“Damn. Nothing,” he panted. “God, you’re so hot and ready for me. No one has ever wanted me like you do, Elizabeth. Always so sweet and hot and slick.”
He spurted inside her. She loved it when he did that.
“Your fault.” She could barely talk now.
Elizabeth began easing down on the hard shaft, working it into the snug depths of her swollen pu**y, relishing the painful pleasure that streaked into her womb. A part of her realized there might be something just slightly depraved about her. She loved that flare of pain as he entered her, or when he locked inside her. The burning blend of agonizing pleasure that sent her rocketing to orgasm.
“Easy, baby.” His hands gripped her h*ps as she lowered her head to his shoulder. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“So hurt me,” she groaned roughly as she raked her fingers over his shoulder, remembering how good it felt when he did that to her. “Take me, Dash, like you need to. Now. Don’t hold back for me.”
His muttered oath was thick with need. “I’ll hurt you, baby.”
“I’ll love it.” She was breathing roughly.
But still he hesitated. He worked inside her slow and easy instead, his body tight and corded with the need to hold back. She didn’t need him to hold back. She let her teeth grip the flesh of his shoulder lightly, then gathered herself, forcing the muscles of her pu**y to relax a second before she impaled herself hard and fast on his shaft.
She bit him. God, she knew why he did that now. It was agonizing. Savage. He howled beneath her, a primal sound of such pleasure that her body shuddered with it as her pu**y convulsed in spasmodic ripples of sensation. Her orgasm was instantaneous. Too much sensation. Too much fiery pleasure inside the swollen depths of her already sensitized pu**y.
His c**k was spurting hard inside her now, as though the ultra-tight grip had signaled something inside that hard muscle that regulated the flow of the pre-come. He was moaning hard beneath her, his hands gripping her thighs, his h*ps bucking against her, stroking through the violence of her orgasm and building another as they cried out at the intensity of feeling.
She was biting him hard. She knew she was and couldn’t help it. Her h*ps writhed, twisting against the hard throb of his c**k lodged inside her as his thighs bunched and he began to thrust in and out in powerful lunges as he lubricated her further, intensified sensation and threw her headlong into her next release.
Dash was only seconds behind her. She felt him swell, lock inside her, then spill his se**n deep inside her body.
“Lizbeth.” Minutes, hours later he shifted beneath her as his c**k began to slowly lose its desperate swelling inside her. “Honey, let go of my shoulder.”
His voice was thick, replete, but edged with amusement.
Elizabeth tasted blood. Gasping, she drew back, her gaze flying to his in horror.
“Shh.” He laid his fingers against her lips as regret began to spill from her. “I loved it, baby. Bloodthirsty little thing.” He lifted her from him then, groaning as his c**k slid free of her, her pu**y kissing it loudly as it exited. “Sleep, woman. You’re killing me.”
“I love you, Dash.” She snuggled against his chest as he turned to her, his body sheltering her.
“I love you, Elizabeth.” He sighed roughly. “More than I’ve loved anything in my life.”
But the fear was back. She could hear it in his voice, feel it in the tenseness of his body. They would go after Grange soon, and she knew that it would be not only her greatest test, but Dash’s as well.
Chapter Thirty
There was indeed a small army. The next morning, before the sun had risen over the cabin, Simon was back with his Ladies. Before breakfast was ready, several Feline Breeds arrived, three men claiming to be Callan Lyons’ brothers-in-law, four of Mike Toler’s men and a handful of soldiers packing their duffle bags fresh off a plane from the Middle East. There were over two-dozen men in all and Simon’s six lusty Ladies. Dash was furious.
“Get your asses right back on that plane,” he was yelling at the dozen soldiers watching him dispassionately. “I didn’t ask you to come out here and I’ll be damned if you’ll risk your asses like this.”
“Sorry, Major. It’s not happening.” The unofficial leader of the unit shook his head. “Took us weeks to arrange leave without giving a proper reason. We’re not going back.”
Dash was cursing. Elizabeth watched from the doorway of the cabin as he raged. She hadn’t seen Dash so worked up over anything. He was usually calm, holding his control tightly in check. It was more than obvious he was ready to lose it, if he hadn’t already. Some of the words spilling from his lips she hadn’t even imagined existed.
“Jonsey, are you that eager to make that new wife of yours a widow?” he yelled heatedly at one of the younger men. “Son of a bitch, I thought you loved that girl.”
Jonsey was a tall, lanky young man. Maybe twenty-five, with wide hazel eyes and thick red hair.
“I do love her, Dash.” Jonsey nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a year with her. A year I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t pulled her out of that hospital they bombed. Cindy agrees with me being here. I’m not going back.”
Elizabeth could hear Dash growling in irritation.
He turned to the man beside Jonsey. He was nearly as tall as Dash, with short, spiked brown hair and deep brown eyes. His face was lined with exhaustion and he had obviously had enough of Dash’s temper.