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Tugging at his shirt, she fought to touch skin, to stroke his body as his lips came over hers again, his hard body pressing her closer to the wall at her back.
Her breath hitched as his hands clenched on her ass, lifted her and jerked her closer. Her thighs parted over his. His cock, covered by a layer of denim, was still hard and hungry as it pressed into the cradle of her thighs and stroked over her clit.
Cassa wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as her hips moved of their own accord against him. Thrusting, stroking against the rigid mound pressing against her, she drove herself mad with the arousal burning through her now.
Her fingers threaded through the silken strands of his hair, the caress of it against her fingertips, erotic, sensual. Everything about Cabal was too erotic, too sensual. She had been losing this battle for months, and she had known it.
“No. Please.” She gasped out the plea as he jerked her head back, one hand gripping her hair to hold her in place as he glared down at her.
“You know what you’re doing,” he stated, his voice like a caress of a hot summer night. “Tell me, Cassa. You know what you’re doing.”
“I know what I’m doing.” Her fingers clenched in his hair to drag his head back. “You’re damned right I know what I’m doing.”
He was hers. A part of her refused to accept anything less than the fact that he did belong to her. She would pay for it later. She might well die for it later. But for now, he would belong to her. Hers to hold. She had never had anyone, or anything, belong solely to her, until Cabal. And she had never belonged, not really, not where it mattered.
“It doesn’t change anything.” He lifted her closer against his body and began to move through the cabin to the stairs that led to the loft bedroom. “Nothing, Cassa. This story is still off limits to you.”
That was what he thought. Let him think it. Let him believe whatever he had to believe for now; she’d show him different later. She wouldn’t be dictated to in this mating any more than she had been dictated to before it.
Her lips parted, and she allowed her teeth to nip at the line of his lower lip as he moved slowly up the stairs. Her tongue licked over the little wound and she wished she knew how to purr, because she would have purred with the pleasure coursing through her now.
“Stop ordering me around,” she panted as his hands clenched on her ass. “Kiss me again, Cabal. Just kiss me.”
His lips covered hers again as a soundless cry vibrated in her throat. It was a kiss made of gossamer desire and fiery need. It stroked over her senses as his tongue stroked over her lips, then her own tongue. The spill of the hormone spread through her, slowly at first, heating nerve endings, throwing her body into chaos as she felt herself being lowered to a bed.
Cabal’s bed.
Her arms lifted as he caught the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it slowly from her body.
The chill of the room washed over her lace-covered breasts for only a second. Only as long as it took for him to toss the shirt away, and for his palms to cover the heavy, swollen mounds.
“So pretty,” he sighed, his voice thick and husky. “I dreamed of caressing your breasts, Cassa. Of holding them in my hands and seeing that pretty flush on them.”
She looked down. Sure enough, her breasts were as flushed as the rest of her body felt. Her nipples pressed hard and de mandingly into his palms, and she knew they’d look ripe, cherry red with the need for his touch, his kiss.
She was almost panting as his hands moved, his fingers flipped over the closure of her bra and peeled the fabric away while she fought to hold back a cry of complete surrender.
It was a cry that fell from her lips anyway, as his head bent and one of the hard, tight peaks disappeared into the heated depths of his mouth. His lips closed over her, his cheeks drew on the sensitive point and sent shards of pleasure racing to the throbbing knot of nerves in her clit.
The feel of her juices flowing between her thighs had her hips flexing, arching against him. She wanted him naked, she wanted to be naked with him. She wanted to feel every inch of him caressing her, touching her.
When his head drew back, his lips releasing her damp nipple, she nearly orgasmed from the sight of it. The look of building lust on his face, the hunger that suffused it.
Reaching down, he gripped the hem of his T-shirt and jerked it off, displaying the impressive muscles of his chest and abs. The tattoo of a blood-dipped fang lay against his shoulder. The opposite bicep held what was becoming known as a Breed tribal tattoo: barbwire, canines and daggers in a circle around his muscle. It was impressive, sexy as hell, and looked as dangerous as she knew the Breeds could be. Funny that until now, she hadn’t paid as much attention to the tattoo. She’d seen it, known it for what it was, but it had been on the periphery of her attention before.
Her hands moved, her fingers gripping the hem of his jeans as she pulled and popped the first metal button free. The head of his cock peaked above the opening now. Wide, flushed, throbbing for attention.
“Not yet.” He pushed her hands back to the bed. “Later.”
“Like hell later.” She panted, fighting to get her fingers back in place to touch him. “I didn’t say you get to make the rules here, Cabal.”
He chose that moment to release her jeans and jerk the tab of the zipper down. The low-rise jeans parted, revealing the flesh of her lower abdomen as she froze beneath the hunger in his look.
She couldn’t move beneath his gaze. His expression was absorbed as he moved lower, pulled her boots and socks from her feet, then gripped the bottom of her jeans and shifted them down along her legs.
Cassa was mesmerized by his eyes, by his expression. The glitter of gold in a field of vibrant dark green as he revealed her.
Silken panties came down with the jeans, removed with a long, slow caress of his calloused hands and dropped to the side of the bed along with the denim.
