Page 40 of Kin of the Wolf

“Did you hold my boob while I slept?” I smiled up at him, tempted to lift my lips and invite a kiss.

He snorted softly. “I refrained. That would have been presumptuous.”

“You did it before whileyouslept.”

“A man can’t be held responsible for what his body does while he’s unconscious.”

Since I’d apparently beennuzzlinghim while I’d been knocked out, I didn’t tease him further. I merely lifted a hand to his face above mine, brushing my fingers along his strong jaw, the beard stubble bristly against my skin.

“Maybe you should grow this out,” I murmured. “So it would be softer and lusher.”

“Like my fur when I’m a wolf?”

“Maybe.”

“My chin hair is unfortunately a little coarser and not as appealing. I’ve tried the full-on beard before.”

“Hm.” I pushed my hand further up the side of his face, threading my fingers into his wavy hair. That was lusher, cool as it fell against my skin, and I kneaded his scalp.

“Luna,” Duncan murmured, closing his eyes, longing in his tone.

It pleased me that my touch could make him feel that way, that he was drawn to me for multiple reasons. “Yes?”

With a growl of desire, he lowered his lips to mine. That growl, feral and a little dangerous, tantalized me, making me aware ofwhat he was, a powerful werewolf, not only a playful friend and faithful protector. He was every bit as strong and virile as his teasing jokes promised, and I wanted to be with him.

His kiss was hungry, his body tense underneath me, muscles taut with restraint. I realized he’d probably been thinking of doing this all the while he’d held me and protected me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, shifting in his lap for better access to him.

His hand drifted down my throat, stroking my curves through my clothes, and I arched toward him, inviting him to explore. As we kissed, lips brushing, tongues stroking, his fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt and trailed over my bare abdomen. My muscles quivered with delight at his caress, and when he cupped my breast, stroking me through my bra, heat flushed my entire body, heat and desire.

I kissed him harder, nipping at his lip, my fingers curling into his scalp. Need throbbed within me, almost startling in its intensity. By the moon, I hadn’t thought I could still be this aroused by a man.

His fingers slid across my abdomen again, trailing lower this time, and I squirmed, almost panting as I pressed up toward him, willing him to unfasten my jeans, to touch more of me.

Another growl drifted from him, sounding far more animal than human. I could feel his hard desire against my body, and he groaned when I shifted, rubbing against him as we kissed and stroked each other. Knowing he was into this excited me.Heexcited me. I stroked him through his shirt, then pushed the fabric upward, wanting to feel his bare body, his hard muscles.

Our lips parted only long enough for the removal of shirts, first his and then mine. As our mouths crashed back together, like the surf meeting the sand, he slid my bra off with practiced ease. He wasn’t an inexperienced lover, but I hadn’t expected that at his age. As he stroked my breast, sensitive flesh finally bare to him, Ifelt with certainty that he had the experience to know how to bring me great pleasure. And I wanted that more than I’d wanted anything for a long time.

But something intruded upon my senses, the awareness that we weren’t alone. I sensed, at the top of the gully where they could look down upon us, two other werewolves.

My first thought was that we were in danger, that my cousins or some other enemy had found us, but this… This was worse. That was my mother and Rosaria, the wise wolf. I’d forgotten Duncan had said he’d asked my mother to get her.

“Duncan,” I murmured, my lips pressed against his.

It was hard to pull away, to stop. My fingers kept running over his shoulders and the back of his head, rubbing and kneading. I longed to give in to passion, to let Duncan take me.

He hadn’t yet stopped stroking and kissing me. With his greater senses, he had to know witnesses were up there. Did he not care? Or maybe he was so distracted that hedidn’tknow we had an audience.

“I think she’s okay,” came distant amused words. Rosaria.

“Apparently so,” my mother said. “I hope he gets her with child.”

I groaned, not, this time, because of arousal. Duncan stiffened, also not because of arousal, and turned his head to look toward them.

Silver light bathed his face, and only then did I realize that the medallion still around my neck had started glowing. Above me, Duncan was breathing as heavily as I, and sweat dampened his skin. He was beautiful and magnificent and… his face was hard when he looked toward our observers. Observers who, thanks to the magical light, could see everything we were doing as if a roadside flare had been set up on my chest. I groaned again.

Rosaria and my mother must have noticed us looking at them. They backed away, but their voices continued to float down.

“I want grandchildren,” my mom said.

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