Dark Wolf Rising (Bloodrunners) by Rhyannon Byrd Page A

of a claw or fang, and the consequences would be disastrous.
    “Lie down,” he rumbled in a low voice, reaching for one of her small, sneaker-covered feet. “Let’s see if we can get you more comfortable. Okay?”
    “Just hurry!” she panted, her voice cracking, and he could feel the need rising inside her. Could scent it on her skin. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, imploring him for help with her glistening eyes.
    “Shh. It’s okay. I’ll...take care of you.” And probably lose my mind in the process, but hell, it’s not like I was all that sane to begin with.
    If he had been, he never would have ended up in this kind of no-win situation, where every possible scenario and action seemed to make him a jerk. His stomach twisted, but he choked back his unease and turned his focus on Chelsea, determined to make it as easy for her as he could.
    Tossing the shoe over his shoulder, he pulled off her sock and grinned down at the foot he held in his hand. “I was right.”
    “About what?”
    He ran the pad of his thumb over her red toenails. “Your feet are adorable.”
    She smiled up at him with a wobbly, kinda shy curve of her lips as he dealt with the other shoe and sock, but he could see the pain building in her gaze, the normally bright blue bleeding into something dark and turbulent. “Take off my clothes, Eric.” They were soft, almost silent words, but he flinched as if she’d shouted them.
    “I can’t.” His voice was hoarse...tight, the phrase No way in hell looping through his head again and again. He’d get her off, because it was what she needed, but the more barriers he could keep between them while he did it, the better.
    Stretching out on the bed beside her, he pulled her close, her back to his front as they lay on their sides. He wondered if she could feel the pounding of his heart thudding against her spine as he closed his eyes and curved a hand over her hip, slowly sliding it between her legs. She jolted at the intimate contact, even though she still wore her jeans. But Eric could feel the heat of her through the already-damp denim, his jaw aching as he gritted his teeth and fought to maintain control. Ignoring his own raging need, he buried his face in her silky hair and used two fingertips to apply pressure where she needed it most—rubbing...stroking...working that sensitive peak with every ounce of skill he’d managed to acquire over the years.
    It didn’t take long. She came hard and fast, her nails digging into his forearm as she held on, rocking against his stroking fingers while a sharp, keening sound slipped past her lips. But it wasn’t enough. If anything, the orgasm seemed to rocket her body into an even deeper level of craving and pain. “I...I need more. Please. It hurts, Eric. I need...damn it, I need you inside me!”
    He swore under his breath as he reached for the button on her jeans, his hand shaking as he worked down the zipper. Without giving himself time to think about what he was doing—how hard it was going to hit him—he pushed his hand under the elastic band of her panties and thought, Oh, yeah...I am so going to hell for this. Because at that exact moment, she shifted onto her back, spreading her legs, her knees falling toward her sides, and he couldn’t stop his heavy gaze from locking on to the erotic sight of his hand shoved down the front of her pants. Tight white panties were digging into his thick wrist, dark curls tickling his palm as he reached deeper, stroking his roughened fingertips over the soft, swollen lips of her sex. She was tender and slick, like hot, wet silk, burning to the touch.
    He stroked around the puffy opening to her body, then moved back up to the hard little knot of her clit, trying not to think about how incredibly soft she was...how wet. But it was impossible. He couldn’t stop picturing how it would be if she wasn’t human. No hesitation. No restraint. He’d have already spread her open and shoved his face against her,