Therian Prize(55)

He raised his head and grinned. “If you’re worried about my balls then don’t come until I do.”

Rather than wait for her reply, he traced her crease with his tongue, a light, teasing caress that made her clit tingle and her core tense. She fought back the heat rushing to her pussy. If he wanted her to wait, she’d wait. She had just as much control over her desire as he did.

He held her open with his free hand and circled her entrance with his tongue. His patient caresses increased the pressure gathering deep inside her but she stubbornly relaxed her inner muscles each time they started to spasm.

“Maybe you need something to squeeze.” Amusement made his tone even deeper as he pushed his fingers into her core. Two, or was that three? She clenched her fists and waited for the shuttling movement that would shatter her resistance. “Good girl. Wait for me.”

His mouth settled over her clit, tongue swirling, lips lightly plucking. She cried out as sensations spiraled up the inner walls of her passage. He wasn’t moving his fingers, just teasing her with fullness and allowing her imagination to do the rest.

She arched and wiggled, trying to create the friction her body craved. He simply moved with her and the sensations built without cresting, driving her utterly insane.

“Please.” She gasped as an especially strong spasm gripped her. “Let me come.”

In a flash he was over her, both hands on her hips as he drove his cock into her neglected passage. Her leg slid from his shoulder and caught on his upper arm. He quickly shifted his other arm under her leg, balancing her pelvis. Then he rocked into her, filling her completely with each strong drive.

She raised her hands high above her head and arched her back, pushing her breasts upward. He rewarded her display with a quick suck to each nipple, but a stronger need soon took over. He thrust fast and hard, muscles flexing as he moved against and into her.

“Touch me.”

Thrilled by his need for her touch, she happily obeyed the terse command. She supported herself with one hand so she could reach him with the other. He continued to fill her while she stroked his chest, shoulders and neck. His chiseled body had fascinated her for months and now she was free to enjoy him.

The freedom didn’t last long, however. Her awkward position soon became too much of a distraction. He pulled both arms out from under her legs and urged her back on to the bed. He followed her down, his chest rubbing against her breasts. Her legs caressed his sides as he moved with frantic urgency.

He tilted his head and fit his mouth over hers then his tongue took on the rhythm of his hips. She could no longer move, could only accept and surrender. Her core squeezed him, clinging to him as he slid in and out.

Sensations rushed up through her, frightening and intense. She cried out into his mouth as she came in strong, rippling waves. He shuddered against her and jerked inside her, his seed escaping in rhythmic spurts. They clung to each other, kissing wildly, lost to everything but the shattering pleasure.

She finally turned her head, separating their mouths so she could catch her breath. Tingling echoes still zinged through her body but a hollow ache remained within her soul. This was what she’d wanted, all she’d allowed. So why did she feel so sad?

* * * * *



Burning pain jarred Zophiel out of unconsciousness. For one horrifying moment she’d been back in the barn, surrounding by flames, listening to her sister’s helpless screams. Then darkness consumed the fire and she woke up here. But where was here?

Tigers. She’d learned that Heather Fitzroy was consorting with tigers, so she’d decided to capture the wayward wolf. The backers were searching for Heather and her own pack was hunting her. Zophiel decided to find out what all the fuss was about.

But Jake’s security had been impressive. The only way to sneak past his guards had been to possess one of them. Controlling that stupid tigress had been much harder than Zophiel expected. Natasha fought so hard Zophiel had nearly lost control. She’d meant to linger long enough to muddle Natasha’s mind, but the tigress had poured the last of her energy into her mental shields then slipped into a coma. The tigress was so depleted it was likely she’d die, but the possibility that she’d recover made Zophiel restless. She hated loose ends.

And speaking of depleted, she was so weak she could barely move. She slowly lifted her head. It was a struggle to think past the ringing in her ears. Where the hell was she? The last thing she remembered was flying away from Aspen as fast as she could. She wasn’t ready for Ian to realize he’d failed to kill her and the nosy raptor often swooped in at the first sign of trouble.

Ian. Just his name made her want to smash things, preferably his smug face. She couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he realized she was still alive. This was the second time arrogant Therians had failed to kill her. The first time Ian’s best friend had been to blame. Payne. She shuddered and ground her teeth. She hated that name even more than Ian. She hated to be bested and both Ian and Payne had won battles against her. Still, the war was far from over.