Moon Lust Read online

  After only two steps Ivan tackled her. She felt like she’d been hit by a freight train as she stumbled to the ground.

  Sputtering around a mouthful of snow she looked up into his deep, forest eyes. “Why did you do that? I thought we were having a snowball fight, not playing football!”

  He cocked his head to the side, an endearing trait she’d noticed he affected when he was playful or curious. “But you ran.”

  “Of course I ran, you big jerk—I’m not going to just stand still and wait for your snowball to hit me!”

  “I thought you ran because you wanted me to chase you. Do you not like to play chase?”

  “Well, I—I don’t think I’ve every really thought about it.” What an odd question. She was suddenly very aware of his weight pressing down on her in the snow. His warm breath played over her face, and she found herself surprised by the long length of his black eyelashes.

  “Well I do…so long as I catch my prey.” With those words still sounding on the air between them, he swooped down and kissed her.

  It was the first intimate touch between them since the night she’d awakened from her fever. Remembering and dreaming of those first kisses had consumed her every waking thought and the reality was even better. He tasted like wild forest air and dark desire.

  The kiss grew heated and impassioned. Their breaths shuddered into each other’s mouths as their tongues dueled in a dance as old as time. Ivan’s hair tickled her face, its softness like that of an exotic fur.

  The snow and cold were forgotten as Brianna’s arms came around him to hold him closer. Ivan’s hips ground against hers. He growled into her mouth—an animalistic sound of need.

  Pulling away from her, he looked deep into her eyes—that sudden stillness he possessed coming over him. Several heartbeats passed as they panted into each other’s face, breath steaming the air between them.

  “I want you.” His voice was a guttural growl.

  “I—I want you too,” she admitted.

  “Then I will take you.” His eyes glowed with the words, and he flew to his feet with her already secured in his arms.

  He was very, very strong. She wasn’t a featherweight, but he bore her as though she were. It made her heart race with excitement. Swift and sure he carried her through the door of his log home, slamming the door shut with his foot, never pausing until they reached his bedroom. With gentle care he set her upon her feet before the bed.

  “We should get these wet clothes off,” he whispered, fighting to control his urge to roar his triumph into the night. She would soon be his. Only his.

  Agreeing wholeheartedly, she rushed to remove her coat, gloves and boots. Her hands shook with her eagerness, and she felt as giddy as a virgin. She heard a rending sound and looked up to see Ivan tearing at his clothes with the same eager abandon.

  Her fingers moved to unbutton her flannel shirt, but his hands were suddenly there to stop her. Her eyes rose to meet his, which were glowing so bright it was almost alarming.

  “Let me do that,” he said.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  With aching slowness he undressed her. With hands so tender and gentle that she barely felt their touch, he reverently caressed each new patch of skin as it was unveiled. It was like being seduced by butterflies—his soft and coaxing caresses playing over her skin like silken wings. She could see the hungry desire in his eyes and knew he was exerting great control over his passions to remain gentle with her.

  As he uncovered her breasts he went down on his knees before her and slowly, oh so slowly, moved his mouth to press a kiss against her nipple. He gathered her to him and buried his face between the pillows of her breasts and inhaled deeply. His instincts were at war within him, and his control slipped a notch as he fell upon her with renewed fervor.

  He plumped and squeezed her breasts in his hands and moved to slurp a pouting nipple into his mouth. His tongue and teeth caressed her before he widened his mouth and took in as much of her as he could. He suckled against her with a dark and endless hunger. Releasing her with an audible pop, at the last bringing his teeth scraping over her nipple, he drew a ragged moan from her parted lips. He then moved to the other breast and gave it the same attention.

  Ivan looked up from the breast that he suckled to see Brianna’s head flung back, breath shuddering from her parted lips. She tasted sweet and succulent, and he resisted the sudden urge to bite her—to brand her for his own. He wanted to imprint himself upon her, so that she could never see herself in the mirror without seeing him as well. It was a primal thing, a temptation he had to fight against for fear of scaring her away.

  With unsteady hands he unfastened her pants, lowering them with infinite care down over her hips and thighs. Her hands rested on his shoulders to brace her as she stepped from her clothing. She stood before him nude now, as he’d imagined her so many times in the past nights.

  He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against the soft swell of her tummy, unable to resist the urge to nip at her tender flesh with his teeth. Her breathing hitched, and he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Drawing her scent deep within him, he lifted one of her legs up over his shoulder—careful to steady her when she faltered.

  Brianna’s hands speared into his hair, and her eyes lowered to meet his. She knew what he wanted to do, but no man had ever offered to do such a thing for her. His eyes were so green they swamped her vision, making her tremble in his arms.

  “I want to taste you,” he said in his dark, sexy voice. It played over her like a black brush of velvet. Interpreting her moans and sighs as permission, he parted her with his fingers and licked her. His tongue roved from her opening to her clit where he lingered to press and flick against her.

  He licked her over and over, pausing only to suckle the flesh of her labia and clit. He lingered at her clit with heated kisses and licks, his lips, teeth, and tongue driving her wild. She moaned and writhed, but his hands were strong and kept her standing against his hungry mouth. Wet, slurping sounds filled the room, fueling their desire, urging them on. Ivan moaned against her, the vibrations playing along her like an earthquake.

  Her vaginal walls clenched, and he seemed to sense it. He speared his sinfully long tongue deep into her moist opening and thrust it into her like a cock. In and out his tongue fucked her, and his fingers came into play at her swollen, throbbing clit. She groaned as blood rushed to her cunt, swelling it further and bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. “Oh god,” she gasped.

  It broke over her with the force of an explosion. She flushed from her cheeks to her mons, body heated to the boiling point. Her legs buckled, and she would have fallen if not for his great strength supporting her. She cried out in a high keening wail. The tremors shook her for what seemed like an eternity, her vision going dark with the force of it.

  Ivan felt the tremors of her orgasm encase his tongue like a clenching fist. He knew that as long as he lived he would never forget the taste of her. The feel and scent of her—his woman.

  When her orgasm had subsided to small, deep tremors, he lowered her leg and stood. He remained still for a long moment, saying nothing—only staring into her eyes unblinking. It unsettled her until she saw his shoulders tremble with the effort to keep from pouncing on her. It sent an electric thrill of anticipation zinging through her.

  His eyes burned into hers, and his hands jerked her roughly against his hard body. “Taste yourself on my tongue,” he growled and kissed her. It was a branding kiss, one of possession and obsession.

  Without knowing how she got there, she suddenly found herself beneath him on the bed as he kissed her. His hands and mouth were everywhere—it was like being made love to by a hurricane. Her hands roved free and desperate over his body, playing over his taut muscles, lingering when he growled or sighed over a particular caress.

  He thrust her legs wide, holding her ankles in his large hands. Brianna saw his cock, poised and waiting before her. For a moment she felt a thrill of excitement
and surprise upon seeing the length and breadth of him. It would be a tight fit.

  She watched as he positioned the great, mushroomed head against her wet flesh and gasped as it began to sink into her. It stretched and burned her, his flesh so hot, like he was slipping a branding iron into her. He filled her, taking her more completely than she’d ever been before. When he was halfway sheathed he stopped, and she moaned.

  His jaw was tight, his eyes more intense than ever before. “You are mine now,” he vowed.

  “Don’t stop,” she begged, shameless.

  “Say it,” he demanded. “Say you are mine.”

  He was so earnest that she knew he would take her words as a promise. Thinking back over the past several days with him, she knew she was growing to truly love him. But could she promise herself to him? She knew that if she spoke the words there would be no going back for either of them. Ever.

  “Say it,” he growled again, withdrawing from her slightly, making her feel bereft and empty.

  “I—I’m yours.” Her voice shook.

  “Say it again.”

  “I’m yours. I’m yours!” she vowed, feeling as though her soul were somehow threading itself to his.

  “Mine,” he breathed, gifting her with a sweet kiss before thrusting to the hilt inside of her.

  They both groaned at the exquisite sensation. Unable to wait any longer, they began to rock back and forth against each other. Brianna brought her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles at the small of his back. He thrust in and out of her, somehow reaching deeper and deeper inside of her with every stroke.

  Soon they were both sweating with their efforts, the scent of sex and lust heady in the air. They caught each other’s cries with their mouths, moaning and gasping, trembling and writhing upon the bed. Ivan growled and bit sharply into her shoulder, teeth securing her beneath him as he thrust ever more fiercely into her. Brianna gasped at the pain, but it drove her passion up to a fevered pitch.

  They came together, Brianna’s body bucking beneath him, screaming in her wild ecstasy. Ivan’s body went taut inside of hers as he threw back his head on a booming roar. Her body milked his of its seed, her pussy squeezing like a greedy mouth on his cock.

  Ivan collapsed on her, his weight crushing her into the bed. She welcomed it, clutching him to her as her heart slowed. Their heavy breathing echoed through the room, slowly quieting until Brianna drifted off to sleep.

  Before her dreams could take her she heard a howl in the night and Ivan whispering the words, “The moon is growing.”

  Chapter Three

  Waxing Moon – one week later

  A voice spoke at her ear; “I want you again. Now.”

  Brianna roused from her exhausted sleep as she felt Ivan’s thick cock probe at her from behind.

  “We did it four times last night, Ivan. I’m tired,” she protested, even as her body awakened to the passion his appetite inspired within her.

  His teeth bit into the tender flesh between her neck and shoulder. He seemed to enjoy biting her, and she certainly liked it too. She grew damp, and then wet, as he raised her leg and brought it back over his hips. This opened her more fully to him, and the head of his cock slipped into her.

  “You can rest later. I need you now.” His words were harsh as he fought for control. He knew she was likely tender from their loving the night before, but his control was slipping more and more around her, and he couldn’t hold himself back.

  For the past week they’d spent their days and nights in each other’s arms. They’d explored their deepest and darkest desires and fed on one another like gluttons. Whenever she was near, his cock would grow hard as marble and his heart would race. He knew it was the same for her, that she was just as hungry for him. Her dark eyes would flare and heat whenever he was near.

  When they weren’t making love they were spending their time talking and learning about each other. The more Ivan learned about Brianna the more he grew to love her. Love—it was too pale a description for the emotion he felt for her. She cared about the same things he did, she liked the same music and shared many of the same hobbies. She was intelligent, kind, and passionate. She was his mate, the woman of his dreams. His match in every way.

  He found it difficult sometimes to share with her all the secrets he had guarded during his life. But slowly he was revealing them to her, preparing her for the knowledge he knew she must be given—must accept—for them to be truly mated. There wasn’t much more time to coax her into belief or acceptance, but he was trying with each new revelation shared between them.

  He wasn’t like other men. He hoped she could accept it, and grow to love him because of it—not in spite of it.

  Feeling her wet heat surround the head of his cock, he thrust into her, resting against the mouth of her womb. He tried to calm his breathing, to cool his ardor, but it was useless. She was too much of a temptation, and he was soon thrusting in and out of her with firm strokes.

  “Am I hurting you, my little one?” he asked in a thick Russian accent. He breathed a sigh of relief when she assured him he wasn’t. She moaned beneath him, and he couldn’t hold back a growl of satisfaction. He licked his thumb and forefinger, using the wetness on her nipple, which grew hard like a diamond under his attention.

  He thrust into her, feeling her flooding wetness soaking them both. Knowing he was close to his orgasm, his hand moved from her nipple. He moved his hand lower, and found her swollen clit, massaging in the way he knew she liked best. He felt the first, faint tremors of her climax and let loose of his iron control.

  Brianna’s body felt swollen with her passion and need. No matter how often or how thoroughly they loved, it felt altogether new and exciting every time. She moaned as his hand roved over her with a masterful touch. He played her like an instrument, knowing just when to press and when to retreat to make her nerves sing with pleasure.

  His cock filled and stretched her. In the last few days, she’d felt empty and bereft if he wasn’t inside her. Her body felt like a separate and self-serving thing, content only when they were in each other’s arms. She couldn’t deny him anything. It was as frightening as it was magical.

  As his fingers plucked and massaged her clit, she came, clamping like a vise down upon his cock as he pumped his seed into her. Ivan cried out, a broken, ragged sound that thrilled her even as she cried out in unison.

  After a few moments their breathing had calmed. “Go back to sleep, Bri. I’ll make us some breakfast,” he said with a kiss to her ear. She felt him rise from the bed and was struck with an idea.

  “It’s not more venison is it? I don’t think my stomach can take much more venison—no matter how you prepare it,” she said with a smile, thinking back to all the different dishes he’d concocted with venison being the main ingredient.

  He smiled back. “How about wild hare then?”

  “Why all the meat? Why not eggs or cereal? Hell, I’d eat oatmeal—and I hate oatmeal,” she laughed.

  “Eggs will not keep very long, and I can’t have any chickens about. There are wolves, in case you weren’t aware.” His grin was positively feral. “Besides, this is the best time of the month for hunting, right before the full moon.”

  “Yuck. You know you talk like a woman with PMS, mentioning the phases of the moon and junk all the time,” she laughed, but he remained oddly still and silent. She ignored it, not liking the niggling suspicion that if she probed too deep she would be opening the proverbial Pandora’s box. “Why don’t you surprise me then,” she asked with a grin.

  “I think I can manage that,” he said with a grin of his own, and donning a thick robe he left for the kitchen. With a laugh and a girlish squeal she burrowed beneath the covers.

  * * * * *

  “The moon is growing,” he whispered. If she hadn’t been nestled in his arms at the window she wouldn’t have heard him.

  “You know, you must be a closet astronomer,” she teased. “You’ve said that before.”

  He
merely grunted, his chest vibrating under her ear, and she snuggled deeper in his embrace. He’d gained back the flesh that he’d lost, his muscles firm and bulging beneath her, making her feel safe and loved.

  “It’s so bright,” he said in a singsong voice. He was wound tight beneath her; she could almost feel the contained energy pouring off of him in waves.

  “It will be a full moon in a couple of days,” she agreed, worried for reasons she couldn’t fathom.

  “A full moon.” He lingered over the last word so that it sounded like ‘moooooon’.

  A single howl ruptured the quiet of the night. She shivered.

  Ivan’s hand tilted her face up into the moonlight. He’d gone still in that odd way of his, emerald eyes boring into hers. She could see his pupils widening and closing over and over, like a telescope lens. His eyes were alight with a strange inner fire.

  He breathed deeply, as if drawing her scent deep into his lungs. Nostrils flaring, eyes flashing, he seemed more animal than man. It unnerved her, but despite that her heart raced with excitement. Ivan was the most dangerous and attractive man she’d ever met, and she loved him. He thrilled her, moved her. She couldn’t imagine how she’d ever lived without him in her life.

  She wanted him. Suddenly, desperately, she had to have him.

  Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his, hearing him make a sound like a whimper before he crushed her to him. He grew wild, tearing at her clothes and growling with the same desperate hunger she felt. With amazing strength he lifted them both from the chair on which they’d been cuddled to bring her before the window.

  He turned her from him, coming behind her and quickly removing the rest of her clothing. She stood there beneath the light of the moon, feeling a bestial lust overtake her. Ivan bit her neck, and she moaned. With rough hands he pulled her back against him, and she felt his naked flesh press tightly to hers.

  Their skin grew heated, his burning at her back like a roaring fire. He bent her forward and thrust fully into her, balls slapping against her as he slid home.