Call of the Highland Moon (The MacInnes Werewolves #1)

Call of the Highland Moon (The MacInnes Werewolves #1) Page 21

Did he have to stand so close? Carly’s breath caught a little when she realized exactly how few inches separated the two of them. And Gideon showed no interest in moving, just kept looking at her with that singular intensity she’d never seen in any other man’s gaze … especially when they were looking at her. She swallowed, licked her lips, thinking she would just say something to lighten the air around the two of them, since it seemed to have thickened, charged, in a matter of moments. When those golden eyes dropped to her mouth, however, any thoughts she might have had deserted her completely.

“Is it,” she finally rasped, then stopped to clear her throat. “Just out of curiosity, but it’s, um, not the full moon yet, is it?” Because the predatory vibe Gideon was giving off right now was making her as skittish as a stalked animal. And despite his assurances that she was in no danger, Carly wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be around when he stopped being human again. Although, she thought dazedly as Gideon’s eyes returned to hers, being devoured by this particular beast might be kind of … wonderful.

“No,” Gideon finally replied, his voice so soft and low it was barely recognizable. His eyes never moved from her face. “No, we’ve a few days yet. I won’t have to turn until then, but … it pulls at me.”

“Pulls at you?” she asked dazedly, helplessly ensnared, unable to tear her gaze away from him. His pupils had expanded, she noted with wonder, the color of his already unusual eyes going brighter, almost glowing. And then, in one quick, fluid movement, he was facing her directly, trapping her with her back to the sink, a hand braced against the counter on either side of her.

“The moon,” he almost sighed, and Carly, even through her haze, could sense that she was seeing another part of Gideon, the one that was much closer to the beast she’d rescued than the man she’d had dinner with. And she wondered, with that odd chemical reaction to him setting off fireworks in her blood, what it would be like to be with a man like this, who was human and animal so thoroughly entwined.

It was almost as though he read her mind. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he murmured as his breath fanned her face, making the final move that would close the space between them.

“Forgive you?”

“For this.” And then there was nothing for Carly but that glorious shock of connection with him as he dipped his head toward her. He brushed her lips once, twice with his own sinfully soft ones. Testing, it seemed to her, giving her one last chance to run before he crushed her to him. Before he claimed her fully.

But she’d been lost before he’d ever laid a hand on her, and now, as his tongue slipped into her mouth to mate with hers, Carly knew it, accepted it. Embraced it.

Yes.

All the blood in her veins seemed to surge and sing in the instant of that first, hesitant touch. One light touch. And then Gideon plunged. Carly slid into him like water, savoring the way every inch of her molded perfectly against him. The softness of her breasts pressed against the hard expanse of his chest while he slanted his mouth over hers again and again, nipping, licking at her lips until she gasped. This was what she’d wanted, needed, what the nameless thing that drew them together had been promising. This … and so much more. Carly arched up, winding her fingers in his thick, dark hair and tugging at him until he deepened the kiss again. She felt dizzy with the pleasure of it, drowning in the rich scents he seemed to carry with him of earth and the spice of dark, moonlit forests.

She moved restlessly against him, wanting to get closer, to crawl inside his skin, if need be. Gideon’s hands cruised over her arms, her back, his fingers slid into her hair, all in restless, perpetual movement, as though he wanted to touch all of her, every part of her, at once. Carly sighed against his mouth, taking his lower lip in to suckle at it briefly, an action that only seemed to intensify Gideon’s need. To her delight, he responded with a low, sexy growl.

He was at once so utterly foreign and so achingly familiar, Carly thought as the two of them moved rhythmically against each other, finding some hidden beat in the pulse of their kiss. She had always thought a kiss was nothing more, really, than a meeting of lips, a physical expression of a measure of attraction. She had never imagined it could be this, this falling into some warm and decadent abyss, rising and falling on a dark ocean of pure, liquid sensation.

Gideon’s mouth became rougher, more urgent as Carly felt herself being lifted to sit on the edge of the sink, allowing him better access to her … and her to him, she thought as she slid back against him, allowing Gideon to nudge his way between her thighs until he was hard against the very heat of her. More, she thought hazily, wrapping her legs around Gideon’s waist, shocked, on some level, that she was enjoying, even encouraging, his roughness.

He couldn’t seem to get his fill of her, plundering her mouth over and over again, dragging a strangled cry from Carly as he moved his hands beneath her sweater. Gideon’s warm, calloused palms created delicious friction with her own soft skin. She arched as he filled them with her breasts, then squeezed, hard. Carly wrapped her legs tighter around him, some unfamiliar thing within her rising up to urge her on, to take more, harder, faster, and above all, now.

“Gideon,” she hissed against his lips, her own deliciously bruised. Then, obeying an inner instinct she had never before known, she hooked her fingers into claws beneath his shirt, against the hot iron of his bare back, and dragged them slowly, excruciatingly, downward as she let her head drop back in invitation.

I submit, she thought madly as Gideon snarled, a sound at once wholly inhuman and utterly sexual. He scraped his teeth, sharper now and dangerous, down her jaw, across her neck, pausing to dip his tongue into the pulsing hollow at the base of it.

Yes, oh yes, I submit …

Gideon locked his hands beneath her, pulling Carly up against him, turning to carry her back into the dark, she knew, of her room, and her bed, though at this moment, she knew he could take her anywhere and she wouldn’t give a damn as long as he just took her. A darkly amusing thought of her earlier comments about her kitchen floor flitted through her mind as she tossed her hair back. She caught a glimpse of burning gold before she took his mouth again, moved to his ear to bite and lick. The throbbing between her legs was becoming unbearable as Gideon held her tight against him, and she dropped her mouth to his shoulder as he carried her, about to do the unthinkable, knowing he wanted it.

Bite you, she thought. I want to taste …

And then she caught something, the slightest flicker at the edge of her vision as they moved away, something that her eyes moved past at first but then returned to as though pulled by some unseen force. And as her own blue eyes, now wide and terrified, locked with the glittering yellow ones peering in at her from the darkness outside her window, Carly heard a strangled noise that sounded like a wounded, terrified animal.

With reality crashing down around her, it was precious seconds before Carly realized that the sound came from her.

“Gideon,” she finally managed.

“Yes, love,” he growled against her neck, oblivious to the sudden change in her, still wrapped up fully in what they’d had only a moment ago.

“G-Gideon,” Carly stammered again, unable to take her eyes from the window, feeling the malice from that other creature pouring through her. “The window. God.”

And he knew. Carly felt him tense against her, coiling to spring. Still, he managed to lower her with surprising gentleness to the ground before turning to see what she had seen.

“Bloody hell,” he snarled. And as the yellow eyes, mocking, they almost seemed, vanished into the darkness outside, a vicious, terrifying growl tore from Gideon’s lips. He was through the back door and gone, slamming out into the night, before Carly could move, much less collect herself enough to figure out what was happening.

Then, at last, it began to sink in. And amazingly, that was worse.

She curled into a ball where she was sitting, drawing her knees up against her chest, and held herself tightly to keep from shaking apart. Whatever wild thing had gotten into her only minutes ago had left her just as abruptly as it had come, leaving her cold, empty. And for the first time, truly afraid of the creature she’d let in.

He’d known. She was sure of it. Hadn’t been expecting it, necessarily, but then, hadn’t been entirely surprised, either. And that could mean only one thing. Gideon had lied to her, and in doing so, from the look of those burning eyes in the night, he had put her and everything she held dear in mortal danger. Why?

Lying Bastard.

She hated him.

And God, she hoped he was all right.

As a chilling howl rent the darkness somewhere in the distance, Carly dropped her head and wept, bitterly. What had she done?

Chapter Eight

SHE WAS A PRETTY LITTLE BITCH, HE’D GIVE GIDEON that much.

Jonas hulked in the darkness, just beyond the small circle of light cast by the glow from the woman’s kitchen, and watched, and waited … to see what he would see. And oh, he had seen, Jonas thought with a grim pleasure.

Malachi would be well pleased, of course. But more importantly, Master would be pleased. And then, he would be allowed the one thing that drove him, all that sustained him. He would be allowed the kill … and the feed. A thin rivulet of saliva slid from his mouth and hung, suspended, for a moment before falling to the snow. It was the only movement in a form that otherwise might have been mistaken for a statue. The whirling snow caught in his fur, collected on his back. Jonas hardly noticed, all of his attention fixed on the woman Gideon was pleasuring. Such a small, weak creature. Delicate. He was surprised, given what Malachi had told him about Gideon’s mother, that he would have chosen such a one to make his own.

Then again, it shouldn’t really have surprised him. In his short time in this world, Jonas had learned that these earthly shape-shifters had moved rather drastically away from their exalted roots and taken on some of the less desirable traits of their human charges. Weakness. A tendency toward an almost maudlin sentimentality. Love. Jonas wrinkled his nose in disgust. Master would be appalled at the little scene unfolding before him right now.