Now he had every intention of making her his. No one would ever hurt her again.

He skimmed his hands over her breasts, feeling the soft mounds, the taut buds at the tips. He leaned down, and with a flick of his tongue, he licked a rosy nipple. She groaned.

He encircled the other breast with his hand, caressing, lifting, and then he took the nipple in his mouth and sucked. She writhed underneath him. He loved the way she responded to him, wanting his caresses as much as he wanted to touch her. Being with her like this felt so right.

The room was icy cold, the comforter and blankets cast aside, but he was burning up. Her hands stroked down his back, and he ground against her mound still covered in the soft sweatpants. His. It brought to mind the subtle thought that by dressing her in his clothes, he’d already claimed her.

She slipped her fingers underneath his boxers and scored his buttocks lightly with her nails. God, he was ready to come.

“Hurry,” she whispered.

He was afraid she was in pain, but she smiled, her eyes dark with desire. He moved over and pulled the sweats off her gently, just in case she was still sore. She reached to tug off his boxers, watching when his cock sprang free.

He couldn’t imagine wanting anything more than to love that sweet body of hers. To cherish her for who she was. To be with her forever.

He sank a finger between her feminine lips and felt her heat, wetness, and readiness. And then began to stroke her bud, his mouth on hers, his tongue penetrating, licking, teasing, playing with hers.

Her hands were all over him, touching, caressing, kicking up the heat, and he wanted more. He stroked between her legs faster.

“Harder,” she begged.

He obliged, spreading her legs farther apart with his knee. He felt her tense and nearly stopped what he was doing, concerned she was hurting.

“Don’t… stop,” she implored, her voice tight with need.

Relieved that she craved completion, he stroked harder, faster, and felt her arch slightly beneath him.

“Ohh,” she said, elongating the word on one satisfied sigh.

Smiling to see her needs met, he didn’t wait, couldn’t wait. He pressed the tip of his cock at her entrance and then plunged inside. Deeper, until he was buried to the hilt. Then he pulled out and charged in again, mating with her, loving her, wanting her. He took her with him, making her his.

Elizabeth trembled with renewed need as she caressed Tom’s skin, loving the feel of his hard muscles moving as he drove into her, so frantic to find release. Heat pooled between her legs, encircling him, welcoming him. She felt lifted again to that higher plane of existence, the exhilaration sweeping her over the edge until she couldn’t hold on to the sheer joy of it and let go.

She thought she said his name as he came, filling her with a wash of warmth and wetness. Wonderful. Wicked. And she wanted to do it again.

Until the deep-seated worry that had haunted her own childhood came to bear—what about the trouble her own offspring would have when they were born part wolf, part coyote?

Chapter 19

Later that afternoon, the banging outside of the cabin began again, and Tom groaned. “It’s the damn outside shutters. The latch securing them is bent from the storm. I’ll see if I can fix it and get some more wood for the fire.” He climbed out of bed and hurried to dress. “You stay here.”

Elizabeth felt chilled and anxious as soon as he left the bed. “Maybe you should shift.”

“I’ll take my rifle. In wolf form, I can’t gather wood or do anything with the latch.”

As nonsensical as the notion was, she couldn’t help but worry that the men who had taken her hostage were outside waiting to pounce. Tom had accounted for all of them, but without seeing the dead men herself, she felt they were alive and still looked like they had before the crash.

She quickly got out of bed, searched through one of the drawers, and happily found some women’s clothing mixed in with the men’s—a sweatshirt and pants with Lelandi’s scent. Because they would be a better fit for her, Elizabeth pulled them on, feeling as good as new.

She hadn’t heard Tom leave the bedroom and turned to see him watching her, looking concerned.

“What?” she asked.

“Are you okay? You’re really not hurting any longer?”

She smiled. “After what happened early this morning and again a couple hours after that, you have to ask?”

He chuckled. “Sorry about that. After you scaring me half to death that I might lose you, our coming together in a mating was long overdue.” He sighed. “Sometimes you try to hide how you’re feeling, trying to be all alpha. I just wanted to make sure you really are all right.”

“Don’t apologize. I wanted everything you gave me and more. I feel great this morning.”

“Good.” He crossed the floor and gathered her in his arms, ignoring the banging outside the cabin. He kissed her mouth, promising lots more where that came from. “Won’t be too long.”

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him just as soundly back. “I’ll count the seconds,” she said cheerfully, but she worried about him being out there alone.

He smiled and kissed her nose, then strode out of the bedroom and grabbed his parka, hat, and gloves from the living room.

Still feeling insecure about him leaving, she pulled on some fluffy pink socks and followed after him.

He peered out the security peephole on the door, then walked over to the window where they’d heard the banging. He opened the inside shutters. The outside shutters were open and swinging in the wind. “Yeah, just like before. The latch has come undone. I’ll see if I can fix it.” He dug around in a kitchen drawer and pulled out a small hammer.