Page 44 of Brandon’s Mate

Brandon thought she was beautiful. He’d wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair, and he was kissing her.

Not hot and hard like he had before, with his panther all growly and snarly and hot and sexy.

But slowly, with intense concentration, as if tasting her lips was the only thing in the entire world that mattered.

Maybe it was.

She inched closer, sliding her hands over his abs, feeling the hard strength of him while he drank in her kisses as if he’d been lost in the desert for years, and she was his first taste of water.

This was the Brandon she knew—intensely passionate, needing love and caring and touch, and never being able to tell that to anyone. Tough and strong, a loner, but with that small needy place inside him that he tried with everything in him to deny.

Underneath his emotions, she could feel his cat—so lost, wanting something he thought he could never have. A mate? A crew? She didn’t know. He’d always had that desire, but now it was laced with pain and regret, like it was something he’d once had and knew he could never get back.

Whatever had happened three years ago, it had broken him.

Her wolf wanted desperately to soothe them both, make them whole again.

Warmth blossomed in her chest, and she pressed herself against Brandon, trying to give him some of it so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

His lips moved across her cheek and down her neck, still slow and deliberate, like he had to taste and learn every inch of her. Kitty let her head drop back, running her hands up underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

He was so warm, and his skin was like velvet over the ridges of his muscles. His lips and his skin felt so good she made a little yummy sound, and she felt him smile.

“You know what I want?” he murmured in her ear.

“Mmm.” His kisses had made her word-making skills disappear again.

“I want the chance I never had.” He closed his teeth gently on her earlobe, making her moan, and then ran his tongue over the exact perfect spot on the side of her neck before kissing it again.

“I want to carry you into my bedroom.” He kissed the base of her neck. “And take all your clothes off.” He kissed her collarbone. “And kiss you all over. Make you feel like no one else has ever made you feel. Ruin you for every other man, so you’ll never want anyone but me.”

She was probably already ruined. She’d had other boyfriends, but they were just practice. She’d never really wanted anyone but him.

But she wanted him to try anyway.

“Okay,” she said, trying and failing to stifle another moan. “I hope it takes a really long time.”

It did. He carried her into the bedroom and undressed her slowly, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered, until Kitty started to think she’d die with wanting him.

When he pulled off her bra and drew her nipple into his mouth, it sent shafts of desire all the way to her core. “I’ve wanted to do that for six damn years,” he said. “So much I couldn’t let myself think about it.”

His fingers stroked her skin, traced her curves, and his eyes glowed with a hint of gold-green in the dim light that spilled in from the kitchen.

She felt his claws manifest, and the tiny growl in his chest. “Sexy wolf,” he said. His claws trailed down her belly, barely touching, sending shivers of wanting all through her.

She was still wearing panties but she wanted to be naked with him, ached for him to touch every part of her. He teased her with his teeth and claws, closing his jaws over her hipbone in a not-quite-bite.

Her wolf growled, and he smiled.

Kitty ripped his t-shirt all the way up the side and pulled it off. That drew a little snarl out of his panther. She ran her hands up the hard muscles of his back. “Don’t make me shred your jeans,” she murmured.

He just gave her that sexy grin that had always melted her heart, and then clawed her panties right off without even scratching the skin underneath. He retracted the claws and moved down, parting her legs and wrapping one strong bare arm around each of her thighs.

“You’re not ruined yet,” he said. He kissed his way down her inner thigh until he reached her core, and then kissed her there, swirling and pressing with his tongue, slow and sweet.

After all the waiting, all the sensations, Kitty almost came then and there. She gave a long, drawn-out moan—almost a howl—and heard Brandon’s panther growl again in response.

And then she lost track of everything, except the feeling of Brandon licking, tasting, stroking, building the sensations he’d stoked so slowly into a raging inferno.