Their legs were tangled together, his erection, fierce and engorged to the point of agony, throbbed with brutal insistence where it lay, pressed between her thighs, surrounded by the slick, creamy essence of her arousal.
She was wet, and her wet heat slicked his dick and reminded him of how much hotter it was deep inside her body.
What the hell was she doing here? He was wrapped around her like a vine, holding her to him, tucked against him, and he had managed to sleep through this for how long?
She moved against him then, her hips shifting as she rode the thick length of his cock against her clit.
Damn. Damn.
He felt his hand clench her hip, then relax. Did he want her to stop or to continue? Would she find her pleasure in her sleep as he watched?
His hand smoothed over her hip and down the curve of her ass to her thigh.
“Anya.” He swallowed tightly as he felt her move against him again.
He barely remembered awakening several times, moving to the bathroom or forcing himself to eat before collapsing again. He didn’t remember her being here at those times. He remembered the chill in his bones and the need for sleep or for water or food. He would have surely known if she had been in his bed.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. Forty-eight hours since he had first returned to Base and collapsed in the bed.
His teeth snapped together as she moved again, spreading her slick, hot cream along the painfully engorged shaft it cuddled. Damn her. Damn the heat. Damn his weakness.
Her thigh lifted along his, the side of her knee rubbing at his hip as she opened herself farther to him and rubbed her swollen, hard-tipped breasts against his chest.
Hell. He was supposed to control his lust in the face of this temptation and the mating heat combined? Was he supposed to be fucking made of steel?
Well, except his cock. It felt hard as steel and as hot as newly formed iron.
“Anya, wake up,” he groaned, hearing the growl in his voice.
She rubbed against him again, her hips tilting until the swollen bud of her clit was in direct contact and the fiery heat of it threatened to blister him.
Sweet merciful heaven. He held her hip, but was he smart enough to ease her back? Hell no, he was moving her, encouraging her to ride him, to stroke the brutal length of his dick as she gave herself pleasure.
“Wake up.” He lowered his head and nipped at her lip. “Damn you, do you expect me to be strong enough to simply walk away?”
Her tongue peeked out, swiped over the area he had nipped, as her lashes lifted and sleepy, aroused sapphire gems stared back at him.
“Watch the teeth,” she muttered as her lashes lowered and an expression of sublime pleasure filled her face.
Her hips rolled again as a little moan broke past her lips and the silky flesh of that perfect little pussy rode his dick again.
“Anya. Move,” he growled.
And oh how she moved. With a slow, wicked roll of her hips that had the head of his cock pushing against her entrance before it slid in her creamy juices and only glanced it.
This was torture. It was agony. No hell he had endured could come close to the hell of being this close and knowing he couldn’t take what awaited just within reach.
He was sweating. Del-Rey could feel the sweat building on his flesh, but he was too dick-dumb to pull away from her. If she wanted to ride him to her own release, then slip back into sleep, God knew, he’d try to give it to her. But he knew he didn’t have the control to sustain that patience in the face of a hunger that ate into him like acid. It cramped his balls, his abdomen. He swore it was setting fire to his brain as he felt the hormone attributed to mating rushing through his system.
The glands beneath his tongue were torturously swollen; the need to release the hormone into her system was damned near killing him.
“Del-Rey.” Her lashes lifted again. Gem-bright, her eyes stared back at him. “If you tease me one more time, I might have to kill you.”
“Tease you?” he groaned.
“You’ve teased me for two days.” She shifted again, rode his cock and then paused as she had the engorged head lined up against the entrance to the sweetness beyond.
“How have I teased you?” he muttered.
“Your lips all over me, but never enough. Then you tuck your cock between my legs and just sleep. That’s torture, Del-Rey. The worst kind. I bet its punishable or something. Should I take your allowance?”
He’d done this? In his sleep, without taking her?
Del-Rey shook his head.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. “I’m late for those damned hormonal therapy shots. It’s killing me.”
“No.” He couldn’t do this. “You should have called Armani. She would have come here.”
“Lockdown.” She stretched against him. “Snipers in the woods and all kinds of stuff.”
“You should have told Brim,” he snarled. “He would have gotten you there in the heli-jet. Damn you!”
He didn’t want to take her like this again. Not in the full fury of mating heat, where the scent of her was like a drug itself, whipping control from his mind.
“Brim offered.” She nipped his chin, then licked it as he tried to find sanity. “I want you the way nature meant for you to take me, Del-Rey. This is the way it’s supposed to be.”
Ah fuck. He was going to die. Her hips moved, the tip of his cock invaded the snug confines of her pussy, and he felt flames shoot up his spine.
Not like this. He wanted to kiss her, taste her. He wanted so much more for her than just the mating.
“Do you know,” she whispered roughly, “when you rub against me like that and you fill me with your pre-cum, you make me burn? Even before I felt the mating heat coming back, I felt that.
You were tucked against me, and I was so wet, so wicked, I let you do it. And I felt that. And all I wanted was you inside me.”
He knew what Wolf and Coyote pre-cum did to their mates. Armani had explained it in humiliating detail. The silky fluid was filled with the hormone that induced heat as well as one that relaxed the tight flesh that would surround his cock. It would raise the female mate’s arousal, make her more sensitive, make the pleasure sharper as it prepared her body for his final release and the tight secondary swelling halfway up the shaft as his cum tore from him. It would lock him inside her, make it impossible to pull free as his seed shot into the heated depths of her pussy. And it would hold him there—the last time, he had been locked inside her for over half an hour, feeling her climaxes as though they were his own, as she begged him to make it stop.
That memory gave him the strength. God, he never wanted that shame again. To stare into her tear-drenched eyes as she begged him, pleaded with him to make it stop and he could do nothing to stop it.
“Enough.” He jerked back, pushing her away before swinging around and shoving his feet to the floor. “I’ll call Armani and tell her.”
He froze. A sense of vertigo rushed over him as he felt her at his back, hot nipples stabbing into him as her teeth raked his neck. “Call Armani, and I’ll take my injection like a good little coya and return to that dead little world where my dreams torment me, and my emotions overshadow the truth?”
“Honest arousal,” he snarled. “Give me that. I’ll take it. But not like this, where you have no control over your need.”
He couldn’t fucking breathe. The scent of her pussy was washing through his senses like a tidal wave, like an eruption of white-hot heat piercing his brain.
“I don’t want something else controlling me either,” she whispered. “I want all of you, Del-Rey.
Don’t you want all of me? Mating heat and all?”
“What do you want in your bed then, the animal?” he sneered.