The contradiction between the man himself and the taste of the mating hormone never failed to amaze her. He was one of the darkest, one of the strongest, Breeds she knew. Yet the taste of his mating kiss was sweet with a hint of spice. A taste of summer pears but with a hint of that vast well of sensuality he possessed that he kept hidden from the world.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers spearing into his hair to hold him to her as she arched closer, Diane allowed the emotions she kept such a tight rein on to rush through her senses.
There was no need to fight it now. There was no need to hide from him, no need to worry that vulnerability inherent in those emotions could be used against her. Because Lawe was right there with her. Lost to the hunger that flared through them, lost to the emotions that mating heat wouldn’t allow him to fight.
The feel of his erection beneath his pants, pressing into her lower stomach was a heated reminder of the pleasure to come. His hands, drawing her shirt upward, pulling it from her as he broke the kiss only long enough to dispose of it, was a sensual enticement.
Lowering her hands to push aside the light black jacket he wore, Diane tugged at the sleeveless black shirt, dragging it up his chest and pushing it higher as she tore her lips from his.
“Take it off,” she commanded, panting for breath as the need for him tearing through her, racing like a blaze billowing out of control, left her helpless against him. “Now. Get it off now, Lawe.”
He tore it off.
The broad, golden bronze expanse of his flesh drew her fingers, her flesh aching to touch him, to feel the sensation of the invisible, silken hairs that covered it, caressing her palms with a lush, erotic sensation.
“Get those fucking boots off,” Lawe growled as he pulled her back, then lowered himself to the wide, comfortable chair to the side to pull at his own.
She had hers off first. Then her jeans. Pushing them over her hips and thighs and kicking them to the side before he surged to his feet, his pants just clearing the heavy erection they had covered.
As he pushed them down she was there but not to help him undress. Her fingers curled around the thick stalk of flesh, stroking to the base. Lawe suddenly stilled, his body tightening as he gave a harsh growl.
Diane stared up at him. His expression was tight, his blue eyes like a living flame in his bronze face as he stared down at her, his jaw flexing, tight with the obvious effort to restrain the need to assert his control of the sensual battle.
Holding his cock with the fingers of one hand, the other lifted, the tips of her fingers trailing down his chest, the darkened flesh rippling as the muscles beneath tensed. The hard flesh pulsed in her grip. With each hard throb of blood through the heavy shaft it seemed to widen further as her mouth watered to taste the primal strength she held.
A growl, harsh and grating, escaped his throat as Diane bent, her head lowering, her lips parting to allow her tongue to swipe over the engorged crest, to taste the damp flesh, the salty male taste of his pre-cum before sucking it slowly into her mouth.
With her fingers stroking the thick shaft, Diane tightened her mouth around the head of his cock and sucked at it with slow relish.
Heavy veins throbbed beneath her fingers as he finally managed to shed his pants from his legs. His fingers buried in her hair, clenching in the strands and sending pinpricks of pleasure racing across her scalp as he tugged at her strands. His pleasure in her touch was obvious. Every muscle in his body was strung tight as those in his muscular thighs flexed powerfully, his hips jerking and burying the engorged flesh deeper between her lips.
“You make me weak.” He groaned. “Diane, sweetheart . . .”
He growled again as she tucked her tongue beneath the head and rubbed at the smooth flesh there, feeling the pulse and throb of excitement beneath it.
Sucking at it again, her head back, lowering over it, taking him as he moved in shallow thrusts against her lips, fucking her with a slow, heated rhythm that had the breath tightening in her chest.
She wanted him. Wanted to feel him covering her as he had before, taking her, his teeth at the back of her neck as he held her in place. She wanted to feel him losing himself with her, inside her, pumping inside her, that wicked, pulsating barb sending flares of sensation to erupt through her clit, her pussy, reducing her to a mass of pure pleasure.
She’d never imagined she could gain such pleasure from the act. That without the stimulation of having him touch her body that she could be burning so intensely for him.
She wasn’t blaming it all on mating heat, though she knew it played a part. She blamed it on the man.
It was all Lawe’s fault that the tug of his hands in her hair sent a pulse of sensation to tighten around her clit each time he tightened his fingers. That the rasp of his nails against her scalp had her womb clenching with a surge of pleasure.
She wanted him. With a power she hadn’t known a woman could feel, she wanted him like she had never wanted anything in her life. Like she had never known she could want a man. Or a Breed.
She tried to suck him deeper, take as much of him as she could. To give him as much pleasure as possible before they both lost control.
And the loss of that control was coming.
She could feel it in the way his fingers were kneading her scalp, pulling at her hair. Each swirl of her tongue around the head of his cock had it throbbing harder, seeming to thicken further in her mouth. And each reaction had her feeling the flames burning higher in her own body.
Her juices eased past the swollen folds of her sex, heating and dampening her clit as she tightened her thighs, desperate now for enough friction against the bundle of nerves to spark the release she was aching for.
The need clenched her vagina, the sensations, the building hunger for touch there, for the burning stretch of his penetration, accelerating her need until she was moaning with each shallow thrust of his cock past her lips.
With one hand wrapped around the thick flesh, the other moved between her thighs, stroked across the swollen, wet folds and found the aching bud throbbing between them.
“Enough.”
Before she could stop him Lawe pulled back, forcing her to release his cock as he drew her up, his lips covering hers again.
The kiss wild, his tongue pumping into her mouth before pulling back, his lips slanting over hers as he kissed her with hungry insistence. His hand tightened on her hips, then slid around, down, gripped her buttocks and lifted her to him.
Diane gripped his shoulders with desperate fingers as she tried to lift herself closer, going to her tiptoes, the need to have him inside her burning through her nerve endings. Every cell in her body ached for his touch, to feel his hands stroking over her flesh, his body stroking against her, his cock stroking inside her. The feel of the silken hairs that covered his body rubbing against her. She ached for the strength of his arms around her.
She ached for him. “God, Diane,” he whispered as his lips moved over her shoulder, his teeth raking with sensual intent before he took another heated nip.
Sensation ripped at her nerve endings, pleasure burgeoning inside her belly as she arched against him. Bending her knee she drew it up his thigh as she stood on tiptoe. The slickened folds of her pussy rubbed against the base of his cock, parted and exposed the swollen bud of her clit to the hot shaft.