He was hot, but she fanned the flames with the way she knelt, her knees wide, feet tucked under her, her eyes on his as she allowed him to guide her head to his cock. He could see droplets of moisture, glittering like diamonds caught in the whorls of tiny curls at the junction of her legs. She looked impossibly sexy, her large eyes drenched in purple, the diamond burst beckoning toward heaven.
“Your mouth,” he demanded, harshly, a warning growl rumbling in his throat and chest. “Give me your damn mouth.” He knew what she was doing, making him wait for it, driving him toward the edge of his control, but he was already there.
Damn it, Pepper, don’ be stupid. You can see how I am. Don’ push me any further. You already have marks all over your body. He was rough with her and he knew the violence swirling in him would only make him rougher. “Get your fuckin’ mouth on me right now.” He gripped her long, thick hair harder, pushing her face toward his inflamed cock. He had to have her mouth wrapped around him right then or he might not make it through the next few minutes.
There was something truly sensual in seeing her kneeling at his feet, stripped of all clothing, naked, her skin gleaming, breasts high and firm, nipples tight and inviting, her legs open for him while he was fully clothed. His harsh language didn’t make her wince or in any way deter her. She was his match in every way. If she was a little afraid of their union, it only seemed to add to the hunger raging between them.
The head of his cock bumped impressively against her mouth and she slid her small, pink tongue out to lick at him delicately. He groaned as fire shot through his body, a lightning strike that shook him. She lapped at him like a cat might with a bowl of cream, licking up and down his shaft and swirling over the sensitive, flared head. She was killing him.
He jerked her hair, forcing her eyes to meet his. She had the audacity to smile at him. Her tongue teased along her own lips, licking up every pearly drop. His gut twisted and his cock, so long, so thick and so aroused, hurt like a son of a bitch.
“Fils de putain,” he ground out in Cajun French.
He forced his finger to the side of her mouth, parting her lips and shoving himself deep. His cock was instantly in paradise, her hot, wet mouth wrapped tightly around him. She suckled strongly, pulling him deep, her tongue dancing up and down his shaft, teasing the sweet spot under the flared head and then swiping over it as she drew him out and took him deep again. Her purr vibrated through his cock.
Her mouth grew hotter until he was in a tube of fire, her need to please him consuming him. Burning. Scorching. So tight like the tightest fist. Pulling strongly and then letting him go to give her talented tongue a chance to dance once more down his shaft to his sac and then back up. So greedy. She was greedy as she suckled, clamping tight to milk him.
His cock swelled more, impossibly so, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond that hot mouth robbing him of his mind, of all control. He brought both hands to her hair, on either side, guiding her, feeling the swell of his cock in the torturous glide of her mouth. He held her head still and pushed lightly with his hips, testing, making certain she could handle him.
He held her absolutely still and thrust, his cock bumping the back of her throat. Her eyes widened in a kind of shock. Vicious pleasure burst through him, just like the starburst in those purple eyes of hers.
He withdrew and thrust a second time, allowing the brutal burst of sensation to engulf him, to take him out of his own body and push him careening toward the edge of all control. He didn’t give her much choice, but then she didn’t ask for it either. She relaxed her throat and suddenly he felt the tight hot, convulsing grip and lost all control. His body jerked. His hips surged. His cock exploded, pouring his seed down her throat.
Still, even that wasn’t enough to sate his body. He had known it wouldn’t be. He had known taking her any way would never be enough. He pulled out of her mouth, his eyes on her face. Her lips were swollen and there was evidence of him there. Satisfaction poured into him. His. She was his.
Her breasts were rose colored, her nipples tight, hard buds. Her breathing came in gasps and pants and there were more diamond droplets in the curls between her legs. She leaned forward and stroked him with her tongue, lapping gently, careful of his sensitivity. She licked up his shaft and around the head, soothing this time, as if she really were a cat caring for him. Up and down his shaft, along his sac and over the flared head.
He was growing harder with every stroke, just as if he hadn’t already expended seed, energy and passion.
Chapter 10
With one hand, Wyatt ripped his shirt off and flung it to one side. His skin felt as scorching hot as his cock. She had some kind of biochemical in her mouth, something that fed his arousal. With every lap of her tongue, she inflamed him more. The same biochemical had to be emitted through the pads of her fingers because each stroke of her hands, the touch of her fingers, made his head roar with hunger.
He gripped her shoulders and forcefully pushed her backward to the floor. There was no give there, nothing to cushion her when he pounded into her. He stood over her as she sprawled out, her dark hair cascading around her, dark as a raven’s wing, pools of it spilling in whorls, masses of silk against the old, discolored wood. Her knees were open and she started to move, to close them.
“Don’,” he instructed harshly. “Stay just like that.”
She swallowed and nodded, subsiding, allowing her knees to stay wide open to his view. He shed his boots fast and then his jeans, all the time watching the rise and fall of her breasts, pleased with the marks covering her, showing she belonged to him, especially pleased with the need spilling out between her legs, calling to him. Her scent enveloped him and he knew the same biochemical was there, wafting up to him, driving him insane with hunger, with lust.
His mouth watered. His cock jerked, just as hard and edgy as before, the need edging on brutal. She was flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In need. Just as hungry and inflamed as he was. Waiting for him. Desperate for him. He wanted her that way. She was the thing of fantasies. She could control men easily through sex but she would never be satisfied. He knew if he was going to keep her, she couldn’t be in control of him. He needed to show her he could satisfy her always.
He could take away the desperate hunger that built and built in her until she thought she’d lose her mind. Only him. He could match her passion for passion. Fire for fire. He could tie her to him this way and she’d never escape. She’d been so afraid of tying him to her through sex, that she had never stopped to consider it might go the other way. He’d been careful to keep that information to himself.
He was a fucking genius, and she should have known he’d approach his claiming of her with advanced knowledge, already certain of every move. He’d studied her over the last few days, watched her, had been inside her mind. He knew exactly what to do to get her – to keep her. They could teach her every trick there was when it came to sex. They had found a woman with exceptional beauty, someone naturally sensual and appealing to men. Still, there had to be something else they’d done to her, something to make her need sex, and appeal to every man. The only real answer had to be biochemical.
He had watched to see the cycle, knowing there had to be one. He could match the sex she needed with her cycle to leech the biochemical from her body, to maximize the output so she would have more control. He wasn’t ever going to be stupid enough to tell her – or anyone else – he’d found the secret. For the first time he was grateful for the cat DNA slipped into him. His cat was fierce, feral and dominating. He could match her passion for passion.
Without a word, he dropped to the floor, yanking her knees farther apart. She let out a gasping cry. He stared into her wide, shocked eyes, his hand cupping her sex, feeling the scorching heat. “Mine,” he claimed, making it another demand. “You are mine. This is mine and I don’ share well with others.” He wanted to make that point over and over so if she ever went into heat without him close she would know better than to act on it.
She swallowed hard. That wasn’t enough for him. Not nearly enough. He dragged her body to his, using her legs, keeping her wide open.
“I want the words. When I tell you somethin’, you answer me.”
“I didn’t realize it was a question, Wyatt,” she soothed, evidently realizing he was bordering on violence. “I want to be yours. Only yours.”
“No one else ever puts their hands, their mouth or their fuckin’ cock here, you got that? There’s only me for you. My hands, my mouth, my cock, you got that?” He snarled it at her, allowing his feral side to slip further out. Just the thought of her with another man made him dangerous. She needed to see that and to see that he would never, under any circumstances, allow her to manipulate him using sex.
He had hoped the wildness he’d been born and bred with combined with the enhancement of big predatory cat would make him the perfect partner for the biochemical rushing through her body. He’d been right. He could match her passion, take her all the way, drain her of the biochemical and leave her sated, even if for a small amount of time. For a woman who couldn’t be sated, who always was in need, it would be everything.