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Arousal, that hunger, unsated desire, the desperate longings and pulse-pounding aches. It was the need for touch, the body so hypersensitive, each nerve ending rising in attention as pleasure became the focal point of reality.
It was also the need to touch, though.
Rising to her knees, she flattened her palms against the hard muscles of his abdomen, feeling them flex in response to her touch, heated, alive. At first glance, the hard, bronzed flesh seemed completely free of male hair. But beneath her sensitive hands, she felt the ultrasoft down, almost like a pelt, smooth, warm, invisible to the eye, but detectable to the skin.
Resting on her knees, the object of twelve months’ obsession right before her eyes, completely naked, completely aroused, the hard length of his cock jutting forward, she couldn’t help but compare it to her fantasies.
And the fantasies paled in comparison.
Nothing could have prepared her for the highly conditioned, fully aroused, steel-hard body of a male Breed in his prime.
Her fingers curled against the flexing abs, nails rasping against his flesh as she felt his muscles harden further beneath her touch. The head of his cock was sheened with moisture, engorged and flushed dark with extreme arousal.
Dragging her nails down his abs, she gloried in the hard male groan that met the caress as well as the visible throbbing in the heavy veins of the powerful, thick shaft.
As her hands moved down, caressing, stroking to his thighs, his fingers buried in her hair. Blunt male nails scraped across her scalp, sending trails of exquisite sensation tearing down her spine.
She needed to touch him, to taste him, to experience every sensual pleasure to be had in his arms. Every sensual, erotic touch, taste, and sound.
Her head lowered, her lips moving to his chest, her tongue licking over a hard, flat male nipple as she heard the smothered groan vibrate in his chest.
Part moan, part growl, the sound wrapped around her senses, stoked the sensations rising inside her as her teeth gripped the disk and she allowed her tongue to worry it with sharp little flicks.
The taste of male desire and a hint of cinnamon hit her senses hard and burned through her veins. Between her thighs, her clit throbbed and ached, the need for touch riding her like a fever as her hands moved to his heavy, muscled legs.
She felt as though she were growing drunk, intoxicated on the sheer wicked excitement. Fascination had followed her since the day she had met him, fantasy flowing through her mind as she fought to bring herself to relief when the need for his touch, his kiss, had grown out of control.
And now, he was here. So obviously aroused, his hands in her hair, the pads of his fingers rubbing against her scalp as she began to lick her way down his torso.
She had never touched a man as she was now touching Creed, with such freedom. There had always been hesitation, a sense of something just not quite right. The two men she had been with before had each been a disappointment, making her fear she would never realize the pleasure she sensed could be had in a man’s touch.
In this man’s touch.
In a Breed’s arms.
A moan tore from her throat.
Her Breed. The human species that had been a fascination for her since the day they had revealed themselves, and tonight, she would claim one for her own.
Her lips moved down his abdomen, her tongue licked, stroked, until she came to the brutally hard length of his heavy cock.
One hand curved around the base of it, the feel of the heavy pulse beneath sending the blood crashing through her veins. Pulling her head back, she moved to lick, to taste the engorged head when she suddenly found herself pushed back to the bed, and a second later, rolled to her stomach as Creed came behind her.
“Oh God, Creed,” she cried out, her back arching as his arm curved beneath her hips, jerking them up and back until he pulled her to her knees.
“Stay still.” Hard legs gripped her thighs as she felt him moving behind her, one hand smoothing over the curve of her rear. “Just like that, Kita. So sweet and ready for me. Trusting me. Do you trust me, sweetheart?”
Did she trust him?
Only with her life.
“I trust you,” she cried out as his finger eased between her thighs, pressing against the entrance to her pussy, easing inside as the calloused tip rasped against oversensitive nerve endings.
It was a fury of hunger. A craving. A need she didn’t know how to bear as her hips jerked back, desperate for more.
“I need you,” she demanded, her voice ragged now. “Please, Creed. Please need me.”
She hadn’t meant to sound so needy, so aching. She hadn’t meant to beg, but the yearning inside her refused to remain silent. She had waited too long for this, waited too long for him. God, he had to ache just as deeply for her.
