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Why did her body pick this moment, this man, to become sexual? She was twenty-three years old and she’d berated her sexuality as well as her heart for so many years for being unable to react to the opposite sex as other women did.
She had dated. She’d tried to force a need, an arousal for some of the more appealing prospects she’d known as potential lovers, yet she’d never been able to work up enough interest to actually join one in bed. Even Douglas, the fiancé who had informed her that he had no intention of allowing Breed genetics into any children he would eventually bring into the world. And besides, he’d sneered, he’d never been into fucking animals.
He’d slipped the engagement ring off her finger while she was too weak to fight, even had she wanted to, and he had walked away without even saying good-bye. But in his gaze she had glimpsed the pure disgust he’d felt at the thought of her.
Now, in the middle of attempting to escape a situation she didn’t understand, that sexuality had kicked into overdrive with the Breed known for being seen only when someone was such a liability to the Breed community that they were marked for termination.
Termination.
As though she weren’t human—
Oh yeah, she wasn’t human, she thought half hysterically.
She wasn’t human, she wasn’t an animal. She was a Breed.
She was something in-between, and that wasn’t something she had expected.
Why had the Breed leaders, the very same ones that had sat in her father’s living room such a short time ago and appeared so compassionate, marked her for death?
“Why?” she whispered, needing to know, to understand why she had to die by this man’s hand when she would so much prefer to be stroked by it.
The hard, savage smile that pulled at his lips was accompanied by a flash of white-hot lust in the odd, amber-speckled eyes staring down at her.
“Orders, baby.” A shiver raced through her at the hard rasp of his voice.
Orders? Jus
t because of orders?
He was going to kill her despite the fact that he was iron hard and hot between her thighs, the erect length of his cock pressing firmly against her sex.
He was going to kill her despite the fact that he was the only man she’d ever felt her body grow hot and moist for?
“Damn,” she whispered. “This really sucks.”
* * *
Why the hell did she think he was there? Devil questioned silently. Hell, wasn’t she the one that requested asylum while her grandfather Walter O’Sullivan was under investigation for having overseen one of the most notorious Breed labs in Ireland? Hell, it was even the Breeds who had managed to track him down. Then, once he disappeared, it was Breeds that found him once again, and took him into custody.
It wasn’t as though he had volunteered.
It sure as hell wasn’t as though he wanted to be right here, right now, his body strung so tight, his dick so hard, that he was amazed he could still breathe.
Or could he?
He felt lightheaded, as though he couldn’t quite pull in enough oxygen, couldn’t convince his body that he was drawing in air.
What the hell was she doing.
Trying to push him away?
Before she could push against his chest with her dainty little hands, he caught both her wrists, pulled them above her head and pressed them into the floorboard firmly.
Hell no she wasn’t pushing him off her. He liked the position they were in just fine. With her pretty legs spread, her thighs gripping his hips as though she had no intention of ever letting him go, and all the while her hot little pussy was pressed just as tight against his cock as possible.
Damn, she was pretty too. The pictures he’d seen the night before hadn’t done her justice.
Forget pretty, she was fucking gorgeous.
