Wolf's Capture (15 page)

“Like fuck,” was the only growled warning she got before he wrapped an arm around her waist and leaped over the edge.

Wind whistled as they shot down.

Splash
.

They hit the cold river, and she couldn’t help but scream. Bad idea.

Water in my eyes. My mouth. Help!

She couldn’t help the panic as she sank.

She didn’t sink far.

Fingers fisted her hair and yanked painfully, popping her head into the air, where she choked and sputtered.

And flailed.

“Calm down, sweetheart, I’ve got you. I won’t let you sink.” Brody tried to calm her. He also kept his word.

She didn’t sink, or drown, but that didn’t mean she forgave him when he eventually dragged her soaked and exhausted—and very prune-like—body to shore.

The fly landed on his nose again, its accuracy in being a pest spot-on. Brody swatted his hand at it, and it buzzed off indignantly, only to return. It perched right on the tip of his nose, and he practically went cross-eyed glaring at it.

Damned pest!

A sound came from his left. He shot Layla a look. Indeed, she was snickering.

Not bad enough he was naked, trudging through the woods, his feet sore from the abuse when he’d used them with the bike. She had to mock him on top of it?

He frowned as the fly once again landed with unerring accuracy on his nose, taunting him. It was unnatural. “Are you the one doing this?” he asked.

A coy smile curved her lips. “Maybe.”

Which meant yes. “Stop it.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“You will cease at once.”

She tapped her chin as if in thought. Her dark locks flew as she shook her head. “No.”

“What do you mean no? This is not a democracy. I’m in charge of this escape. You will obey.” Yeah, he told her. Problem was, she didn’t seem intent on listening. No respect.

“First off, you would have never escaped without my help and second…” A pink tongue emerged from lips he’d kissed and blew wetly at him.

The childish reply stunned him for a moment. “You did not just do that.”

“I did. And I’m also doing this.” She flashed him a middle finger, along with a smirk. “I’ve had time to think over our situation, and I’ve decided you’re a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk? I’m not the one siccing bacteria-laden flies at you.”

“You deserve it. You made me think I could trust you.”

“Who says you can’t?”

“You threw me off a cliff, into a raging river, knowing I couldn’t swim.”

“To save your life.”

“Ha, it wasn’t my life in danger. Those idiots wouldn’t have hurt me. They wouldn’t have dared.”

“So you’d prefer to return to captivity than escape?”

“Funny you should mention that. I was escaping just fine on my own before you arrived like a rabid psycho on a bike to muck things up.”

He ogled her. “Just fine? When I showed up, you were like a deer in headlights facing down a hired killer.”

Her chin tilted at a stubborn angle. “I would have handled it.”

“With what? A swarm of mosquitos?”

“Actually, I had a line on a wasps’ nest when you interrupted.”

“Wasps against a killer?” He shook his head. “Shit like that is why I can’t let you wander around alone.”

“Why? Because I’m a girl and I just might be able to take care of myself?”

“No, because you’re an idiot who thinks she can. So far if you ask me, you’ve been lucky. Your worth to the hooded fellow is what’s made these guys hold back. You might not always be able to count on that.”

“What makes you any better than them? After all, aren’t you doing the same thing by taking me to this Reid guy?”

“Because he’s alpha at Kodiak Point.”

“So what? A prisoner to an alpha, or a prisoner to some other guy, I don’t see the difference.”

“You’re not a prisoner.” Not exactly.

“Says the guy who kidnapped me when I was trying to escape.”

“For your own good. You do want to avoid capture, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. But I don’t need you for that.”

Irritation built as she kept denying her need of him.
She needs me, whether she likes it or not.
“Despite your skills with wildlife, you wouldn’t last out here on your own, and you know it.” He didn’t need the dirty look she shot his way to know he’d put his paw in his mouth.

“I bet you I could. Let me go and I’ll prove it.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too dangerous to let wander about by yourself.”

She stopped short and stared at him. “Hold on. Just a minute ago, I was too inept to be on my own, and now I’m too dangerous? That makes no sense.”

Nope, just like his attraction to her didn’t. Annoying him or not, he couldn’t help but want her. And hiding it was about to get difficult.

He dropped his hands and turned away to resume walking. “Being dangerous doesn’t mean you’d survive. There are all kinds of things out here that could kill you. You need me.”

“You’re an ass.”

“If you’re implying I’m stubborn then yes. I am.”

Now it was her turn to go cross-eyed. “You do know there’s enough animal life around here that I could probably start a stampede and squish your stubborn carcass to death.”

“But you won’t.”

She scowled. “But I could.”

“But you won’t.”

“What makes you think that?”

Because he could smell it. Irritated with him or not, she wanted him, and the perfume of her arousal was driving him nuts, almost as nuts as her verbal arguing.

When talk was getting a man nowhere, it was time to resort to a more hands-on approach. It had also been much too long since he’d last touched her. He could wait no longer.

He dragged her into his arms and kissed her. Over and over.

When he finally let her breathe on her own, her pulse raced, a flush tinted her cheeks, and her eyes smoldered like purple fire. “I hate you.”

“Hate me all you want, but you have to admit I’m a great kisser.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never kissed another man.”

And she never would.

Ack, there he went with those possessive thoughts again.

“You’ll be sorely disappointed if you do. I am the best.” Modesty had no place when a man boasted of his prowess.

“What a cocky statement. And is that a dare I hear? You know what, on second thought, we should go to your hometown. It’s time I got to mingle with more people. More men. Maybe get a basis of comparison when it comes to kissing technique. How many men do you think I need to smooch to get a proper idea? Three, five, ten?” She smiled mockingly. Her gaze challenged.

He knew she did on purpose to goad him. Knew it and yet…

Jealousy burned fast and hot.

“You will kiss no others!” He practically roared the order at her, loud enough that she gaped at him.

She planted her hands on her hips and leaned toward him. “You can’t stop me. I’ll kiss whomever I damned well please.
And
,” she smirked, “I’ll like it.”

You will not.

Once again, he lost control, or never had it to begin with. He dragged her into his arms and slanted his mouth over hers, possessing it with a fierce passion he’d never felt for another woman.

One brief, torrid taste. She broke the embrace and stared at him, panting slightly. Her lips moved, forming words that took a moment to filter. “Stop that.”

Stop kissing her? Why would he do that when he could see the smoldering interest in her eyes? Smell her arousal.

Need her. Now.

With no conscious thought, he placed his big hands on her waist, her flared waist covered only by that stupid flimsy gown, which was little more than a rag since their dip in the river.

He hoisted her until her lips were but a hairsbreadth away. For once, she didn’t speak. Didn’t harangue. She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted. Utterly tempting.

He kissed her again, taking his time exploring her mouth. Truly tasting her, her hesitance, tinged with hunger. A crack of a branch had her breaking off the embrace.

“We shouldn’t do this.”

“Why?”

“We’re out in the open. Someone will see.”

“There’s no one around for miles, and you know it.” They’d traveled miles in the river, bobbing like flotsam, far enough to make pursuit difficult.

“We don’t have time for this,” she said, her voice soft and breathy.

He begged to differ. It wouldn’t take long. Not with the way their passion burned bright.

“I’m making time.” Because he just might explode if he didn’t. The lack of control bothered him on some level, but common sense was overpowered by need.

Desire.

Want.

A primal want that would let nothing stand in its way.

Once more, he dipped in to take her lips, claiming what was his.
Mine. She’s mine. All mine.

Admitting, even if only in his mind, transformed the caress. It went from gentle to fiery and possessive. She no longer protested, and he would have kissed her breathless if she did. There was no turning back. He needed this woman. Needed her and he would have her. Not just now, but forever.

And ever.

Oh shit. I’m a goner.

In that moment, with that one thought, he knew he’d just kissed the bachelor life goodbye. No matter what happened next, it would involve this woman.

His mate.

Mine.

Now he just had to convince her of that fact.

At first, she held herself stiffly in his grasp, but as his lips covered over, nibbling and teasing, she relaxed. She kissed him back, her tentative nips of his lip making an already turgid situation even harder.

He knew he’d achieved true capitulation when she draped her arms around his neck. He squeezed her, and she gasped, a sound he swallowed as she opened her mouth. He didn’t waste the chance and slid his tongue within the warm recess of her mouth.

How could the taste of her, cinnamon-sweet, drive him so utterly mad with desire?

Primal need pushed him.
Instinct drove him. His wolf, usually a silent passenger, begged him to mark her. Claim her.

Utter insanity. Or the mating fever his father once warned him about. It didn’t strike everyone, just those who proved most stubborn. And when it hit…

“You are but just a bobbing cork in a sea of rough waters, buoyed by her presence, yet cast adrift with no steady footing.”
Just one of his dad’s many quirky explanations for the basic tenets of life.

No matter their short acquaintance, his being recognized her as the one, and Brody wasn’t one to argue with fate, at least not the pleasurable kind.

He still held her suspended in the air, which meant he couldn’t let his hands rove her curvaceous body, and he so craved a touch. Yet putting her down meant craning because she was much shorter than him.
He had a simpler solution.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he murmured against her lips. For a moment, he feared she’d protest, but it seemed the fever racing through him had infected her too. Her limbs wrapped around his frame, and he sank down to the ground, the moss patch spongy and cool against his hot skin. It didn’t cool his ardor in the least, probably because the new position had her straddling him and kissing him while her fingers dug into the hair at his nape, weaving and tugging, as her trepidations melted and desire consumed her.

Oh, how her lust enflamed her, emboldening her so that her tongue forayed into his mouth, tangling with his own.

Brody was a man of experience, and he’d kissed his fair share of woman, but none had ever ignited him like Layla did. None made him want to forget the niceties of foreplay and just slide himself into her, pounding until they both found release.

But he retained some measure of sanity, the barest control. With her inexperience, he had to take care, lest he frighten her, or hurt her, both things he couldn’t allow. But it was hard holding back, especially since her sex, covered only in the thinnest of cotton, pressed against his groin, leaving him wet as her arousal soaked through the fabric and the heat scorched.

With them seated, he no longer needed to hold her, which meant his hands could leave the indent of her waist and cup the roundness of her ass. Once again, her damned gown got between him and his goal. He couldn’t help a low growl as he slid the fabric out of the way until he could slip his fingers past the elastic waistband of her underpants.

Smooth flesh. Full cheeks. Perfection.

He squeezed the perfect globes, and she squirmed atop him and emitted a gasp against his lips. The tiny sound thrilled him, but not as much as the fact she pressed herself tighter to him. Their teeth clanged as she ground herself impatiently against his body, the fullness of her breasts pressing against his chest, her nipples hard points that prodded.

They’re begging for my mouth.

They were. He could tell. And he wasn’t a man to deny a plea like that.

It took but a moment to tug the gown she wore up and overhead, tossing it aside, leaving her clad only in panties. He’d remove those in a bit, but for the moment, he was riveted by her breasts.

More than a handful, they hung a touch heavy, giving them a delightful curve to cup, which he did. With her dusky skin, he was surprised at how pink the nipples were. He’d expected a darker hue, but the rosebuds were a delight, and as he stared at them—practically drooling—they tightened into little nubs. He couldn’t resist stroking the pad of his thumb over one. A tremor shook her at his calloused touch.

He stroked again and was rewarded with an even bigger shudder. Eager for more, he let his free hand palm the middle of her back, arching her away from him to better display her breasts. It also made her nipples, those tasty-looking buds, protrude. He could resist no longer. He latched on to one, delighting in her soft cry.

The heat of her sex and the dampness increased, a visible sign of her enjoyment, not that he needed it, not with the way she clutched at his head and cried out with each suck and tug of his mouth.

Not one to neglect, he switched to the other breast, spurred on by her sounds of pleasure and his own delight in the perfection of her plump breasts.

Bountiful and soft.
Unlike some of the more athletic women he’d been with, Layla’s breasts had natural cushiness to them. Pillowy enough for a man’s head. He buried his face against her flesh, reveling in the silkiness of her skin. The deep valley between them brought to mind erotic images of him sliding his cock between them, the tip of his erection prodding at her full lips.