Free Wild Instinct by Sarah McCarty

while in a tantrum would definitely be seen as a threat.
    “Megan . . .” Sarah Anne protested as he walked away. Shit. He was so deep in Sarah’s mind, his thoughts were bleeding over. He quickly masked any thoughts of Megan and replaced them with the sensations of how good she felt in his arms, how satisfied he was to have found her, how sexy she looked with the buttons of her shirt straining open across her breasts. Desire whispered from him to her as he settled down behind the rocks in the corner. Partially shielded, he whispered his magic word once again. She fought, rising above the seduction he offered, pushing back, adding her energy to his. He put more force behind the suggestion. As his back hit the stone, he felt the give in her brain, and then there was nothing impeding the flow of energy.
    Sleep. The need washed over him as strongly as it washed over her, followed quickly by a sense of warmth, and unexpectedly . . . belonging. He couldn’t help smiling as his eyes closed. Belonging felt as good as he’d always imagined.

Nine
    HE was on fire, burning from the inside out. Every nerve ending straining toward the source of the scent filling his nostrils. Warm, willing woman. Garrett inhaled again as the woman shifted on his lap. And not just any woman. There was something special about her scent. Something intoxicating, the way whiskey only dreamed of being—spicy, earthy, right. He growled in his throat, turning her more fully into his embrace, not opening his eyes, just enjoying the flood of lush feminine delight into his senses as her ass slid over his groin.
    Come here, darling.
    She did, with a little sigh that went straight to his cock. Her arms wove around his neck. Had she heard his thought or was she just responding to the pressure of his hands? Was she real or was he dreaming? He wasn’t sure, but either way, he didn’t want to wake up. There was a depth to the connection he’d never experienced before. A seamless transition from his consciousness to hers. As he recognized that, he recognized something else. He could not only scent her desire; he could also hear it. The soft little sighs as her breasts melted into his chest, the need for his touch, the mental wish.
    Touch my breast. Please.
    The request whispered into his mind. She didn’t have to beg. There was nothing he wanted more than to take those soft mounds into his hands, his mouth. He cupped her gently, not wanting to startle her and break the magic. She fit his palm perfectly. The resilient flesh conformed to the hard surface.
    “Perfect.”
    The hard nub of her nipple slipped into the crease between his fingers in an erotic invitation. He squeezed, catching her gasp in his mouth, her surprise in his mind.
    “So good. It’s going to be so good between us.”
    “Yes.”
    It was a breathless sigh of surrender. Everything that was wolf in him snapped to attention. Everything that was male in him surged to the fore. His cock ached and his mind screamed. Mine.
    She stirred. In protest? It was too late for protest. She’d already given herself to him in the most elemental way that went far beyond the physical. She’d given him access to her thoughts. Physically joining their bodies would complete the tradition, but the victory was already his.
    A growl rumbled in his throat as he lowered his head, catching her lips with his, tasting her for . . . the first time? As sweet as honey, with a hint of pepper, her flavor spread though his mouth, enhancing the song of his senses. His. Only his. Her arm came around his neck, her breast pushed farther into his hand and her tight little rear slid across his cock in a sensual prelude. He had a vague sense of others around. A growl rumbled in his chest. The need to claim rose right along with his desire. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her cheek, nipping the line of her jaw.
    Her pleasure poured over him in a liquid rain. He didn’t close his lips as he found the cord on her neck. Her