As he pulled the tie out of her hair and began loosening her braid, Gwen tried jerking away. He didn’t even seem to notice. Shit, she really needed him to back up. She didn’t want him to sense how fiercely her body reacted to him. “What are you doing?” And why wasn’t she slapping him or something?
“You always braid it.”
She frowned at the softly spoken complaint. “Is playing with people’s hair something you do often?”
“No.” Zander slid his fingers through the glossy cinnamon-brown curtain of silk. He almost moaned. It felt decadently soft against his skin, sending little electric shocks to his nerve endings. He expected his wolf to pull his usual shit and snarl at Zander for paying such attention to a female. This time, the wolf stayed in his hidey hole. The beast didn’t seem happy with the situation, but he’d apparently decided to stay out of it.
Gwen stood completely still as Zander toyed with her hair with a look of concentration on his face, like he was utterly absorbed by it. Her mouth twitched. “You’re making me think of a cat with a ball of yarn.”
His eyes slid to hers. “A cat?” He gave a slight punishing tug on her hair.
“Ow.” But she chuckled. She got the feeling they were . . . playing. She knew shifters loved to play.
Zander brought her hair to his face and inhaled deeply. Vanilla and coconut. “Smells almost as good as your scent.”
“I’m not going to ask what I smell like.” But she was curious.
“You smell . . . tempting.” Zander hadn’t meant to growl it, but it was hard not to when the spice of need was currently warming her scent. Even his wolf was affected.
“Tempting? That must be weird for you, considering you’re gay.”
“What?”
She winced. “Sorry, were you planning to stay in the closet a while longer? I won’t tell anyone, I swear. Although, honestly, you shouldn’t be embarrassed to tell people. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”
Zander almost gaped. “I’m not gay.” Where the fuck had she gotten that idea?
“Okay.”
He clenched his jaw at her placatory tone. “I’m not gay.”
“Like I said, okay. We can forget this conversation ever happened.”
Zander pressed his body against hers, shoving his rock-hard cock against her. “If I was gay, would I want to take you upstairs to my room and fuck you raw? Would I want to know what every inch of you tastes like?”
Gwen swallowed, taken aback. “I guess it would depend on how gay you were.” Right then, there was something on his face she’d never expected to see—sheer unadulterated need. Just that look had her senses flaring to life.
“Not gay, Gwen. But I should still let you walk away.” Zander didn’t like getting involved with humans. They didn’t always understand the ways of shifters. They didn’t always understand that casual sex wasn’t taboo to his kind, which meant that humans sometimes read more into it. Also, shifter sex could be rough and intense; humans were physically weaker and could be hurt easily.
None of those things held him back at that moment. It was something else. Something he couldn’t quite name—a primitive warning of danger that made no sense but sure as fuck gave him pause. Still, as she stared back at him with eyes that glittered with a need that matched his own, it was so fucking hard to let her go. Somehow, he managed to force his hands to release her hair, but it was a few moments before he could force himself to back up.
Gwen rolled back her shoulders, a little shaken by the heat in his eyes and just how much it seemed to physically hurt that he’d let go, but she wouldn’t let him see that. “Have a good night and enjoy your run.”
Zander narrowed his eyes. The words were cool, calm . . . like he hadn’t just had her trapped between him and the fridge. Like there wasn’t so much sexual tension in the air that it sat heavy on his chest. And that just pissed him off.
He took in her scent, needing it even as it drove him crazy. The spice of arousal was still there, just as compelling as the tension that pulsed between them. A tension that was electric. Hot. Basic. So powerful, it was crushing. It had him in a tight grip and was heating his blood like a fever, making his cock so hard it hurt. And as her even pearly-white teeth dug into that lower lip he wanted to bite, something in him just snapped.
“Fuck.” He was on her, hands sifting through her hair as he ravaged her mouth. She tasted of coffee and cream, and he needed more. He angled her head, going deeper, exploring every crevice of her mouth. She kissed him back, fingers digging into his shoulders . . . but there was a hesitancy there—he didn’t like it, wanted it gone.
Growling, he snaked his hand under her thigh and curled her leg around him, groaning at the feel of that soft skin. He rocked his hips into hers, grinding his cock against her, swallowing her gasp. She didn’t shy away. She tightened her leg around him, drawing him closer. Yeah, that was what he wanted.
Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of her taste. Couldn’t stop touching her. She had to use some kind of lotion because he’d never felt skin this soft. He wanted to lick it. Suck it. Mark it. Wanted to be sure no other male dared to touch her.
Gwen let her head fall back as he kissed his way down to her neck. She gasped as his teeth grazed her pulse. Then he bit it. Hard. Was he marking her? She hoped not. She didn’t entirely understand the whole marking thing, but she knew shifters were possessive beings, and they marked what they didn’t want to share. It should have snapped her out of the sexual fog, but she was too far gone.
She’d never known anything like this. Zander didn’t kiss, he feasted. Every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, every tug on her hair, every knowing touch of his hands—it was all a ruthless demand for more. No one had ever made her feel so wanted, so needed.
His powerful body was aggressive and dominant as it pushed against hers, crowding her, reminding her how much stronger he was. But she wasn’t scared. Her frustrated body screamed with the need for more. His touch somehow both soothed the ache and drove her wild.
Hell, no wonder there were shifter groupies out there. She no longer judged them. At all.
Zander snapped open the buttons of her shorts, shoved his hand down her panties, and smoothly thrust a finger inside her. He groaned. “So fucking wet.” Curving his finger just right, he worked her pussy hard, greedily swallowing every moan, loving the way she clawed at his back. “Come for me, Gwen. Come hard. Now.” He caught her strangled cry with his mouth. As her slick pussy rippled around his finger, he wished like fuck he was deep inside her. He had to have her right then.