Free Shifters of Silver Peak: A Very Shifty Christmas by Georgette St. Clair

I’m not.”
    Morgan hauled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.
    “I’ll keep you warm. I won’t have you catching your death of cold. You’re my mate – however temporarily – and it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”
    She couldn’t deny that she felt warm and safe clasped against his broad chest, encircled by his big, muscular arms, and the sheer size of him made her feel dainty and feminine. It was an unfamiliar sensation, given that she’d always taken up more space than the mean girls at school and people like Nelda seemed to think she should. She snuggled closer against him and felt her shivers begin to subside.
    She looked up into his blue gaze. “So your dad taught you how to build an igloo, huh? You must have really loved him.”
    His expression became shuttered. “I don’t really want to talk about it, Valerie,” he said, but he didn’t loosen his embrace or stop rubbing his palm up and down her back as he shared his body heat with her.
    She met his gaze. “My parents died when I was a little girl. I don’t even have memories of them. If I did, I’d talk about them just to keep their memories alive.”
    His hand stopped its soothing circling.
    “What’s the point of remembering?” He closed his eyes for a long moment and then met her gaze again.
    “I just wish that you could have seen the look on your face when you talked about making igloos with him. You looked…happier. Carefree. I’ve never seen that look on your face before.”
    “End of conversation.”
    “For you, maybe. I plan on continuing to talk. You know me, I’m unshuttupable. In fact, I think that—”
    “I do know one way to shut you up,” Morgan said.
    And with that he covered her mouth with his, kissing her thoroughly and possessively.
    When he pulled back, his eyes were dazed with desire and Valerie was trembling all over – no longer because of the cold.
    They were silent for long moments, their gazes locked, then their mouths clashed again and they were clutching at each other, breathing hard, unable to keep their hands from exploring each other’s bodies.
    Valerie fisted Morgan’s hair in her hands, holding him against her as they kissed and nipped and licked, while Morgan pushed her coat back from her shoulders, discarding it on the packed-snow floor of the igloo. He covered her plump breasts with his palms and groaned, then pinched her nipples through the thick knitted fabric of her sweater, making her whimper with desire. She tore impatiently at his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath, his shifter metabolism more than a match for the sub-zero temperatures.
    Morgan ripped his shirt away and yanked her sweater roughly over her head, holding her close and devouring her mouth as he fumbled with the catch of her bra. He whisked that away too, then rode her down onto the ground, laying her back against the padded softness of her coat and covering her body with the hot, muscular planes of his chest. He burned like a furnace.
    Valerie moaned and writhed against him, parting her thighs to invite him to lie between them and rolling her hips wantonly when she felt the hard length of his cock pressing against her pussy. She thought she might die if she didn’t feel him inside her soon. She was almost ready to beg.
    But there was no need. Morgan drew away for long enough to push down her jeans and his slacks, and she kicked the denim over her feet so she could wrap her legs around his hips, inviting him inside her.
    He reached down to wrap his fingers around his rigid length, lowering his head to kiss her breast and tease her nipple with his tongue. The tiny bud stood up as sharp and hard as a diamond, and the bite of ice in the air had nothing to do with it. She simply ached for his touch. He suckled, his eyes closed and his brows knitted in blissful concentration as he guided his erection between the petals of her pussy and pushed inside inch by torturous inch, groaning as he did so in a