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To this pleasure.
A growl rumbled against the swollen bud of her clit as his lips surrounded it, drawing on the delicate flesh as his tongue rubbed against it, stroked it . . .
Oh God . . . the pleasure was indescribable. Each lick sent electric pulses rushing through her, building, burning along nerve endings so sensitive that each touch, each caress had the power to draw her deeper into a hunger she hadn’t expected.
It swirled, building with each breathless moan, each touch.
Blinding, searing sensation rocked her senses. Muscles drew tight, her body arched and in a rush of pure, burning ecstasy her orgasm exploded through her.
Breathless, strangled cries escaped her throat. Shudders tore through her, each explosive rush of ecstasy jerking her against Graeme’s body as he slid up over her.
She was certain the pleasure couldn’t be any better. That the storm erupting inside her couldn’t become more chaotic.
Until the broad, iron-hard length of his erection surged inside the flexing, tightening depths of her vagina.
“Sweet Cat.” The primal sound of his voice at her neck was followed by the feel of incisors raking against the delicate flesh.
Cat wrapped her arms around his shoulders and turned her lips to his neck as well, her own incisors gripping the hard muscle of his shoulder where it curved away from his neck.
Pushing into each fierce thrust of his hips between her thighs, the feel of his erection surging inside her, stretching her with burning pleasure, pushed her toward a precipice she wondered if she’d survive.
Survival or not, the need to meet the flaming ecstasy he was pushing her toward became a desperate, driving race to her own destruction.
Each powerful thrust of his hips, the feel of his body covering hers, one hand gripping her hip, the other buried in her hair, fingers tightening in the strands to hold her head in place, assured her he was racing for that same blinding edge of rapture.
Her thighs tightened on his hips, her teeth grazed his neck and, in a moment of complete, blinding instinct, she bit into his flesh as the violence of her orgasm threw her over that edge with such power, such explosive sensation, that nothing else existed but the ecstasy and the man joining her in it.
She felt his release as it jetted from him. Hard, heated pulses of semen that triggered the primal erection of the male barb. It locked into place, holding him inside her as he jerked against her, his incisors piercing her shoulder and a deep, guttural growl vibrating against her shoulder.
And it was never ending.
The ecstasy continued to explode, over and over again. The jagged bolts of fiery rapture overwhelmed her senses, overtook them. And just as he’d promised her, he held her through it. Secured against
him, shuddering, defenseless, she felt herself lose something to him. Something she knew she’d regret later. Something she knew would give him the power to destroy her as he hadn’t in the past.
But he was holding her now, just as he’d promised he would.
She could feel his heart beating against her breasts, his battle to breathe as difficult as her own. Locked within her, his senses as overwhelmed as her own, his pleasure just as wild and untethered as hers.
At this moment he was hers just as much as she belonged to him.
For this moment.
• • •
Midnight was edging across the sky, the cool desert breeze drifting through the open balcony doors as Graeme laying staring into the night beyond.
Curled against his side, boneless in sleep, Cat and the gentle rhythm of her breathing seemed to soothe the restlessness that normally plagued his nights. Holding her, replete after hours of loving, had dulled that razor edge of fury that seemed to follow him closer than his own shadow, and replaced it with drowsy satisfaction.
His mate.
Stroking the heavy strands of hair that drifted over her pillow, he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that he even had a mate, especially this exquisite creature. When he’d first programmed the genetic serum for her he’d never imagined that connection he’d felt to her could be something so complex as what he felt now.
Hell, he’d been eleven years old, his mind filled with so many formulas and so much knowledge that insanity had already set in. No child, even a Breed child, should have such a capacity for decoding something so complex as the human and animal genome being researched in Brandenmore’s labs.
He’d known not just how to decode it, though; he’d known how to code it as well. The complexity of identifying and mapping the unique DNA strands was something researchers who had studied it all their adult lives still didn’t understand. Even Dr. Foster, one of the most renowned geneticists in his field, had been unable see what Graeme saw in each DNA strand under research. And even Graeme had known that 90 percent of what he knew, he’d never be able to reveal.
That knowledge had enabled him to guide Dr. Foster in the direction he needed to go for Cat’s therapies, though. As painful as they were, as agonizing as they had become, it was all that would save her life.
