"Merinus has a big mouth." He grimaced as she let her nails scratch across his flesh.
"Merinus tells me the truth," she stated as he stared down with those oddly colored eyes.
"No. Merinus lies." He jerked as her nails raked lower, glancing over the tight, hard discs of his male ni**les.
She wondered how long she could play with him? How far could she push him? Would his control actually break? She had never heard of anyone, man or woman, shattering his much-lauded control.
"I think you like lying." Leaning forward, her lips touched his chest, her tongue reaching out to lick over one of the tight, hard male ni**les, tasting it, and then wanting more.
His hand jerked up, tangled in her hair and held her still for long, tense moments before she felt it ease marginally.
"I don't lie," he breathed out, his jaw bunching as she stared up at him before raking across his nipple with her teeth.
"Enough." A groan tore from his lips as his fingers knotted in her hair once again. "Don't tempt me, Rachel. If you think you know fear of the mating heat now, then you will surely understand what true fear of it is if you keep pushing like this."
"Like what?" she breathed out roughly as she kissed the center of his chest. "Like this?" She bit into his flesh, tugged at it, felt his stomach tremble against her own as heat flooded her pu**y.
The need for his touch rushed through her like a firestorm, weakening her knees and pulsing through her womb as her breath caught with the sensation.
That smallest indication of her pleasure was nearly enough to break his control. She felt him tighten, watched as his gaze flared, heated, became molten.
A groan rumbled in his chest as he pulled her head back, his own lowering as though in preparation to kiss her.
A kiss that never came. Instead, his lips pressed to her jaw, a muted groan tearing from his lips as he pushed her robe from her shoulders with his free hand before loosening his fingers from her hair, and with that hand, pulled the slender strap of her gown over her shoulder. It was so sensual, so sexual, Rachel couldn't hold back the whimper that tore from her throat.
The bedroom became heated with hunger. Rachel could feel it in the air, brewing between them as she fought to hold on to the shattered senses.
"The need to touch you makes me insane," he growled as the robe and gown puddled at her feet.
She was naked now. Standing before him, her body laid bare for him to see, to stroke, to possess.
"God, look at you." His gaze dropped to her br**sts, her ni**les tight and hard, so sensitive that the very air moved across them in a stroke of pleasure.
Rachel closed her eyes, lost in the pleasure as his hands cupped her br**sts, stroked them. She could feel the imperative need rising between them now, a sense of primal hunger tearing between then.
Rachel felt tremors of need racing down her spine, flickering through her pu**y, stoking a flame through it that she wondered if there was any way to put out. Could she ever be sated from his touch, or would the hunger only continue to grow?
As he gripped her ni**les between thumb and finger, Rachel promised herself that tonight wasn't just for her. Jonas, she was beginning to realize, would put aside his own wants, his own hungers, for his mate. For her.
Was that fair? So many people took from him; even when he manipulated them into it, still, they took, raged at him for the games he played, the results he achieved, and all he gave of himself. And no one offered of themselves, or of their lives, for Jonas.
And once again, Jonas was willing to give of himself and ask nothing in return.
Was that what she wanted?
Her head tilted back as his lips moved down her neck, rough velvet, stroking pleasure through every nerve ending, yet it wasn't enough.
It was his lips only. No stroke of his tongue, no kiss from his lips. And she wanted it, so desperately.
She was terrified of the mating heat, yet she was just as terrified of never knowing it.
She was terrified, period. Her life was raging out of control in so many ways, and yet in others, it seemed to be exactly where it should be. She was where she should be. Here in Jonas's arms.
And she knew something was missing: his kiss. The feel of his lips moving over hers, his tongue stroking against hers.
His lips were at her br**sts, stroking over the flesh, rubbing against her nipple. She arched closer, trying to push her nipple between his lips. She wanted it there, ached to feel it there.
"Jonas." She whispered his name, knowing he was nowhere close to losing his remarkable control.