Chapter 54: Inseparable

Daphne

I’ve always heard the expression playing with fire, but I didn’t know the true meaning until that moment. The smoke was there in his dark eyes, and the flame was in his touch. His fingers that spread across my butt cheek felt like molten lava through the thin fabric of my t-shirt. The sensation that previously felt calming and peaceful had a very different vibration to it.

“Who’s t-shirt is this?” he growled, pulling at the hem.

Was Nate jealous? It didn’t seem possible that I could evoke possessive feelings in a man I had only just met. But, I decided to put his mind to rest. “It was an old t-shirt that belonged to my brother,” I admitted.

Nate grunted, and then, without any warning, he stood up, and pulled it unceremoniously over my head. He wadded it up and sent it flying toward the waste-basket. He missed, but he didn’t care, and neither did I. “I’ll give you one of mine,” he said gruffly, but his eyes were glued to my naked body.

Werewolves are not generally modest creatures. Shifting from animal to human and back again is not wardrobe friendly, and is best done in the nude. By the time a Were reaches adolescence, she’s already seen it all, in every shape, size and gender. It’s only humans that get hung up on sexual taboos, as if we all didn’t have the same basic parts. So when Nate removed my shirt, I didn’t pretend to act shy.

After all, he had already seen everything. He watched me dress while he pretended to sleep. And I pretended not to know that he was watching me under those long, gorgeous man-lashes. But I could feel his gaze like a caress over my skin.

His hands slipped over my body, down my ribs, around my hips, and up again, until his thumbs rested just under my breasts. He paused, and I could tell it took a lot of effort to still his hands. He looked down at me with a serious expression on his face.

“Tell me to stop.” He practically demanded.

I lifted my chin, and stared into his eyes as I tried to weigh my options. Somehow, I was sure that if I told Nate to stop, he would cease and desist. He would take his hands off from my body, and likely turn his back until I retreated back to my own side of the room. However rough he might be around the edges, I could sense there was honor and pride in him. He would never take something that wasn’t being offered freely.

And if I didn’t stop him? My skin tingled with goosebumps at the thought.

I could be safe, I could be “good”, I could do the smart thing, and walk away. But I didn’t want to stop him.

Strange enough, even my wolf was panting for Nathan Straight. That had never happened before with any of the men I had dated previously. When things had gotten physical with my boyfriends in the past, she had simply tuned me out with an internal huff of disapproval. What was it about this man that had captivated even my spirit animal?

I stepped closer to him, and ran my hands over his chiseled body. The man didn’t have an ounce of adipose tissue. He wasn’t as big or bulky as some of the wolves I was used to, but his raw strength was undeniable. The spicy scent that tickled my nostrils had grown stronger, deeper, muskier, until I wanted to push my nose into his neck and inhale it like a drug.

Nate said I wasn’t a “one-night-stand-kind-of-girl.” It annoyed me that he was completely right. I wasn’t the kind of girl who played fast and loose. I wasn’t the kind of girl who messed around. I wasn’t a virgin, but I’d never had sex outside a committed, semi-long-term relationship.

Nate wasn’t offering a relationship, long or short. He'd made that perfectly clear. He wasn’t offering anything, except for that present moment.

Suddenly, I was very invested in proving to him that I could actually be that vixen who fell into bed with a sexy man in the passion of the moment, and then walked away when it was over. I was ready to demonstrate that I could walk through the fire, and come out the other side unscathed.

I let my hand wander down his chest, across the lumps of his washboard abs, around his narrow waist, to the small of his back. I found the indent of his spine and traced it down, until my wandering fingers found the elastic of his shorts, and then dove beneath, until my hand spread over the bare skin and firm muscle of his buttock. I squeezed him, just as he had squeezed my ass just moments before.

“I didn’t say stop,” I murmured, using my grip to pull him closer to my nearly-naked body. My nipples brushed against the hardness of his chest, and the already sensitive tips puckered in response.

He was a gentleman, he’d given me a chance to back out, but now that I had given my unspoken consent, his calloused hands moved freely over my breasts, pressing my nipples into his palms as his head swooped down. I lifted my head, and my lips met his, and that feeling of liquid heat seemed to flow from my lips, through my veins, to every cell in my body.

He’s a human, the thought drifted to me from a far distant corner of my mind. His metabolism is slower than mine, his body temperature is several degrees lower. His skin should feel cool against mine. My wolf wasn't crying out, mate, but Goddess, something felt different about this.

His lips moved over mine, firmly at first, and then softly, like he was coaxing something from me, gently persuading me to surrender to him. And when I did, when I opened with a sigh, he plundered my mouth with such skill that I found myself panting for breath, eyes half-closed, lips swollen, already quivering under his wandering hands.

My fingers had been dislodged from his clothing, and I sought a handhold on his broad shoulders, his biceps, his neck. I thought to bend him toward me, but he remained rigid and resistant. The bulge pressing against my lower belly left no doubt that he wanted me, but he was still holding himself back. I tore away from his mouth, and let my fingernails graze his back. “What’s wrong?” I asked him, my voice low and teasing. “Do you want me to stop?”

The muscles in his neck tensed, and his fingers settled at my waist, holding me in place. I realized this was a tipping point. Either he would use those strong hands to push me away, or he would draw me into him. “This is a mistake,” he warned.

“It is,” I agreed, whole-heartedly. Yes, I was already one-hundred-percent sure that I was making a huge, colossal, monumental mistake. There was absolutely nothing sane, rational or reasonable about what I was about to do. I knew next to nothing about this man, beyond the fact that he made me feel things I had never felt before. I was caught up in some kind of spell of seduction, a trance of passion, and I had absolutely no desire to shake myself out of it.

I wanted this. I wanted him.

I let my hands slither down his sides, until they found that sexy groove near his hip that disappeared into his shorts, like a dotted line on a treasure map, leading me to exactly what I sought. I slid one hand over his erection, making a satisfied noise as I measured his length in my hand. His equipment did not disappoint.

Nate swore under his breath, and the decision was made. The fingers at my waist didn’t push me away, rather they snagged my panties and pulled them lower, until they naturally slid down my thighs to the floor.