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And he caught her. His hands gripped hers, his gaze caught hers, as his lips held on to her pulsing clit and his tongue wrung every harsh explosion of sensation from her body.
She could hear his growls. She could feel them. She strained into his lips, her head tilting back as the world rushed around her in a dizzying display of color that left her shuddering in the aftermath.
Del-Rey eased her back to the bed, his hands stroking over her waist, her stomach and thighs, easing the violent shudders of her body as he slowly, regretfully released the swollen, throbbing little button of her clit.
He could taste her release on his tongue. Sugar and fire. Earth and air. He licked his lips as he pressed a kiss to her hip, then nipped the sweat-dampened flesh with his teeth.
He couldn’t wait. His head was filled with the taste of her, with the scent of her. It called to him, teased him, tempted him.
Moving over her, he gripped the base of his throbbing cock with one hand. He’d spilled the slick pre-cum to the bed as she exploded beneath him. He was amazed he hadn’t shot every ounce of cum from his body as she screamed his name.
“I’m burning,” she moaned, her head twisting on the sheets as she stared up at him, panting for breath, perspiration dampening her forehead, her hair.
Her eyes were slumberous, brilliant in her flushed face as the mass of red gold curls cascaded around her.
“I’ll ease you,” he promised.
He would ease them both. The hunger was clawing at him now, brilliant red-hot sparks of need exploding up his spine, traveling to his tortured balls as he pressed her legs farther apart and moved to her.
He prayed for control. His erection was thicker than she would have known with a human lover. Coyote and Wolf males were cursed not just with the knot that would lock them inside their mates, but also with a heavier, thicker shaft. As though they wouldn’t frighten their mates enough to begin with.
“Anya. Look at me, baby. Look at me.”
Her eyes opened again, brilliant, dark within her heat-flushed face.
“We’ll go easy, I swear it,” he groaned, allowing the head of his cock to press against the tender opening.
His teeth locked together as the first pulse of heated fluid erupted from the tip. Rich with the mating hormone, it pulsed inside her even as he fought to hold it back.
“Oh God, that feels so good.” She arched closer, pressing him deeper. “Like it’s burning me, easing me, making me crazy for you.” Her gaze sharpened. “I don’t like crazy, Del-Rey. I like control. You know I like control.”
He did. He knew this.
He cupped her cheek with one hand, feeling his chest clench in agony. “I know, little love. You want control.”
There was no control here, for either of them. But he remembered that now. He should have remembered eight months ago. His Anya was always composed. Even with that brilliant red gold hair and the fiery temper that could light her eyes, she had always maintained control. And there was no control amid the mating heat.
Her breath hitched as another pulse of fluid filled her and a sound, nearly a sob, escaped her throat at the feel of it.
She shuddered beneath him as her hands gripped his biceps, her nails digging into his flesh as he eased farther inside her, his teeth gritting at the too tight grip of her silken flesh.
“Oh. Oh, Del-Rey.” She lifted to him, her lashes lowering as he pressed deeper and a growl tore from his throat.
He felt every ripple, every convulsive tightening of her pussy around the crown of his cock. It was like sinking into pure ecstasy the pleasure was so violent.
The pulsing pre-cum came faster now; each spurt was another thread broken on the thin expanse of his control. His patience was wearing; the need to drive into her was eroding his every sense.
“Anya.” He laid his head against her shoulder, continuing to work himself inside her, his teeth clenching into the sheets rather than her tender shoulder as his instincts demanded.
Slow and easy. He repeated the refrain inside his head. Control. Patience. No taking. He couldn’t take this time.
He jerked, his head lifting as a snarl of furious hunger exploded inside him. His hips jerked, driving his cock inside her deeper.
It was rapture. It was incredible. It was pleasure that tortured his dreams and his waking hours with the same driving force. The memory of this. Of Anya, slick and tight, clenched around him like a milking fist.
“Yes. Oh yes.” Her hips jerked to him. “More. More now.”
His head lifted as he fought to breathe, staring into her enraptured expression as her nails bit into his arms. Her neck arched, her hips rolled beneath him, working him in nearly to the base of his cock.
