Page 100 of Marked By Moonlight

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

The devotion between human and dog is often reciprocal; sometimes a dog is just as much master as pet.

—Man’s Best Friend: An Essential Guide to Dogs

After depositing the still unconscious Darius to a much-relieved staff, they headed home. Or to Gideon’s house, Claire silently amended. When had she started thinking of Gideon’s house as home?

An uncomfortable silence filled the air during the drive. She twisted her fingers in her lap until they were white and bloodless. What now? What did one say when all reason for conversation vanished? When their whole purpose for meeting, for interacting, had ceased to be?

Claire knew one thing for certain. She wasn’t sticking around to find out. She couldn’t bear facing him the day he realized she wasn’t who he thought, the day he discovered she wasn’t the woman he had so brashly claimed to love in that basement. Not even close.

She entered the house ahead of him. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face him. Best to end it now. She preferred that to witnessing his regret later when he realized she was just a woman. A plain, unexciting woman who didn’t inspire feelings of love.

“I’ll go upstairs and get my things. My parents must be really worried. They expected me to come back home after I got my things from school.” She tried to smile, but felt her lips wobble. “My mom’s probably called missing persons—”

Frowning, he interrupted her. “Claire—”

She threw up a hand to silence him. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’m lucky you found me and not some other agent.”

His eyes narrowed and he took a menacing step toward her. “Claire, don’t even say—”

“I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. I won’t ever forget that.” She backed away, afraid of what he would say if she let him. “I hope NODEAL takes you back. I know how important—”

He grabbed her by both arms and wrenched her against him. The anger in his eyes stopped her speech cold. “I don’t want your damned gratitude.”

Then he kissed her.

Claire stifled a moan of pleasure at the hard pressure of his lips on hers, forcing her lips to remain still and lifeless beneath his. His hands moved to her waist, slipping beneath her sundress to caress her back. The rough pads of his fingers feathered along her spine. Her skin broke out in goose bumps.

The blood pounded in her head, urging her to respond, but she couldn’t give in. Not this time. She no longer had an excuse. There wasn’t a beast within her anymore demanding she obey primitive sexual urges. It was time to think logically and behave rationally.

She shoved at his solid chest with the heels of her palms, arching her spine. His hands slid around to close over her breasts through the lacy cups of her bra. Her nipples hardened and puckered against his palms. His fingers dipped inside the lace, rolling over the tips until her breath quickened. She gripped the edge ofthe kitchen table behind her for support, gasping when he bent his head and lifted first one breast to his mouth, then the other, laving his velvet tongue over each rigid point before sucking them fully into the warmth of his mouth.

Nothing could come of this.

He didn’t really want her.

Lifting his head, he kissed her again. She sealed her lips tightly against his. Her lips trembled from the effort. She had to stop—

“Damn it,” he rasped against her mouth, “kiss me.” His fingers tightened on her shoulders.“Kiss me.”

That broken plea was her undoing. With a strangled cry, she surrendered, looping her arms around his neck and returning his kiss. Just one last time. As the real Claire. Not the lycan.

One more time, she vowed, and that would sustain her through the years ahead.

Lips meshing, tongues tangling, he wedged his hands between them. He slid her panties down until they dropped to her ankles. Freeing himself from his jeans, he grabbed her waist and effortlessly lifted her off the floor. With one arm around her waist, he dropped her on the kitchen table, impaling her with one slick thrust.

She gasped at his sudden fullness inside her, flattening her palms on the table and tilting her hips to meet his thrusts.

He panted, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as he thrust into her again and again.

He dipped his head for another kiss, drinking long and deep from her mouth. Heat spiraled from within her, reaching every nerve ending in her body. They moved against each other wildly and her gasps grew louder, twisting into moans.

“Come,” he growled into her ear, biting the lobe with his teeth. She shivered. Reaching between their bodies, he found her clit and rubbed. She shrieked, bucking beneath him. His fingers persisted, worked the sensitive spot as he moved in and out.

The knot of tension within her burst. She collapsed back on the table in a shuddering heap, replete, sated, head spinning.

Gideon surged inside her one final time before his head dropped against her neck. Neither moved for several moments. Claire wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, Gideon’s moist breath against her throat, the warm, musky scent of him filling her nostrils,himfilling her. Her fingers trailed through the silky soft hair that brushed his neck.

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