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It was so good. Oh God, nothing had ever been as good as this. So hot. So much pleasure.
She was screaming out his name, trying to scream, the word was shattered, throttled as she fought to breathe, to accept the heavy, stiff flesh he was penetrating her with.
Writhing beneath him, she cried out, clenched her thighs on his hips and then threw her head back with a hard, silent cry as he finally thrust fully inside her.
“Sweet Jess.” His groan was a harsh growl. “My sweet Jess. My mate.”
He was moving then. Hard, heavy thrusts tunneled inside her, parting her, stretching her until she burned, ached and yet begged for more. Nothing seemed enough. She wanted him harder, faster. She wanted his teeth raking her neck more, she wanted air to breathe and she wanted to die in his arms, just like this, immersed forever in pleasure.
The deep, driving strokes were making her insane. Her orgasm was so close she could feel it, ached to dive into it. Her legs tightened around his thrusting hips as he fucked inside her with heavy shafting strokes.
Each desperate thrust pushed her higher, pushed her harder, until Jess swore she met the sun. She exploded with such an intensity of ecstasy that when his teeth pierced her shoulder and she felt him thrust inside her with one last hard, deep stroke, she screamed.
When she felt her pussy stretching more, felt the explosion of his semen inside her and the thick, hard swelling in the middle of his cock, she forgot the meaning of rapture. She didn’t just orgasm; she became pleasure.
The rush of sensations that tore through her nerve endings was pure ecstasy. They were white hot, electrical, charged with such feeling, so much pleasure, that Jess felt as though she were flying beyond herself, sinking into an ocean of sensation that had no beginning and no end.
She knew what it was. The swelling in the middle of his cock, locking him inside her, positioning the head of his erection flush against her womb, ensuring the maximum chance of his seed spilling to fertile ground.
Knowing what it was and experiencing it were two different things. Experiencing it was fear, ecstasy, a rush of rapturous pleasure. A bonding. A melding of emotion, sensation and knowledge.
She belonged to him, just as he was hers. She had known that before. But now . . . Now Jess felt it clear to her soul. And now she knew why Hawke had warned her that there was no going back. It wasn’t just the mating heat. It was this. A pleasure that would become addictive. A need she would never escape. A man she would love until her dying breath.
EIGHT
Hours and one hormone capsule later, Jessica took a deep breath before smoothing her hands over her hips, luxuriating in the feel of the lightweight dark blue velvet dress she had chosen for the Christmas Eve party.
The long, fluid lines of the garment flowed to the tips of the matching high heels she wore and the color brought out the blue in her eyes.
She piled her hair on her head, held it in place with clips that glittered with crystal gems and applied a light application of makeup that Hawke had retrieved from the other cabin, along with her clothes.
She hadn’t imagined attending the party, even though she had prepared for it. There was a small bag of gifts that she’d ordered over the Internet and wrapped carefully. On the stove in the kitchen sat the rolls, delicate breads and sweets that Hawke had had flown in earlier.
She felt excited, flushed and filled with anticipation. She had always heard her mother say that Christmas was for kids, and Jessica had wondered as she grew older if that wasn’t the truth.
Until tonight. She no longer wondered. The sense of excitement and anticipation that she could feel emanating from Haven was infectious.
Moving from the bathroom, she walked across the bedroom to the wide windows that looked out over the front lawn and the cabins across the small paved road.
There were two Breed soldiers standing at the side of the road, laughing with two others who had walked out of the cabin directly across from her and Hawke’s.
There weren’t a lot of cabins in Haven’s small community. Perhaps two dozen, some one bedroom, some two. Many of the cabins were inhabited by two or more Breeds though. The pack mentality had survived outside the labs. Males and females often inhabited the same cabin, non-sexually, for the closeness it provided them.
Strength in numbers, Dr. Armani had told her once. The Breeds so believed in strength in numbers that they made certain they were in packs or pairs at all times. Just as they were in the wild.
Touching her hand to the glass, she watched as the soldiers lifted their hands in farewell, each moving away to whatever called them back. Two headed along the street, obviously on patrol, while the other two moved back into the cabin.
Snow was still heaped along the streets, spread out in a pristine cloak around the compound where it seemed the Breeds hesitated to step except where necessary. Yards held no snowmen, the snow was largely untrampled, and she had yet to see a snowball fight. For what it lacked it did nothing to dim a Christmas spirit that Jessica hadn’t expected. She could have sworn she had even heard Christmas carols earlier.
Shaking her head at the thought of some of the stern-faced Breeds singing Christmas carols she collected the small velvet purse from the bed, pulled a tiny five-shot .22 derringer from the duffel bag Hawke had brought from her cabin with the other items, and secured it inside the purse.
The Breeds knew she had the derringer. At least, a few of them did. The tiny gun had been collected along with her other belongings when she was taken into custody.
It was little more than a powerful peashooter, but at close range it could do some serious damage. She wasn’t allowed a regular weapon any longer, or at least, her military issue weapon hadn’t been returned to her, so she assumed, for the moment, it wasn’t allowed.
For the moment. She had all intentions of making certain her weapon was returned, along with her job. Once Dr. Armani was certain there was no chance that the drug she had been given was still in her system, then she would request her post back.
Until then, she had a home to decorate and furnish. Hawke had the basics. A large mattress and box spring, but no true bed. A closet to hang their clothes in, bar stools at the bar. The house was largely empty, and already she was coming up with ideas on how to fill it.
