Blackwolf's Redemption by Sandra Marton Page B

outside.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    S IENNA had slept, but badly.
    Frightening dreams that left her on the knife-edge of panic kept waking her. Or maybe it was the cold, seeping into her bones. She’d been able to see her breath condensing in the increasingly cold room.
    Foolish, not to have climbed into Jesse’s bed, she’d thought, but by the time she admitted it, the effort to do it seemed too great and she’d tumbled back into uneasy sleep.
    Then, as if in a dream, she’d heard Jesse speak her name. Felt his arms closing around her, carrying her away from the cold room, from her nightmares, bringing her to warmth and safety simply because he held her.
    And then he kissed her.
    The kiss roused her from sleep, sent delicious shock waves coursing through her body, made her feel alive and secure….
    Made her want more.
    She came fully awake, aware that he was holding her as if she were made of glass, his powerful body taut with awareness, as if he knew he could crush her at any moment.
    But restraint wasn’t what she wanted.
    She wanted Jesse, his hunger, his desire. She wanted the oblivion she knew he could bring her.
    “Jesse,” she said, and wound her arms around his neck, lifted herself to him. And when she sensed him still holding back, she brought her mouth to his and nipped at his lip.
    His reaction was as swift as her racing heart.
    He groaned like a man in pain, rolled her onto her back and took command.
    He plunged his hands into her hair, framed her face, brought it to his. No gentle kiss as it had been before. This time, his lips were hungry and demanding. His breathing was ragged. Hers was, too. She heard herself making soft moans of impassioned longing.
    He slid one arm beneath her and raised her against him.
    Yes. Oh, yes. The heavy thrust of his erection against her belly was the best possible affirmation that all of this was really happening.
    Her eyes flew open when he pulled back the blanket.
    “Don’t stop,” she said, “please, Jesse, don’t—”
    “Are you sure?”
    She nodded. “Very sure.”
    His eyes darkened. “I want to see you.”
    His voice was low and rough and so sexy she thought she might come just from hearing it. Her hands went to the hem of her sweatshirt and she began to lift it.
    “No,” he said in that same gruff whisper. “I’ll do it.”
    He pushed her hands aside and slowly, so slowly she thought she might die, he drew the shirt over her head and tossed it aside.
    He smiled. “I almost forgot those two T-shirts,” he said softly.
    And stripped them away, as well.
    His smile faded. His gaze fell to her breasts. The look he gave her now was everything a woman could ever ask for from her lover. It was as hot, as filled with dangerous promise, as the fire.
    She felt her nipples tighten, her breasts lift with desire. Hehad yet to touch her. Still, she had never before been so aware of her body’s reactions to a man.
    But then, there’d never been a man like Jesse.
    The feeling was exciting. Even frightening. She wanted it never, ever to stop.
    “Jesse?” she whispered.
    He raised his head. Her breath caught. His beautiful face was all bones and angles and sharply etched planes. He looked at her for what seemed like forever, and then, eyes on hers, he touched his hand to her breast. One soft touch, the brush of his knuckles over her nipple.
    A sob burst from her throat.
    “It’s too much,” she said. “Jesse, Jesse…”
    His thumb whispered over the taut bud. Once. Twice. Again. Sienna sobbed his name. Caught his hand but he ignored her, gently pushed her hand aside and went on stroking her, touching her before, slowly, he dipped his head and put his mouth to her other breast. Her other nipple. Sucked it into his hot, wet mouth.
    “Jesse, please. I’m going to—I’m going to—”
    The world stopped.
    She gave a cry as wild as the storm and Jesse growled her name, lifted his head and took possession of her mouth, swallowing her cry of completion, making it a part of