A Jaguar's Kiss(35)

Pleasure became a vortex of sensation. She screamed his name as he licked, sucked, tasted, and growled into the wet heat of her sex.

His teeth tugged at the swollen folds, his tongue licked and probed and wrapped around her clit with rasping little caresses that sent her exploding into the night. When he dragged his body over hers, his c**k nudging at the entrance to her vagina, Natalie forced her eyes open, lifted her lashes, and became lost in his gaze.

“I marked you,” he growled roughly. “Mine. Forever.”

“Stole me with a kiss,” she whimpered, arching against him. “Steal some more, Saban.”

With his Jaguar kiss, with the taste of lust and the touch of a conquering warrior, he had stolen her heart and become a part of her soul.

Natalie cried out his name as he took possession of what was his. His erection pressing forward, the silk-over-steel flesh parting delicate tissue, caressing, burning with a pleasure that fired more pleasure and sent her careening into a world where nothing mattered but the pleasure, the touch, the taste of his kiss. Strained cries echoed around her as she felt the blaze of ecstasy, the pounding strength of his c**k shafting inside her forcefully, as sensation became a hunger and hunger became a demand. She writhed beneath him, arching to him, driving him deeper until the force of the need exploded through her, brilliant, lightning hot, and filled with all the love she had kept inside, locked away, frightened of the pain of losing this man. If she lost him, how much of herself would she lose as well?

As she felt his climax tearing through him, felt the barb in all its burning pleasure extend inside her, locking him in place as his se**n spurted hot and fierce into the depths of her pu**y, Natalie knew she would lose all of herself.

“I love you more than life,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she held him to her, her nails pressing into his back, her lips pressed to his shoulder. “Don’t leave me, Saban. Never, never leave me.”

“Even death won’t tear me from you.” His head lifted, his green eyes nearly black with the emotions ripping between them, soul to soul. “Even death, Natalie, could not tear my soul from yours.”

She lifted her hand to his face, let the tears fall, and let him shelter her in the strength of his arms, in an embrace as freeing as it was protective.

It would never be easy, but right here, sheltered by her Jaguar, loved, protected, held, she knew it was definitely worth fighting for.

And together, one heart, one soul, they whispered, “I love you.”