He balled his fists as Misty’s mouth moved, lips stretched to take him all in. He groaned. “Holy Mother Goddess.”
Misty pulled him closer. The Goddess wasn’t going to answer Graham’s prayer, but maybe she had answered it. Misty kept on with him, moving her tongue across the underside of his cock, licking him, nibbling a little.
Graham’s burning thirst, now that he wasn’t drinking Misty, had come roaring back, but for the moment, he didn’t care. His lower body was spreading its pleasure to the rest of him, rendering his dry throat a minor issue.
Graham’s hips began moving, slowly at first, then faster as Misty continued. She pulled him into her, tighter, encouraging him.
Damn the woman. She was torturing him. Punishing him for making her come four times and liking it.
Graham clenched his fists harder, feeling his nails crease his palms. The small pain was lost in the swamping need that poured through him, making every good intention evaporate like water from the desert floor.
He wanted to mate with this woman, take her in every position he knew and some he’d never tried. He wanted to curl up with Misty in the night, letting down every guard he’d ever put up, then wake up and take her again.
I want to mate with you under the light of the Mother Goddess and the Father God. I want you with me until we find the Summerland, and then float into brightness with you after that.
I want you sun and moon, body and soul. Joined. Forever.
Graham wanted her sweetness, her smile, her softness. And he wanted sex. Pure, wild, raw sex.
He touched Misty’s sleek hair, stopping himself from bunching it in his fist. He was too strong; he could hurt her. He stroked the satiny length of it, breaking the binding that held it in the ponytail. Long, flowing, warm. Graham would make her wear it down all the time.
Misty’s tongue rubbed him, and her mouth pulled, teeth scraping a little. She pressed her fingers into the firm flesh of his bu**ocks, and then he felt one finger slide between his cheeks.
The feeling was explosive. Graham threw his head back, words coming out of his mouth, but he had no idea what they were. He thought he said love in there, as well as plenty of swear words.
“Damn,” he said, and then he came.
Graham stopped himself pressing Misty to him, urging her to take him. But she didn’t let go. She drank him down as Graham spilled his seed, knowing he had to have this woman forever.
He rocked against her for a long time, the house around them silent except for the soft sounds of their pleasure. The intense joy that gripped him eased down into a warmth that was no less joyful.
Misty drew back, releasing him, and picked up a fallen towel to wipe her mouth. Graham found himself on the floor with her, gathering her to his lap, closing his arms all the way around her. He rocked her there, kissing her hair, drowning himself in her warmth and scent.
Misty brushed fingertips over his rough, unshaven cheek, her smile quiet. “There,” she said. “I knew I could wipe the grin off your face.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Misty had asked, “Do you want me to go?”
Offering, knowing Graham had been trying to push her away, out of his problems. Except Misty kept landing right in his problems again.
“Stay,” Graham had said into her hair, and he’d carried her upstairs.
Graham’s bedroom was the neatest in the house. Dougal’s room was a disaster area, Graham always surprised his nephew could find his own bed. Many times Dougal didn’t, sleeping on the floor as wolf. The twins were snuggled down together in a spare bedroom, which Graham supposed was theirs now.
Graham lay Misty in his own bed and covered her nakedness with blankets. She gave him a sleepy smile, one a little bit smug. She’d gotten Graham to let down his guard.
Wasn’t that hard, sweetheart.
Graham debated whether to join her. He’d want to touch her again if he did, wrap up in her, have sex with her. Mate with her.
Then he’d have to keep himself awake somehow, or he’d slide back into the dreams with the Fae. He had the feeling that the more encounters he had with Oison in his dreams, the more hold the Fae would have over him.
Graham adjusted the light blanket over Misty, the ceiling fan and blow of air-conditioning making the room cool. Out the window, he saw the sweep of Shiftertown, the darkness that was desert and mountains beyond, the moon, even fuller than last night, and six Shifters waiting for his attention at the edge of his front yard.
They were all Lupines, five male and one female—three clan leaders and three seconds. One of the leaders was from a clan from Graham’s Elko Shiftertown; the other two had been living here under Eric.
Graham growled in his throat, left Misty, who’d drifted off to sleep, grabbed a fresh pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, and went downstairs and outside.
The Lupines hadn’t moved into the yard—this was Graham’s territory, and they wouldn’t approach without invitation. They’d stand at the edge of the sidewalk instead, willing him out by sheer force of glare.
The leader of the Elko clan took one step forward. He’d probably lost the coin toss as to who got to address Graham and risk being attacked without mercy.
Graham stopped in the middle of his yard, remaining firmly on his territory and not inviting them in. “What the hell is this?”
“Are you going to mate with the human?” the Elko clan leader, Norval, said. He inhaled, the hot Nevada wind easily carrying to him Graham’s scent and everything he’d done with Misty. “We saw you.”