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It tore through her.
It raced across her nerve endings, tightening her clit and her pussy to painful awareness.
She shouldn’t feel like this.
No matter the rumors she’d heard of mating heat. No matter what her own instincts were telling her.
She shouldn’t be feeling this.
This wasn’t just sexual. It wasn’t just pleasure. It wasn’t just a need to be fucked into pure exhaustion, and God knew, that need was uppermost in her mind. It was quickly reaching a critical point and wiping her mind of any other instinct.
It was so much more than an intense need for release.
More than a need to be filled.
It exceeded the need to feel flesh against flesh, his cock buried inside her, or the detonation of an orgasm she knew would leave her flying into pure rapture.
It was more than she had ever imagined she could have because mixed with the extreme sensations and wave upon wave of pleasure was the instinctive knowledge that it was also a need born of emotion.
Burning in the very depths of her soul was the knowledge that the heart she’d managed to keep locked against all pain had been breached.
Stygian had somehow found a way to sneak in and take it over.
He filled it, possessed it. He controlled it effortlessly and she had no idea how he had managed to do it.
Fighting to make sense of it, to pull herself back from the never-ending rush of sensations to repair the breach, she was shocked at the sudden feel and sound of rending cloth.
Her top was torn from her, the light, ultrasoft cotton pulled easily from her body, only to be tossed carelessly aside. The feel of his broad, naked chest and stomach coming over her now bare back dragged a hoarse cry from her throat.
“Please,” she cried out again, shuddering from the sensations spinning out of control inside her.
“Oh, mate, I have every intention of pleasing you,” he rasped, his lips at her ear, caressing the sensitive shell. “Over and over again. Until neither of us can move. Until even the need for air is forgotten.”
The hand wrapped around the curve of her breast slid free. Panting for much-needed air, she was more than aware of him working loose his jeans and pushing at the material as he lifted her just enough to push the denim down his thighs.
It took only seconds—breathless, destructive seconds—to remove the pants he wore.
Still, he didn’t return to her. He didn’t cover her and begin pushing inside her as she needed.
“Why did you do this to me?” She couldn’t hold back the cry any more than she could hold back the rush of emotionally destructive feelings rising inside her.
“What did I do to you, baby?” Naked now, covering her, the engorged crest of his cock barely pressing against the slick folds of her pussy, he whispered the question as his lips stroked over her shoulder.
With his chin, he brushed back her hair as it fell over her shoulder, his lips returning to the overly sensitive flesh as one hand pushed beneath her hips, found the curls at the top of her pussy, then pushed beyond.
Liza jerked, shuddering at the waves of pleasure washing through her as his fingers found the swollen heat of her clit.
“There is nothing I want more than to sink into the snug heat of your pussy,” he groaned as he let his lips find the mark he made at the bend of her shoulder. “To feel that sweet, wet heat snug around my dick. Sucking it with all the pleasure you gave when you took it into your mouth.”
Her hips rolled, grinding against his fingers, fighting to get c
loser to the broad head of his cock as it tucked against the folds of her cunt.
“When you come, triggering my own release, the feel of your pussy clenching on the mating knot would take me to my knees if I did as I’ve fantasized and fucked you against a wall.”
“Please.” The cry was torn from her.
“Ah God, how I fantasize about you,” he whispered, nipping at her shoulder. “I dream of watching you suck my dick, Liza. Watching as it parts your lips, feeling your hot little mouth working over it.”
