Savage Nature (47 page)

She obeyed him, opening her body to him, pressing her heels hard against the arm of the couch as his fingers slid into her slick heat. She nearly came off his lap. Her eyes met his with a kind of shock. That dazed look, so hungry and needy, nearly pushed him over the edge of his control. He wanted her to know that he was her true mate.

“We belong, Saria. I’m the one who makes you feel like this. So good, baby. And you’re made for me. Your body was made for mine.” He couldn’t wait another moment. He moved her quickly, positioning her arms above her head, pulling her legs apart so he could kneel between her legs. Her entire body shuddered with a helpless need.

He waited a heartbeat. Two. Until her eyes met his. His fingers brushed over her wet entrance. She moaned and twisted, her hips bucking, following his fingers.

“Say it, Saria. I want to hear the words.”

She thrashed under him, her eyes glittering with gold. “Please, Drake, please.”

“That’s not what I want. Say it.”

She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I love you, damn it. There. Is that what you want to hear?”

“And it’s forever. We’re forever.” He pressed his fingers into her, one shallow fiery inch and she gasped, her body gripping at him, desperate to draw him deeper.

“Yes.” Her head tossed from side to side and she lifted her hips, trying to impale herself on his fingers. “Just please do something.”

He took her with his mouth, his tongue replacing his finger, stabbing deep, drinking at her, licking, sucking, devouring her. She tasted like sweet candy, yet with a tangy bite of cinnamon and he wanted every drop. He lapped at her, holding her legs apart with strong hands, starving for every drop of liquid he could extract with his greedy mouth. Again and again he brought her to the brink while her body thrashed and bucked against his mouth, but he refused to allow her relief.

When she was mindlessly pleading, nearly sobbing, he lifted his head. “Get on your hands and knees.”

His voice had ge to a deep growl. Heat ran like a tidal wave through his veins. She complied, her soft skin covered in that fine sheen that made her feel like silk. He didn’t wait for her to settle but pressed one hand firmly on her neck, forcing her head down and her buttocks up. He slammed his cock into that fiery inferno, driving through her tight folds almost savagely.

She screamed, the sound vibrating through his body. His thick length stretched the walls of her sheath until he could feel her every heartbeat. She writhed around him, twisting, shoving back when he withdrew and plunged again and again. His hands tightened and he drove into her heat. The position allowed the deep penetration he craved as well as allowing his cock to create a tremendous friction over her sensitive bud.

Her moans rose to a wailing crescendo. Her pleas grew into a mindless, desperate chant of his name and oh-please—oh-please—oh-please. He gripped her hips and surged deep, over and over, driving through her tight, hot sheath. Each hard thrust stole her breath, rocked her body and sent her into another frenzy of gasping chanting.

Her muscles clamped down on him, gripped like a vise, scalding hot, sending ripples of pleasure through him as her orgasm tore through her, taking him with her. Her back arched, her eyes widened and she cried out as the sensation rolled over her like a tidal wave. Her tight sheath dragged his own release from him, a series of powerful contractions that seemed never-ending, pulsing around him, drowning him in pleasure.

Drake stared down at her. Both of them fought for breath. He could barely comprehend what had just happened. The explosive passion between them was unimaginable. He could feel her body still gripping his, pulsing around him. Saria seemed to be drifting, barely aware, definitely uncomprehending. He eased his body from hers, appreciating her small cry of protest.

“I’m heavy, baby,” he whispered. He brushed kisses over her chin, the corner of her mouth, her temple. “I don’t want to crush you.”

“Don’t leave me,” she murmured.

“It won’t ever happen, Saria. I’m very much in love with you. As soon as I have the strength, I’m putting you in bed.”

“I could crawl,” she offered.

“I don’t think that will be necessary. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.” He managed to get a hand up to rub the strands of her damp hair between his fingers. She always felt like silk to him. Her skin. Her hair. “Is it so damned hard to admit you love me?”

Her lashes lifted and she stared at him with eyes wide with shock. “Of course not. I’m crazy about you. I just have never said that to anyone. Maybe Pauline—once. Recently. Never as a child. And I don’t think anyone ever said it to me.”

He suppressed a groan and buried his face against her neck. He should have thought of that. Saying “I love you” had not been a drunken man’s priority. When he was sober enough, he taught her to survive, he hadn’t taught her how to love. Pauline, maybe, had fulfilled that role in Saria’s life, but she’d been careful of being too demonstrative in case Saria’s father had stopped the child from coming to see her. Drake hid a smile against her delicious skin. He doubted Saria’s father could have stopped her from doing anything she wanted to do.

He pressed a kiss into her throat and lifted his head to look ather again. “I love you. I’m saying it to you. Over and over. And when we have children, both of us will be saying it to them.”

“Okay.”

She smiled, a slow, beautiful, Saria smile that made his heart stutter and his cock pulse with life in spite of how tired he was. She made him feel alive, in the moment, every second in her company. He kissed his way up her throat to her chin and then to the corners of her mouth. “You’re so beautiful, Saria,” he whispered before his mouth settled over hers. He meant the inside of her, her character, her soul, her heart. He wasn’t a man to give flowery speeches, but she inspired them.

He sucked at her lower lip, and then licked along the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth to him. He blanketed her again, knowing he was in trouble with her. Addicted to her kisses, craving her body, loving her smile, what the hell chance did he have with her? She was going to wrap him around her finger and get every damn thing she wanted.

He lifted his head and glared at her. “We’re getting married immediately. I want our child to know we were in love and wanted each other.”

“Our child?” she echoed. “We have a long way to go before we have a child.”

“
Immediately.
If I’m going to spend my lifetime giving in to you on nearly every issue, I get this one.”

She laughed and pushed at him. “You are crazy, Drake. You’re workin’ yourself into a fine snit for no reason. We’ll get married any time you want. I said yes, remember?”

He forced his body to work. “Where’s the bedroom?”

She looked around her with a slightly daze expression. “Over there.
Tante
Marie just left a few days ago, so the blankets are still fresh. She keeps them in that closet inside a plastic tub.”

He eased his body from the couch, found he could stand and padded across the wooden floor to the room she indicated. “Why do you call her
Tante
Marie? Is she your aunt?”

Saria propped her head on her hand. “In a manner of speaking. Every child called her
Tante
Marie. She’s the recognized local
Traiteur
—our healer. She’s very good too. Everyone goes to her, all up and down the swamp. The bayous. Even from town. If she can’t find the right plant to heal you, there isn’t one.”

“And she lives here?” Drake tried to keep the shock from his voice. The cabin was very small and obviously old. Everything was very clean, but very rustic.

“She grew up here, went away to nursing school, and like most of us, found she didn’t really want to be away. This is her family home and she’s comfortable in it. Every few months she leaves for a couple of weeks to visit her sister.”

Drake spread the sheets on the bed and added pillows and a blanket before gathering Saria in his arms.

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m all sweaty.”

“I like you sweaty. It’s sexy.”

She laughed and buried her face against his chest. “On you maybe.”

He could feel her tongue sliding over his skin, tasting him. His cock made a second attemo rise to the occasion. He laid her on the bed, drinking in the sight of her, sprawled out, all that soft skin and alluring curves.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, her gaze dropping to his erection. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I don’t think I can move.”

“You don’t have to do a thing.”

He made love to her gently, taking his time, a slow, languorous expression of the way he felt. Worshipping her. Taking her to the edge slowly, a long eloquent climb as he committed every inch of her body to memory. Every sigh. Every moan. Each sensitive spot. So many kisses, coming back again and again to her wickedly sinful mouth. She was everything to him and he wanted her to know it. He might not be the best at words, but she was going to know she was thoroughly loved by the time he gave her release. She clung to him when her body fragmented and intense pleasure washed over and through her. He stayed deep inside her for a long time, holding her close, reluctant to leave her.

Drake kissed the back of her neck as he curved his body protectively around hers. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Mmm,” she murmured drowsily, snuggling closer into him. Her hand stroked over his as he covered her breast with his palm. “My leopard asked me if that was all you had. She pointed out her male had amazin’ stamina.”

“She did, did she?” Amusement tinged his voice. “He rested for at least twenty to thirty minutes. I’ll be doing the same.”

He woke her twice more before morning, and once she woke him, her mouth so hot he told her he wanted her to wake him every morning. She just laughed and snuggled back into him, sated for a short while. He figured her leopard wasn’t complaining about his performance anymore.

He drifted with the light coming in the window, just holding her, listening to her even breathing, knowing he wanted to hear that soft sound for the rest of his life. Already, he couldn’t imagine going to bed without her or waking up to complete emptiness. Rain played music on the roof and the wind drove branches into the house. He could see the mist through the window, turning the world into a glittering silver paradise for the two of them. She felt like warm, living silk, her skin heating his. He tightened his arms around her, laughing softly when his body, of its own volition, began to come alive again. He couldn’t imagine that a baby would not be the result of their coming together so urgently. If her leopard had emerged, both of them were fertile, the only time a shifter could be conceived.

Outside, a twig snapped and he went on alert. His leopard jumped, so that his skin itched and his jaw ached. He listened for another moment and heard the whisper of material brushing against leaves.

Drake lifted his head. “Wake up, baby, we’ve got company.” His fingers tangled in Saria’s hair and he brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “Wake up.”

Saria nuzzled his neck. “Mmm, a few more minutes, Drake.”

“Charisse is outside. We’ve got to get up.”

19

“JUST a minute, Charisse,” Saria called as she yank
ed a pair of jeans from the pack her brothers had given to Drake the night before. “Great. These are too long.” She wiggled her hips. “And tight. Whose are these anyway? I think some woman left her jeans in one of my brother’s rooms and I’ve inherited them.”

“Before you open that door, Saria, you listen to me,” Drake whispered, pulling a weapon from under his pillow.

She scowled at him as she fished for a T-shirt. Whoever had packed the case hadn’t believed in underwear. “A gun under your pillow? I was too occupied to think about weapons last night. I have no idea where my knife is.”

“You should be happy you have a man who puts your safety first.”

“I want you to be so crazy out of your mind for me you can’t possibly think about safety,” she objected.

Drake flashed a rueful grin. “Then I’ll admit I didn’t think about it until early this morning.” He tugged on his jeans, the grin fading. His eyes went dark and somber. “Don’t put your body between me and Charisse at any time. Not for any reason. I don’t miss, baby, and if I have to, I’ll kill her.”

The teasing laughter faded from Saria’s eyes and she went still. “Charisse would never hurt anyone, Drake. Please don’t make things worse for her by lettin’ her know you think she’s capable of bein’ a serial killer.”

“I’ll do my best, Saria, but you’ll have to trust me on this.”

She shook her head, opened her mouth to protest again, but then shrugged and hurried out of the bedroom to the front door. Drake followed her, the gun in his hand, finger on the trigger, hidden under the shirt he carried.

Charisse looked as if she’d spent the night crying. She stood looking completely absurd in her bright red short jacket and long black skirt, with red leather boots and a silk black blouse peeking beneath the jacket. Her hair, once a fashionable chignon, had begun to fall out in the rain and wind, so that tendrils fluttered around her face. She had beautiful skin and eyes and the small curls showed her features off to perfection, far more, Drake thought, than the severe, yet fashionable hairdo she chose to wear. Some people considered black widow spiders to be beautiful—he just wasn’t one of them.