Tempting Whispers: The Kategan Alphas 6 (10 page)

He snapped.

He moved in a flash and had her body
pressed against his, his mouth on hers, his tongue inside in a heartbeat. God,
she tasted
good
. Fresh, womanly, and a little like citrus. He took her
mouth hard and wet. When the hands shoving against his chest stopped and reared
up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer like she’d die if she didn’t, he
wanted to send a prayer of thanks up above.

But the kiss wasn’t enough. His hands
needed to feel. He cupped her ass and squeezed, a groan leaving him at the
soft, pliable skin he found there, and lifted her up. Her legs went around him,
a soft gasp blowing over him, then his mouth moved down to ruthlessly latch
onto a nipple.

Her hands moved into his hair and tugged
on the strands which made his cock throb. “You have sweet nipples,” he said
against her breast. A whiney moan left her and she thrust her chest forward,
eager.

His mind raged with need, the urge to
take, and he couldn’t control it. He walked and when her back hit the refrigerator,
only his hands on her lush ass keeping her up, he released her nipple. With a
tuck of his chin, he caught the top of her shirt and pushed it down to reveal
her breast.

“Fuck...” He met her eyes and found them
hungry, soft, and more than a little needy. “I’m going to suck on that, baby.
Tell me now if you don’t want me to...” That’s the only warning he could give
her.

He only had to wait a second before she
nodded eagerly and his shoulders relaxed. He pressed his lips to her collarbone
then trailed them down. Her breasts were fucking
perfect
. Soft and pert
and gorgeous with dusky brown nipples. His tongue darted out and lapped around
the hard puckered tip. Her hips thrust against him in response and he couldn’t
keep his mouth from sucking her deep, nor keep his hands from threading under
her little shorts to cup and squeeze bare skin. She made soft, sexy-as-fuck
sounds in the back of her throat that sent his blood pumping way too fast and
his cock throbbing way too hard. God, she was soft
everywhere
.

She kept repeating his name, his whole
name, and again with that soft, husky voice of hers. And her little body writhed
and arched against him, giving him all the signals he needed. With a hard tug,
he bared her other breast, then laved it with the same attention. Her aroused
scent teased him, taunted him. She smelled fucking delicious. He wanted to bury
his face between her legs and lick her, find out if she tasted as good as she
smelled.

He couldn’t stop touching her. Couldn’t
keep his hands still, not when they were touching bare skin and so close to her
sweet spot. He dipped one hand down further, between the soft globes of her ass
and eased into wetness. A lot of it.

“Holy fuck,” he groaned against her wet
nipple.

Her harsh breathing teased his ears,
taunting.

“So beautiful. So wet, baby.” He almost
couldn’t believe his own ears, the words spilling from his lips. They were all
true and none of them carefully thought about or controlled. How could he when
his mind spun and need roar in his ears, in his blood, to pierce her with his
cock and fuck her until they were both limp and sweaty?

His fingers slipped further down and
spread through her soft sex, circling her sensitive spot once. She stilled in
his arms, her breath hitching, and when he didn’t circle it again, her hands
slipped to his shoulders to squeeze painfully hard.

“Do it. Do it. Oh, please, do it,” she
said quickly, her words panting together.

He kissed his way up her chest, across
each breast, then found her neck and licked the slender column where the
tendons stood taut with strain. He panted, his lips parted, because in a
second, his fangs dropped and he shook with a different need. His sac pulled
tight, need screaming at him to pierce her neck, fill her with his cock.

He tried to ease one of those needs and
slid a finger inside her. So hot, so wet, she engulfed him with her tight
little sex. He had to slam his mouth against hers lest he dropped his pants
right there and take her. Her tongue met his, taking and giving as good as he
gave. Her body trembled with need, actually fucking trembled...but he wanted to
see it do more. So he pumped his finger in and out.

Cries left her, meshing against their
wet kiss. Her body writhed and plastered against him, her hands kneaded and dug
into his shoulders in the sweetest way possible as her feet dug into his ass,
trying to arch him subconsciously into her.

He tore his mouth away and stared down
into her face. She was beautiful, achingly so. Her heavy gaze met his, her labored
breathing panting across his lips, and still he kept his finger moving in and
out. In and out.

“You’re going to come for me.” Her eyes
widened and then her breaths came faster. She nodded, her thighs actually
falling open even more. “You’re beautiful, baby. Beautiful and something
special.” Her gaze stayed wide, then she tugged on his head and pushed her
tongue into his mouth. Fine by him.

He kept his hold on her bare ass cheek, massaging
and squeezing the softness as he removed his other hand and shoved it into the
front of her little shorts. Of course, she didn’t have panties on. These
practically were just panties. He petted the soft hair he found there and
groaned into the kiss. He had to kiss her harder to keep himself from dropping
to his knees and burying his tongue up inside her. Instead, he trailed his
fingers through her sex, petting and rubbing her, feeling her get hotter,
wetter, her hips humping against his hand.

“So eager, baby.” He trailed his lips to
her ear and tugged as his fingers worked slowly, not quite touching her where
she’d explode, but teasing and building it up. His lips found her neck and he
licked, sucked the skin tight into this mouth, his fangs just pressing against
the sensitive flesh. “I bet you taste good.”

Her breath caught. “Do it.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and barely
managed to close his mouth over his fangs. With a brief, hard shake of his
head, he kissed her again, then sent his fingers spiraling around her needy
slick sex. She came apart so easily. He couldn’t help his husky laughter as she
shook and trembled in his arms; her cries made him nearly shoot. More wetness
covered his hand and it wasn’t enough.

“Again,” he said. Then he rubbed her,
stuffed his fingers inside and worked her up until she shattered a second time,
this one lasting even longer, the shivers not leaving for a good minute.
“Beautiful,” he told her.

Her head fell against his shoulder and
with a wince, he let her legs slide to the floor and slowly unstuck his chest
from hers. Her head lolled to the side, her lips parted and still breathing
unevenly. He looked down at her. He shouldn’t have. Her breasts were bared with
the little shirt stuck underneath them, her shorts were eschew and resting
half-way down one hip, showing just a hint of her thatch of hair.

He turned away and closed his eyes. It
didn’t help. Her image was burned into his eyes, her scent still covered his
fingers, his clothes, wrapping around him in her essence. Arms wrapped around
his middle and he stiffened. Her hands flattened against his stomach then
delved down to cup him. He hissed and spun around, catching her wrists.

Her eyes were alight with hunger. She
licked her lips at him and he had to shake his head. “You can’t still be...”

Her eyes traveled down his body, nearly
making him shiver, then leveled on his bulging zipper. “Sure I can.” Her hands
curled around his cock and he stepped back with a shake of his head.

“No; just no.” Thank God, those words
made it out of his mouth, because it was the exact opposite of what he wanted
to say.

Her eyes widened. “You can make me come,
but I can’t make you? What kind of shit is that?”

He didn’t know. He just knew that his
mind was really shaken up and addled right now and he needed some time to come
down from the high and to assess just how much damage he’d caused. Even with
his mind screaming at him to take her up on her offer, let her play with him,
he knew he couldn’t. He needed to think.

“I need to think. Cover up.” He turned
away and pressed his palms into his eyes sockets. It didn’t matter though; the
sight of her small pert breasts still lingered there. “We have plans today. Get
dressed; we’re interviewing King Brunes.”

He left the kitchen on hard steps before
he did something he’d regret.

Little did he know, that later on when
his ardor had cooled and his mind settled, would he realize that he’d already
made an irrevocable mistake—and that was touching Vanessa Kategan.

Chapter 9

Sex was
way
better than alcohol.
A thousand times better, no, a million times better. And that hadn’t even been
sex sex. That had been foreplay...or messing around, or heck, she didn’t know
what it was called. It’d been fucking incredible, amazing, jaw-dropping and
better than she’d ever imagined.

And that was just with his hands.

She swooned back against her bed,
freshly showered and dressed. Not for the first time that morning, she couldn’t
stop grinning. No one had ever made her come before. She hadn’t been allowed to
masturbate with Joseph around, or else he’d want to watch, and ew. She shivered
with disgust.

Brayden had called her beautiful. He’d
touched her almost everywhere. Like he couldn’t stop himself or get enough of
her. He’d talked dirty... She definitely liked that, a lot. He had a great
mouth and fingers and a hot body. She’d still been hungry for him after he’d
set her down, reeling from
two
, freaking
two
, amazing orgasms.
She’d wanted to feel his cock slip inside her because she knew that what she’d
tasted had only been the tip of the iceberg.

Her whole taunting and teasing goal with
Brayden had just been shot the hell out of the window and she couldn’t care
less. Now, she wanted him. And he wanted her. Silly, but she couldn’t stop
smiling...or thinking about him...or thinking about doing more with him. And
she had to get more with him, had to. She wasn’t nearly done.

A knock sounded and she went to the
bedroom door, flinging it open with a smile. Brayden looked at her for about
half a second before his gaze flicked away.

“Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

Then he turned and strode down the hall.

Say what? That was it?

If he thought he could make her come
like that then pretend it never happened, he had another think coming. Fuming,
she stomped after him to the SUV. Neither of them said a word as he drove off.
She cast scathing looks his way, all the way to the gated manor of King Brunes’
estate.

She glanced at the clock and saw it’d
been nearly forty minutes since he’d knocked on her door and they took off for
Brunes’. He put the car in park as an older valet man with thinning black hair
strode toward the car. As Brayden’s hand curled around the door handle, she grabbed
his arm to stop him. He looked back at her and the rant she’d been about to
drill into him derailed like a runaway train.

“What happened at the house...that was a
game changer. There is no going back,” he said.

Whoa, her breath caught in her throat
and her chest suddenly felt really tight and uncomfortable because his gaze
radiated with searing hunger.

“Okay,” she said.

Then he got out of the car as if he hadn’t
just rocked her world upside down.

The valet managed to get to her door
before she did and opened it for her, his head bowed, eyes trained on the
ground. Brayden’s hard steps crunched against the black asphalt driveway as he
came around the door, grabbed her hand, and tugged her to the front door.

She whistled low under breath. King
Brunes had a home to fit his name. The mansion reeked of wealth. From the
lavish fountain in front of the house that had a cherub with a bow across its
back spurt water from his fist held in a circle around its mouth, to the utter
size of the house. The house had to have at least ten bedrooms, possible more
and probably just as many bathrooms. It was set back in the woods with a great expanse
of vivid green grass, cut neat and short, around it. Brayden took her to the
front door and knocked.

A few seconds later, the door was opened
by a butler actually wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath—everything
looked ironed. For some reason, that surprised. He looked like he came right
out of a movie. Then her gaze went to look inside the house and her eyes
widened. Rich. King Brunes had to be rich. Rich as in everything looked very
expensive and thereby very breakable. From the antique mahogany-looking hutch
and side tables inside the foyer, to the rustic paintings of landscapes and
people in finery on the walls.

“King Brunes is expecting you. Right
this way, sir,” the old man said just as slowly as he moved.

She passed over a plush maroon rug with
dangling fringe on the ends and her feet actually sunk into its softness. A
twitchy feeling came over her and she scratched at her arm as they followed the
butler down a long corridor complete with real old-looking floors, more art on
the walls, and glass shelves with what had to be antique pieces of art. There
was an old-looking pistol in a velvet-lined case, a sword with an arched blade
and shiny metal handle with leather wrapped over the middle and leafy engravings
in the metal. It looks like something a Calvary officer used in the Civil War.
All she could think as she eyed all this
stuff
was that Sarina had lived
here. Sweet, caring, free-loving Sarina. No wonder she’d wanted out. Everything
felt stifling, like walking through a museum.