Lion's Heat (30 page)

He pulled the shreds of her blouse from her body, tossing them to the floor. The soft skirt came next. The feel of it was exquisite against his palms. The black velvet stroked over his flesh as his claws ripped through it, drawing a gasp from her as she pulled back, fought to free herself from his kiss.

"Rachel." His voice was fractured, more animal than man now, a harsh, primal sound that had him fighting to hold on to the restraint needed to not harm her.

As though the animal part of his genetics was a separate beast inside him, his mind railed at the thought, that even amidst this singular impulse of total sensation, he could never harm her.

"Let me breathe." She was panting for air, her hands gripping his wrists as his fingers fought not to clench at her hips. He could feel the silkiness of her flesh, knew how fragile it would be beneath the razor-sharp points of his claws.

Turning his hand, he stroked the backs of his fingers up her back, down. He needed to touch her, needed to experience the warmth and softness of her flesh without terrifying her.

He gave her a moment. His lips moved along her jaw, his incisors scraped against her flesh as his tongue lapped at her flesh, infusing each touch with the potency of the hormone spilling from the glands now.

He could feel her beginning to heat. Sensed the fires already igniting inside her body as they began to slowly, seductively, burn hotter.

The scent of it, the sweet rush of feminine lust and need, tore through his senses with the power to splinter his senses. He was losing all sense of place and time. Nothing else mattered--just this touch, this woman, nothing else.

His lips covered hers again, his tongue pushing into her mouth once again as he tore at his own clothes, desperate to meet her flesh with his own. He wanted her breasts bare against his chest, her hips silky and sweet sliding against his, her thighs parting, spreading for his.

Pumping his tongue past her lips, he growled again when she tried to pull back. Gripping the hair at the back of her head, Jonas held her still. One more minute. Just another second to relish the sweet, cool relief as the glands beneath his tongue began to ease marginally.

But with that relief came a stronger, more overwhelming urge. The urge to finally, fully, possess her. To mark her. To ensure that she was his mate, that no other could ever have the chance to take what belonged to him.

Pulling back from the kiss, he stared down at her, knowing he should force himself to show some restraint over the animal clawing to take it all at once, rather than relishing the sweet, supple taste of her.

The backs of his fingers traced down her spine, then up again to the middle of her shoulders. Watching her, seeing the heat that burned in her eyes, he let the smooth edge of his claw stroke over the curve of her breast, wondering if she could know, if she would feel the danger inherent in the touch. Claws that could rip, could shred, he swore would do nothing but bring her pleasure.

It was sure as hell bringing him pleasure. Jonas's entire body was blazing with fiery pleasure as he pulled her tighter against him, feeling the smooth, silken flesh of her belly cushion the hard length of his cock.

Warm, soft flesh.

He wanted to groan, but he growled into their kiss instead. His hands, both turned, the blunted side of the claws raking over the sides over her plump breasts as he felt her whimper, and her body weakening in need.

Pulling back, Jonas felt his own breath shorten as he stared down at the ripe mounds, tight, hard cherry nipples topping the firm flesh.

God, he couldn't resist.

Grimacing at the hunger inside him, he lifted his hand until he could touch the hardened tip with the back of a claw. Stroked it, fed the need ripping through his balls as he slowly began to realize that like the man, the animal overpowering him had no other thought but to protect the mate he had waited so long for as well.

Staring at the pale rise of her breast, his fingers stroking over it, shadowed by firelight, the image was a fantasy. It couldn't be real. Nothing in his life had ever looked so beautiful. Even freedom hadn't been as imperative to his life as this woman was.

"Jonas." Her gaze lifted, an edge of shock shadowing her darkened green eyes as she glanced back down at the claw that continually stroked against the tender, vulnerable flesh.

The slight curl at the tip of the claw eased over her nipple as she trembled before him. Jonas could feel the warmth of it brushing against the tip of his finger, the silken feel of it softer than anything he had ever known in his life.

Lifting his eyes, he gazed into her vulnerable green eyes, and knew he would give his life if he could ensure no more than her pleasure. She was worth more to him than his life, his freedom. And more surprising, she was worth more than the lives of those he had fought for all his life.

She was his world.

"I won't hurt you." He wanted to still the agonized sound of hunger in his voice, but found it impossible to do so.

She shook her head as a slow tremor raced through her body and the smell of her heat rushed through his senses like wildfire.

She wanted him. The silky heat of her juices was spilling between her thighs, preparing her for him.

He felt his nostrils flare. His body tightened further. His cock jerked, throbbed, and he hungered for more than just the scent of her. Sweet Lord, he hungered for the taste of her.

He wanted, and he didn't dare lay her across the bed. He didn't dare tempt himself so far, so soon.

He had to close his eyes as he lowered his head once more, his lips stroking down her neck, moving to the plump, ripe fruit of her nipple.

It beckoned. It tempted.

He stroked his tongue over one and had to fight to hold back because it tasted as sweet, as perfect as it looked. Curling his tongue over it, man and beast merged, melded, and as a single entity strove to pleasure the only mate he would ever know.

Rachel shuddered in Jonas's arms, the feel of his tongue, roughened just enough to rasp, to further heat the tight sensitivity of her nipple, was enough to send her head spinning.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders as her head fell back, her knees weakening. She wasn't going to be able to stand much longer. She couldn't bear pleasure like this. She didn't have the strength . . .

Her knees weakened further, causing her to stumble as his teeth raked against her nipple and caused a cry of incredible pleasure to tear from her lips.

"Jonas." A strangled cry tore from her lips as she felt herself falling, her legs refusing to hold her weight.

"I have you, baby." And he did. Shifting, moving, his lips still at her breasts, his tongue stroking from one nipple to the other as she felt herself lowering.

He moved, bent, knelt. Rachel felt the cool wood of the night table beneath the silk of her panties and the bare flesh of her thighs.

The small lamp tumbled to the floor. A harsh, ragged growl filled the fire-lit shadows of the room as her thighs were pushed apart. One foot she quickly placed on the edge of the bed, the other on the cushion of the chair beside the table. She was spread, opened; she was laid out for the hunger that flickered in his eerie, glowing gaze. Need, raging desire, emotions she was afraid to define, and a pleasure he did nothing to hide warred with something akin to fear in his gaze.

Rachel stared down at him, shaking like a leaf. Firelight flickered over him, painting his bronzed features in gold and shadow. Silver eyes glowed in the darkness as his hands lifted to her thighs, his claws raking down them, gently, so gently.

Lightning-fast, prickling sensations raced from that vulnerable area straight to her pussy and struck through it like a sensual blow. Her muscles clenched, desperate to be filled. Her clit throbbed, aching for touch.

"Oh God." Violent sensation tore through her vagina, burned with such amazing ecstasy that she found herself breathless, reaching, longing. The shards of pleasure were so intense, so incredible, she fought to close her thighs, to hold on to it forever.

She got a growl in return, a flash of strong white teeth as he pushed her thighs farther apart. Before she could protest, those claws hooked in the band of her panties and the sound of rending cloth echoed around her.

"Oh my God, Jonas." Her head fell back against the wall as she felt his breath against the heated folds, a whisper, a breeze of sensual, erotic hunger, a second before his tongue swiped through her pussy. Like a loving, luscious stroke of hunger, it delved through the juice-laden slit.

Friction. Just the smallest bite of sandpapery roughness and it nearly sent her over the edge before his head lifted again.

"You taste sweet, so sweet and soft." His voice rasped over her senses.

Lowering his head again, Rachel felt his lips bestow an intimate kiss. He sucked her clit just past his lips, flicked it with his tongue before releasing it. Soft, sucking kisses moved lower. His tongue emerged to tempt and tease, to taste with every little thrust into the folds of saturated flesh.

"I can't stand it," she panted.

She couldn't. Those erotic kisses were making her crazy, making her desperate to feel his cock press inside her.

Sliding his hands up her thighs, he gently parted the folds with claw-tipped fingers. So gently. The pricks of the sharp tips were another pleasure, a slice of exquisite sensation as he opened her farther, and licked.

He licked her like a treat, relishing every taste he found of her and throwing her senses into chaos.

He growled, the sound vibrating over the entrance to her pussy as she fought to memorize each touch.

Licking, stroking, his tongue worked through the curl-shrouded folds with hungry demand. It dipped into the entrance, thrust and flicked along the sensitive walls. It drove her into a maelstrom of fiery pleasure so intense she feared she would drown within it.

Returning to the distended, sensitive bud of her clitoris, his tongue curled around it, drew it between his lips and kissed it with slow, devastating movements of his lips as his tongue laved and stroked.

She couldn't believe the complete abandon in his expression, his pleasure as he ate her with decadent hunger. His claws stroked her thighs, giving a hidden element of danger, a reminder of the creature he was, man and animal, and completely devoted to her pleasure. A pleasure so destructive to her heart, her emotions, that she found herself reaching out to him with everything inside her.

She feared she couldn't survive it. Need was such a driving, deepening hunger that it overrode every thought, every instinct other than the one for his possession.

Looking down between her thighs, she watched as his tongue distended and slid through the glistening flesh. Probing, flicking around her clit, a cry tore from her throat at the sensation. Pleasure raced through her. It tingled up her spine, through her nerve endings, sped through her bloodstream until every cell of her body felt flushed with it.

It was too much. She arched, fighting to get closer, her hands gripping her knees as he pushed her legs farther apart and began to devour her with an intensity that hinted at his own desperation.

She hadn't thought it could get better. It did. His tongue pushed inside her, suddenly fucking her pussy with a demand that kept her poised on the edge of bliss. Each stroke was white-hot; each thrust rasped, tingled, sent a flush of agonizing pleasure tearing through her as it built the ever-increasing fire burning for complete possession.

She needed it all. She needed all of him.

"Jonas, please," she whimpered as she felt his claws stroking up her thighs once again.

Sweat glistened on his brow, his shoulders; a rumbling growl vibrated against her flesh. He drew her clit into his mouth again and began to suckle it. Silver eyes filled with living hunger lifted to hers and threw her over the edge.

It was an edge of complete release. A firestorm swept through her, hurled her through a kaleidoscope of color and had her screaming his name with what little breath she had left.

She was shaking, shuddering, aching, reaching for him. She watched as he rose to his feet, his hands gripping her shoulders to lift her to him.

She wanted more. He'd had his taste of her, devoured her until he destroyed her mind.

It was her turn.

The heavy, thick length of his cock was before her, the flushed crest dark and broad, branded with firelight, tempting her lips.

Drawing closer, she let her tongue swipe over the head as he tried to pull her to her feet.

He seemed to freeze. As though that lightest touch held him suspended, locked him into place.

He tasted wild, like the mountains themselves. Fresh, invigorating. The dampness of pre-come exploded against her tongue, and with that taste of the mountains was a hint of the cinnamon and cloves that filled the taste of his kiss.

It was an intoxicating elixir. It fed the need already burning inside her; like gasoline to flames, it exploded through her senses and sent fiery lashes of exquisite pleasure ripping through her.

It wasn't a gentle thing. The need that arose inside her wasn't tame or calm, it was as wild as the hunger that raged in his eyes, in his expression. As wild as the animal whose genetics he shared.

A moan of pleasure left her throat as her lips parted and she drew the engorged head into her mouth.

What had she unleashed?

Jonas's head fell back as his hands flew to her head, his fingers gripping it, holding her still, everything inside him fighting to pull free of the wicked grip of her lips.

Damn her. He was holding her still to keep her from moving on his cock, but she was still destroying him. She was suckling at the engorged head with greedy flexes of her mouth, licking over the crest of his dick as though he were a favored treat.

He couldn't resist. His hips flexed, shifted. He watched as the flushed, wide crest slid just to her lips, then he pressed inside once again.

Again. He did it again, and again. It was a pleasure so intense, so violent, he swore he felt his knees shaking for a moment before he tightened them. His entire body was taut, tense with lightning-fast, erotic fingers of sensation.