Wolf Breeds - Jacob's Faith Part 34

And he did. He pulled her forward, the hard ridge of his c.o.c.k pressing against the heated flesh between her thighs.

"I want you," she whispered, staring up at him. "I've always wanted you, Jacob. I've always loved you."

She watched his jaw tighten.

"You don't want to hear that, do you?" Pain tore through her chest. She had promised herself she could be content with the mating, with his desire for her, but in a flas.h.i.+ng instant she realized how desperately she needed his love.

"Faith," he whispered huskily, his face creasing into a frown of such bitterness and pain that she wanted to scream out in denial of it.

"I don't want your pity." She shook her head, pus.h.i.+ng him away from her. "I want your love, Jacob."

She rose from the chair, stepping away from him, fighting the s.h.i.+vering need that poured over her. Now wasn't the time to f.u.c.k or fight, she reminded herself.

"We have a lot of work to do," she bit out when he didn't answer but rose to his feet instead. "I have several other sources to check-"

"It doesn't work that way, Faith," he growled as he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him firmly.

He was hard, hot, tense with his own need and his stubborn determination to believe no love existed. d.a.m.n him, she cursed him silently. She needed more than his c.o.c.k. She needed more in a mate than a man with a ready hard-on.

"Then how does it work, Jacob?" she whispered as his hands smoothed over her back, her hips. "I'm too tired to fight with you, and too tired to deny what I need as well. I don't want to be f.u.c.ked. I want to be loved."

Her chest tightened with pain, her eyes filling with tears. She hated her hormones, hated what they did to her. The incessant anger was bad enough, but this need was worse, more destroying than the six years of physical cravings she had endured.

"Don't cry, Faith." His voice was so low she could barely hear the words.

His hand rose to her head where he pressed her closer to his chest, his heart. She could feel it beating, a rough tattoo beneath her cheek. How could he not have a heart, or the love she needed so desperately?

"I don't cry." She sniffed, but she could feel the moisture on her cheeks, hear the thickness in her own voice.

"When I touch you, I want nothing more than to show you with my touch, my kiss, that you are the most important thing in my life," he sighed against her hair. "Always, Faith, you have held a part of me. A part I've never been able to hide from completely." His voice was soft, laden with pain, with his own fears. "But I won't give you an illusion. I won't lie to you and tell you something exists inside me that doesn't. I don't know love, baby. I have no idea what to compare it to, or how to recognize it. All I know, is that in all my life, my only weakness has been you."

Could that be love? Faith knew it was more than Jacob had ever given another living person. His reputation, even among the Breeds, was for mercilessness against the enemy, and cold hard resolve in all matters. She knew he had backed down many times in the face of her hormonal mood s.h.i.+fts and her anger. Had another Enforcer, male or female, challenged him as she had, he would have reacted much differently. His men weren't wary of him for no reason.

"Will you let me love you, Jacob?" she finally asked him softly. "I need that much. At least that much, Jacob, or I can't survive."

Chapter Twenty-Four.

If he had a heart, it would have broken at that moment. Pain sliced through Jacob's soul, ripping through his body, clenching every bone and muscle in an agony of protest. Her voice was soft, so gentle and sweet it destroyed him. And in it, he heard her love. As though her soul had opened and from it the nectar of an emotional banquet poured. It washed over him. It seeped into scars and wounds he never knew he had, deep within his own soul.

His eyes grew moist as he held her to his chest, sheltering her smaller body, wanting nothing more than to protest all the innocence and belief she still held. Still. Even after the life she had been raised in. Even after all the cruelties she had seen since their escape. Still, Faith believed in love. She made him want to go to his knees and beg her to let him in on the secret of holding onto that belief. How had she stayed so soft, so delicate inside and out, when he was so hard, so bitter? What act of supreme mercy had saved her?

He didn't know. But as he held her, he thanked G.o.d with everything inside him that she had been protected. That somehow His hand had sheltered her, protected her, held her heart intact.

"You humble me, Faith." He didn't know what to say to her. He didn't understand the twisting mora.s.s of emotions tearing him apart now.

Unfamiliar emotions. Feelings and sensations he had never known in his life. Equal parts gentleness and sharp chastis.e.m.e.nt, it flooded his body and his mind as nothing else ever had.

"I don't want to humble you, Jacob. I want to love you." Her hands moved over his back, her nails scratching erotically across the material covering him.

He barely stifled his groan. The scent of her need had increased. As though her emotional storm were somehow tied to the intensity of her arousal. It beckoned him, drugged him until he could think of little else but sinking his c.o.c.k deep inside her body. But there was a part of his soul that eased as well. Faith was his mate, and in her voice, in her actions, she had accepted him, even without the love that he knew she needed as well.

"You are everything to me." He fought his need to ease her, to give her whatever she desired, just because she desired it. But h.e.l.l, what did he know of love, besides what she had showed him? And G.o.d knew, he had never given her the devotion, the depth of sacrifice she had given him for six years.

"It's okay, Jacob." She shook her head to give him the escape he knew he needed.

But he also knew it wasn't all right. He was failing her. He couldn't fail her, not Faith. Not again.

"If I knew love, then I know all I would have would be for you," he whispered desperately. "If my heart were intact, then it would be filled with nothing but my love for you, Faith." He held onto her, his arms tightening around her as he felt her breath hitch, felt her tears against his chest. "Dear G.o.d in Heaven, Faith, I cannot bear hurting you. Please. Please, trip me on my a.s.s again or something. Anything. But do not cry over me."

"Not over you, you buffoon." She pushed away from him, wiping desperately at her cheeks as she stared up at him. "I'm crying for you. There's a difference, you know."

She was beautiful. Such a beautiful work of nature that she held him spellbound. Her face was flushed, her eyes so dark and wondrous sparkling with tears and emotions until they seemed filled with a thousand pinpoints of light. A frown drew her auburn brows low over her eyes, and her mouth, so perfectly formed, hinted at just the smallest pout. He had never seen a more beautiful woman. Had never wanted anything or anyone in his life as desperately as he wanted Faith right now.

"Then don't cry for me, either." He shook his head, feeling mesmerized by her. "Dammit, Faith." He raked his fingers through his hair, feeling adrift, lost in an emotional abyss he had no idea how to navigate. All he knew was that this was Faith, and that where it mattered most to her, he could feel himself failing her.

There was no way to apologize. No words that could express the wrenching emotional sensations so unfamiliar to him. He did the only thing he knew how to do. Fought to ease it the only way he knew how.

He jerked her into his arms, his lips covering hers, halting any more words, any more tears from her. His tongue pushed past her surprised lips, sweeping into her mouth with a desperation he could barely control. He needed her. Had to have her. He felt an overriding compulsion to imprint the taste and feel of his body upon her mind in a way she could never deny. In a way that would rea.s.sure her. Tempt her. Complete her.

Jacob felt her hands grip his shoulders, her nails biting into his flesh as she moaned into his kiss. She was hot and addictive. Sweetness and innocence and a sultry temptation that drove him insane.

He ate at her mouth, her lips, her tongue. The touch of her, the taste of her was burning into his soul. He needed more, needed her so hot, so desperate for him that she would never leave, never regret her love for him. Never regret that he didn't know how to love.

"Jacob." Her cry was music to his soul. Filled with hot need, dazed arousal. She made him feel like a conqueror, a rescuer. She made him feel alive. And Jacob knew that until she had walked into that dirty little bar, her arousal pulsing with each heartbeat, he hadn't lived. Not really. His life began with that night.

"I need you now," he growled as he tore his lips from hers, sweeping a path down her neck as his hands pushed beneath her s.h.i.+rt once more. "Right now, Faith."

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were hard, swollen, tipped with pebble hard nipples that pleaded for his attention, his caress. He tweaked the little points, glorying in her heated cry for more. She pressed closer to him, arching against him as she moaned deeply. And Jacob could do no more than give her what she needed so desperately.

He turned, his hands maneuvering her as his lips nipped at her neck, at the mark he left on her. The sensual little brand that marked her as his mate. His woman.

The door to the living room was closed, he knew none of his Enforcers would dare disturb him, but he was to the point that it wouldn't matter if they did. He couldn't stop. He had to be inside her, deep and tight, her muscles searing him as she climaxed around him.

She whimpered. A needy, breathy little sigh that made his blood pressure skyrocket and his c.o.c.k jerk in response.

"Right here," he whispered, hearing the desperation in his own voice as he turned her in his arms, bending her over the back of the chair.

"The chair?" Amus.e.m.e.nt and l.u.s.t vied for supremacy as she wiggled her b.u.t.t at him.

d.a.m.n, that was such a fine a.s.s. His hands cupped it, clenching on the rounded curves as an animalistic growl rumbled in his chest.

"The chair," he a.s.sured her as he reached around, his fingers quickly releasing the snap and zipper to her jeans.

Before she could do more than gasp in surprise, he had them around her ankles, as his fingers delved into the slick, wet heat of her p.u.s.s.y. He wanted to write a sappy poem to that particular luscious piece of flesh. An ode of reverence to the tight heat, the wet, creamy clasp of her c.u.n.t as he burrowed into it. He was a drowning man fighting for survival, and he was being done in by a soaked, needy p.u.s.s.y and a curvy tight a.s.s. He wanted to howl out his arousal, his supremacy, his victory that he alone had mated this woman.

"I'm going to f.u.c.k you until you scream." He released his pounding c.o.c.k just as quickly as he had stripped her of clothes. "I'm going to f.u.c.k you so hard and so deep, that you always know you belong to me. That you never doubt it, Faith. Never doubt what you are to me, and what I am to you-" He positioned the thick head at the entrance of her dripping v.a.g.i.n.a.