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Tightening his grip on her thighs, he sucked her clit deeper into his mouth, harder. His tongue stiffened, flickered harder, faster over the flexing flesh, and within seconds her ecstatic cries were filling his head as she exploded beneath him.
He couldn’t wait. Her orgasm was burning over his tongue when he jerked upright, lifted her legs and pressed the burning crest of his cock into the saturated folds.
They enclosed him. He swore her sweet pussy sucked him in as he worked the thick flesh inside her. Flexing, silken muscles tightened around him, stroking that violently sensitive crown, then the hardened shaft, until he was seated fully inside her, surrounded by fiery heat.
Primal hunger filled him now. There was no stopping. There was no way to halt the inferno overtaking both of them. He could smell it in the air, infused with emotions he couldn’t decipher, and needs as instinctive as nature itself.
Gripping her hips, he pulled back, trying to move slow, fighting to relish every stroke, every caress. Her nails bit into his wrists as she held on to him. Her head was arched back, her hips lifting to him.
Fuck it. God, he couldn’t hold back. He needed too much, needed her too desperately.
Moving over her, his lips took hers as he began to stroke inside her. His hips pumped, churned as he fought to work every inch of the burning shaft inside her with each stroke. She was tight. A heated, snug grip that made him mindless with the need for release.
Holding on was torture. Control was barely a thought, focused solely on holding back his own release for hers. She had to come. He had to feel her orgasm tightening around him, flowing around him. It was imperative. Nothing else mattered.
Her whimpers beneath their kiss assured him it was building again. Each stroke inside her and he swore she was growing tighter, wetter, slicker.
He couldn’t kiss her and breathe. He couldn’t stop kissing her. His tongue pumped inside her mouth as his cock pumped inside her pussy, until he couldn’t bear much more. He couldn’t hold back. He was losing control, losing thought and his sanity inside her.
Jerking his lips back from hers, he buried his head at her shoulder, his teeth clamped on the mating mark, and then he felt it. She tightened, drew taut in his hold, as a shattered cry fell from her lips and her orgasm exploded through her.
Cabal couldn’t hold back the growling snarl that tore from his chest. He plunged inside her again, again. Felt her orgasm rushing around him and lost himself to his own.
The barb beneath the head of his cock pressed out, became erect, violently hard and locked him inside her at the moment of his release. With each spurt of semen he felt the shudders of furious pleasure tearing through, ripping through his soul, opening it for her.
He held her close, one hand buried in her hair, to hold her to his heart, as he fought to breathe through the ecstasy.
She was his. His woman. His mate. His life.
Nothing in this world would ever matter as much as Cassa.
Not his life or others. He would die without her. And by God, he would have no compunction in killing to protect her.
She was more than just his heart. Cassa was his soul.
? CHAPTER 23 ?
“I’m not going to sit here in this room and wait on someone who’s not coming.”
Cassa made her announcement the moment she stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed. She wasn’t a patient person when it came to pacing the floors. She would just as soon be pacing the sidewalk adding to her story or hunting down sources.
Hunting down sources was her primary concern today. She had several in mind, for information she needed. Chief among the questions she had was in regards to any surviving members of the Feline pride that had been massacred on Valentine’s night twenty-two years ago. Who was left? Who would be taking vengeance now?
She knew Walt Jameson had information, and there were the two Breeds that had been in the café the morning she had met Myron there. On closer thought, those Breeds had been a little too curious. They were watching her that day, listening to her conversation. Which meant they were most likely involved.
She was going to find them and simply have a nice little conversation with them. Maybe mention Valentine’s Day. Maybe mention Douglas.
She felt armed for battle. Dressed in jeans, her favorite dark gray long-sleeved T-shirt and boots. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a light dusting of makeup had been applied where she felt it was needed.
Last night had held too many revelations, and too many surprises. She wasn’t a sitting duck for anyone, especially Douglas Watts. She had put that behind her the day she thought Douglas had died, and she wasn’t returning to it.
She watched Cabal as he turned from the window to stare back at her. She took in the hard expression, but paid attention to the glitter of amber in his forest green eyes.
Those eyes almost had the power to mesmerize her. She could stare into them for hours, lose place and time and never regret a moment of it. If she let herself.
“What do you think you can do before Watts arrives?” He crossed his arms over the dark gray cotton shirt he wore, as his gaze flickered over her.
“There’s any number of things I can do.” She shrugged. “High on the list is finding Walt Jameson. I’d like to talk to him a bit more.”
