“Stop.” She shook her head desperately. “Not now. Not yet.”
She couldn’t deal with the overload of emotions while his c**k was straining the walls of her pu**y, the need for orgasm beating at her brain.
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“Now.” He denied her the ability to hide any longer. And hiding, she knew, was exactly what she had been doing. “Here, now, Sherra.”
His h*ps bunched as he began slowly—too damned slowly for the needs rocking through her—pumping inside her just enough to keep the pain from clawing at her womb, but not enough for orgasm.
“Do you like that, baby? Do you like feeling my c**k f**king inside your tight pu**y, making us both crazier by the second?” he asked her softly, an echo of the past. “Tell me what you want, Sherra. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“No.” Her head thrashed against the mattress as she fought the potent, irresistible call of her own soul, and the needs hammering at her brain. “Stop this, Kane. Please. Just let me come.”
“No,” he growled, baring his teeth as his own body shuddered with the need. “Not yet. Feel it, baby. Feel how good it is.”
He drove inside her hard, paused, his c**k throbbing heavily inside the sensitive clasp of her pu**y.
“Kane…” She sobbed his name.
“Now…” He drove inside her again. Paused. His eyes watched her, glittering wildly, hunger and demand tightening every line of his expression. “Now.”
“Oh God.” Her h*ps jerked at the next hard thrust, her head turning, her tongue swiping over the mark on his chest as he suddenly stilled. “Fuck me, Kane. Fuck me hard and hot until nothing matters but us. Nothing but us…” Her mouth covered the spot, her teeth raking over it, then her tongue, a second before she bit him.
A male shout of satisfaction filled the room as he began to move. One hand lowered to her hip as his own began to churn, thrust, driving his c**k deep and hard inside her as she tasted blood. Her tongue, rasping and filled with the unique mating hormone, began to lap at the wound, her mouth sucking at his flesh as the taste of him became the final straw to drive her past reason. Her orgasm erupted, her pu**y tightening on his driving c**k as she tore her mouth from his chest to scream out her completion.
“Fuck yes. Come for me, baby.” His head buried at her neck as he stroked inside her powerfully, lengthening, driving her orgasm higher until reality, past and present, was extinguished. There were only her and Kane. Together, melting, blending, orgasm and bonding clashed and in the fires of their release, satisfaction weaved for the first time in years, two hearts beat, bonded, and eased. For now, there was peace.
* * * * *
Seth Lawrence had seen many things in his life. At thirty-five, he guessed he would have experienced damned near every adventure a man of his temperament could have imagined. He had spoiled himself with the darker edge of life, but nothing had prepared him for Dawn Daniels. He had read her file. Age twenty-seven, Cougar Breed, the horrors recorded from the Lab files didn’t bear thinking of. She had endured a hell no child should have ever lived.
Her golden-brown eyes were haunted with that past, deep, somber pools of suspicion and hunger. Not sexual hunger, but the soul-deep, mind-consuming hunger to live. He bet the sizeable fortune he possessed that Dawn had never known either a lover’s touch or a friend’s gentle embrace without remembering the fear and the nightmares of her past.
Now, she stood within the guesthouse of Sanctuary, watching him with those mysterious pools of emotion, her body stiff, defensive as she answered to his latest demands. He hid his smile, rubbing his finger over his lips as his elbow braced on the padded arm of the couch and his knee bent, his foot resting on the teak coffee table in front of him.
“You’re not in a position to demand anything, Mr. Lawrence,” she reminded him severally, the high cheekbones and kittenish angles of her face revealed by the severity of the French braid which pulled her hair back from her face. Soft, golden-brown strands, not nearly as dark as the color of her eyes, like rich, light caramel. “Sanctuary is not one of your offices,” she continued. “My men are not under your command.”
Her men? His brows snapped into a frown. He didn’t like the way she phrased that. Her guards perhaps?
Yeah, he could handle that phrase.
“Furthermore, may I also remind you that you are here only under objection. If it wasn’t for Cassie, you’d be recuperating in a hospital rather than reclining on that damned couch staring at me as though I were a bug under a microscope.”
His brow lifted. Actually, he was watching her like the tempting little package she was. Her short, compact little body was driving him crazy. Tempting br**sts pressed against the soft cotton of her dull green T-shirt and that gun strapped to her thigh, over the snug mission pants she wore, should not have been sexy. He was more a pervert than he believed, because his c**k was spike-hard as she faced him so defiantly.
“I believe the phrase ‘watching you like a tender morsel of meat’ would be more appropriate.” He held back his smile just as he tried to dim the interest in her response in his gaze. She jerked alert, her jaw tightening, her lightly tanned face paling the barest bit as her gaze darkened. Then she snarled.
His c**k jerked, flexing in a harsh reminder of its aroused state as she flashed those pearly canines.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can play with me, Lawrence,” she growled, but he saw her ni**les harden, caught the quick intake of her breath. “I could tear you apart before you knew what hit you.”
He smiled then. A slow, confident curve of his lips as his gaze went over her once again.
“Play with you?” he murmured softly. “I’d actually be quite serious, darling, never doubt that for a moment.”
Had he had ever wanted a woman as swiftly, as heatedly as he did this one? It wasn’t possible. He would remember a hunger this strong, this consuming. As he continued to watch her, her face flushed, paled, then flushed again. Her breathing became harder, faster. But her hand dropped to her gun, her fingers caressing the handgrip as though seeking reassurance.
“Don’t make that mistake, Lawrence.” Her voice chilled, but catching the undercurrent of pain, of anger, wasn’t hard. “Better men than you have tried. They failed.”
“They weren’t men.” He didn’t move, despite the need to jerk to his feet, to pace in fury, to pull her to him and fill his senses with the taste of her. “Rabid animals, Dawn, don’t count.”