The Zillionaire Vampire Cowboy's Secret Werewolf Babies Chapter 11

Once they were in her bedroom, Buffi came into his arms as if she’d never left, as if the last three years – or was it five? – had never been, as if it were only yesterday they’d made sweet feral love in the arbor.

He took her mouth with his, kissing her over and over. He could tell she felt the same – he could tell by her needy whimpers, by the way she clung to him, the way she pressed her body against his, that lithe, athletic body he remembered so well. His tongue dipped into her mouth, tasting the honey he’d never forgotten. A man could lose himself in her sweet, sweet kisses.

Need rose in him, fast and furious, need for this lupine temptress that drove him out of his mind. Kissing no longer enough, he found the pearly snaps of her shirt and ripped them open. He drew back, panting, and looked down at her, the shirt hanging open, her lush creamy breasts displayed above the lacy edge of her black bra.

She covered herself with her hands and he lifted his gaze to hers.

“I’ve changed,” she whispered, dropping her long lashes. “I’ve had babies. My body isn’t the way it used to be.”

“Buffi,” he groaned, and swept his hands over her silky skin. “Oh, Buffi. You’re beautiful.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never. Please, Buffi. Let me see you.”

She lowered her hands slowly and he pushed her shirt down over her shoulders, his gaze greedily taking in the sight of her womanly curves. “Beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.” It was true. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered and his need for her raged almost out of control.

She gave him a tremulous smile and then her hands were on him, too, at the buckle of his belt, undoing it, then pulling the belt free from his jeans with a long, slow pull. She gave him a sultry smile, that sexy wolf smile that had haunted his dreams and fantasies for the last three years – or was it five? Whatever.

“You have such a big....buckle,” she purred.

“It’s custom made,” he moaned. “With the Double Fang logo.” Then she flicked the leather belt against his ass with a bite of stinging pleasure. “Ah! Buffi! You vixen.”

She paused. “I’m a wolf,” she corrected him. “And don’t you forget it.”

“No. Never.” He kissed her once more.

She dropped the belt to the floor with a clunk of the heavy buckle and then she dropped to the floor, too, her fingers now working at the fly of his jeans. When her fingers closed around him, her touch on his throbbing manroot almost brought him to his knees, and once again he gasped her name. His jaw clenched. The vein in his temple throbbed.

He threaded his fingers through her pelt of golden hair and held her head as she used her mouth to take him to paradise, used her lips, her tongue, even, dammit, her teeth, those sharp predatory, meat-eating teeth that made him just a little nervous when she was having lunch downtown. He groaned.

She licked and nibbled — gently, thank you, God—until he saw stars, sensation building inside him bigger than the Lone Star state, hotter than a Texas heat wave, and he pulled away from her. “Stop!” he gasped, his hands holding her head.

She peered up at him, those bluebonnet eyes wide, her mouth wet and sexy and pouting. “But Rock...I want to...”

“Not like that,” he muttered, hauling her to her feet and crushing her in his arms as he kissed her again. “I want to be inside you.”

With vampire speed, he stripped her out of her clothes and got her flat on her back on the bed, but he got a little hung up trying to get his own jeans off over his custom-made Lucchese, hand-crafted lizard skin boots with diamond tipped spurs. Hopping from one foot to the other, he pulled off his boots and tossed them aside, then staggered out of his jeans as Buffi lay naked on the bed, watching him with luminous bluebonnet eyes. She held out her slender arms to him and he fell over her in a rush of lust and excitement and passion.

He buried his face in the side of her neck, inhaled the sweet scent of gardenias and tuberose. He opened his mouth on the soft flesh there and sucked.

“Rock?” Buffi moved away and met his eyes with a question. “Do you want to...?”

He closed his eyes. “No. I still can’t.”

“That’s okay.” With gentle hands she brought his mouth back to her neck where he licked and sucked...but didn’t draw blood.

He slipped a hand between them, brushed over the curls between her thighs, found her soft folds, her dewy nectar. “Ah, Buffi.” Her back arched and she opened to him, like a flower opening to the sun, like the gates of the Double Fang in calving season, like a favorite book opening to the good spot. He shifted lower to taste her nipples, to feast on the sweetness of her breasts. “So wet,” he murmured, his fingers still playing in her love flesh. “So wet for me.”

“Always, Rock.” Her hands threaded through his hair and held his head to her breast. “Always.”

He moved over her, between her athletic thighs, found his tallywhacker and directed it to her bower of bliss. Then Buffi went rigid beneath him. “Wait!”

He sucked air into his lungs, his body throbbing. “What?”

“Birth control. You need a condom.”

“No. I don’t.” He gritted his teeth, lust pulsing through him hot and hard. “You know it’s not the right time in the lunar cycle for your lycanthrope fertility to be at its peak.”

“That’s what you said last time,” she muttered. Then with a sigh of submission, she wrapped her arms and legs around him once more and took him into her body. They both cried out as they came together as one and fell into the flames.

Together they gasped and sighed, kissed and licked. Tension built in his love spuds, every muscle in his body tightening. He was racing to the finish, too fast, too fast. He, who prided himself on his rock-hard control, was out of control, thanks to Buffi, this wondrous wolf woman beneath him who cried out his name over and over.

“Rock, oh please Rock!”

He gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw and once again slipped his hand between them to find her button of love.

Her body tightened beneath him, quivering, her fingernails digging into his back in sharp bites of pain as she found her climax. His mind went empty, fireworks exploded in bright colors behind his eyelids, and he poured himself into her, shattering as they fell off the edge of the earth together.





Some time later — much, much later — Buffi drifted back down from another delicious cloud of bliss she’d been floating on. Something was digging into her back. She slipped a hand beneath herself and pulled out the handcuffs, then with a secret smile, tossed them aside. She ran a hand up and down over Rock’s rock-hard muscles. “Mmmm,” she said. “Oh, Rock. That was so good.”

They lay twined together in her bed, sheets tangled around them. Her body ached with sweet satisfaction. He was the only man who could ever make her feel this way. It had always been like that between them. Uncontrollable. Undeniable. Unclothed.

Rock’s hand found her breast and squeezed gently, and that exquisite tingling started again down low inside her. “I’ve missed you Rock,” she whispered.

“I missed you too. I never knew how much until I saw you again.” He nuzzled her hair.

Should she tell him? Should she take advantage of this tender moment and confess her secret? There could never be anything real between them if she kept the secret of his fatherhood from him. Was this the time to tell him the truth?

To be continued...Chapter Twelve


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