Megan's Mark (19 page)

“Sorry Lion Man, but that’s not exactly how it works.” She snarled, her chin lifting defiantly as she stood before him like a spitting little tabby cat. “This Mating Heat stuff doesn’t change that. And while we’re on that subject, just how many different women can you do this to, anyway?”

Braden tensed. He hadn’t expected this one, and evidently she had just thought of it herself. Her eyes widened then narrowed as her lips tightened in suspicion.

“As far as I know, Breeds mate only once. For life.” At least that was the information he had received. “Just as true lions are known to.”

“Real lions have a freakin’ harem,” she spat out, her eyes glinting suspiciously. “One male, up to a dozen females.”

“They mate only one,” he assured her arrogantly. “And pray to Heaven I follow their example because if I had to deal with another woman even similar to you, I would go ahead and walk into a den of Coyotes for the relief. You, Megan, are threatening to destroy any control I have managed to learn over the years.”

“It better be a one-time deal,” she muttered, frustration thick in her voice as she paced the room once again. “Because I don’t share.”

Seconds later she stopped, turned to him, and narrowed her eyes. “If you’re such a big-shot assassin, why haven’t you tracked down the people who murdered the Breeds here?”

“First, I need to know who I’m tracking.” He grunted. “You keep killing the suspects, Megan. You can’t question what isn’t breathing. Out of four Coyotes sent after you, you’ve left only one alive. Give me something to work with here, baby.”

She crossed her arms over her breasts. Nice, plump little breasts that fit his hands exactly. Hard nipples spiked beneath the cloth of her T-shirt and the scent of her need whipped through his senses like wildfire burning out of control.

“It’s kind of hard to be nice when those assholes are trying to kill me.” She finally shrugged. He had a feeling she had intended to say something far different.

“Once I learn who is behind it, then I’ll go hunting.” He kept his relaxed pose, leaning against the counter, ignoring the almost hidden glances she made toward the erection straining against his jeans. At this rate, his cock would end up bursting the zipper before the day was out.

“Yeah, you do that,” she finally muttered, turning away from him to pace back to the table.

She stood behind the chair, leaning against it as she stared down at the computer once again. The information there was not what was on her mind. He could feel her nervousness now, knew what had been coming. Her subtle glance at the erection straining beneath his jeans warned him that her attention had now shifted from his killing expertise to other matters. Those matters weighed heavily on his own mind, and were the very ones he had wanted to avoid.

“It’s called a barb,” he informed her coolly, knowing that putting it off wouldn’t make it easier. “But I have a feeling you already knew that.”

A deep flush filled her face then, and he swore her nipples tightened further. They poked against the shirt with the same insistence of his cock pressed against his jeans.

“Did I ask?” she snapped, jerking back as she straightened fully and glared at him.

His shoulders lifted negligently. “I could see it on your face, Megan. You’re so nervous you’re about to jump out of your own skin. There’s no sense beating around the bush or ignoring what happened.”

“I could be a little put out that I seem to be stuck with an arrogant know-it-all assassin intent on pissing me off this morning,” she pointed out, managing to project cool disdain despite her embarrassment. “That would throw any girl off track, don’t you think?”

“Some, perhaps.” He tilted his head in acknowledgment as a smile tugged at his lips. “I think it excites you more than anything else. Your nipples are hard. Would they get harder if I told you about all the cool weapons you could play with?”

She breathed in deeply, her expression becoming mutinous as she stared back at him.

“Oh yeah, blood and guts really just turn me on.” She snorted sarcastically. “I bet yours would do wonders for me.”

“It’s not my blood you want right now, Megan.” He tensed as her gaze dropped once again, her breathing becoming heavier as her eyes flickered over his crotch before jerking up once again. “It’s a little late for pretense, baby. That barb might have you nervous as hell, but you want it. I can smell it.”

“I’m going to cut your nose off.” She rubbed at her arms before a light shiver shook her slender frame. It was building in her, just as Jonas had said it would. The need to mate, to conceive. For three days to a week the overwhelming need would be near impossible to deny. After that, the arousal would be easy to tempt, though the reactions closer to normal.

Nothing would make the barbing disappear. Thank God.

It was the most pleasure he had ever known with a woman.

More pleasure than he had ever given one, even under the influence of the scientist’s drugs.

“I thought your little pill was supposed to fix this.” Her voice was huskier, filled with her heat as it began to climb within her.

“It only eases the harsher effects of the Mating Heat. There will be no pain if you don’t deny the arousal.” She might not be in pain, but it was killing him.

She swallowed tightly as she stared back at him, her gaze mischievous, hungry. Her high cheekbones blazed with heat as she dampened her pouty lips with the flick of her pink tongue once again. He wanted to feel that tongue.

Licking him, stroking him.

This was his woman; his scent covered her, his seed filled her. His teeth clenched with his need to mark her. He had denied himself the growing desire to give her that sensual bite to her neck the night before. Had fought the impulse with every straining inch of control he possessed. Today, he would not deny himself.

She licked her lips again, slowly, weighing her options, he thought in amusement. The woman was definitely attempting to side with caution this morning. He wondered which would win out, the need for caution or the need to fuck. He knew which one he hoped would win.

As he watched, he felt a frisson of unease skirt down his back as her expression suddenly cleared of nervousness and indecision. It was replaced with pure feminine sensuality. It was enough to make a grown man wary.

A second later her eyes darkened to near black and the flush on her face deepened. Hunger filled her. He could smell it on the air around her, taste it in the spicy hormone that suddenly flirted on his taste buds as the glands beneath his tongue began to throb in demand.

He tensed as she moved, walking slowly around the table with her eyes narrowed on him. He almost smiled. It was more than obvious that the little minx was out to prove something. He just wasn’t certain what.

“You are starting to irk me, Braden,” she told him as she rounded the table, gliding forward as the scent of her arousal began to cloud his mind, and his judgment. Damn, he wanted nothing more than to throw her to the table and fuck her until she screamed for mercy. Or for more.

“I do seem to be rather good at that.” He contained his laughter. Hell, he was fighting for breath as her hand flattened against the tight muscles of his abdomen, the silken warmth sinking into his flesh as her nails pressed into the skin.

He uncrossed his arms, one hand reaching out to thread through her long hair as her lashes fluttered.

“Be certain, Megan,” he growled out. “I’m riding a very thin edge of control right now. I cannot promise you gentleness.”

She opened her eyes, the dark depths reflecting so many emotions they took his breath. He could feel her fears swirling around him, the fear of the bond between them, her wariness of it. She had been alone so long. Too damned long. Forced to forget she was a woman with needs. Forced to hide herself and her gifts in her quest to protect those she loved. Her dedication to her family, her obvious love and sacrifice for them touched him. How much more loyal would she be to a lover, or to one who held her heart?

His patience was a fragile thing right now. Despite his best efforts, he could feel his normal calm eroding further as the animal impatient to mate surged to the surface. He grimaced as her nails scraped his abdomen, scratching along his flesh until they stopped at the waistband of his jeans. She smoothed her hand over the waistband, her fingers pausing at the snap, delicate, graceful fingers that trembled.

Braden trailed his hands down her arms, curiously watching the small shivers that raced over her flesh. He was certain her responsiveness was due to the Mating Heat. But she was his mate. What did it matter why?

“You are as soft as the finest silk.” He sighed, losing himself in her passion.

“I need you.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “I’m not used to needing someone else like this Braden. It terrifies me.”

He could feel that fear pouring from her. The aching knowledge that she was bound to him, that for the first time in her life she couldn’t run. She couldn’t protect herself, or him, from the changes rapidly taking over her life. Megan had built her life around protecting others. And doing it alone.

“I like your need for me.” He caressed her waist, pushing beneath the T-shirt to touch warm, soft skin. “Feeling it wrap around me, binding me. You are a miracle, Megan,” he told her softly. “My miracle.”

The zipper lowered slowly, easing over the erection throbbing painfully beneath the material. God help him, he wouldn’t last long at this rate. Lust already burned inside him, prickling over his flesh, demanding that he touch her, taste her… possess her.

His.

A low, tortured growl left his throat as she slowly freed him from his jeans.

Uncertainty and fear were rapidly losing way beneath her hunger. He felt it pouring from her, sinking into him, heightening the sensations ripping through his body.

Control.

He slammed the barriers down within his mind instinctively. He couldn’t lose control at this point. The desires rising between them were too fragile, and would be too easily damaged if he pushed at the wrong time. He needed to let her feel instead. To let her sense his needs, his passion, his pleasure.

He leaned back against the counter, giving her the opportunity to do as she pleased. To touch him, to guide the passion rising so rapidly between them. To investigate her own hungers. That was important, he knew, to allow her the freedom to touch, to accept him.

“I’ve never touched another man like this.” Her nervous admission broke his heart. She was a woman of strength, of passion; to have denied herself to the point that she rarely touched, or allowed herself to be touched, must have been agonizing for her.

“That’s okay, baby.” He groaned. “You are doing exceptionally well.”

Her fingers traveled the length of him, stroking from balls to tip as she tortured him with her touch. Leaning forward, her lips touched his chest, her tongue peeking out to lick at his flesh tentatively.

Sweet merciful God… His thighs bunched as pleasure slammed through him, rocking him as her fingers smoothed just beneath the head of his cock, where the barb had emerged and locked his cock into the tight depths of her vagina the night before.

“You can feel it.” Her voice was reverent, filled with pleasure, a pleasure that was killing him as she probed at the ultrasensitive flesh where the barb would emerge later. “Just beneath the skin. It throbs.”

His whole body throbbed. Ached. Screamed out for her touch as her breath caressed his skin. Her lips moved over the hard muscle, her tongue licking, spreading fire across the flesh as her head dipped, her teeth raking the hard, flat nipple that rose to her touch. And all the while her fingers stole his breath as they stroked his cock.

“Baby, this is a very dangerous game you’re playing.” He fought to hold back, to allow her the freedom she needed.

Yet she also needed to understand that a very thin edge of control separated the man from the animal.

“I like living dangerously. Remember?” He felt her smile a second before she began to move lower, lips and tongue raking across his skin as she moved closer to the straining length of his cock.

That fickle flesh jerked in rising anticipation, eager for her kiss, the liquid warmth of her mouth. His mouth filled with the taste of the hormone spilling from the glands beneath his tongue. He swallowed slowly, his teeth gritting as his lust rose higher, hotter. Sweet God, he was burning alive.

“This is insane.” He growled as her tongue painted a trail of electric sensation down his abdomen. His hands moved from her waist, reaching for her head, for the soft weight of her hair as she drew steadily closer to the trembling, eager flesh throbbing in her hand.

He prayed for patience, for control. She needed this, perhaps even more than he did. Needed to touch and taste where before she had never been able to, never dared to. And God knew he wanted it more than he wanted his next breath.

“Hmm, it’s hot.” She was going to kill him with pleasure. “Hot and sexy. You make me feel sexy, Braden.”

Wonder filled her voice, pierced the savage haze spreading through his mind.

“God help us both, Megan. You are so fucking sexy you burn me alive.” Her tongue licked teasingly at his navel as his hips jerked in reaction, driving his cock closer to her hot little mouth. “But so help me, if you tease me much further you may have little choice in this game you’re playing.”

Chapter Thirteen

She could feel his desire, his hunger. It raged around her, inside her, whipping through her mind, her body, until the lust that filled her overwhelmed her caution, her reserve. She knew what he wanted, what he ached to feel.

Her fingers gripped the width of his straining erection as her mouth watered to taste his flesh. The desire was like a beast raging inside her until she lowered her head to the silken crest.

She licked the desperate flesh rather than consuming it as she knew he wanted. Her tongue slid over the damp head, licking at the small drop of pre-come that beaded from the slit. He jerked in her grip.

The taste of heated male, salty and wild, filled her with an addictive hunger that she knew had little to do with the arousal she could feel pouring from him. Her hunger, her need, tore through her unlike anything she had known before.