She was like a sleepy little cat against him. As he stroked her back, he heard that faint little purr again. Just for a second, as though it had slipped past some unconscious barrier.
“I like that,” he whispered drowsily.
“Like what?”
“That little purr.” He rubbed his chin against her hair and placed a kiss at the tip of her ear. “I love the sound of it.”
She was silent, still, for long seconds. “I’ve never done that before,” she whispered, as though the fact she had done it was somehow frightening. “It makes me weird. I’ve never heard of the other female Breeds doing it.”
“Who cares what they do. I love to hear you purr. It sounds sensual and lazy. Satisfied.” And all his. He had her first, and if God was willing, he would provide many, many more purrs in the future. He stroked his hands down her back, rubbed slowly at those pert little ass cheeks and moved her slowly along the length of his still-hard cock.
He could wait for more. He was aroused, thick and hard and buried inside her. But he could wait. Right now, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel her flexing against him, feel the catches in her breath and the little ripples of response each time he moved against her.
“I’m not satisfied.” She stretched slowly, her hips lifting in an undulating little movement before sliding down again, consuming his c**k with a heated, tight grip.
“Not even a little bit?” He smiled as he felt her lips curve as she kissed his shoulder.
“Just a little bit. Just for a few seconds.” She lifted and braced her hands against his chest. “And you’re so very ready, Seth. We could play some more.”
Her eyes gleamed with heat and the lightest sparkle of amusement.
“You want to play, do you?” He skimmed his hands from her hips to the full mounds of her br**sts. Her ni**les were diamond-hard points, her br**sts flushed and lifting and lowering heavily as her breathing began to grow deeper.
Lower, where her body cradled his, deep inside the snug depths of her pu**y, he could feel her response gathering again. The heated flesh was gripping him more tightly, becoming slicker, if possible, and tempting him to madness.
“Come here,” he whispered. “Kiss me, Dawn. Deep and sweet, like only you can.”
He watched the joy that suffused her gaze, even as pleasure washed through her body. He drew her down for the kiss, feeling her sink onto him, around him, inside him. Sweet heaven, how would he ever survive without this again? How could he ever live without knowing her kiss, her touch?
He watched as she lifted above him long moments later, her eyes slitted, heat burning in the rich, golden brown depths. She was the most sensual, erotic sight he had ever seen in his life. Nothing had ever prepared him for the beauty moving above him, following his direction as his hands clasped her hips and he taught her how to destroy his senses with a slow downward glide, a shift of her hips, the tightening of her thighs.
She growled as he tilted her back, directed her hands to brace behind her on his thighs and used his thumb with slow, sure movements on the tight, hardened bud of her clitoris.
“Hell, I love it when you growl like that.” He watched his c**k slide inside her, then she lifted, revealing her sweet juices as they clung to his heavy flesh.
“I don’t growl,” she panted, then she made the sound again. Soft, a rumble that was more than a purr. A sound of complete pleasure.
She tossed her head, the silken strands of her golden hair feathering around her face and neck as her back arched and he felt her tightening on him.
Seth increased the movements of his hips, plunging into her, his own breathing rasping from his lungs then. He pulled her forward, took her lips in a kiss and felt her melt around him. She was crying out against his lips, calling his name, and the sound sent him exploding into his own release. Hard, forceful spurts of se**n blasted from his cock, filling her. The pleasure tore through his body, burned up his spine and left him fighting to breathe long, long moments later. Seth knew he should get up. He should lift her from him, clean them both and tuck her in against him, but he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to move her. He wanted to hold her, just like this, where he was a part of her. Where he was connected to her in a way that filled his soul. Ten years he had fought the mating heat. Ten years and he had given up on Dawn ever coming to him. Now she was here, and he swore, no matter what it took, he would hold her here.
Dawn slept. She slept harder than she could remember sleeping in her entire life. Sheltered in Seth’s strong arms, tucked close against his chest, she felt safe. Secure. She could sleep now, knowing he would hold back the night. And she slept deeper. So deep that the protective layers she had built in her mind to hold the past at bay weakened. Relaxed.
Suddenly, she wasn’t in Seth’s arms any longer, but standing amid the glare of bright lights and a cold that chilled her to her bones.
I’m frightened.
She turned and stared at the child that uttered the words. She was almost insubstantial. Almost a ghost. She was huddled in the corner of the cage, naked, her long hair covering most of her body, her brown eyes stark and blind with pain.
It wasn’t just a child. Dawn knew who it was. It was her. The child she had forced herself to forget, forced herself to bury as deeply as possible.
As she stared at her, she felt betrayed. A betrayal that cut deeper than Callan showing Seth those images. It cut deeper than any betrayal she could remember, and she couldn’t place its source. Refused to search for the source of that pain.
She shook her head. She wasn’t here. It was just a dream. That was all. She was with Seth. He was holding her. Even as the nightmare images coalesced, she could feel his arms around her, the warmth of them, the safety, even though she could no longer see him.
Dawn looked around and felt terror chill her soul again. She was no longer someplace safe. She was no longer seeing shadows or darkened shapes. She didn’t sense an enclosure, she felt it. She saw it. The underground labs of the New Mexico facility that Callan had rescued them from. But this wasn’t the rubble left after the escape and the explosions. This was the lab, fully functional, the monitors beeping, the computer screens showing the cages and cells. And the cages. The cages that held the children when they were unruly or when they were insane from the pain of the experiments conducted on their young bodies.
“I don’t want to be here,” she whispered, feeling the words lock in her throat.