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“I need you,” Lawe whispered, his lips trailing up her neck to her ear where he worried the lobe, first with the flick of his tongue, then with his teeth. “Let me have you, love.”
He didn’t have to ask. Surely he knew she couldn’t tell him no. Even if she wanted to. But even without the heat, Diane knew she couldn’t have denied him.
The very things that made her insane where he was concerned were the things that drew her to him. The strength and arrogance, the dominance and protectiveness, the honor that was so much a part of him.
He was so much more than just a man, and he held so much of her heart and soul that she wasn’t certain how to survive what he made her feel or the sacrifices she knew he wanted from her.
Turning in his arms, Diane waited for Lawe’s kiss. The warmth of his lips covering hers, his tongue flickering against them as the spiced-pear taste tempted her senses. The need for that taste, for the adrenaline-fueled arousal that would pump into her system, had her lips parting, her tongue waiting, flicking against his as her lips closed around it. Tucking beneath his tongue, hers rubbed and caressed, her lips tightened, drawing the hormone rich taste from the swollen glands as she moaned at the strength of the pleasure filling her.
The contradiction between the man himself and the taste of the mating hormone never failed to amaze her. He was one of the darkest, one of the strongest, Breeds she knew. Yet the taste of his mating kiss was sweet with a hint of spice. A taste of summer pears but with a hint of that vast well of sensuality he possessed that he kept hidden from the world.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers spearing into his hair to hold him to her as she arched closer, Diane allowed the emotions she kept such a tight rein on to rush through her senses.
There was no need to fight it now. There was no need to hide from him, no need to worry that vulnerability inherent in those emotions could be used against her. Because Lawe was right there with her. Lost to the hunger that flared through them, lost to the emotions that mating heat wouldn’t allow him to fight.
The feel of his erection beneath his pants, pressing into her lower stomach was a heated reminder of the pleasure to come. His hands, drawing her shirt upward, pulling it from her as he broke the kiss only long enough to dispose of it, was a sensual enticement.
Lowering her hands to push aside the light black jacket he wore, Diane tugged at the sleeveless black shirt, dragging it up his chest and pushing it higher as she tore her lips from his.
“Take it off,” she commanded, panting for breath as the need for him tearing through her, racing like a blaze billowing out of control, left her helpless against him. “Now. Get it off now, Lawe.”
He tore it off.
The broad, golden bronze expanse of his flesh drew her fingers, her flesh aching to touch him, to feel the sensation of the invisible, silken hairs that covered it, caressing her palms with a lush, erotic sensation.
“Get those fucking boots off,” Lawe growled as he pulled her back, then lowered himself to the wide, comfortable chair to the side to pull at his own.
She had hers off first. Then her jeans. Pushing them over her hips and thighs and kicking them to the side before he surged to his feet, his pants just clearing the heavy erection they had covered.
As he pushed them down she was there but not to help him undress. Her fingers curled around the thick stalk of flesh, stroking to the base. Lawe suddenly stilled, his body tightening as he gave a harsh growl.
Diane stared up at him. His expression was tight, his blue eyes like a living flame in his bronze face as he stared down at her, his jaw flexing, tight with the obvious effort to restrain the need to assert his control of the sensual battle.
Holding his cock with the fingers of one hand, the other lifted, the tips of her fingers trailing down his chest, the darkened flesh rippling as the muscles beneath tensed. The hard flesh pulsed in her grip. With each hard throb of blood through the heavy shaft it seemed to widen further as her mouth watered to taste the primal strength she held.
A growl, harsh and grating, escaped his throat as Diane bent, her head lowering, her lips parting to allow her tongue to swipe over the engorged crest, to taste the damp flesh, the salty male taste of his pre-cum before sucking it slowly into her mouth.
With her fingers stroking the thick shaft, Diane tightened her mouth around the head of his cock and sucked at it with slow relish.
Heavy veins throbbed beneath her fingers as he finally managed to shed his pants from his legs. His fingers buried in her hair, clenching in the strands and sending pinpricks of pleasure racing across her scalp as he tugged at her strands. His pleasure in her touch was obvious. Every muscle in his body was strung tight as those in his muscular thighs flexed powerfully, his hips jerking and burying the engorged flesh deeper between her lips.
“You make me weak.” He groaned. “Diane, sweetheart . . .”
He growled again as she tucked her tongue beneath the head and rubbed at the smooth flesh there, feeling the pulse and throb of excitement beneath it.
Sucking at it again, her head back, lowering over it, taking him as he moved in shallow thrusts against her lips, fucking her with a slow, heated rhythm that had the breath tightening in her chest.
She wanted him. Wanted to feel him covering her as he had before, taking her, his teeth at the back of her neck as he held her in place. She wanted to feel him losing himself with her, inside her, pumping inside her, that wicked, pulsating barb sending flares of sensation to erupt through her clit, her pussy, reducing her to a mass of pure pleasure.
She’d never imagined she could gain such pleasure from the act. That without the stimulation of having him touch her body that she could be burning so intensely for him.
She wasn’t blaming it all on mating heat, though she knew it played a part. She blamed it on the man.
It was all Lawe’s fault that the tug of his hands in her hair sent a pulse of sensation to tighten around her clit each time he tightened his fingers. That the rasp of his nails against her scalp had her womb clenching with a surge of pleasure.
She wanted him. With a power she hadn’t known a woman could feel, she wanted him like she had never wanted anything in her life. Like she had never known she could want a man. Or a Breed.
She tried to suck him deeper, take as much of him as she could. To give him as much pleasure as possible before they both lost control.
