Mating Fever (16 page)

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Authors: Celeste Anwar

BOOK: Mating Fever
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Her body wept it’s juices. She felt them
running down her supporting leg, knew she drenched him with her
need. She gripped the cold metal car, arching her back, grinding
against his face involuntarily.

 

Gabriel couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t
taste enough. She was so sweet, so delicious. Desire fogged his
brain, taking control. The scent of her beast coated her skin,
driving him insane with lust. He drove his tongue into her core
again, moving one hand around to skate his thumb against her clit.
He rubbed it roughly

 

Her muscles clenched tightly around his
driving tongue. Her pussy trembled with the force of her climax.
Her juices increased, gushing on his tongue. She cried out, bucking
against him as he rubbed her clit harder and lapped her
ravenously.

 

He was too far gone to be gentle. Need drove
him now--the need to mate with his woman--blinding him to
everything else. He dropped her leg and freed his unbearably hard
cock in one smooth move, pushing her legs up.

 

She wrapped her arms around him, digging her
nails into his shoulders. She pressed her slick heat against him,
driving him out of his mind. He groaned, buried his face against
her neck as he pressed his cockhead to her tight hole.

 

She cried as he drove inside her. His cock
jerked, throbbing with hard, violent spasms, threatening to explode
from the excruciating grip of her channel. He stopped, trying to
reign himself in, wanting it to be gentle this time. His heart
pounded from the effort. His groin burned, muscles taut.

 

She squirmed against him, tightening her
thighs at his hips. “Oh god, Gabriel, don’t stop now,” she
whispered fiercely, heaving for breath, tossing her head in agony
and ecstasy. She begged him with her hands, the arching of her
body, the clench and release of her inner muscles. She chanted his
name, pleading, driving him over the edge.

 

He lost it. All control, all restraint. There
was nothing left but the pure animal need now, to mark and claim
... to conquer. He released a savage groan and scored her neck,
sucking her flesh, giving in to the violent, feral needs that
claimed him. He pulled out and forcefully drove into her. She
screamed, clinging to him. He couldn’t know whether it was pleasure
or pain, or both. His cock burned from her tightness, gripping him
like a fist. He set a rapid, driving pace that had his nostrils
flaring. He sucked her neck, pounding his hips against hers.

 

Her cries echoed around him, quickening the
pound of his heart, the fire in his groin. She raked her nails down
his back, her body trembling as a climax seized her. Her kegels bit
into him with crushing strength, pulling the orgasm from his body.
He broke away from her neck, his own guttural cries mingling with
hers.

 

His cock jerked and spewed his hot cum into
her.

 

Her feet dropped to the ground as he leaned
weakly against her. He nuzzled her neck, stirred to see his mark on
her flesh and smell his scent on her skin. They belonged to each
other now, always.

 

“Je t’aime
,” he
murmured against her ear, nibbling her lobe.

 

“Do you mean it,” she said breathlessly,
tightening her arms around him. “Or is it because you’re still
inside me?”

 

He lifted his head, caught her smile and
grinned at her. “Maybe.”

 

She swatted his shoulder and laughed. “That’s
not an answer.”

 

“I think maybe you shouldn’t move so much,
cause maybe I’m ready to love you more.” His cock was already
growing hard again, responding to her heat.

 

“I think maybe we should wait for a bed,” she
said tartly. “It’s just a miracle no one came along.”

 

“I think you’d like that too
much,
ma diable
.”

 

“I am not a devil!”

 

He grinned, nipping her lips. “You are when
you squirm dose delicious hips.”

 

She lowered her lashes with a sultry smile
and squirmed against him.

 

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You’ll be
tha death of me,
chere
. I don’
know how I could love you so much.”

 

“Because I love you,” she whispered, brushing
her lips softly against his. “And if you don’t get me to a bed
right now, I’ll show you just how much of a devil I can be.”

 

His eyes flashed with heat. “I’m not so sure
that’s the right incentive to get me ta move the way you want.” He
ground his hips against hers with emphasis.

 

Jessica bit her lip, stifling a moan. “Oh ...
uh ... I think I just changed my mind.”

 

The End

 

 

Coming Soon: Project Nemesis 3: Primal Hunger
by Celeste Anwar. Read an unedited excerpt below.

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Surveying the dense jungle below through his
night-vision glasses, Zach searched for any sign they might have
company.

 

His guts told him their mission had been
completed too easily, and after years of experience in the field,
he’d learned to trust his inner instincts.

 

Especially since intel. pointed to a guerilla
camp not far from where the drone had gone down.

 

The damn thing had to have made a racket when
it had plowed through the jungle, but as far as he could see,
everything was still in the dark.

 

He didn’t trust it.

 

Zach signaled the pilot to drop lower for
their jump. The quicker they got down there, the quicker they could
make it to the coast with the brain of the drone before it could be
intercepted and powerful technology compromised.

 

It was time.

 

The stealth chopper lowered over the canopy.
His two best men, Dante Jackson and Lucas Mathews took point and
checked their harnesses then bailed from the chopper, repelling to
the ground.

 

Taking turns as each got halfway down, it
didn’t take long for the three men to reach the ground and the
helicopter pulled back up into the sky.

 

Sergeant Zachary Cooper, Zach to his men,
quickly surveyed the perimeter one more time, noting the other
chopper had dropped its load on the other side of the clearing and
was already flying away as the men fanned out into position and
laying out a grid.

 

Repelling from the copter, a rush of
adrenaline surged through his blood, settling in his stomach as
solid turf left beneath his feet and he caught the air. Dropping
down the line, he hit the ground and detached, watching as the
chopper lifted off and took with them their only quick way out of
here.

 

They’d meet back at base. If they were
successful in their mission.

 

Whistling low, he motioned with his hands and
his men took positions, raising their guns and keeping an eye down
the barrel for attack.

 

They began scouring the broken jungle for
pieces of the downed drone.

 

Most of the aircraft had exploded on impact
with the speed it had been traveling. From the looks of things, it
looked like it’d been shot out of the sky, but he’d not been privy
to that information, and had been assured it had not been seen by
the locals. The men began collecting pieces of scrap, looking for
the brain and engine.

 

Starting on four sides of the grid, marked
quickly with string, they worked their way to the center, picking
up scrap as they went and stuffing it into their half empty
packs.

 

Zach swore under his breath when they reached
the halfway point. It didn’t look like much of the drone was
intact—certainly not enough for an enemy to gain intelligence on.
They’d have to have an elaborate technological system hidden out in
the jungle to make sense of the tiny pieces that remained if they
wanted to reconstruct it. And he didn’t think they had that
capability.

 

Orders were orders, though.

 

Something caught the corner of his eye from
the forest. Whipping his head in that direction, Zach snatched the
night-vision up and looked.

 

A pack of wolves edged the jungle, watching
them.

 

He hadn’t been aware of wolves in this area.
Big cats, yes. Not wolves, but he wasn’t familiar with the flora
and fauna to know for certain.

 

Still, it struck him as odd that they would
be watching them, especially this intently.

 

Unease slithered through his veins.

 

Zach looked around for more, but there was
only the small pack. When he glanced back, the unease returned full
force to see they’d disappeared into the jungle as silently as they
had appeared.

 

Half an hour passed and the men finished
moving through the grid. He forgot all about the wolves in that
time, and they gathered in a group to show him what they’d
procured.

 

It looked for all intents and purposes, like
scrap metal honed from the garbage.

 

Fuck, he fumed.

 

“There’s blood on some of these pieces. I cut
my fingers getting it up,” Dante said, rubbing his thumb at a
wound.

 

“Don’t be a baby. I think we all got cut
picking it up,” Riker, one of his men, said.

 

“Was there any on there when you started?”
Zach wondered if the material had been tampered with after all,
perhaps by some locals that didn’t know what they were looking at,
or roving animals snuffling around for food.

 

“Maybe. I thought I saw something, but it’s
so fucking dark,” Dante said.

 

“It’s weird,” Lucas said, and others agreed.
Some of them had nicked their fingers in their haste to gather
everything up.

 

If the guerillas encamped ten clicks from
them weren’t completely oblivious from the goings on in their own
jungle, and didn’t have patrols scouring the area—they didn’t have
a lot of time left before they were discovered.

 

“Put your gloves on. God knows we don’t need
open wounds getting infected with a parasite before we can get out
of here. Check the area one more time,” he ordered and watched as
the men obeyed and fanned across the grid in a straight line,
shoulder to shoulder.

 

Watching them move, he whistled low again,
calling them back.

 

The bundles they carried were awkward at
best. At worst, lugging the heavy packs around would put them in
danger if they went under attack. Especially given the trek they
had to complete to get to their heading.

 

“Let’s check this out and dump anything that
isn’t essential,” Zach said. “Dante, Lucas, you check those. Riker,
Williams, and Evans, get moving. We need to make sure all parts of
the motor and brain are accounted for. Everything else is
secondary. Split the parts so everyone is carrying an equal
amount.”

 

Dante and Lucas nodded then moved to complete
his orders.

 

He wasn’t about to risk all their lives for
scrap that was worthless. When they stood there, not doing as he
ordered, he set his pack down and removed excess supplies, then
stuffed engine debris into his pack. Some of the pieces had dried
blood on them, looking oddly black in the night. He sliced open his
thumbpad sticking it inside his knapsack and swore himself a moron.
He’d be lucky to get out of this without picking up an incurable
disease.

 

“Fuck,” he cursed, and wrapped a bandage
around the wound then shoving his hands in gloves to keep the wound
protected. He was as bad as a damn private, not thinking for
himself. He reckoned all of them were sliced up from handling the
razor sharp metal.

 

Getting it packed, he hefted it. The damn
thing was heavy as hell when he got done with it, but he felt his
men would be safer having divided the load amongst them all.

 

Giving the signal to move out, they proceeded
into the jungle.

 

“Ripley, you Sully, and Ames take point. The
rest of us will pull up the rear,” Zach said, falling back to watch
their backs.

 

Lucas and Dante nodded, remaining wary as
they moved in. If they thought the clearing had been dark, the
jungle was worse. He could barely see his hand in front of his face
even with the night-vision turned on.

 

They hadn’t made much headway through the
dense jungle when Zach got some disturbing news from Dante.

 

“Something’s moving in on us, Sarge,” Dante
said, hooking a thumb behind him.

 

“Fucking guerillas. They must’ve found our
trail or the wreckage site,” Zach muttered, scrubbing a hand over
his jaw.

 

“You want me to get a head count?” Lucas
asked.

 

“No. We need to hoof it to our heading and
get back to base camp. We can’t afford to lose any of the drone to
enemies. We stick together, move fast, and don’t shoot unless
they’re on our asses.”

 

Forming a line, they moved through the
jungle, brushing past thick vines and bushes, over fallen logs and
other tough terrain. It seemed hours passed as they carried their
heavy packs. Even with the dark, the humidity was a killer. Sweat
trickled over his brow and down his chest and groin, making his
balls itch and his camo. pants rub his crotch painfully.

 

The cut in his hand burned like fire, making
his entire palm ache and his wrist click like he’d suddenly caught
carpal tunnel. He flexed his fingers.

 

“Fucking humidity,” he grumbled, swiping his
brow and adjusting his groin to alleviate the irritation.

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