“Dammit, Kane.” She drew herself up straight from the boxes she had been going through. “I have work to do here. I don’t have time for this.”
He strode closer, keeping his steps slow, non-threatening for now.
“Snapping and hissing as always,” he said mockingly, allowing his lips to tilt into the sarcastic grin he knew she hated. “I prefer that sweet little purr you make when I touch you.”
He needed her off balance. He had to shake that control she tried to keep between them.
“I do not purr.” She looked horrified by the thought.
“Oh, yes you do.” He watched her instinctive need to retreat, hiding his smile as she halted it, fighting to stand up to him, to best him. “You have the sweetest little purr when I touch you, Sherra. I remember it. Low and soft, resonating with pleasure.”
His c**k tightened, fully erect, harder than he could ever remember it being as he got close enough to smell the woman scent of her, to see the arousal she tried to bank glittering in her green eyes.
“You’re insane,” she snorted, turning, her hands shaking as she bent to the box, sorting through the straw as she pulled another new, gleaming automatic rifle from the depths and laid it with the others on the cart beside her.
“Am I?” He pulled her around to face him, feeling the feverish heat of her skin as she tried to jerk away from him.
“I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t let go of me.” She was panting. Kane could see the fine film of perspiration gathering on her brow, the flush beneath her cheeks, the hunger raging in her gaze.
“You couldn’t kick my ass if you wanted to right now,” he retorted tightly. “Look at you, Sherra. You’re weak, exhausted from fighting the heat, and nearly shaking with lust. How long can you fight it?”
“I’ve fought it before.” She struggled as he pushed her against the low metal shelf behind her, holding her there with his body, his own carnal hunger beating at his brain with a strength he was beginning to fear.
“Not like this you haven’t,” he growled, gripping her h*ps as her hands braced against his chest. Her fingers flexed, nails rasping over the cotton of his shirt, caressing the mark on his chest with devastating pleasure. “Do you think you’re alone, Sherra? Do you think for one damned minute that you’re suffering without me?”
He jerked his shirt open, buttons scattering as she pulled her hands back.
“Look, damn you.” One hand tangled in her hair as he forced her gaze to the mark a bare inch from his flat, hard male nipple. “Look what you left on me, Sherra. How well you marked me. Do you think for
one f**king minute that damned hormone can make this harder on me?”
His voice was rough, enraged. He didn’t know if he could hold back, if he could f**k her now without hurting them both.
He heard the small, keening sound of agony dragged from the depths of her throat as her eyes widened in pain and horror. Her face paled, her fingers reaching out to touch the reddened mark again. Kane grimaced as pleasure, hot and destructive, raced straight to his cock. It swelled, pulsed, as he felt his pre-come seeping from the small, slitted eye in the center of the bulging head. Drawing in a hard breath, he trapped her fingers against his chest, stilling them.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, a whimper of need and denial that broke his heart.
“Sorry?” he asked her softly. “Oh no, baby. I don’t want to hear sorry. I want to hear you purring while my tongue f**ks so deep and hard up your tight little pu**y that you scream with it. After I’ve eaten my fill of you, then I want to feel those sharp little nails scratching down my back as I fill you with every hard, aching inch of my cock. That’s what I want to hear, Sherra.”
Her eyes widened further, shock glittering brightly in her gaze as her head raised, her tongue flickering over her lips.
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, applying a bit of pressure to hers as he pressed her to his chest. “Don’t lick those pretty lips, baby. Lick that mark you left me. Taste me, Sherra, before I do something we’ll both regret.”
His control was at its weakest point. His body was in full, overwhelming riot. His c**k ached like an open wound and the mark on his chest was burning like a flame.
“Kane.” She rested her forehead against him, her breath whispering over the sensitive brand. Her hands clenched at his waist, holding tightly to him as she struggled for breath. Her small body trembled, nearly shaking as she fought both of them and the hunger raging between them. Kane tightened his grip on the silken strands of hair at the back of her head before he flattened his palm, pressing again.
“Now,” he groaned. “You know what I f**king need, Sherra. Give it to me before I take something you’re not ready to give me.”
The thin, desperate moan that echoed from her chest had him tightening, waiting. It wasn’t a sound of protest or of fear, but of hunger. A second later his harder, male groan echoed around them when her tongue peeked over, swiping against the mark slowly, the slightly rough rasp tearing through his nerve endings and drawing every muscle to a breaking point as his head fell back, grimacing in an agony of sensation.
As delicately as a kitten, she tested the taste of his flesh, tempted the control he was exerting over the ravenous need rising inside him. She licked the hot little mark with a sensuality that destroyed him as she tasted his skin, each small caress making her move against him with more demand, the heat between them rising.
His jeans were a restriction he could no longer bear. With one hand at her head, the other moved between their bodies, his fingers struggling desperately with his belt as he fought to release his agonized flesh.
“Oh God! Kane, please…” Her hands were tight on his waist, her voice thin with denial and protest despite the hungry licks against his flesh.
“Sherra, baby.” He jerked his shirt from his pants before returning to his fight with the belt. “God, touch me. I’m burning alive.”