Tempting The Beast(28)

Callan couldn’t control it. His hips began to thrust his cock harder inside her, the ultra sensitivity of the

barb making the pleasure so damned good he wanted to howl with it.

“Does it hurt you?” he demanded again, gritting his teeth, fighting for control.

“No,” she cried out, her hand moving to grip his slamming hips. “Ah, more. I need more.”

He pushed her to her stomach, moving behind her, instinct guiding him now, the pulse of pleasure

overtaking his mind. Spreading her thighs wide he slammed his hips into her buttocks, feeling his scrotum

tighten against the base of his cock as he drove deep and hard inside her. His head lowered, his teeth

gripping the sensitive area between shoulder and neck as she screamed out in pleasure. And it was

pleasure. She was begging for more, held still by his hard body, his plunging hips, the sharp teeth that

held her still for his invasion.

He was the animal he had always feared. In the back of his mind, Callan was appalled at his own

actions, but helpless in the face of the frenzy overtaking him. The barb was only half erect, sensitive,

sliding, gliding over tight vaginal walls and smooth flesh. It was more than he could bear. He could control

himself no longer.

Primitive, throaty, his growl demanded her surrender, her submission to him as he powered inside her,

over and over. She was crying out now, her body tight, reaching, desperate. The barb extended full

length, scraped, she screamed out in desperation, her muscles locking on his erection as her orgasm

swept over her once again. Callan plunged deep and hard, his own climax rocking his soul, the growls

constant now, rumbling from his chest as he felt the hard spurt of his semen inside her, the burning grip of

her muscles, the wash of her own release.

Then she was still. Slowly, the inner muscles unlocked and Callan felt his own erection begin to subside

minutely. Her body became pliant, relaxed and he knew that either sleep or unconsciousness claimed her.

Either, he knew, would be a welcome relief for her.

Panting, he lay down beside her. Jerking sheet and comforter from the foot of the bed, he covered them

both, weariness lying heavy on his shoulders. He tucked her body close to his, breathing in her scent, her

warmth. He was exhausted. Never had he climaxed so hard, so deep. As though his seed were being

jerked from his soul, rather than the tight sac beneath his cock.

“Mine,” he whispered the word as his grip tightened on her, exhaustion draining him. He was aware he

made the claim, and he admitted it terrified him clear to his soul.





CHAPTER ELEVEN



Merinus awoke, tender and groggy. She shifted in the bed, seeking the warmth that had held her through

the night, but Callan was gone. Opening her eyes she blinked, stared up at the ceiling and tried to ignore

the pressing need that still throbbed in her vagina. Damn, talk about a potent kiss. She licked her swollen

lips experimentally. Callan had nibbled on them more than once, licked them. His tongue, the rough

texture of it, the stimulating feel of abrasive velvet running over her skin, the memory of it caused her to

shiver.

She needed a shower. Dried perspiration itched on her skin, made her feel grungy. The smell of sex, hot

and wild, lingered on the air and on her body. She grimaced. Rising from the bed, she stepped gingerly

over the cool hardwood floor, moving to the opened door on the far right of the room. A bathroom,

complete with a large sunken tub and a brief written message on the counter greeted her.

Bathe. Relax. Stay in the house. I’ll return soon with your things. So much for her camp, she sighed.

After the hours it took to set it up so neatly, it might have been nice to actually use it for longer than a few

hours. She wondered how long he had been gone, then decided it didn’t really matter. He would return

soon enough, and she desperately needed that bath.

She ran the tub nearly full, adding a liberal portion of bubbling bath salts she found at the edge of the tub,

then eased herself into the hot water. She washed her hair quickly, wrapped it in a towel then lay back

against the rim to allow her body to soak. She glanced down her body, seeing the red abrasions on her

skin, small sensitive points where his tongue had stroked her a bit roughly. Her breasts were still swollen

with need, her nipples still hard.

She couldn’t understand it. The events of the day before seemed more like a dream than reality. But

reality was the tenderness between her thighs, the flush on the smooth mound of her cunt, the sensitivity

of her body. The need for Callan wasn’t as intense, as harsh as it had been the day before, but it still

throbbed in her. She still ached for him. It made no sense.

“Merinus.” Sherra’s voice called through the closed door, her knock light. “Can I come in?”