He could detect a lie in her voice, and she had to be careful here.
No Breed males had been training her; instead, the Coyote females Ashley, Emma and Shiloh, and occasionally the Jaguar Breeds Chimera and Shiloh, and several Wolf Breed females. The other training she had was from the men that were part of the team she’d been assigned to with the underground network.
Did the big tough male Breeds think their smaller counterparts didn’t have the ability to train anyone?
“Who has been training you then?” he growled in amusement as she felt his c**k pressing into the vee of her thighs, pushing against the entrance of her sex through their layers of clothes.
She wanted the clothes from between them.
She wanted him.
Wanted him hard and deep and—oh God—taking her with the force and hunger that sent her careening into maddening release.
“Who said anyone was training me?” Closing her eyes, her nails curling into the mat where he held her wrists secure, Liza let the sensations, the excitement and intense sensuality wash over her.
“From now on, you want to learn to fight, you can come to me.” His head lowered, his teeth raking the side of her neck.
“Come to you to learn to fight?” She fought to breathe, to fight back her tears as emotion threatened to flood her senses as well. “Really, Stygian, I’ve seen Breeds with their women. They’re not allowed to fight.” She smiled with a sensual, tempting curve of her lips. “They only get to f**k.”
“Really?” he murmured at her ear, his dick jerking in excitement at the carnality in her voice. “Coyote females fight. Ashley and Emma are two of our best warriors.”
“Breed females,” she argued breathlessly. “Human mates aren’t given the same options.”
“Says who?” His tongue swiped over a particularly nerveridden area where he’d bitten her two nights before.
Pleasure sang through her body with a suddenness that left her gasping and had more of her slickening juices spilling from her pu**y.
“Diane Broen and every argument she and Lawe are rumored to have had.” She was barely whispering as one of his hands pushed beneath her camisole.
“But Lion Breeds are ass**les,” he growled, his voice thick with sexual hunger.
“What?” Liza could barely make out what he was saying as his fingers released the front catch of her bra and cupped the swollen weight of one breast.
“I said, Lion Breeds are ass**les,” he repeated, the dark, lust-sharpened sound of his voice stroking her senses as his thumb stroked over the exquisitely hard peak of her nipple.
“Breeds are ass**les.” Her fingers dug into the mat again as his other hand—fingers long and powerful—began pushing beneath the low-riding band of her cotton pants.
It was all she could do to breathe.
Hell, she didn’t give a damn if she was breathing or not, as long as he kept touching her.
His touch was like living lust. Hot and mesmerizing, it stole reason, leaving her helpless beneath him.
The air around them was thick and heavy with erotic heat.
His hard body above her was such a stimulant, so powerful and aroused she felt lost in the sensation of his weight against her.
“Wolf Breeds aren’t ass**les, though,” he promised as the tips of his fingers brushed against the curls at the top of her pu**y.
Liza felt the involuntary clench of her thighs, her vagina, the lush slide of her juices spilling from her body.
His fingers fluffed the curls that sheltered the top of her mound. Only there had she left that soft covering. Below it, the swollen folds were carefully waxed, overly sensitive, and heated, aching for his touch, for more than the firm pressure of his c**k and their clothing between it and her.
His teeth raked against her neck once again, the pleasure singeing through every cell of her body.
The feel of his incisors rasping over her sent a rush of electrified sensation tearing across her nerve endings, heating her, burning through her mind.
A hard shudder of pleasure raced through her as arousal jumped to a hard, lust-driven punch of hunger to her womb.