When An Alpha Purrs(9)
She clung to him, fingers gripping the muscles of his broad shoulders. Forget her earlier determination to stay away. He was right about one thing; she wanted him. Wanted a night of passionate and wild sex.
A no-strings, pleasurable event just for the hell of it.
But she'd prefer it not be in public.
"I know of an empty bed," she whispered brazenly against his mouth.
"A bed would be nice, but I don't know if we'll make it," was his reply.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll see."
Why did his ominous words make her channel clench and quiver in pre-orgasmic delight?
Chapter Nine
There were times Arik thanked the fact he didn't always follow trends. Times like now.
Unlike many men of wealth, Arik didn't much care for tiny sports cars. For one, he was a big man who liked his space, and for another, he wanted something with substance protecting him when on the road, hence his purchase of a fully equipped Escalade, and he meant fully equipped. Buttery-soft leather seats, tinted windows, a kick-ass sound system, and his favorite part, which all felines coveted, heated seats.
He had another reason to thank his foresight in buying a big vehicle, given the very spacious interior and custom-crafted wide front seat that made it easy for him to haul Kira onto his lap.
"I thought we were going to my place," she protested.
"We will. In a minute." Or two. Or three. Right now, he had no interest in driving anywhere. All he wanted was to continue their kiss.
Lips clinging, hands stroking, they made out in the front seat of his truck and steamed the windows.
It was her choice to turn in his lap and straddle him. An excellent choice because it pressed her heated core against him. They both moaned at the contact. A few layers of clothes made the teasing rub only more arousing.
His hands slid under her sweater, and he felt her shiver as he stroked the smooth skin of her back. Of course, he had an ulterior motive in his roaming. It took but a second to unsnap the closure on her bra.
"What are you doing?" She recoiled from him, eyes at half-mast and her lips swollen from his kiss.
"What's it look like I'm doing? Getting to second base." Her breasts, freed for his touch, weighed nicely in his palms. The stroke of his thumbs over the peaks had her sucking in a breath.
How he wanted to lift her shirt and taste. Yet even he knew better than to denude her in public. Someone might see her, and then I'd have to kill them.
Mine. And this lion didn't want to share. Just like the man didn't want to stop.
A rational part of him said he should pause in his seduction for a few minutes and drive them somewhere with a bed, but need drove him at this point, not logic. A need to have this woman. Now.
A desire she shared.
She threw herself forward, hair flying in a dark arc, her hands grabbing his jaw on either side, drawing him close for a searing kiss.
How hotly she burned.
He couldn't help but let one hand leave the tempting swell of her breast and span the indent of her waist. How he loved her voluptuous hour-glass shape, so womanly and desirable. He wanted to explore every inch of her curves, with his fingers, his body, his lips …
For the moment, he had to content himself with what he could reach, given their position. He ran his fingers along the waistband of her yoga pants. Stretchy fabric, perfect for his hand to dip farther. He encountered a naughty panty line, a G-string by the feel of it. So mouse liked sexy underthings. Nice. Very nice. He'd have to remember to remove it with his teeth later. For now, he let his fingers quest under the scrap of lace, moving from the rounded swell of her buttocks around her hip. He wanted to feel her molten core against his fingertips, but their position was too awkward for him to cup her properly.
So he moved her. Manhandled her to suit his needs. He didn't ask or explain, just grabbed her and spun her on his lap until she faced away. She might have protested had he not immediately sent his hand questing down the front of her pants.
He cupped her mound, and she let out a soft sigh of pleasure.
Hot. How hot she burned against his hand, and wet, too, the cream of her arousal moistening his fingers. She enjoyed his touch. He could tell by the way she leaned back against him, head resting on his shoulder, her throat exposed, a long white expanse of temptation.
How he wanted to bite. Lions did so love a good nibble during sex, especially when they wanted to show a claim.
For a moment, rationality swam to the surface, overriding his desire, reminding him that Kira was human. Kira wasn't his mate. Kira was squirming against his hand, which, in turn, meant her luscious, round bottom squirmed against him.
Rational thought sank as need overpowered and drowned it.
Just a little taste. He pressed his lips against the tender column of her throat and sucked at the skin as his fingers pressed against her sex. She let out a small cry, and he felt the reaction in her sex. Moist heat honeyed his digits, rendering them slick, perfect for sliding against her swollen pleasure button.
Her breathing became even shorter, more ragged. She made small noises as she squirmed. He anchored her in place, the torture of her rubbing against his erection from her spot on his lap not as bad as the torture from feeling her cream on his fingers but unable to take a lick.
Since Arik couldn't bury his tongue into her sex, he contented himself by penetrating her with his finger. He inserted one. Two. The walls of her channel clung tight to him, and his shaft grew even harder in reaction. How he longed to bury himself in her welcoming sex. How he wanted to feel the walls of her channel fisting his cock.
For once, he didn't let his selfish desires rule him. In this instance, her pleasure came first. He intended to bring her to climax, and enjoy every moment of it.
As he sucked on the soft skin of her neck, he pumped his fingers in and out. A slow, steady penetration. He savored the tenseness invading her limbs. He groaned at the suction of her sex.
He almost roared when her orgasm hit, the ripple of her pleasure squeezing his fingers and coating them in erotic cream. He barely held back from nipping her neck, instead humming his appreciation against her skin.
As her shudders subsided, and his cock throbbed, anxious for its turn, he withdrew his fingers from her quivering sex and brought them to his mouth for a lick.
Delicious.
And to think, that was just an appetizer to the main course.
He couldn't wait for round two, in a bed.
He placed a dazed Kira in the passenger seat and buckled her in. Pride suffused him at her sated expression. Desire pulsed through him as he imagined what would happen next.
Impatient, he started his truck and tore out of the parking lot, tires squealing in his haste. The quicker he moved, the faster he'd get her naked and have her making sweet, pleasurable sounds again and ease away the crease forming on her brow.
Alas, fate conspired against him. The bitch. She was probably in cahoots with the female members of his pride.
Chapter Ten
Coming back down to reality sucked. While short, the drive was still long enough for Kira to question what the heck she'd done and was planning to do.
She'd let a guy she barely knew bring her to orgasm in his truck in a parking lot. In plain view! What is wrong with me?
And why wasn't she more appalled by her actions?
That had to be the worst part. She didn't harbor an ounce of shame at all, even though she'd acted like a hussy. Despite her turmoil over her actions, when he asked for her address, she gave it. No hesitation, nor did she pull away when he grabbed her left hand and placed it on his muscled thigh. He anchored it there by placing his heavier hand atop it. The intimate contact thrilled her.
Despite her recent climax, her desire for him remained unquenched. Who cared if she barely knew him and he wanted nothing more than hot, pleasurable sex? He offered exactly what she wanted. A good time with no strings or expectations. Given recent events, she could use an evening of mindless fun.
At least she wanted it until he pulled to a stop in front of her uncle's shop. It took only a glance outside her window to change her mind.
It wasn't the large plate glass window with its blue-lettered Fresh From The Brine sign that caught her attention, or the front door of the store with its posted hours and ‘Closed' placard. Instead, her gaze zeroed in on the unassuming little door alongside that she used after hours to get to her place. Personally, she preferred the inside access because the outside stairs were ridiculously steep. But when the shop was closed, she had to resort to the other entrance to her place.