“Your body does,” he said with such confidence that she was grinding her teeth together in fury. “But, I don’t believe Wolfe has the right to order you to my bed. I want you there because you cannot deny me, not because you are ordered.”
Her eyes widened.
“You think I cannot deny you?” She bit out, so furious, so enraged with his patient amusement with her that it was all she could do not to attack him. “You think f**king me is a done deal?”
He chuckled. Bastard. He was laughing at her. “My dearest mate, I have no doubt it is. But it always has been. You’re a big girl now, I think you can take me.”
Shocked fury filled her system. He stood so tall, so confident before her. As though he knew the ways of all things, supreme in his own knowledge. She wished she could refute his claim, but knew she would choke on such a lie.
“As I remember it, I had no problem taking you before,” she reminded him, feeling the need for violence rising strong and steady inside her. “I think your done deal is more like an itch that needs scratched in your case,” she sneered. “What, miss out on your weekly piece last night?”
His eyes narrowed on her. The amusement in his expression dropping by several degrees.
“You’ve developed a smart mouth, Faith, it could get you into trouble,” he warned her, his voice low, irritated.
“And you’ve developed a domineering attitude that could land you on your ass,” Faith assured him furiously. “Stay out of my business, Jacob.”
Enough of this! Hard-headed damned man, there would be no way to make him see sense, to make him understand that she didn’t need him to pave her way with Wolfe. And she didn’t need Wolfe ordering her to f**k her mate. Damn him. Damn Jacob. What gave either of them the right to suddenly decide they knew better than her, after six years?
“You are my business,” he growled, his voice rife with irritation as he faced her, his own anger growing.
“Am I?” she demanded. “Then why did he order me to f**k you, instead of the other way around? You are the one who left. Remember?”
His face flushed and for a second, just for a second, his gaze flickered. Faith narrowed her eyes, her chest blooming with pain.
“Don’t worry, Jacob. You’re off the hook. You and Wolfe both can go to hell.” She moved to rush from the room to get away from him, and the unbearable pain suddenly radiating inside her.
Jacob stopped her as she went to pass him. He pulled her to him, his hands sliding down her arms in a slow caress. His hands touched her. Faith drew in a hard, shuddering breath as his fingers moved further, dropping to cup her hips, pulling her into his thighs until the hard length of his erection was pressing against her lower back. Heat seared her body, burst through her veins like an explosion of wildfire. She gasped, flinching as her womb contracted hungrily and her clitoris began to throb in need. Dear God, only a touch and she was ready for him to mount her.
She could barely breathe for the physical demands of her body. Could barely stand the agony of suspense, the overriding needs, both emotionally and physically, that ripped through her.
“You feel it,” he growled, his hands tightening on her hips. “It can only be denied for so long, Faith. I know. I have fought to run from it for six years; awaiting Wolfe’s call, praying daily that you would reach the maturity of your body, and be ready for me. Do you think this was easy for me? Do you think my lusts have not nearly destroyed me?”
“You were with others,” she cried out, her hands going to his where they rested on her hips, even as her head fell back on his chest.
His breath was doing wicked things against her neck, sending shivers of pleasure coursing over her body. It was heated, whispering over the mark he had left on her while still a captive within the cursed Labs. She burned in response. So long, she had dreamed of his touch, so long.
“I could not come to you before,” he whispered as his lips stroked over the small mark. “I could not trust myself, Faith. I remembered too well the taste of your honey flowing into my mouth as I shoved my tongue inside your tight channel, sucked at your cl*t and heard your screams of cl**ax, your pleas for more. You were so young. Not ready for the mating our natures demand. Too young to know the violence of my passion. I had to leave, or I would have taken you and harmed you far more than I already had.”
Where had he got the idea he had hurt her? She wanted to protest his feelings, but she couldn’t for the pleasure suddenly washing over her.
“No.” She didn’t know if she was protesting that decision, or the hand slipping slowly inside the waistband of her pants as the other eased beneath the loose folds of her shirt.
“Yes.” His teeth raked her neck. “I would not have been able to wait. I would not have been able to allow you the time of growing, of learning that you needed. Do you know, do you have any idea the hell I endured trying to stay away, to wait until you were ready for me?”
His voice was strained, ferocious in its hunger. As he spoke, one hand cupped her swollen breast, though the other paused at her lower stomach rather than traveling further to her throbbing cunt. She was on fire. She needed his hand to touch her, stroke her. The lightning arcs of tortured arousal were not unlike the drugs she had been injected with so long ago.
“I didn’t ask you to restrain yourself.” Her eyes closed as she moaned with her need. She had forgotten how strong the needs could be, how they attacked, stroked and flamed through her system with just the threat of Jacob’s touch.
“I would have hurt you, Faith. I had no other choice but to leave.” His tongue stroked over the mark.
Faith cried out, her neck bending further to grant him greater access as the hand holding his wrist applied pressure, trying to push it from her abdomen to between her thighs.
“You did have a choice,” she whispered, she could barely speak. She was breathing hard, heavy, her body was flaming, sensitized and aching almost painfully.
The anger and fury was dissolving beneath the onslaught of a fury of lust. She was shaking, needing so desperately she didn’t know if she would survive the ache.
“God, Faith, you feel so good. You taste so good,” he whispered, his own breathing rough, heavy. His chest rose and fell hard beneath her head, his tongue stroking over the small, sensitive scar he had left below her neck. “I want to mark you again. I need to, Faith.”