Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“I am honored that you accept me as a friend. I know how difficult it must be for you reconciling the man who abducted you with the man who wished your help.”
“You are two, Wolf and Rogan.”
“It is necessary sometimes.”
“Not confusing?” she asked.
“Not at all. The wolf calculates and waits and when needed attacks.”
“And Rogan?”
“Rogan is simply a man.”
Aliss stared at him and shook her head slowly. “You are not simply a man.”
“Who am I, then?”
A good question and one she could not answer. It was more what she felt when around him, while watching him with his people, acting as a leader, as a warrior, as a friend. How did she explain his empathy for the suffering of his people? How did she detail his honor in protecting his clan at all cost? How did she make clear how a mother’s unselfish love produced an unselfish son? How did she admit her admiration for a man who had loved and lost and yet was not afraid to love again?
No, he was not simply a man; he was much more.
“Have to think about the answer, do you?” he teased.
Laughter spilled easily from her lips though she blinked back the single tear caught in her eye. “It is difficult to define a man like yourself.”
“A compliment?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Perhaps one day I will find the words to explain.”
He smiled. “I look forward to that time.”
Aliss did too, for perhaps then they would meet again after parting. She did not like to think that once she left the Wolf clan she would never see Rogan again.
“Kiss him.”
She jumped, startled by Fiona’s voice in her head.
Rogan stood and rushed around the table to her side. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said with a forced smile.
“You are not a good liar.”
“I am—” Her mouth dropped open. Was she just about to admit to being a good liar?
“Yes?”
His one word challenged her to finish.
“Not!”
He roared with laughter, and when it subsided, he scooted in beside her on the bench.
He smelled of fresh earth like the fields after planting, pungent and delicious. The need to savor his taste overwhelmed her and she was close to reaching out and grabbing hold of him to kiss him.
Stop!
She warned herself, though it did little good, so she had no choice but to put distance between them.
Rogan, she realized, had a different idea, and as she slipped off the bench, he stood and blocked her escape.
He motioned her to come to him, a simple jerk of his hand as if he summoned her. She remained . . .
Defiant? Fearful?
Why did she not approach him?
He stretched his hand out to her. “Come to me, Aliss.”
He tempted her, his voice so soft and soothing. And she was so doubtful. What did she fear? Did she refuse to love? Fear to love? Fear interference from love? What always stopped her from accepting the attention of any man?
And why? Why did she want so desperately to kiss Rogan?
“I would never hurt you,” he said, keeping his hand stretched out to her.
“What do you want of me?”
“To taste you.”
She shivered and he hurried over to her, wrapping her in his warm, strong embrace.
“You are cold.”
She stared up into his eyes filled with a fiery brilliance that stirred her soul and enflamed her flesh.
“A taste,” he whispered. “Just a taste.”
He bent his head and claimed her lips before she could protest.
Chapter 12
Aliss melted at the first taste of him. Warm, delicious, and succulent like a favorite food you could not get enough of and wanted to savor forever and ever.
His lips melded with hers, encouraging a response, sparking her passion, urging a reaction, and she responded with all the fervor of an innocent who longed to experience more.
He obliged her, his tongue teasing her lips apart then darting into her mouth then out then slowly reintroducing himself, until she eagerly accepted him and dueled with his tongue like a young maiden new to the dance.
She relished the comfort of him and how he allowed her to play and experiment, yet taking charge and teaching her how a kiss was shared and enjoyed. He taught and pleasured her at the same time.
She moaned softly, wanting the kiss to last longer and he did not disappoint her. He kissed her long and hard and slow and soft. And just when she thought him finished he would begin again until she shivered in his arms.
His hand slipped under her blouse to her breast, his fingers gently kneading her flesh, his thumb repeatedly rubbing her nipple until it hardened to his touch.
He pressed against her and she felt him hard and strong, aching for her.
The thought jolted her like a shot of lightning from the sky. What was she doing? Was she crazy?
She tore herself away from him and he was left standing with empty arms.