Wild Game (Wilding Pack Wolves 1) - New Adult Paranormal Romance (6 page)

He closed the door, locked it, and parked her next to it. “Wait here,” he said with dark, serious eyes peering deep into hers.

She nodded.

He whisked away.
What was he doing?
She watched dully as he hurried through her apartment, closing the blinds, checking the kitchen, running to the back bedroom, then circling around again to inspect the living area. She didn’t know what he was doing until he stopped dead-center in the room, squeezing his eyes shut and running his hand through his hair.

Then she realized: he was checking for something, or someone, that might kill her.

That deep-body-cold gripped her again, like an open grave was waiting for her. The full-body shudder slumped her back against the door. It was graceless, and the thump drew Owen’s attention again. He dropped his hand from his hair and hurried over. She tried to scoot out of the way so he could open the door to leave, but she didn’t get far‌—‌her legs were shaking too much.

“Sorry,” she said, ducking and bracing herself against the wall. She blinked at her hand pressed against it, knowing she should move, but somehow held transfixed by the coolness of the plaster on her palm. “I know you want to get going,” she said, thickly, not looking at him. “I guess I’ll… I’ll see you in the morning.” She slowly dragged her gaze up to his.

His brow was wrinkled like he was puzzled by something. “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was rough. “I’m staying here to make sure you’re safe. You’ve got a couch that will suit just fine.”

He was staying.
The relief that washed through her suddenly turned her legs weak, and she sagged against the wall that was holding her up. His arms were around her in an instant, warm and strong and lifting her away from the wall.

“Hey, now,” he said, words soft but his arms strong around her. “You’re okay. I’m not letting anything hurt you.”

She clung to him, her arms going automatically around his neck, her face burying in his shoulder. “Oh, God, Owen, that video…”

“You forget about that video.” Some edge had come back to his voice.

“I can’t, I just…” Her body shuddered again, and she clutched him tighter. “Hold me.”

“I’m holding you.” His hands moved to lay flat against her back, and somehow that was better.

She bunched the back of his collar in her hands. “Tighter.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair. His hands pressed her shaking body into his hard-muscled one, and that chased away some of the chill. In fact, the way his fingers were kneading the muscles of her back and working into her hair… it was lighting a fire inside her that burned low in her belly. She released her clutching of his clothes and slid her hands up into the short military buzz of his hair.

“Owen,” she gasped, her heart rate starting to pick up.

His head dipped down to her. “Hush.” His lips moved against her forehead. “You don’t say anything. I know just what you need.”

Then he tipped her head back, and his lips found hers. They were gentle at first, barely a brush against her, but it surged the fire inside her even brighter. Suddenly she was pulling him down for a deeper kiss like he was the air she needed to keep breathing. He dove in, his hands clutching at her as much as she was grabbing hold of him, their tongues battling for dominance. His hands were everywhere‌—‌cupping her bottom, sliding down over her hip, up between their bodies to grasp her breast through her shirt. His rough squeeze made her whimper, and she was hot with need. He groaned and pushed her back against the door, pinning her while he owned her mouth. His hand was under her shirt now, warm palm on her breast, fingers twisting her nipple and making her cry out‌—‌not with pain but with the firestorm he was creating inside her, burning away all thoughts and fears and that deep, dark chill. There was nothing but Owen’s mouth on her neck, feasting on her as he slipped his hand down the front of her pants. Breath huffed out of her body as his fingers dove straight to her most sensitive parts. But he only tormented her with the promise of pleasure, snatching his hand back out to lift her tank top free of her body in one swipe. Then both his hands slipped down the back of her pants, his mouth working a hot line of biting kisses down her front as he dropped to his knees, taking her clothes with him.

She braced herself on his shoulders as she stepped out of her boots and pants, and the moment she was free‌—‌completely naked now against the door‌—‌he lifted her knee over his shoulder and dove into her sex, tongue first. She melted with the hot feel of his mouth on her, then his fingers soon followed, thrusting roughly inside her and blasting her toward an orgasm that felt like an oncoming avalanche. She banged her head back against the door as it rocked her body. She bucked into him, but he held her tight, fingers of one hand digging into her hip while she convulsed around the other ones thrusting deep inside her. Just as the wave peaked, he curled his fingers, hitting a spot that had her crying out and bucking against him again.

She was dizzy with it as he left her body, leaving her suspended against the door in a haze of pleasure while he tore off his shirt and shoved down his pants. She only got a momentary look at his cock—‌hard and mouth-wateringly large and ready for her—‌before he was on her again. She moaned as the hot skin of his chest pressed her into the door. His hands lifted her bottom, and suddenly she was off her feet. He wrapped her legs around his waist, and she grabbed hold of his broad shoulders just as he thrust that hot cock inside her. She screamed his name, and he let loose a guttural growl that pulsed waves of pleasure through her with every thrust. He had her pinned hard against the door, owning her body, releasing her from the world as she floated higher on every door-rattling pound.

“Nova.”
It was a warning, a growl, and a fiercely possessive sound, all in one word. “Come for me.” He leaned into the crook at her neck and bit her‌—‌not a claiming bite with fangs, just his human teeth claiming pleasure from her‌—‌but it was enough to send her over the edge.

“Owen.”
She gasped and then came undone. Giant, throbbing waves of pleasure wrecked her. Owen kept thrusting inside her through the rise and fall of the waves until he let loose his own growling-hoarse grunt of pleasure, his rock-hard body shuddering against hers. She could feel his release shooting hot inside her.

He slowed his pace, still moving against and inside her, and his mouth on her neck gentled. Then he eased her to the floor, pulling out of her body, and yet leaving her filled with pleasure. He nipped bites all over her chest and belly and down to her sex, cupping his hot hand against the throbbing wetness there. She moaned with the after-pleasure he was giving her, gentle and hot. He rose up to hold her again, and she fairly slumped against him, weak with pleasure.

He took a second to hike up his pants, then without a word, he reached down, hooked his arm under the backs of her knees, and lifted her up. He carried her like that through the apartment, and her eyes slid shut of their own accord. She was so tired, so limp from their hot sex against the door, that she didn’t even murmur a question of where they were going. When she lazily opened them again, they were in her bedroom. Owen gently set a knee down on the bed, then placed her on it. He drew back the covers and scooped her up again only to slide her underneath them. The sheets were cool against her hot skin, but it was a pleasure-filled coolness this time. She expected him to crawl in with her, but he just pulled the covers up to her neck and kissed her forehead‌—‌like she was a child he was tucking in for the night.

“Sleep, Mistress NovaCaine,” he whispered and gave her a small smile along with a tender look that reached straight inside her.

She grabbed at his arm as he pulled away. “Where are you going?”

He stroked her hand clutching onto him. “I won’t be far. Just to the couch. I promise.”

“Don’t leave.” She wanted him in her bed. It seemed wrong for him to be anywhere else.

He smiled and dipped back down to kiss her tenderly on the lips. “If I sleep in here, no actual sleeping is going to get done. And you need to rest.”

He kissed her forehead again and drew back fast enough that she couldn’t catch him. And she was too tired, too worn out from the world and the sex and everything, to chase after him. She slumped back into the pillow and watched him go through half-lidded eyes.

She tried to keep them open, but they slid shut as he closed her bedroom door.

Her last thought before drifting off was a vague idea that Owen wanted the couch because it was closer to the front door.

He was keeping her
safe,
even now… just as he promised.

Owen awoke on Nova’s couch.

It took him a moment to sort how that happened. His mind was definitely still thinking about pressing her smokin’ little body up against the door, having some of the hottest sex he’d ever had. In fact, his body was still there, too‌—‌he had a raging hard-on even before he blinked open his eyes to the morning sun. For a moment, he lay there, hand on his cock, thinking about her and getting his bearings. She was asleep in the bedroom, right where he left her, and the door was closed. If she came out now, he’d be hard-pressed not to back her right into the bedroom, throw her on the bed, and work off his erection that way.

But that wasn’t what Nova Wilding needed from him.

Which was why he was on the couch, far from the temptation of her sweet, sweet body.

No.
He needed to get some breakfast going and come up with a plan to deal with this Wolf Hunter. Last night, Owen had been focused on getting Nova to safety and calming her down. But now in the bright light of morning, he needed a better plan than just relieving the insane sexual tension that was still tenting out his pants.

There was nothing wrong with taking Nova hard and fast against the door. In fact, there were all kinds of right about it. She’d really needed something at that moment, something he was more than willing to give‌—‌comfort; the security of someone looking out for her; and a hot distraction to take her mind off the danger.

But she had stirred something more than just his cock last night. Normally, he would say his wolf was calling for her‌—‌but this was something different. Something primal, untamed, and very deep inside him. It surged up whenever he kissed her, much less sunk his cock deep inside her hot little body. She was bringing something out of him. Something that should most likely stay buried.

Nova wasn’t looking for a mate, anyway, at least not from him. Which was just as well, because claiming a mate meant shifting and that wasn’t happening. He’d told her the truth about that. No, he needed to keep his cock and whatever was raging deep inside him under better control. Otherwise, he might be more of a danger to her than the Wolf Hunter.

Owen tossed off the small throw that had been his blanket and stretched out his sex-sore muscles on the way to the kitchen. His dress pants were still loose around him, not entirely zipped from the night before, and his cock was still tenting them out. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think of mundane things to tame his erection. He got the coffee pot going. He found the plates and pans for rustling up some breakfast.

Nothing was working.

As he sorted through the refrigerator, pulling out eggs and milk and butter, his mind kept drifting back to last night. The scent of their encounter hung in the air, and that wasn’t helping. His body knew she was sleeping in the next room, just waiting for him. He set the breakfast supplies on the counter and let out a growl of frustration. Then he yanked open the refrigerator door, grabbed a Coke, and held it against his crotch.

Fuck,
that was cold. He squeezed eyes tight against it, gritting his teeth, but keeping the Coke in place, until he was sure his blood flow had been permanently chilled.

“You okay?” The voice startled him, and he convulsed in front of the open refrigerator, popping open his eyes and yanking the Coke away from his crotch.

Nova stood in front of him in a long T-shirt that barely covered her ass. Her bed-head hair was all mussed and sticking up, her head was cocked to the side, and she was squinting at him.
Sexy as all hell.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” He coughed.
Unbelievable.
He’d been caught with a Coke on his cock. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure she’d noticed.

She gave him a lazy, sexy smile. “Aren’t you the security guy? I shouldn’t be able to sneak up on you, should I?”

He closed the refrigerator door and held the Coke up like he had planned all along to pull that out for breakfast. Then he wagged a finger at her. “That’s right. And I’ve been thinking‌—‌we need a more secure location for you to stay.”

She frowned, but she didn’t seem to grasp what he was saying. “That sounds suspiciously like a decision that requires my brain to function. I require coffee first.”

He smirked. “Just so happens I’ve got some brewing.” He grabbed a mug out of the cabinet, poured her a cup, and then set it on the small breakfast table. She went to it like a starving man goes to a feast, then cradled the cup in her hands and held it up to her face to breathe it in. That look on her face was doing things to his cock again.