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Stygian jumped back from the jab to his face but not before it connected.
His lip was split, the reddened hint of blood marring the perfect male curve.
Ah hell, Flint had split Stygian’s lip?
Wouldn’t that make kissing her later painful?
She could kiss the little boo-boo.
Licking her lips at the thought, her breasts swelled further at the surge of hunger racing through her body while her clit pulsed in renewed need.
Renewed? No, not renewed, it hadn’t stopped pulsing since she’d first watched them sparring.
She wanted to spar with him. She wanted to have him take her down, strip her pants from her body, lift her to her knees and fuck her into a screaming orgasm.
Was that seriously too much to ask?
It wasn’t like she wouldn’t be willing to give as well.
Her tongue ran over her lips again, almost involuntarily this time. She could remember the taste of him, the strength and power of the broad head of his shaft.
So broad.
She’d heard Wolf and Coyote Breeds were thicker than normal, their cocks broad enough to stretch a woman until she was certain it was impossible to take him.
Their experience, she had heard, ensured their lovers took them, perhaps not with ease, but definitely with pleasure.
Exquisite, heated, torturous pleasure.
Moisture rushed from her vagina, slickening, preparing—
Clenching her thighs, she forced back a moan and fought to return her attention to the file she was working on. And the occasional flicker of the screen that was mor
e irritating than an actual problem.
Or, it would have been if her mind was actually on the file she was supposed to be working on.
Returning her gaze to the gym and the combatants still going at one another, the urge to be on the mat with her mate was only growing stronger.
She wanted to be the one sparring with him.
She was his mate for a reason.
She wasn’t the hothouse flower he so obviously believed she was.
This hothouse flower was one week from final testing before her induction into one of the most professional, most secretive rescue forces in the world.
She could spar with him.
She highly doubted she could take him, but she knew he would take her.
Sensually.
Erotically.
Creaming her panties was an understatement for the slick moisture now gathered on her pussy.
Hunger didn’t come close to describing the need rushing through her body.
