“Stop torturing me,” she cried out, her fists clenching on his shoulder as she ground her head against the door.
“You’ve tortured me.” The rough growl of his voice sent a shiver racing up her spine; unfortunately, it was a shiver of pleasure.
She bucked against him, her breath catching as he nipped at her nipple, an erotic little pain that had her gasping with the exquisite sensation. Gasping even as she tried to grit her teeth against the wild urge to give in to him, to submit to whatever he wanted.
She didn’t beg, and she didn’t submit. No matter how much she might want to, or how desperately she had begged moments before.
Her fingers slid into his hair, clenched, pulled hard.
Her nipple popped from his mouth with a slight sucking sound, his gaze moving to hers, narrowing.
There was a warning that she had no intention of heeding. A demand that she had no intention of obeying.
“Do not—”
“Let me go.” She had to force the demand into her voice rather than begging as she had moments ago.
“Gypsy—”
“I’m no toy,” she informed him, pushing at his chest. “You can’t throw me away one moment, then demand that I submit to you in the next. I won’t have it, Rule.”
Maniacal arousal throbbed through every vein, burned every nerve ending in her body. Talons of need clenched at her lower stomach, tightening in her womb as the sensitivity of her clit became painful.
She needed.
She needed so much more than he was giving her . . .
His hand moved, too quickly to avoid him. It buried itself in her hair as he pulled her head back. His lips slammed over hers again. His tongue speared past her lips, peppermint and chocolate a taste that teased her senses, becoming more addictive as her tongue licked over his, her lips attempting to catch it, to catch more of the addictive taste.
She was only distantly aware of his hand releasing the band of her jeans. Then the feel of the zipper loosening at the side of her boots. His lips moved to her ear, nipping, taking stinging sips of her lips as he undressed her, controlling her with effortless ease.
“Freaky fucking mating drug,” she moaned as his lips moved to her shoulder while he maneuvered her to drop the bra and remnants of her shirt to the floor.
His teeth raked against her shoulder, sending a rush of fiery sensation shooting through her senses.
The need to feel his teeth there, nipping harder, biting . . .
Whimpering at the pleasure, the needs rushing through her like a conflagration of flames, Gypsy could only follow his direction as he moved her legs, forcing them to the floor as he dragged her jeans over her hips.
As he lowered his head, his lips found the tight point of her nipple again, sucking it in, surrounding it with such heat, such pleasure that she could only cry out and surrender to the hunger building inside her. The pleasure from his hands stroking over her thighs, pushing the material from her until she could kick it from her legs.
She was naked, burning for him.
The stroke of his fingers along her inner thighs had her legs parting for him, her breath stilling in her chest, heart racing.
“Oh God, Rule, please,” she tried to scream, but could only beg.
Parting the swollen folds, his thumb raked her clit as his finger pushed demandingly into the clenched, hungry depths of her pussy. It rasped over inner flesh so sensitive she felt her legs weaken, knees shaking at the ecstatic rush of sensation raging through her.