Haze of Heat (14 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Dellerman

BOOK: Haze of Heat
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Chapter Fifteen

Roughly four hours later, Porter clambered up the backside of the barn from his second-story porch with the confident strength and grace of his feline half. On the gently sloping roof he stretched out, his gaze aimed at the light in Rachel’s room. With the blinds in the living room drawn against the night, he couldn’t see in, but he could keep a vigil until it was his turn for the evening watch.

With the escalating threat to Rachel’s safety wrought by the flowers, not to mention the odd presence of Trevor Daniels and the upcoming arrival of Rand Hensen, the Felix males were on high alert.

None more so than Porter. While he was thankful for his family’s support, because that’s what pack did for each other, Porter was having a difficult time trusting his mate’s life with anyone other than himself.

Part of it, he knew, was the instability of his emotions. Maybe if he’d claimed Rachel, embedded his mark on her creamy flesh so that she, and everyone who saw her, knew exactly who she belonged to, the violent sexual hunger of the mating heat wouldn’t be playing tug-of-war with his senses.

He felt no guilt at lying to Rachel about the mating heat, because he truly hadn’t. He’d only repeated what she told him to tell her. That wasn’t lying. Besides, she wasn’t ready. Hell, he was barely ready himself, but that didn’t mean he wanted to waste any time. And if either Daniels or Hensen was her asshole stalker, time was running out. Once the threat was over, she’d want to go home. Leave him.

Never!

The jaguar let out a short, caustic roar that no human throat could produce. It didn’t want to be here, high on the top of the barn, alone, staring across a dark expanse to the room where its mate rested. It wanted to be with her, next to her, holding her. Touching her.

Porter’s claws shot out to scrape across the roof, his fangs bursting forth in tormented rage. He could still feel her under him, still taste the wild heat of her mouth, her soft silky skin, the tight, wet clasp of her body.

If she chose to leave, he would simply follow. They belonged together. There was no going back.

Another roar, this one quieter, sullen and cranky as the cat paced, moping at the enforced separation.

“Would you shut it already?” A demand from another alpha shifter that had Porter swinging glowing cat eyes over the roof edge.

“Fuck off,” he said in an almost soundless whisper he knew Santos would hear.

His brother’s lips thinned in irritation. “Obviously I need to put you down again.”

Porter bristled at the insult. “Again? You never did it a first time.”

“Then come on down.” Santos dropped his chin in feral invitation. “And we’ll see who’s right.”

Contemplating the benefit of a fierce fight, Porter tossed it aside immediately. Santos was on first watch, Porter second, followed by Rome and then Andreas. Getting into a bloody battle might take the edge off his visceral need, but it would also remove two powerful shifters from their main directive: to watch and protect. He wouldn’t betray Rachel that way. She was his heart, and if anything happened to her because he allowed his temper to get the best of him, he’d never, ever forgive himself.

It took a few minutes, but Porter finally reeled himself back under control. Opening eyes now nearly identical to those judging him from more than twenty feet below, he shook his head. “Nah. Ria would suck the blood from my body if I put a scratch on you and frankly, she’s more terrifying than you could ever be.”

Santos waited a moment before replying, his sharp gaze not missing a damn thing. “Only when she’s riled.” His head cocked in an angle that was purely feline. “It’s a bitch, the mating heat. It scrambles your brain, turns you into a possessive asshole, makes mincemeat out of your emotions and flips your world upside down. But it’s also the most incredible ride of your life.” Santos pivoted on his heel. “Since you’ve come out early, I’m going to shift, patrol the front for a while.”

Porter watched his brother’s back until he disappeared around the side of the house, mulling over words that described what Porter was feeling to a tee. He was about to roll over onto his back when the light went out in Rachel’s room.

Would she fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow or would she toss and turn, her body aching with a need he longed to fulfill? Was she, even now, touching herself? Trailing her fingers over her breasts, pinching those pink nipples he’d tasted? Grazing over the long, sleek lines of her tummy in a sensual journey to the liquid heat between her thighs?

The tortuous images made his cock go rock-hard, a raspy groan of need that was cut off by a harsh curse. Because the sexy, beautiful, and clearly senseless woman was currently slipping out the back door of the house.

Every muscle strained with tension as he watched her walk to the garden. Her pace was slow, almost carefree, as she stopped to sniff some flowers here, some there. But she didn’t stay. Oh, no. Not his independent and willful mate. She left the path and started across the lawn.

To him.

He growled low in his throat, supremely pissed she left the protection of the house. But he also watched and waited, because he wanted. Desperately. When she stopped and lifted her face to the stars, the ache seeped into his very bones. She was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her and not touch her. Not be right by her side.

Preternaturally still, he didn’t even breathe when she paused once again just outside the gate of the corral. Then she looked up, her eyes finding him without hesitation. “Permission to come inside?”

Despite the wanting, he was infuriated at her casual disregard of her own safety. He jerked his head in agreement, silently watching as she passed through the gate and sauntered to the back of the barn, her hips swaying in the pale green skirt that reached to her knees. Quickly rising to his haunches, he was across and leaping from the roof to land on the ground two stories below just as she turned the corner.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Fear, anger, and lust sharpened his tone into a blade.

“I wanted to see you.” Unfazed by the power leaking from his control, her reply was calm, her chin lifted.

He drew in a deep breath, about to snap an imperious retort detailing how stupid she’d been to venture out into the night, alone and defenseless, except the sweet scent of feminine arousal filled his lungs, shredding any argument into so much confetti.

His mate needed him.

Wordless, he pressed her back against the barn, his mouth on hers, nipping her top lip so that she opened in a gasp of surprise, his tongue darting in without apology to taste and take. One hand on the back of her head, his other under her jaw, he delved deep, drowning in her addictive flavor. Mating her tongue with his, she met his passion with her own fiery ardor, in a brazen kiss that held nothing back.

Tumbling headlong, his nerves smoking from the intense heat threatening to burn him alive, he pulled back a fraction to stare down into green eyes dark with the same hunger that inflamed him.

On a groan, he pressed his face into her neck, his tongue a slick glide over her rapidly beating pulse. His gums burned. The instinctive drive to sink his fangs in the sensitive hollow where her shoulder sloped to her neck and mark her, claim her, was a vicious battle to overcome.

Because she wasn’t ready.

The reminder stung. But for right now, they had this.

Ducking his hands under her shirt, he cradled her breasts. Her nipples were already pebbled beneath his caressing thumbs. The hitch in her breath, smothered against his lips, caused his cock to strain even harder against the front of his jeans, where a pair of smaller hands trembled, tugging at the button fly as if impatient to hold him. Then he was springing free, only to be imprisoned by her silken fingers, squeezing gently as she stroked the rigid length of his arousal. Sensual strokes that had his body tensing, the lust building stronger and hotter.

“Impatient much?” He tried to joke, but his throat was too thick with blinding want.

“I need you.” Her blunt honesty was surely going to be the death of him.

Pushed to the edge, he shoved a hand in her hair and pulled her head back to take her mouth in a possessive brand, his tongue stabbing deep. With the other, he shoved her skirt high, tucked the hem into the waistband, and arrowed past the top of her panties to cup silken flesh in a boldness that stripped any pretense of finesse to shreds.

“So wet.” His body shuddered as the intoxicating musk of feminine arousal grew stronger, lusher. A single finger outlined the delicate seam of her sex before he parted her soaking folds, rimming the swollen entrance to her body. “So beautifully ready.”

She shifted, widening her stance, her hips undulating under his teasing touch. The hands on his cock become more urgent. “What are you waiting for?”

What was he waiting for? Rachel was ready and willing and he was about to explode. But he wanted her as wild and crazed as he was. Grasping her wrists, he tugged them from his shaft and pressed them over her head, against the barn wall. “Leave them.”

Her chest heaving, Rachel crossed her arms, but otherwise kept them where he placed them. “What are you going to do?”

The wisp of uncertainty made him kiss her again, a succulent kiss, his teeth closing over her lower lip in a languid release. The drugging scent of her arousal was too rich, too heady to pass up. “Just a quick taste.”

A harsh sound. “You do that and it’ll all be over.”

He found something to grin about. “You think I can’t make you come twice? Again?” Because she had that morning. And watching her sink into pleasure had been a glorious sight to behold.

“I don’t know if I can handle two more.”

A stroke to his ego. “You can.” He sank to his knees, pushing her legs further apart. Her abdomen quivered where he pressed his lips, slipping lower to the top edge of her panties.

Flicking out a single claw, he carefully cut the sides of the pretty yellow bikini bottoms and tugged them off.

“Porter!”

“Shhh.” He chuckled. “I’ll buy you more.” He parted her juicy folds with his thumbs, impatient for a lick of his favorite dessert.

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay to...oh...”

Her reprimand was lost as he dove in, licking her essence in long, hungry strokes. He slipped his tongue inside, flicking and thrusting against tiny inner muscles that grasped at the slick invasion. “Taste so good,
amada
.
Muy dulce.

Her soft moan drove him wild and his caresses grew more urgent, wanting to pleasure her, treasure her. Wanting everything she had to give, and then more. Peeking up the length of her body, he wrapped his lips around her swollen clit, suckling the sensitive nub, savoring her unguarded cries, the rocking of her hips. Her hands were still held over her head, her eyes closed, back arched in ecstasy, breasts thrust forward.

He loved how she responded to his touch. She was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen in his life. He had to have her.
Now
.

Fumbling in his back pocket, he managed to retrieve and don a condom with hands shaking with need too strong to ignore. His jeans and boxes made it no farther than the tops of his thighs before he was slipping between her legs. Cupping her bottom with both hands, he lifted her effortlessly, aligning them groin to groin. Her legs naturally wound around his waist, her arms, his neck.

“I’ve never had sex outside before.”

“Yeah?” His voice was fractured, thick, and primitive. Control was dwindling fast. “Well, get ready for a wild ride.”

He slipped through silky folds, wetting his length, making them both crazy with the erotic friction. Hot cream bathed his throbbing cock so that when the thick crest slotted at the threshold of her sex, he pushed several inches inside before the slick grip of tender muscles made him pause.

He growled, fighting the violent hunger that demanded he thrust hard and fast. Pulling back, he thrust in again, stretching her, filling her. Flexing back, plunging in. Fire raced through his body, slashing at his balls, and then he was seated hilt deep.

A moment passed and she began to move, lifting herself and driving down with her body. She closed around him, so hot and tight, squeezing his cock, completely obliterating any restraint.

His control snapped like an overly distended rubber band.

More!

He plunged into her, harder, faster. Her breath came in ragged pants, matching his own. He buried his face in her neck, teeth bared in a feral snarl, tasting the salty flesh as he tunneled through the scorching clasp of her sheath.

“Porter.” Her voice was a soft wail. “Please!”

His thighs trembled as he fought back the need to come. He could feel his orgasm rise, spearing up from his balls, ready to consume him in blistering pleasure.

Fuck!

Sweat dripped down his back, plastering his shirt to his body. Hips bucking high, he pounded into her hard and fast, lost to the intensity whipping through him. She tightened around him, making each drive through her slick channel that much more intense.

“So fucking good.” His mouth pressed against her slender neck, then lower. The sweet spot where her shoulder curved into her neck.

His fangs emerged.

Mate! Claim!

There was no stopping this time.

His mouth opened, and he bit.

She froze against him. Then her sex rippled, sending thousands of tiny vibrations around his cock, squeezing him in a pool of silken heat. Her cry of pleasure was muffled against his shoulder, her teeth digging through the material to embed in muscle.

That slight pain, the feel of her coming around him, swept him over. His own orgasm erupted and with a sense of relief, he let the brutal pleasure rip through him, wring him out so he could wallow in unadulterated bliss.

Chest heaving, body still shaking, he lifted his head and stared at the mark he’d put on her flesh. A claiming mark. The way of his kind.

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