He wasn’t just claiming her, though. It was far more than claiming. He was dominating her in a way that only a being as intensely protective, as fully primal as a male Breed could be, could claim a woman who had denied the sensual, erotic hungers that plagued her. A woman who had fought far too long for herself and wanted nothing more than to be taken, to submit, for once in her life, to simply exist for the man controlling her senses.
“This won’t work,” she panted, fighting for breath, fighting to separate his hunger from hers, his needs from hers. To find a line, a boundary that would divide the link he was establishing within her soul.
“Think it won’t?” A heavy press of his hips and his c**k head breached her vagina further, separating sensitive tissue and clenched muscles as a cry of pure pleasure escaped her lips. “Let’s see if we can’t make it work, mate.”
His hands smoothed along her flanks before the caress was gone. Moving over her, he pressed deeper inside her, the smooth, short strokes of his c**k creating a passage for the heavy width of his flesh as the heated stretch of her tissue sent pleasure-pain striking at a deepening well of hunger.
Hard, muscled, his larger body stretched over hers for an instant as he pushed deeper, deeper, filling her, taking her an inch at a time. One burning, lightning-sharp sensation at a time, until he was buried fully inside her.
Seated to the hilt, the taut sac of his testicles pressing into her clit, Rule gave no concession, took no mercy in the erotic combat playing out between them now. The more she tried to sever that steadily evolving link he’d made with her soul, the more firmly entrenched it became.
“Think of this, Gypsy.” His lips seared the tender flesh at the point between neck and shoulder where he’d marked her the night before. “Remember this. If you ever. Ever attempt to steal from me the mate I’ll kill to protect. The mate I’ll betray all others to protect. Remember what the hell you’re stealing from both of us.”
Straightening behind her, she felt him reach for something, knew what he was doing, knew how he would imprint himself in her soul and still, she couldn’t stop him. His touch returned between the narrow cleft of her rear, his thumb, slick now with lubrication, pressed firmly against the tightly clenched entrance there. Rubbing, pressing, exciting nerve endings she’d never known could be so erotically sensitive, he began preparing her.
Without conscious volition, without any attempt to accept and with every intention of rejecting, still, she felt the tightly puckered entrance ease and allow the broad tip of his thumb to enter her slowly.
Gypsy was helpless against the cries that escaped her throat. Helpless against the smooth, stretching burn that parted the snug opening and began stretching it, caressing inside, fueling a hunger she shouldn’t know, shouldn’t feel.
His hips shifted, the wide head of his c**k shifting and caressing inside her pu**y with such resolute sensual destruction that she nearly orgasmed for him in that second.
That diabolical thumb pressed deeper inside her, pulled back, then slid in again. He took her in a way she couldn’t fight, neither mentally nor emotionally, and that emotional edge was going to destroy her.
Gypsy could feel it rising inside her, a wash of so many emotions—
“No. Please, Rule.” She jerked against him as she felt it coming, felt the breaks in the barriers she’d built over the years as the connection to him began to tighten, to strengthen.
Her head shook as she pressed it into the pillow, her fingers clenching tighter, a band of sensation beginning to tighten in her breast.
“I have you, Gypsy,” he crooned behind her, that wicked, wicked thumb easing back as she felt his c**k stroking her internally in a way that had her breath catching in near ecstasy.
A second later, his fingers returned instead.
Parting her bu**ocks, she felt one ease inside her, stretching her again, filling her as more of the lubrication slicked his way.
He repeated the penetration. Pulling back completely, he returned seconds later, another layer of the slick gel coating her inner, untouched flesh as she panted beneath him. But this time, it wasn’t just one finger, but two. Parting them, stretching the entrance and internal muscles of her anus further, he blazed a path of complete surrender through her senses.
She should tell him no. That was all she had to do.
She could do it, she told herself desperately.
Instead, her hips lifted as his c**k pulled free of her, a cry breaking from her throat that shocked her. A sound of such wild hunger, of such need that she couldn’t make sense of it.
What she could make sense of was the fact that once this was finished, he would own her.
Her breath caught, fear edging at the boundary of pleasure . . .
“Oh God. Rule.” She cried out his name as that wide crest of his c**k pressed against the tender entrance he’d prepared so carefully.
“That’s it, baby, so sweet and hot,” he groaned as virgin flesh began parting, stretching with such incredible heat that Gypsy found herself trembling in anticipation as the snug, tightly stretched entrance rippled at the intensity of sensation. “So f**king mine.” His teeth were at her shoulder, raking the little mark he’d left there, scraping it with his teeth. “Feel me, Gypsy. Feel me, inside all of you.”
He was inside all of her.
A scream tore from her throat.
Sensation rushed through her like a firestorm of rich, thick lava. She flooded with not just her pleasure, but his. Bound by not just the velvet emotion he was wrapping around her, but also the tightly woven threads that led from him to her. From her to him.
“Rule, please . . .” she cried out, her voice hoarse as she shuddered at each sensation. The wide, brutal heat of his c**k sinking in where she’d never imagined she’d allow a man to take her sent her senses spinning.