, flat stomach, finally stopping when she got to his cock. He was long and thick. Erect.

“Ellen, come here.” The command was more a moan. Oh, she liked that she could shake him like this.

She had slip-on shoes and when she stepped toward him, left them by the door. Her bra stayed behind too, and in half a second, she was standing before him, watchful as she waited for his next move. Her jeans and underwear were gone in seconds, and then she lay under him. Skin-to-skin.

Practically humming her satisfaction, she lifted her hands to his shoulders and squirmed her lower body until her legs were no longer pinned under his. Her thighs spread, gripped his, and she caught her breath at the feel of his cock pressed against her pussy. She rotated her hips up, wanting him to enter her. Take her.

“Not yet,” he murmured.

His gaze pinned hers, and what she saw there rocked her. So much passion. So much need. His lips touched hers briefly, gently, and then he was moving down. Down her throat, her chest. He paused at one nipple and sucked it into his mouth, biting down with just enough pressure to send sensation through her torso and straight to her pussy. She pushed her hands through his hair, trying to hold him in place, desperate for more of that pleasure, but he easily broke the hold and moved on.

Light kisses on her ribs made her squirm and bite her bottom lip. He moved down after a moment of tickling her, swirled his tongue around her belly button before going on. He went slowly, kissing every piece of skin, leaving her hot and wet and wanting in a way she’d never known possible. She felt confined in her own skin.

Finally, finally he was at her pelvis, blowing hot air over her pussy before using the fingers of one hand to spread her lips for his inspection. She held her breath at the reverence on his face, and despite some embarrassment, her heart soared. This meant something more than just giving into his wolf’s needs. Every single thought fled her mind as he looked up and slowly inserted one finger into her cunt. He thrust it in and out a couple of times before lifting his finger to his mouth and sucking it.