Lion's Heat (39 page)

She stiffened in his arms, her hands going to his shoulders, her fingers gripping tight as he allowed his teeth to rasp the sensitive peak.

"I want to fuck you just like this," he groaned, the need ripping through his balls as he experienced the peaches-and-cream taste of her through the lace.

"Dressed?" Her nails pricked at his shoulders as her voice roughened, a little moan vibrating in it.

"A little dressed." His hand pushed beneath the skirt, gripped the side of her panties and ripped the fragile lace from her hips.

"Buy me panties," she breathed out roughly as the scent of her juices flooding her pussy wafted through his senses with a hint of peaches and heat. Damn, she made him hungry.

He dropped to her knees, his hands holding her hips, the swollen glands beneath his tongue filled with the mating hormone.

Gripping her hip, he touched her with the fingers of his other hand. He parted the glistening, curl-shrouded folds, parted them that tiny bit to see the little bud of her clitoris gleaming within her pink flesh.

The scent of her was addictive.

Kneeling before her, he watched her softly rounded thighs tremble, watched her juices gather thicker along the tiny curls hiding the entrance of her vagina from him.

He would get there. But first, he wanted a taste of her tender clit.

Leaning forward, he flicked the tip with his tongue, felt Rachel's hands grip his head, her nails pricking at his scalp now. Glancing up, he almost grimaced at the flushed, sensual look on her face, the arousal gleaming in her eyes.

He licked around her clit again, felt the flinch of pleasure that rippled through her body, smelled the sweet flush of moisture and felt a purr rumble in his chest.

Fuck, he couldn't stop the sound. She was too good; pleasing her felt too good. He couldn't hold it back. A moan echoed through his ears and her thighs parted farther at the sound.

He let the purr free, let it vibrate, let the sound wash over his tongue and her clit.

"Jonas." She panted his name as her fingers raked over his scalp.

"Shhh, pretty girl," he whispered against her clit as he pressed a firm, sensual kiss on the tiny bud.

"Jonas," she whispered his name again, her tone rife with sensual hunger. "It's so good."

Her legs parted even farther, her thighs opening as he ran his fingers down the slit, parting it, caressing her inner flesh as his tongue licked, stroked the pearly bud.

It swelled with each caress, throbbing in demand as his fingers found the snug, clenched opening to her pussy.

She was tight, silky. A groan rumbled in his throat as the sleek heat of the tender muscles gripped his fingers and they pressed inside.

He knew the grip of that sweet flesh on his dick. It was fist-tight, rippling, flexing. Each tiny spasm of the sleek flesh sent heat driving straight to his balls.

Each small thrust of his fingers into the gripping muscles sent a wave of pure hunger tearing through his senses.

He had the taste of her on his lips, her clit against his tongue, the incredibly tight heat of her pussy gripping his fingers. Fuck, this was good. So damned good.

He sucked fiercely at the little bud, flicked his tongue over it as he let his fingers fuck her with hard demand.

The more he gave her, the wetter she got, the stronger the grip on his hair became, the more her pussy heated, the sweet moisture washing over his fingers, tempting his tongue.

Releasing the tiny bud he'd been suckling, Jonas found himself moving lower, licking, tasting the soft folds as his tongue unerringly found the clenching entrance to her pussy.

It was like burying his tongue in living sensual abandon. Thrusting it deep inside, Jonas moaned at the incredible pleasure, the sweet-spicy taste of her.

He could take her like this forever. He could fill his senses with her and still not have enough. She was addictive. She was lush and sweet and so fucking hot he was going to come before he ever managed to get his dick inside her.

His cock was thick, hard. Throbbing with vicious hunger, the demand that he take her almost painful now.

"So good," she moaned above him, her legs trembling now as sensual weakness rippled through her. "It's so good, Jonas. Oh God. I love your tongue."

He speared his tongue harder inside her, felt the hormone easing from the glands beneath it as the scent of her arousal became deeper, stronger.

Her nails were biting into his scalp now, tremors washing through her. She was close, so very close. He could feel her orgasm building, smell it rushing through her system.

She was becoming immersed in the pleasure, in his touch. Her hips were twisting, pressing her pussy closer.

He was drunk on her. He was dying for more. He wanted more and more of her.

Jonas caught her as her legs gave out and she began to sink to the floor.

She couldn't hold herself up any longer. It felt as though the high heels were suddenly melting rubber, throwing her off balance and pitching her into Jonas's arms.

He caught her, lowered her to the floor, his lips moving up her stomach, licking, stroking, the rasp of his tongue striking incredible sensations against her bare flesh.

He licked, stroked. The tip of his tongue grazed, his lips kissed, as he lifted himself over her, and pushed between her thighs.

There was no true body hair, only the sparse, silky, almost fur-like hairs that were practically invisible on his body. It stroked against her inner thighs as his hips pressed them apart, sent racing sensations of ticklish pleasure radiating through her.

Her hips arched. Rachel felt a heat stronger than that of the fire burning beside them as his fingers pulled the cups of her bra beneath her breasts, lifted them free, then began to devour them.

His thighs were between hers. The hard length of his cock pressed against her sex, rubbed against the swollen bud of her clit and nearly sent her into orgasm.

Her hands stroked over his shoulders. The feel of his flesh, tougher, harder than hers, was a sensation against her palms that had her moaning in pure bliss. The feel of his tongue stroking over her nipples was ecstasy. Pinpoints of sensation, tiny, striking little shocks of pleasure that raced from her nipples to her clit, to her pussy.

She couldn't believe, each time they were together, how good it felt, how incredible the sensations could get.

"Sweet Rachel." His head lifted from her breasts, his silver eyes glowing with hunger. "I could live on the touch and the taste of you."

Her hips jerked, her fingers flexed against his shoulders as her head twisted against the incredibly soft fur of the rug.

As she lifted against his hips she felt him pushing her skirt from her body. It came free slowly and was then tossed aside as he came back to her.

Heat, incredible, blistering heat seared the tender flesh of her pussy as his cock pressed against it, the heavy shaft rubbing against her clit. The engorged head was a heated brand against her lower stomach as his lips burned hers in a kiss that tasted of pure cinnamon and cloves.

It was incredible. His lips twisted against hers; his tongue twined with hers. His hands coasted over her body, lifted her hips, eased her thigh against his as he shifted again.

Rachel froze. Her eyes flew open as she stared back at him, watching as he raised himself above her. The thick crest parted the dew-laden folds, then pressed against the clenched entrance of her sex.

"I'm going to burn alive," she gasped as she felt the snug entrance part, stretch, for the slow, heavy invasion of his cock.

"I'll burn with you," he groaned. "We'll go into flames together."

Staring up at him as he took her with slow, controlled thrusts, Rachel was caught anew by the savage contours of his face, the glow of his silvery eyes, the bead of sweat that eased down the side of his face.

The vibration of a purr was a steady rhythm that stroked over her senses, amazed her and pushed her arousal impossibly further.

Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his hips, strained upward and fought to take more of him, all of him. The feel of his cock stretching her, stroking her with short, hard inward strokes as he forged steadily deeper, was almost more than she could bear.

She was flying in his arms. Staring in his eyes, she felt the flames enveloping her, washing over her, through her. She was lost in a wonderland of pleasure she didn't want to lose.

"This." He swallowed tightly, grimaced. "It's the most pleasure I've known."

Her legs tightened around his hips as he drove deeper, harder, inside her. Pleasure-pain erupted inside her as he fucked deeper, his cock pressing, stretching the tender recesses of her pussy as she lifted closer, fought to meld into his flesh.

With a final, heavy stroke, he was buried to the hilt inside her, stretching her, burning her, filling her in ways that Rachel knew no other could ever fill her.

Iron hard, iron hot, he stretched the tender tissue, revealing naked nerve endings that flared in response to the stroke and throb of his cock. Pleasure surrounded her as heat filled her. The incredible mix of emotional and physical pleasure wove together, sending her senses spinning into a neverland of absolute bliss.

Her fingers clenched on his shoulders, stroked down his arms. His back was slick beneath her palms as perspiration beaded on his bare skin.

His knees bent, his hands pulled her closer, lifting her hips as he rose to his knees, staring down at her, his expression savage, tight with lust and amazingly . . . love.

Love filled every stroke inside her body. It filled his gaze, his expression. The bogeyman of the Breeds was the lover she had always dreamed he could be.

Wild. He growled. He purred.

His hands clenched on her hips as he fucked her deep and hard, shafting inside her with a desperate pleasure that rocked her soul and filled her with a wild savagery of her own.

Her nails dug into his arms, her hips writhed beneath his, thrusting against him, taking him as deeply as possible. Her legs fell back from his hips, dug into the rug and lifted higher, taking more of him.

Each stroke dug into violently sensitive flesh. It stretched and caressed and filled her with a power, a bliss she couldn't control. She didn't want to control.

She could hear his growls. She heard his purrs. She felt her body tightening, her pussy spasming. She convulsed, rapture exploding through her. She tightened, on him, with him. She felt ecstasy racing through her body, tearing through his as he gave a muted roar.

His cock slammed inside her, buried deep. The feel of his release spurting inside her triggered another orgasm, this one more intense than the last.

When the barb emerged, locked into the most sensitive area of her pussy and stroked with subtle, destructive pleasure, Rachel swore she lost her soul to him.

Her eyes opened, almost unseeing. Her gaze locked with the living silver of his. She felt him, she swore she did, clear to her spirit she felt him locking inside her as surely as he was locked inside her body.

He was a part of her. The other half of her.

"I love you." The words were torn from her, ripped from her heart, locked inside her soul. "Oh God, Jonas, I love you."

She loved him.

Jonas came over her, cradling her in his arms now, his cock still buried deep inside her, throbbing, filling her with his release as he gave every part of himself to his mate.

Hell, he'd already given it to her, he was simply renewing it.

He'd feared mating would weaken him. Instead, it had strengthened him, it had softened him, it had made him see some things clearer, and now he was more determined than ever to secure a measure of peace for the Breeds. Because nothing mattered but the safety of his mate and his child.

Nothing mattered but this.

Holding her.

Loving her.

Being loved.

Jonas Wyatt, the bogeyman of the Breeds, was loved.

CHAPTER 22

The next morning Jonas and Rachel walked into the main computer and security control room for the estate house. Set in the far wing with direct access to the labs below, the room was outfitted with monitors, servers and external terminals that housed and stored the guts of Sanctuary's security operations for the house.

All internet, telephone and wireless communications went through the comm center before being routed to the communications bunker outside the house.

Stepping into the small anteroom that held three control computers, Jonas moved past the lioness working them, aware of Rachel following close behind, into the tech room where the technicians took their breaks or the occasional shift nap, then through another door to the heart of the room.

Here, servers maintained the various links to the comm bunker, drove the internet and wireless radios, monitored satellite phones and in-house satellite communications and held a backup security system that notified the comm bunker, the Wolf and Coyote communities of Haven as well as the Vanderale security system in Africa, in case of emergency. It was a self-contained emergency backup system as well as a last-response notification system.

The main house was powered independently from the bunker, but all systems from the house were monitored by the more advanced network set up in the bunker.

Still, this room was indispensable.

Jonas moved to the back of the room where the brains of the operation worked with a frown on her delicate face, her white-blond hair pulled haphazardly to the top of her head, the long strands falling messily around her face and shoulders.

Dressed in black mission pants and a sleeveless cami top, she cursed like a sailor under her breath and glared at the monitor.

"What do we have, Sherra?"

Jonas moved behind her to stand over her shoulder, his gaze narrowed on the results as he picked out the anomalies of the scan she'd described in her report the hour before.

"We have a bug," she murmured as her fingers flew furiously over the keys. "It activated perhaps a week ago, from what I can determine. It's a silent one; none of the scans caught it. If I hadn't begun the practice of running a deep-level scan in conjunction with full diagnostics and system routing to save time, I would have never caught it."