A snarl lifted up into the air. "Hands off my butt."
"Yeah?" Spreading his hand, he squeezed in a deliberate tease.
When she shuddered, he moved away and put his hands on her hips. That got him a growl but she stayed in place. Sliding his hands up under her T-shirt, he stroked them over the silky warmth of her skin to close over her br**sts. The warm, sexy weight of her filled his palms, her ni**les beaded against the fine cotton of her bra.
"Skin," she ordered. "I want skin."
Since that was what he wanted, too, he withdrew his hands and used his claws to shred the T-shirt and bra off her. Then he returned his attention to her br**sts. She cried out as his hands found her again skin to skin. And he just about came from the tiny, rolling movements of her body.
Trembling with the fury of his desire, he buried his face in her neck. But only for an instant. He had a promise to keep. And it was one he most definitely wanted to keep. Pulling back, he tore off her jeans and panties, leaving her dressed in nothing but a pair of boots and socks. It was so damn erotic, he decided he'd have to lure her into the woods more often. "Spread your legs."
His lips curved, even as the stranglehold of sexual hunger grew ever tighter. Putting a hand on the inside of her thigh, he reached up with the other to pinch one beautiful nipple. She cried out, her attention shifting . . . and he used the opportunity to push at her thigh. She spread for him instinctively. Realizing what she'd done, she blew out a breath. "My nipple hurts."
"Liar." He'd meant to drop down behind her, but it was so tempting to stroke the taut, muscled curve of her butt that he delayed, indulging himself. "Want me to suck it for you?" He tugged at the aroused nub of flesh. "So pretty and red. Like my favorite raspberry lollypop."
A choked-off sound. "Damn, Riley."
He grinned at the shocked words. "What?" He didn't wait for an answer, going to his knees behind her and angling his body so his shoulders kept her legs open for his mouth. But he didn't touch. Not yet.
Keeping one hand on her thigh, he spread her with the fingers of the other . . . and blew a soft, hot breath over her. She cried out, her body clenching to release another rush of exquisite need. His tongue was there to meet it as he licked at her with long, lazy movements. He was determined to learn every little sensitive spot, every scent, every feminine cry.
Mercy closed her eyes, the better to savor the most incredible pleasure she'd ever felt. She was never ever going to accuse Riley of being uncreative again. The man had plenty of imagination. Plenty. His tongue was doing things to her that she knew were illegal somewhere, and - "Riley!" Her body shook under the force of a wickedly powerful orgasm as he closed his mouth over her clit, sucking hard.
He petted her thigh, calming her down . . . then stroked those same fingers over the excruciatingly sensitive flesh of her opening. She tried to squeeze her thighs closed, but his strong, muscular body kept them open while his mouth ravaged her. Those teasing fingers rubbed a little harder, and then one began to slide inside.
She opened her eyes, but saw only a wash of color as her brain tried to process the amount of sensation going through her body. It failed. Color exploded in every direction, and the muscles in her body went taut, her claws slicing out to pierce the tree trunk as she gave in to the wildness and rode the pleasure.
When she surfaced, it was to the feel of a hot, hard, and lusciously na**d male body behind her own, one strong hand cupping her between the thighs. Petting her. Easing her down. He might've been a wolf, but Riley knew how to deal with a cat.
Smiling, sated, she rolled her bottom against him. His growl was everything she could've hoped for. Cool, calm Riley Kincaid had lost control. His hand withdrew from between her legs to clamp over her hips, holding her in place . . . no, he was urging her to bend a little, to change her stance.
She cooperated, and a split second after she'd settled her hands on the trunk again, he slid into her. "Riley!" It was a short, startled scream.
He froze and his voice, when it came, was more wolf than man. "Hurt?"
She shook her head at once. "I - " Her throat was raw, her voice husky. "I'm so sensitive. And you're so damn thick."
He chuckled, and the wolf's arrogance was very much in evidence. "You like it." He rocked against her.
Moaning, she found that her body was tightening again, readying itself for another wild ride. "Do that again."
He did. And again. She was just getting into the rhythm of it when he withdrew almost completely and thrust back in slow, oh-so-slow. Sensitized nerve endings went crazy and she found herself making hungry sounds in the bottom of her throat. He growled in response and picked up the pace. Hard and thick, he was a perfect fit. He seemed to touch every single pleasure point as he went in, then again as he came out. Stomach tensing with the need to come, to take him with her, she cried out.
And the world exploded.
Mercy surfaced to the awareness that she was lying on something soft. Touching it, she realized it was what remained of her and Riley's T-shirts. He'd made her a nest. Aw. Turning, she propped herself on one elbow and looked down at the male lying beside her. He had his eyes closed, and for the first time, she noticed that he had the same rich chocolate brown lashes as his brother, Andrew. Long and lush and curling slightly at the ends. Pretty lashes.
Delighted by the discovery, she leaned over and rubbed her nose gently against his. His lips curved but his eyes remained closed. One hand ran in a slow glide up and down over her back. "How was your nap, kitty?"