Prymal Lust (3 page)

She tried to twist to face him.

He caged her in with his big body.

Positioned his cock right at her opening. Eased the tip in.

“You beast. Fuck me, SEAL.”

“Nicely,” he ordered and reached around to finger her clit.

“I hate you. Please. Please fuck me, sailor-boy.”

He gave her that one. Grabbed the stool from where it nestled the corner and placed it at her side. “One foot up. You’re going to need the support.”

When he tested her stability and found her good, Axe nudged into her core savoring the heat and slickness of her pussy. He shuddered when her walls sucked at his crown.

“Hard…please. Do me hard.”

Glad he planned ahead and set the timer to the steam at the highest level thirty minutes from when they began and knowing even if she glanced back the thick fog would block his features, he let his wolf free.

Unable to resist, he set his teeth to the sweet spot where shoulder and neck joined and drove into her.

She convulsed around him at once.

He latched onto her waist and hammered into her. Her violent contractions gripped his cock in a sensuous vise. He plundered her pussy pounding through her orgasms, clenching his teeth, and willing back his climax. She milked him relentlessly. Her vaginal muscles worked him like a squeezebox.

The sparks erupted from his toes and diffused upward snatching at his groin, drawing his balls tight. The climax struck him like a thunderbolt. He jetted in short, sharp spurts.

Tania wasn’t quite sure how they ended up dry and under the sheets in the supersize bed. She thought she might have passed out.

Wow.

She really had needed to fuck. Two months of pent-up nympho lust had made her sex crazed. Talk about mind-blowing orgasms. While she’d never been promiscuous, Tania liked sex, and never went long without a steady hook-up human buddy. But, never, ever, had she even imagined
that
kind of sex.

“Breakfast will be here in about twenty.” He rolled over to face her, elbow bent, cheek resting on his open palm.

The dense clouds carpeting the sky showed through the narrow opening of the mostly drawn drapes covering the ceiling to floor wall of windows opposite. Shadows dipped and trundled around the humungous room and, in the dimness, the streaks in his hair glinted like silver ribbons.

He trailed a finger along her collarbone and rested his thumb on the pulse throbbing there before quickly flicking up her neck to her chin. “All good?”

Heat crawled across her face. “Oh yeah.”

“So you said. Too many times to count.”

Smug arrogant macho man. She jerked onto her forearms. “I didn’t notice you complaining sailor-boy.”

“This sailor has nothing but compliments, ma’am. Come here, let me soothe those rising hackles.” He hauled her on top of him, arranged her so she straddled his groin, met her huffy glare, and tweaked a nipple. “I apologize for ever doubting you are as nature made you. Your tits are so perfect, I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

For some strange reason Tania knew this man could count on one hand the number of apologies he’d ever given. Flummoxed, she could only stare at his long tanned fingers plucking her nipple.

White-hot desire lashed through her.

The dampness coating her labia only added to her dazed bewilderment. She’d come a kazillion times maybe five minutes earlier, yet instead of being languid and sated, she felt bereft.

What was happening to her?

He wrapped one hand around her neck and outlined her mouth with his thumb. “You always hold back, don’t you? I have a hunch you’ve never let yourself go like you did in the shower.”

All at once she wanted to bawl, which was perfectly ludicrous.

What had gotten into her lately?

She shot him a baleful glance, shuddered, and tried to clamber off him.

“Aw, shit. I scared you.”

He tugged her down cheek to his chest and combed her damp curls. Somehow her hair tie had vanished and her loose waves hung to her shoulders.

“First time you got a good look at my ugly mug, right?”

The steady thud of his heartbeat lulled her rioting emotions, and it took a good five seconds before she grasped what he’d said.

Tania sat up straight and inspected his face. While the word handsome could never describe the way his features worked, neither did the word ugly. He had a high forehead, a hawkish nose, cheekbones molded by a classical sculptor, a jawline too stubborn to be believed, and his mouth. She sighed. He had the lips of a lover, full and sensual.

“You’re not ugly. In the least. What’s up with you, anyway?”

Those pewter eyes darkened to charcoal. He turned his head to the other side. “You can’t pretend you didn’t notice these.”

She leaned her elbows on his chest and peered. Only then did she notice the hundreds of thin white lines carved into his skin from right below his eyes to the ridge of his jaw. Without a nanosecond of hesitation, she set her palms to his cheeks, looked him in the eyes, and blurted, “Who did this to you?”

He went still when she traced one scar from beginning to end.

“Why should you care?”

“I’d care if this were done to my worst enemy. God, it must have been sheer torture.”

He snickered. Laid his palm on her hand trapping her fingers on his scars. “It was. Torture, that is.”

Suddenly the puzzle pieces locked together. Trying to keep the horror and pity out of her voice, she said, “You served in Afghanistan.”

“Oh yeah. Right back atcha.”

She wrinkled her nose when he threw the one phrase she’d screamed again and again every time his incredible cock hit her g-spot.

He nudged her chin. The buzzer on the door resonated. He lifted her to one side. “Breakfast—be right back.”

After he padded out of the room and closed the door, Tania pulled the covers up to her shoulders and hugged her knees.

The instant attraction she’d felt for him skyrocketed when she’d looked into those charcoal eyes with their dilated pupils in the gym’s mirror. There had been this overwhelming sense of recognition, a feeling of rightness, of being complete.

Her fingertips tingled with the urge to caress him. She gripped the sheet tighter and smiled when she got a whiff of his male spiciness. Rubbing the at-least-five-hundred-thread-count cotton over her nose, she inhaled. Soap intermingled with what seemed to be a permanent arousal mix of pheromones.

It hadn’t skipped her notice that his erection preceded him out of the room. The man had come violently not minutes ago, yet he was raring to go again.

He had a magnificent cock, the little that she’d glimpsed of it anyways. What would he smell like down there, in that silken spot between his balls and his ass? What would his cum taste like?

What the heck?

Tania lurched against the headboard, spine stiff. She never had anything but straight sex. In and out. Missionary position. Wylfen laws only allowed for that. Not once had she been tempted. She and Eva had once had a long discussion about oral sex. Wondered why it was forbidden until they were mate allianced. Why would the council allow single Wylfen males and females to fuck humans, but not each other?

Where was he? What was taking so long?

She hadn’t even gotten a good look at his package.

One more round and then she’d leave. Her pussy walls clenched. Gawd, she wanted him inside her. He was
so
thick and long. She visualized him hammering into her. From behind. Her on all fours. Ass high to deepen his cock’s penetration.

A gasp tore from her mouth.

What the hell was happening to her?

How could she want him to take her in the classic mate position?

Crap.

She had to get out of here.

Fast.

Panic lit her like a Las Vegas neon sign pulsing on fast forward. Her stomach went all fluttery and she couldn’t suck enough oxygen into her lungs. The barometric pressure nosedived and cannonballed on her chest. She threw off the sheets, wobbled to the bathroom, and hunted for her clothes.

No one could know of her carnal temptation. She had to corral her burgeoning feelings at once.

She pulled on her sweats and T, and hurried back to the bedroom carrying her shoes and socks.

He pushed the room service cart past the door at that moment.

Both of them froze.

She focused on a spot to the right of him. “I changed my mind.”

For a thunderous few seconds, the quiet screamed at her.

“Your prerogative.”

She shot him a quick peek. He had donned a hotel bathrobe. The thick white terry somehow emphasized his utter maleness. Regret lodged thick and hard in her throat. “It wasn’t—I mean, it’s me. Not you.”

“No explanations necessary.” He waved in the direction of the elevator and quirked a brow when she just stood there staring at him helplessly. Acting like a stupid crush-struck teenager. “Whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, gripped her shoes and socks so tight her fingertips burned, and darted past him, almost breaking into a sprint when she hurried through the living area. Her hand shook when she inserted the keycard he’d given her into its slot. The elevator opened immediately. Tania glanced back.

He had a shoulder jammed into the bedroom’s doorframe and one ankle crossed over the other. His bathrobe belt loosened as she stared and the white terry parted to reveal his erect penis.

The doors started to close. She jumped into the elevator. The whole ride down to her floor she worried her thumbs and rocked back and forth on her heels. More than once she reached for the penthouse button and snatched her hand back to her side. She yearned to feel his arms around her. To drown in his sexy male-musk odor. With each floor that dinged by, the yearning ratcheted exponentially until Tania couldn’t choke back a hysterical whimper.

When the elevator doors opened, a multi-generational family confronted her. Two grandparents, a young boy and girl, and their parents. As one, six pairs of eyes fixated on the colorful sneakers dangling from her hand. Then they all stared at her bare feet.

Her face flamed. She blurted, “Excuse me.”

It took all her self-control not to gallop when she darted out of the elevator. Just her fricking luck, everyone on the floor seemed to have decided to leave their rooms at the same time. Even worse hers was the last one at the end of the hallway. Tania kept her head down and prayed no one would remember her.

The shakes set in when she finally slammed her door shut. She covered her face with her hands and collapsed sinking into the plush carpet, her back braced on the hard wood.

What had just happened? What had she done?

She took several deep inhales. Called upon the training instilled into her from birth.

Be rational.

Emotion could not be relied upon.

Okay, she had made a mistake. Indulged her lust with a stranger when she should have been restrained and satisfied herself. Wylfen females were taught to avoid wild mood swings. Decorum, Discipline, and Deportment, the three D’s were the foundation of her education.

But, for the last couple of months a primordial kernel nestled somewhere deep in her core had emerged bit by bit, and she hungered to fly free of the restrictions demanded by the Wylfen Senior Council.

It all started when her Uncle Viktor, the alpha of the Prakov pack, ordered her father to enter Tania’s name into the mate alliance registry. Thank her lucky stars Dad hadn’t done so.

Yet.

With a start, Tania realized her reactions were some sort of subconscious revolt. She’d always been rebellious and never wanted the pampered life of a Wylfen female. Independence had always been her goal and, thanks to the support of her brothers, she had a career and lived outside the familial home, both rare events in Wylfen society.

Wylfen laws also prohibited her from forming an emotional relationship with a human male. It had been a law she’d broken the first day of culinary school. No one, not even her twin, knew of her friendship with Nathan, her cooking partner for her entire year at culinary school.

Of course, being as Nathan hadn’t a heterosexual bone in his body, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. But then again, the Wylfen laws also punished homosexuality with castration. So, she had lived two separate lives, a carefree exploratory life at school, and the demure subdued role demanded of her as a female when in Wylfen society.

Blowing out a long sigh, she flexed her fingers, and rolled her head to loosen the corded muscles at her nape. She remembered the feel of his teeth on her flesh and went cross-eyed trying to see if he left marks on the bridge of her shoulder.

Then it hit her like an exploding rocket.

She recalled the dimmed lighting in the gym and his suite, and the thick fog of steam in the bathroom. He had taken her from behind even though she tried to twist to face him. He hadn’t wanted her to see his scarred cheek.

“And what did I do? I hightailed it out of there not seconds after he’d bared himself to me.” She slapped her forehead. “He’ll think I left because of his scars.”

For a heartbeat all she could see was the resignation in his eyes when she’d looked back at him before jumping into the elevator. Tania bounded to her feet, checked her T pocket to make sure she still had the keycard, and lit out of her room at hurricane speed, bent on one goal—apologizing for her sorry, selfish impulsive behavior.

It took forever to wind her way back to his suite and when the elevator doors finally opened, she stumbled into the living area to find an army of housekeepers darting around the room. The woman nearest to her, who wielded an industrial strength vacuum, glanced Tania’s way and switched off the machine.

“May I help you, miss?” She pronounced the last word with a strong Spanish accent—meees.

“Ah, I’m here to see the man who’s renting this suite.” Her tongue felt thick and heavy in her mouth.

“He checked out, miss.”

“How’d it go?” Lycus propped booted feet on the cheap metal desk and cradled his head in his hands.