“You’re thinking too much,” he said, yanking off his jeans and shirt and another pair of those semitransparent boxers. Did he know just how sexy those things were? Then he slid into bed next to her, his body warming hers instantly. He grabbed a handful of her hair and took a deep breath, lowering his body on top of hers, his mouth hovering over her lips.
She lifted her head to capture his tantalizing mouth, annoyed that he’d withhold the kiss, but he only smiled and brushed her lips quickly, then nudged her face over to kiss her ear and whisper, “I want to touch and taste every inch of you. I want to fill you and love you and make you mine.”
His mouth caressed her ear and her neck, all the way down to her throat, awakening a feverish desire to have him deep inside her, every nerve ending thrumming with need.
“Hmm,” she said and took his face in her hands and studied his heated gaze. “I want more.” And with that, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. It was a tempestuous, heady kiss of yearning and passion, of pressed lips and tongues fusing, of heated breaths that left them panting.
“Damn, Meara,” he said grinning, and she laughed.
But she didn’t let up the assault and wrapped her arms around him, preparing for even more.
His hands slipped around her buttocks and she spread her thighs with willing anticipation. He pressed against her heat, hard and eager, rubbing her with incessant need, infusing her with a desire so strong that she didn’t think she could last.
Hunger mobilized her to explore every inch of his taut muscles as her fingers felt his back and buttocks and thighs. His mouth moved from hers to a breast and he suckled lightly, then more vigorously, and she writhed against him, wanting him to enter her now. Every inch of her was filled with fire as she moaned against the sweet things his mouth was doing to her breasts.
Until he moved away and his hand replaced his body, cupping her between her legs. His fingers stroking the outside made her crave his penetration even more. But she wouldn’t beg, fearing he’d just make her want more. Without permission, her body arched, forcing him to spread her feminine lips, enticing him to sink his fingers deep, making him smile just a little.
He was so maddeningly smug. Before he knew what she was up to, she reached between them and gave him a little back, stroking his penis with a firm, steady grip, and for a time, he allowed it. She could tell from the expression on his face that he was fighting giving in too quickly, and then he was pulling away and stroking her as if he was afraid she’d dissolve into an Oregon mist and fade away before he could finish this.
She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his fingers dipping inside her and stroking her outside until she had climbed so high, aching for the end, undulating to his touch, that the only thing that kept her from crying out when the climax hit was his mouth against hers, swallowing the sounds of joy.
Then he was inside her in one fell swoop, his hand lifting her legs around his buttocks for even deeper penetration. He was wolf-sized, the perfect fit, stretching her, filling her, the only one for her. Her mate, now and forever. And she knew the time had finally been right for the two of them, surrounded by unknown dangers but joined for life.
Finn had never thought it could get better than the sexual pleasure that he’d shared with Meara up until now. But this was something even he hadn’t expected. To see her aglow with their lovemaking and know that he’d brought her to climax, to see her desire it so much yet fight the urge to beg him to finish her off, when he knew that’s just what she was doing. He loved her actions; he loved her.
She nipped at his chin as he looked at her with wonderment. And then he gave her a smile and nuzzled her cheek, but his mouth soon reclaimed hers with rapaciousness as the fire in him burned. She was so incredibly desirable.
He still couldn’t believe she had been free until now to mate. He kissed her and deepened his thrusts, wanting to bring the mating to completion, to feel the heart-thudding bonding between mates, to glory in the mounting passion. And then with a burst of raw sexual completion, he filled her with his seed, barely aware that her hands were grasping his hips and she was moving against him with wicked delight.
“Damn, Meara, you’re good.”
“We’re good,” she said, licking his whiskery chin. “Damned good—together.”
He gathered her into his arms and pulled the covers over them. “Together,” he agreed, a kind of bliss he’d never truly felt surrounding him completely. “Hell, I should have retired and sought you out long ago.”
She chuckled against his chest. “You’re absolutely right. But I doubt either of us would have been ready before this.” And then they snuggled like two wolves, not caring for the moment what lay beyond their self-proclaimed den.
Although in the back of his thoughts, he knew he would be moving her to Hunter’s house before long to keep her safe.
When Meara finally woke again, she found that Finn had left the bed, probably worried what the others would think if they were alone together in a bedroom again before they announced they were mated. She shook her head when she saw his cell phone sitting on the bedside table. After she got dressed, she pocketed his phone and returned to the living room where she heard a heated discussion in the kitchen.
“Come on, Anna,” Paul was saying. “Everyone knows women make the best coffee.”
Meara laughed to herself. She’d made a pot on occasion, but since she didn’t drink it normally, Hunter had to make his own. She wondered if Tessa made coffee now for Hunter.
Anna said, “I. Don’t. Make. Coffee. I. Don’t. Cook. Either.”
Paul shook his head. “It just isn’t natural—a woman who doesn’t cook.”
Meara was certain Paul was teasing Anna. And she was just having some fun back. Finn rummaged around in the drawers, then pulled out an instruction booklet. “Here are the directions.”
“Don’t you know how to make a pot of coffee?” Anna asked, sounding surprised.
Finn gave Hunter a conspiratorial look, then shook his head. “Bjornolf made it earlier.”
“But,” Meara said, looking from Finn to her brother, “I thought the two of you were having coffee earlier. And Hunter’s always trying to get me to fix it. He only makes it when he’s camping, using a saucepan and stirring instant coffee into a mug of hot water.”
Ignoring the directions Finn offered, Paul scooped coffee into the machine.
Anna smiled and folded her arms as Paul added water. Meara imagined that Anna refused to fix coffee for the men because to her way of thinking that made her less of an equal. Meara wouldn’t make it either, since she didn’t drink it, while Paul seemed to be guessing at getting the proportions right.
She figured Finn wished Bjornolf was here to make the coffee. Especially when she saw the puckered faces as Hunter and Finn took their first sips. Anna drank hers as if she didn’t see anything wrong with it. Meara was glad she liked tea, which she made for herself.
But just as they all walked into the living room to take seats, where Meara planned to ask what would happen next, a key turned in the front-door lock.
Anna immediately set her cup of coffee on a table beside a high-backed chair to free her hands and pulled out a gun. Finn moved to stand in front of Meara, his endearing posture one of protection. She’d never seen this side of him in earlier years. When he was getting ready for a mission with Hunter, he’d been all business. Although now that she thought about it, he had acted a little funny around her at times. Like he wanted to get the hell out of there before he’d seen too much of her yet enjoyed the way she tore into him about setting up the contracts and didn’t want to leave.
Hunter was his indomitable self. Meara swore he could look at a man and make him cower like a beta when the stranger had thought himself a steadfast alpha before the encounter. She imagined Finn was not much different in the way he affected people.
Pulling out his concealed gun, Paul moved into a position where Anna wouldn’t block his aim.
The door opened and Allan smiled grimly at the assembled group.
“Oh my God, Allan, you’re here!” Anna said, hurrying to the door while she quickly holstered her gun.
Meara relaxed, as did the guys. She had to admire Allan for coming to help his team.
His pale green eyes were assessing her and Finn, his broad shoulders wide and his back straight, as if he was going to confront Finn over her. He scanned the room, his gaze taking in everyone gathered there. Hunter, Paul, Finn. But then he focused again on Meara, half hidden by Finn’s tall frame. A smile cheered Allan’s face.
She smiled back at him, glad to see him so well after his recent injury.
“Meara, I’ve come for you,” he said, his voice bear-like, and he gave Finn an annoyed look as if he was in the way.
Her mouth gaped. Hunter shook his head as if declaring again that his sister had led his team members off course.
Anna glanced worriedly at Finn. But Finn didn’t seem bothered by the declaration. Maybe because he’d moved behind Meara, stuck his hand in her back pocket, and was groping her as if to say she was not anyone else’s but his. She didn’t mind, since no one else could see his action and she rather liked where his hand was. But what was good for him was good for her. She slipped her hand in his back pocket and gave his buttock a warm squeeze. He shifted his gaze from Allan to give her a seductively heated smile that told her if they hadn’t had company, he would have hauled her right back to bed.
Paul chuckled. “Welcome back from the dead, Allan.”
“Good to see you,” Hunter said. “Just like the old days.”
“I wouldn’t have been left out of the action, no matter what. What would you guys do without me?” Allan said. “So what’s the plan?”
“Finn’s taking Meara to my place, and he’ll keep her safe there. We’re getting the word out that the team is all gathered here.”
When Allan took a seat on the couch, Paul offered, “Airline food sucks. What can I get you to drink? Eat?”
