She needed so much more than he was giving her . . .
His hand moved, too quickly to avoid him. It buried itself in her hair as he pulled her head back. His lips slammed over hers again. His tongue speared past her lips, peppermint and chocolate a taste that teased her senses, becoming more addictive as her tongue licked over his, her lips attempting to catch it, to catch more of the addictive taste.
She was only distantly aware of his hand releasing the band of her jeans. Then the feel of the zipper loosening at the side of her boots. His lips moved to her ear, nipping, taking stinging sips of her lips as he undressed her, controlling her with effortless ease.
“Freaky f**king mating drug,” she moaned as his lips moved to her shoulder while he maneuvered her to drop the bra and remnants of her shirt to the floor.
His teeth raked against her shoulder, sending a rush of fiery sensation shooting through her senses.
The need to feel his teeth there, nipping harder, biting . . .
Whimpering at the pleasure, the needs rushing through her like a conflagration of flames, Gypsy could only follow his direction as he moved her legs, forcing them to the floor as he dragged her jeans over her hips.
As he lowered his head, his lips found the tight point of her nipple again, sucking it in, surrounding it with such heat, such pleasure that she could only cry out and surrender to the hunger building inside her. The pleasure from his hands stroking over her thighs, pushing the material from her until she could kick it from her legs.
She was naked, burning for him.
The stroke of his fingers along her inner thighs had her legs parting for him, her breath stilling in her chest, heart racing.
“Oh God, Rule, please,” she tried to scream, but could only beg.
Parting the swollen folds, his thumb raked her clit as his finger pushed demandingly into the clenched, hungry depths of her pu**y. It rasped over inner flesh so sensitive she felt her legs weaken, knees shaking at the ecstatic rush of sensation raging through her.
Slick, saturated, her juices wept like heated honey along his finger, easing the penetration as the desperate, milking clench of her muscles attempted to hold it inside her.
“Don’t stop.” The demand rose unbidden from her lips as she felt the smooth, slow withdrawal, the caress of his finger inside her, driving her higher. “Don’t stop, Rule.”
“Never again,” he growled, his tone harsher, closer to the animal it was said lived within him. “Never again, Gypsy.”
Before she could do more than cry out, he had her in his arms, lifting her and moving to the next room and the bed awaiting them. Laying her against the comforter, he turned, sat on the bed and hurriedly removed the boots laced on his feet.
Gypsy’s fingers clenched the blanket beneath her, her lashes lifting, staring at the broad expanse of his naked back as he rose again. Turning, staring down at her, holding her gaze, he shed the black mission pants as his gaze seemed to shift, darken, then turn brighter.
What would she do if he jumped from her again? How could she bear the pain? “I won’t let you go. Not this time, Gypsy.” The words were a hard rasp as he came over her, spreading her thighs with his hard, well-muscled legs and bending to her until his lips could touch hers again.
Whatever raged inside him, whatever emotions tore at him, she glimpsed in the fiery blue of his eyes, the hard, intent expression on his face. She wanted explanations. She wanted to know what she had done, why he had pulled from her so quickly before, but the needs tearing at her stilled those questions for now.
Lifting her hands, she slid them up the perspiration-slick planes of his hard abdomen, the broad expanse of his chest until she was curling her fingers over the tight, flexing muscles of his shoulders.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she whispered, more because she was weakening and she could feel it.
Amid the ravaging hunger for this Breed, the addictive need for his kiss and the anger that swirled inside her was something more. Something she didn’t want to look at too closely. Something she couldn’t afford to look at too closely.
“It changes everything,” he assured her.
Before she could find the will to argue, the broad head of his c**k was pushing against the swollen folds of her pu**y, parting them, then stretching the entrance to the clenched, hungry demand inside.
A small cry escaped her again, breathless, yearning as her flesh stretched for him, parting with such painful pleasure that her lashes fluttered closed on a weak catch of her breath.
She couldn’t stand to watch him further, to see that hint of agony on his face, to sense that there was a cost he would pay in taking her.
...
Helplessness had never been a feeling Rule had known since the moment the labs he and Lawe were confined in were destroyed. Escape had been planned for, it had been planned exactingly for years, and even then, he’d never known complete helplessness. He’d refused to feel it.
Now, he was helpless.
The mating hormone pounded through his senses, rushed through his body like a drug that set fire to all his senses. Taking her was imperative. Marking her was a hunger destroying him, because doing so meant marring the perfect, sweet flesh that he loved touching.