Read Online White Wolf 2: The Call of a Soul by Jianne Carlo - Free Book Online Page B

hair, and she let her legs flanking his hips fall open, giving him complete access. She squirmed and wriggled and ground down, trying to get him to move faster, but he grunted and held her to his rhythm.
    He tasted like manna from heaven, all smoky and wild and cinnamon sharp. Sweat slicked their skin and created a delicious friction when he moved over her nipples. The throbbing peaks went supersensitive, and the hair on his chest felt like crackling static. Her muscles clamped around the fat length of him, and the exquisite clenching bedazzled her senses. Her nostrils filled with his testosterone. His growled one-word orders had her flesh sweltering. His calloused palms and thumbs gripped her rear and thighs in a tempo that had her pulse spiking.
    “Up.” He eased her into a frog-legged sitting position.
    His hand cradled her breast; he rose on one elbow and took her nipple with his mouth. A hard suckle with teeth, tongue, and vacuum suction. Her vaginal walls went into a furious series of contractions—short, sharp ecstasy to the point of pain. She surrendered, savoring the myriad bounty of incredible sensations. All rational function fractured as the orgasm tornadoed through her, the whirlwind spinning her senses into oblivion.
    He grasped her hips and pounded into her, the rapid piston action sending her over the edge again. Her pussy milked him. His cock surged, growing thicker and harder with each luscious vaginal clutching. He reached between them and grazed her clit.
    “Mine.” His teeth clamped a spot between her shoulder and neck, and she climaxed again and again and again. She had gone limp long before he stopped moving, dimly aware of his roar when he jetted into her. Smiled when he hauled her tight against the rapid rise and fall of his sweaty torso.
    It took forever for her to regain control of her rasped breathing. Her ponytail had long since disintegrated, and her hair fell all over the two of them in a wild tangle of curls. His chest no longer heaved, and he combed her back with his fingers, drawing soft circles in larger and smaller increments. If this was cuddling, she wanted to hold on to the feeling for eternity.
    “You should’ve told me.” His voice startled her.
    “What?” She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to ruin the moment, didn’t want any intrusion on this perfection.
    “That it was your first time. I hurt you.”
    “Only for a few seconds. After that it was heaven.” Before she thought the better of it, Melanie blurted, “I thought you hated me. All the White family. Is this some kind of twisted revenge?”
    He went still, cupped her chin, and made her meet his stare. “You can’t seriously think that.”
    “I don’t know what to think.” She hated that her voice wavered, but refused to avert her gaze. “My father killed yours.”
    “You’re my mate.”
    She hooded her eyes and studied the way his chest hair twirled around his flat nipple, noticing the slight dent in the middle, while her mind raced in a thousand and one different directions.
    She was his mate? When had he known this? Why had he only now done something about it? Did it matter?
    Mrs. Dorland hated the White family.
    “I thought you said you were a half-breed.”
    “I am. My birth mother was a wolf, not a white wolf like your family. That doesn’t mean I don’t have the same mate-recognition as your kind.”
    Could it be true? “I don’t understand. I thought the wolf part was passed on through the male.”
    “I don’t have a whole lot of answers. That’s part of the reason Drake and I came back, to try and piece together what happened.” He chucked her chin. “That and the fact that I needed to see you, touch you, smell you every moment of the day. That you’re all I have been able to think about for five long months.”
    Something sweet and achy, something very much like hope, took seed in her chest, but it stuck in her craw and she couldn’t speak.
    “Stay with me today.”
    There it