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Her legs wrapped around his back; the liquid heat of her sex wrapped around him like a slick, tight fist and had him clenching his teeth. Had him aching for that tight fullness he’d heard filled the tongue when mating heat was devouring a Breed.
He wanted that with her. Wanted it with her until he swore he could feel his tongue itching and a wild subtle taste teasing at his mouth.
His lips took hers, his tongue spearing into her mouth as his thighs bunched and he began moving. His cock ached, throbbed to the point of madness as he tried to fuck her hard enough, deep enough to ease the agonizing pleasure filling him.
Her sheath gripped him, milked him. Her hips writhed against his, her lips moved beneath his, suckling at his tongue, moaning as though the taste of him was as much pleasure as the penetration of her body by his.
“I can’t get enough.” He tore his lips from hers, his head tilting back on his shoulders as he slammed his hips against her.
His hands clenched on her ass, and the needs assailing him were richer, deeper than any he had known before. He wanted to bend her over, take her as he knew she had never been taken. Put his mark on her as irrevocably as possible. Until she knew, beneath her skin, clear to her soul, who she belonged to.
Who belonged to her.
“Harder.” Her hands clawed at his shoulders, her lips were on his neck, her teeth scraping. Biting.
“Ah hell. Fuck yes, Ria. Bite me, baby. Bite me hard.”
But she already was. Her teeth were locked in the tough flesh at the base of the side of his neck, sending fire and ecstatic pleasure racing through him.
His head lowered, his teeth seeking her shoulder. He growled. He snarled. He bit her as he felt her erupting, exploding around him, the tight grip of her vagina increasing, milking his release from him until the snarls coming from his lips were nearly enraged and the ache of the furious blasts of semen jetting from him had him wanting, needing, to roar.
It was exquisite. The agony and the pleasure of filling her, and the rage. Because there was no mating. And yet Mercury knew in his soul she was his mate. This woman. She held on to him, her tears dampening his neck, his knowledge that she felt that missing part of him eating inside him.
As the tremors of release eased and he could think, could find balance again, he held her to him, placed his own back to the wall and slid to the floor.
There, he held her against him, his head still buried against her neck, his eyes closed.
“You’re my mate,” he whispered against her neck, against the mark he hadn’t allowed to heal. Because he kept biting it, kept wounding her in ways that went far beyond those tiny marks at her shoulder.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, Mercury.” She lifted her head and stared back at him, causing his heart to tear in half.
There was no recrimination there. Her eyes were damp, but languorous pleasure filled them, and emotion. She was open to him now. He could smell the sweet scent of desire that could renew with his lightest touch, and emotions he hadn’t smelled in so many years. He could sense them now, swirling through him, digging into his soul.
“I love you anyway.” She touched his jaw, smoothed her hand down his neck. “Just as you are, just as we are now. I love you.”
“I love you,” he repeated, the words comfortable, easy on his lips. She wasn’t just his mate, no matter the lack of mating heat. She was his heart.
She laid her head against his shoulder and breathed out with a little sigh of completion, and of weariness.
“We could hibernate tonight,” she finally suggested with a grin he felt against his neck. “Just hide.”
And he chuckled. Despite the pain, the betrayal he felt, by his own genetics and the body that refused to produce the mating heat, he had to laugh at the amusement in her voice.
“You call Dane and I’ll call Callan,” he told her, and he meant it. If she didn’t want to go, they wouldn’t go. It was that simple.
But she sighed. “Dane would pout. He’s not nice when he pouts.”
“Callan doesn’t pout,” Mercury laughed. “Games aren’t his style. He would understand.” He touched her hair, smoothed his hands down it. “But I’d probably lose vacation time. That fun in the sun you were talking about.”
“Hell. Figures. Dane just gets stingy with the bribes. He doesn’t bother revoking my vacation time.”
“Do you ever take vacation time? Somehow I doubt you do.” He helped her to her feet before dragging himself from the floor.
He looked at her then—her messed hair, torn clothes—and couldn’t believe the hunger that had swept through him as they entered the cabin.
She wrinkled her nose mockingly. “Know-it-all.”
He stared back at her, knowing he was totally besotted with her. “You will be now. I promise you, Ria. You’re going to be begging for vacation time now.”
