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Authors: Crystal Jordan

Prowl the Night (21 page)

BOOK: Prowl the Night
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“You are a pain in the ass, you know that, right?”
His smile grew wider. “Well, then, we're well-matched in that as well, aren't we?”
“Dios mio.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help her answering grin. A laugh bubbled out of her, and she shook her head.
He seized her mouth, catching her laughter and replacing it with a moan. Passion burst inside her, an instantaneous reaction to her mate. It was like a match to kerosene—explosive, consuming. She thrust her tongue between his lips and untangled her hands from the wrap to shove them into his hair. The soft feel of it against her palms contrasted with the hardness of his erection digging into her hip.
He slipped his hand up her thigh and under the wrap. Squirming, she tried to part her legs for him, but the skirt she wore hampered her movements. He skimmed his fingers past where she really wanted them, over her midriff, and up to her breast. The sensations were incredible. They always were with him. Her body jolted when he scraped a claw over her beaded nipple.
Ripping her mouth from his, she gasped. “Rafe, I want you.”
“I know. I can sense how hot you are for me.” He nuzzled his nose into her neck, nibbling at the tender flesh there.
“Then what are you waiting for?” She slid one hand up his chest, circling a small nipple through his shirt. The other hand she trailed down to his zipper, fondling his hard sex and the softer sacs beneath. “How much incentive do I need to give you?”
In answer, he tumbled them both onto the soft, damp grass. She landed on her back, with him on his knees between her thighs. He arched an eyebrow, shoved her skirt up to her waist, popped the elastic on her panties, and tucked them into his front pocket. “That's about enough incentive for me, thanks.”
The clink of his belt unbuckling sent tingles running down her skin. He yanked off his shirt and tossed it aside, then unfastened his pants and freed his cock. Her sex clenched, utter want shivering through her. “Fuck me, please.”
Pulling her hips up to rest on his thighs, he brought her legs up to drape over his shoulders and dipped his fingers into her sex. Her hands fisted in the grass when he toyed with her clit. Moisture gushed in her pussy, and he stroked her from one end of her slit to the other. Then he parted her buttocks and teased the tight pucker of her anus. Her heart tripped, and she closed her eyes, her breath shallowing out to nothing. Heat flushed her skin, so hot she thought she might burst into flames.
“And what if I wanted to fuck you here, my mate?”
She opened her mouth to remind him—again—that they weren't mated, but the words ended in a groan when he pressed two thick fingers into her ass. The pressure was intense, but so was the pleasure. Every nerve lit up, agony and ecstasy twisting in a white-hot sensation that screamed through her entire body.
His hand began an endless circle, where he drew fluid from her pussy and used it to ease his passage into her ass. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched her for his penetration. His other hand played with her clit, and her muscles contracted and loosened. A shudder rippled through her and her legs flexed against his shoulders, raising her hips.
“Shh.” He turned his head and kissed her ankle, her calf. “You can take me. Just relax.”
Shock seized her lungs when he plunged his fingers in and out of her anus, pressing her farther open with each pass. Then he pinched her clit. Hard. Her mouth formed a silent scream as orgasm slammed into her, a dark wave of pleasure that overwhelmed her and dragged her under. He worked her with both hands until she screamed, the clench and release of her inner muscles making her arch off the ground.
She panted, and the scent of rich, crushed grass filled her nose. It mixed with the smell of sex and
him
. He didn't let her rest, didn't give her a chance to recover. She had no control to hold onto or hide behind. It was raw and powerful. He forced her to
feel,
to react and respond. Oh, God. She couldn't survive this. A moan bubbled forth from her throat when his fingers left her ass. Then he lifted her hips until his cock nudged her rear entrance. Her claws scrabbled at the soft earth beneath her when he pushed his big dick into her ass one slow inch at a time.
When he was embedded deep inside of her, he stopped. He kissed her ankle, stroking his fingers up and down her legs. “See? I knew you could take me.”
“You're a pain in the ass.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Literally,” they quipped together.
She chuckled, and it only emphasized how full she was. Her inner muscles spasmed around him, and he groaned. One hand dropped to rub over her clit, and her thighs jerked. He clamped his other arm down on them, holding her legs against him.
Then he started to move. He withdrew from her ass as slowly as he'd entered, and the tension wound tighter inside her with every passing moment. He pushed forward a little faster, his flesh slapping against hers. The air rushed out of her lungs at the pleasured pain that sliced through her. His fingers danced over her swollen clitoris as he began to piston his cock in and out of her anus.
Her muscles squeezed around him every time he entered her, her pussy clenching on nothingness. She watched the lust play over his handsome face, and it only turned her on more to see how aroused he was by what they were doing.
“I want to mark you, Teresa. I want to make you mine,” he whispered.
Jesus, the temptation to just let him do it was so powerful, she had to bite her lip to keep the
yes
from breaking free. The Panther within her writhed in need, shoving her toward giving in and allowing her mate to claim her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the breath whistled out of her lungs when he changed the angle of penetration, stretching her ass even more.
His fangs grazed her skin, a question, a demand. Logic kicked in just in time. “N-no. Don't do it, Rafe.”
She shook her head to emphasize her point. Whatever time they had, she would savor it, but she would never mark him.
Dios,
that made her heart sting even more than the animalistic side of her screeching a protest.
He released her flesh, air gusting over her wet skin as he sighed. “As you wish.”
Arching his hips, he slammed into her, taking them both over the physical edge even if they denied the emotional, instinctual possibilities in their joining. His fingers played over her clit, working her in time with his thrusts, and they both shuddered into orgasm. Her inner muscles pulsed around his cock and he jetted come deep into her ass. Her heart pounded, her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, her body shaking with the overload to her senses. He threw back his head, his fangs bared as golden light danced over his skin. The feral display called to the feline within her and she hissed as another wave of climax rolled over her. She twisted against the grass, shivering at the contrast of the cool morning air on her flushed skin. When it was over, she relaxed, boneless and utterly spent.
The shadows of dawn gave way to sunshine, bathing them in light. He slid out of her, making them both moan at the friction on over-stimulated flesh. He collapsed facedown beside her, one arm flung over her midriff to hold her near. The gesture was sweet and possessive all at once, neither of which she should tolerate, but she stayed where she was anyway. He was getting too close, breaking down her resistance, just by being himself. Wasn't that how it was supposed to be with a man fashioned just for her? The question nagged her again—how long would she be able to resist him
and
the animalistic part of her nature?
She didn't know. Everything was so confused lately, and she didn't know what she wanted anymore, what was right or wrong. He had her in a tailspin, where logic and emotion warred with each other.
Nothing was as clear or simple as it had been before she'd met him.
 
“Good work tonight, Teresa.” Tomas rose from his seat beside her, collecting the papers he had scattered over his portion of the long conference table. The scent of stress and sweat permeated the room, and she sensed that most of the people here were grateful for the end to another day.
“Thank you. Your Pride is doing well for itself, too.” She smiled at the man who'd helped her come up with the excuse she'd needed to get here in the first place.
“I'll see you tomorrow.” He glanced down at his watch. “If I hurry, I can meet Ciri for dinner.”
“Have fun.” She waved him off, and took a moment to chat with a few other delegates on her way out of the room. She had a rendezvous of her own to get to. Rafe would be waiting, working on his next story.
She climbed the stairs to the mansion's second floor, following his scent. It lured her as nothing else ever had or would. He was in her room. But his room or hers, it didn't matter. They'd spent multiple nights in both rooms. The layering of their scents, their essences throughout the spaces was the most perfect and most tormenting thing she'd ever experienced. Perfect because it felt so right, tormenting because she knew it would fade into nothing but memory after she was gone from this place.
Time was running out.
She could feel the moments slipping through her fingers. She would leave in a matter of days. There was no reason for her to stay.
No reason she could admit to publicly, though she was fairly certain no matter how discreet they'd been that the Panthers in this den had figured out she was having an affair with Rafe.
That didn't mean anyone had discerned the true nature of their relationship, but it pained her to have to deny what was becoming so important to her. That was nothing to the pain she'd feel when she was forced to part with him, but the understanding that to lose him after they'd mated would be so much worse an agony kept her from acting on any impulse to mark him.
When she entered her room, she found him naked in her bed, his broad shoulders propped up against her headboard while he read a book. His dark brows drew together in concentration, and he made occasional notations in a leather-bound journal he always kept handy. She found the habit endearing, and stood there watching him for a moment. He was so handsome, kind and understanding, but strong enough to fight for what he believed in. He would have been the perfect mate for her, and her soul railed at fate for taunting her with something she couldn't keep.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them back. She wouldn't waste the little time she had left on sadness. “Good book?”
“Mmm, yes.” He turned a page. “Flaubert.”
“
Madame Bovary?
I think I read that at university.”
He glanced up and met her gaze. “No, it's a collection of his letters from his trip to Cairo. I'm reading it to add a different angle to the story I'm writing. Would you like to hear about his impressions of Egypt?”
The idea charmed her. She smiled, stepped out of her shoes as she walked, and sat down on the end of the bed. It had been years since anyone had read a story to her, perhaps not since she was a child and her mother was tucking her into bed for the night.
His grin was a teensy bit mischievous, as it always seemed to be. Just being near him began to relax her after the long hours of political maneuvering. The fact that he was nude only added to her enjoyment of the moment. “Yes, please.”
“One of my favorite parts is on page 117, so I'm just going to skip right to it. It's about watching a woman dance the Bee.” He cleared his throat and began to read. “‘Kuchuk shed her clothes as she danced. Finally she was naked except for a
fichu
which she held in her hands and behind which she pretended to hide . . . after repeating the wonderful step she had danced in the afternoon, she sank down breathless on her divan, her body continuing to move slightly in rhythm.'” Rafe glanced up, his dark gaze gleaming. “Flaubert also talks about making love to the dancer, ‘She is very corrupt and writhing, extremely voluptuous. . . . Her cunt felt like rolls of velvet as she made me come.'”
Teresa swallowed, stunned by the sensuality of the reading, and how his voice purring the words made her body burn. Her nipples tightened to the point of pain, and her breath rushed into panting the longer he read. She also couldn't help but notice that his cock grew harder by the second, flushing a deep red and pulsing with a life of its own. Licking her lips, she wondered what he would taste like. She'd never taken him in her mouth, never sucked him. The thought sent a wave of heat through her. She swallowed, staring at him, listening to the low growl of his voice. Squeezing her legs together, she savored the ache between them. Her body flamed out of control for him. Only for him.
Scooting forward on the bed, she reached for him. Her fingers curled around the hard shaft covered in soft skin. He groaned when she licked her way around the head of his cock. A glistening drop of pre-cum slipped free and she caught it with her tongue. The salty tang of his flavor filled her mouth. Her sex flooded with cream, and her hips moved as she struggled to contain the lust building in her body.
When she sucked him deep, he wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled. “Sweetheart, I'm going to last about ten seconds if you keep doing that.”
BOOK: Prowl the Night
11.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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