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He was aroused.
The bronze length of his cock speared out from his body, thick and throbbing, the mushroomed crest gleaming damply with pre-cum as his balls lifted tight to the base of the shaft.
“Pretty sure,” she murmured as she tore the loose shirt over her head and quickly shed the yoga pants she had donned.
She was ready for him.
Diane could feel her juices gathering on the lips of her pussy as the inner muscles pulsed and flexed with the need for attention.
Wrapping his fingers around the heavy column, he stroked it lazily as he stared down at her, his gaze becoming intent and brooding.
“Punishment time,” he murmured.
Her brow lifted, her gaze flicking t
o his fingers as they stroked his powerful erection.
“Really?” she murmured.
“Really.” Stepping to her, his head lowered, his lips catching hers in a kiss that seemed to sink inside her soul.
The taste of the mating hormone was richer, spicier. It seemed to go to her head faster, the addictive essence a power punch to her arousal as she moaned at the fiery sensations suddenly racing through her.
He’d just been wounded, a bullet had been dug out of the heavy muscle of his shoulder, staples held the gash in his bicep together but the erection pressing into her belly felt stronger, thicker than ever. His arms as they drew her to him sent a surge of heated security—not protectiveness—racing through her.
She was safe here. Emotionally safe. Her heart would always be cherished by him, her happiness always his priority.
Twining her arms around his neck, her fingers sifting through his hair, Diane caught her breath on a moan as the power of the mating hormone continued to build inside her. To rush through her system, and to set fire to feelings, emotions, needs she had no idea how to decipher.
She pulled at his hair and when he nipped at her lips she could have sworn she nearly reached her orgasm.
Her pussy pulsed, her juices spilling from the clenched opening to saturate the swollen folds beyond. Her nipples ached and throbbed as they brushed against his chest, but when his fingers and thumbs found the tender points and began to massage them with erotic roughness she felt her juices dampen her thighs as well.
Heat raced through her blood veins, tore across her nerve endings and left her shaking as she clenched her thighs together and fought for that pinnacle of pleasure.
“Lawe—” Oh God, she needed him.
His hands slid to her rear, his fingers curving over and clenching the rounded flesh as he lifted her to him.
“Lawe.” What was that sensation?
The prick of pleasure or impending heat as he pulled at the cheeks of her rear, separating them, the motion tugging at the hidden, forbidden entrance within.
It wasn’t the physical sensations that sent that punch of electric flames racing through her womb. It wasn’t the echo of increased arousal spilling her juices from her pussy that had her crying out for him.
It was the emotion. That feeling. It was something she had never felt before suddenly tearing through her, weakening her knees, reminding her she was a woman.
She was weaker—her muscles went lax, trembling as though there were no strength within them.
She was feminine—her pussy was melting, spilling the slick essence of that femininity to her thighs.
She was—“Oh God, Lawe.” She wanted to say “no.” She wanted to deny what she was feeling and yet she was unable to.
When he drew back, turned her and eased her to the bed, her breathing began to accelerate. Her heart raced hard and fast in her chest. Because within seconds he had her on her knees, her shoulders pressed to the bed as his hands ran over the curves of her ass.
“So pretty.” He groaned behind her.
His breath feathered the wet curls that shielded the folds of her sex a second before his tongue swiped through the slick juices. Stiffening it, making a point of the tip, he began to probe her clit from beneath, pressing against the sensitive bud before drawing back and rolling it beneath the hood of the tender flesh.
