The Wolven by Deborah LeBlanc

he misread it and back away.
    Danyon slowly lowered the plates and placed them on the counter just below the cabinet. As he did, Shauna felt his breath on her right cheek, and her body reacted immediately, nipples hardening, arms trembling.
    “Shauna…” His voice was huskier now, deeper.
    She heard him, but more than his voice. All of him seemed to call to her—and it felt primal.
    Shauna turned to face him, and in less than a second, her lips were pressed against his.
    Danyon wrapped his arms around her, pulled her in close. Their kisses grew ravenous immediately, tongues probing, deeper, deeper, both craving more. His fingers traveled lightly along the nape of her neck, and Shauna moaned.
    In response, Danyon’s hand moved slowly down to her shoulder, his thumb latching on to the edge of the bathrobe near her collarbone and lowering it. Then his fingers trailed lower—lower still. By the time his fingertips reached the swell of her breast, the world had become a swirling kaleidoscope, and he was its fulcrum. He brushed the top of her left breast, then, keeping his touch feather-light, he moved toward her nipple. Stopping just short of the hardened nub, he circled it slowly with a finger, again and again, each time his fingers moving ever closer to her nipple, yet not…quite…touching it.
    Shauna gasped with desire, wanting to scream, Now! Now! And just when the ache in her body became so excruciating she thought she could bear no more, Danyon suddenly lifted her up and sat her gently on the counter.
    He looked into her eyes, looked into her —and she was lost.
    Neither said a word.
    None were needed.
    Nothing spoke louder than this.
    Danyon kissed her long and deep, then lowered his mouth to her breast. Shauna cried out, dug her fingers into his shoulders and pulled him closer. She felt frantic, alive, the need inside her mounting to the point of desperation. His hands moved deftly, slipping the bathrobe off her shoulders, then cupping both her breasts. Her nipples strained against his palms, and he moaned, lifted his head, kissed her lips, her neck.
    Shauna gasped, wrapped her hands behind his head, tangled her fingers in his hair. Part of her wanted to push away, to stay in control. But the other part of her, the one wrapped in his arms and melting under his touch, refused to listen.
    He stepped into her, parting her legs with his body. She opened her mouth to protest, to moan, and his tongue was inside her mouth, teasing, plunging. His hands slipped between her legs, and his thumb began to stroke her, circling the small mound that turned her body into liquid fire. She arched her back, and he groaned, breathed her name, then his fingers pressed into her hot wetness. Her breath came short and fast. She moved in rhythm with his fingers.
    The heat she’d felt emanating from him only moments ago, now felt like a furnace at full power. Combinedwith the heat from her own desire, she felt as if she were burning from the inside out.
    Then with one sure thrust of his fingers and swirl of his thumb, the orgasm that had been coiling inside her, taut, tight, like an over-wound spring, suddenly let go, and Shauna cried out from the force of it. She felt herself contract around his fingers, her wetness drenching them. He groaned her name, and she let out a guttural moan, sounds she’d never heard herself make before. Danyon growled with desire, and before Shauna knew it, he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen.
    As he walked, he kissed her lips, her eyes, her forehead. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clung to him. The only space and time and matter that existed were right here, right now, and him. She no longer had any desire to maintain control. In fact, she wanted to lose what little she had left. Lose it to him, fall into him with complete abandon.
    Within minutes, Danyon was lowering her down on a royal blue comforter atop a huge four-poster bed. She sank into it, her mind and body still