The heavy, incredibly soft fake fur rug spread across the hardwood floor awaited them. He'd had dreams of taking her in front of this fire. Dreams of watching her transform from cool, collected female to the heated, hungry mate he had fantasized about for so long.
She was the perfect mate for him. Strong where he was often weak, understanding of emotions when he had trouble just accepting them. She would keep him warm, keep his heart steady.
He was passing warm now though. As her kiss began to fire the unique Breed mating heat inside him, Jonas felt his cock throbbing in urgent demand.
He was always hard for her, always hungry for her. He swore there hadn't been a day since she had walked into his office that he hadn't been hard for her.
Smoothing his hands down her back, Jonas gripped his mate's hips and pulled her to him, lifting her, finding a ready seat for the brutally hard length of his cock.
"You make me crazy to fuck you," he growled. "There's not a minute of my day that I don't want to be inside you."
His fingers bunched in the short length of the skirt she had worn. She was always dressed so ladylike, so damned buttoned down and proper. The above-the-knee dark skirt was at once conservative and provocative.
He jerked it to her hips, just as it provoked him to do.
The white, long-sleeved black cardigan she wore over the white silk blouse was dropped to the floor. It was all he could do not to rip the blouse from her body.
The sweet swells of her breasts were an enticement; the tight, cherry nipples topping them created a hunger inside him that was both pleasure and pain.
"Leave the shoes on," he ordered, his voice rough as she moved to step from them. "Are you wearing stockings again?"
A siren's smile tipped her honeyed lips. "Would I wear anything else for you, Jonas?"
Something clenched in his gut, some emotion, some overriding sense of rightness.
"So you wear them for me?" Leaving the shirt hanging from her shoulders, her breasts swelling over the cups of her lacy bra, Jonas went to work on his own clothing.
"I wear them for you," she agreed as her fingers moved to help with the buttons of his shirt. "I never wore stockings until I began working for you."
That was no lie. He could smell the truth of her statement. "And this." He rubbed his finger over the soft scalloped lace edge of her bra.
"For you," she breathed out, her breathing growing harder, deeper, as the last button released from his shirt.
Jonas shrugged the material from his shoulders as her fingers went to the closure of his slacks. He could see the hunger heating inside her, smell it burning deeper, brighter, with each passing second.
As his slacks loosened he pushed his shoes from his feet, his fingers still rubbing against the lace of her bra, moving from the scalloped edge to the tight peak of her nipple beneath.
He could feel the heated warmth of her, the throb of blood pounding through her body and echoing in his cock. She was the pinnacle of hunger and need.
The slacks slid down his legs, releasing the torturous length of his cock as his head lowered to her breast, his suddenly sensitive tongue probing at the hard tip.
She stiffened in his arms, her hands going to his shoulders, her fingers gripping tight as he allowed his teeth to rasp the sensitive peak.
"I want to fuck you just like this," he groaned, the need ripping through his balls as he experienced the peaches-and-cream taste of her through the lace.
"Dressed?" Her nails pricked at his shoulders as her voice roughened, a little moan vibrating in it.
"A little dressed." His hand pushed beneath the skirt, gripped the side of her panties and ripped the fragile lace from her hips.
"Buy me panties," she breathed out roughly as the scent of her juices flooding her pussy wafted through his senses with a hint of peaches and heat. Damn, she made him hungry.
He dropped to her knees, his hands holding her hips, the swollen glands beneath his tongue filled with the mating hormone.
Gripping her hip, he touched her with the fingers of his other hand. He parted the glistening, curl-shrouded folds, parted them that tiny bit to see the little bud of her clitoris gleaming within her pink flesh.
The scent of her was addictive.
Kneeling before her, he watched her softly rounded thighs tremble, watched her juices gather thicker along the tiny curls hiding the entrance of her vagina from him.
He would get there. But first, he wanted a taste of her tender clit.
Leaning forward, he flicked the tip with his tongue, felt Rachel's hands grip his head, her nails pricking at his scalp now. Glancing up, he almost grimaced at the flushed, sensual look on her face, the arousal gleaming in her eyes.
He licked around her clit again, felt the flinch of pleasure that rippled through her body, smelled the sweet flush of moisture and felt a purr rumble in his chest.
Fuck, he couldn't stop the sound. She was too good; pleasing her felt too good. He couldn't hold it back. A moan echoed through his ears and her thighs parted farther at the sound.
He let the purr free, let it vibrate, let the sound wash over his tongue and her clit.
"Jonas." She panted his name as her fingers raked over his scalp.
"Shhh, pretty girl," he whispered against her clit as he pressed a firm, sensual kiss on the tiny bud.
"Jonas," she whispered his name again, her tone rife with sensual hunger. "It's so good."
Her legs parted even farther, her thighs opening as he ran his fingers down the slit, parting it, caressing her inner flesh as his tongue licked, stroked the pearly bud.
It swelled with each caress, throbbing in demand as his fingers found the snug, clenched opening to her pussy.
She was tight, silky. A groan rumbled in his throat as the sleek heat of the tender muscles gripped his fingers and they pressed inside.
He knew the grip of that sweet flesh on his dick. It was fist-tight, rippling, flexing. Each tiny spasm of the sleek flesh sent heat driving straight to his balls.
Each small thrust of his fingers into the gripping muscles sent a wave of pure hunger tearing through his senses.
He had the taste of her on his lips, her clit against his tongue, the incredibly tight heat of her pussy gripping his fingers. Fuck, this was good. So damned good.
He sucked fiercely at the little bud, flicked his tongue over it as he let his fingers fuck her with hard demand.
The more he gave her, the wetter she got, the stronger the grip on his hair became, the more her pussy heated, the sweet moisture washing over his fingers, tempting his tongue.
Releasing the tiny bud he'd been suckling, Jonas found himself moving lower, licking, tasting the soft folds as his tongue unerringly found the clenching entrance to her pussy.
It was like burying his tongue in living sensual abandon. Thrusting it deep inside, Jonas moaned at the incredible pleasure, the sweet-spicy taste of her.
He could take her like this forever. He could fill his senses with her and still not have enough. She was addictive. She was lush and sweet and so fucking hot he was going to come before he ever managed to get his dick inside her.
His cock was thick, hard. Throbbing with vicious hunger, the demand that he take her almost painful now.
"So good," she moaned above him, her legs trembling now as sensual weakness rippled through her. "It's so good, Jonas. Oh God. I love your tongue."
He speared his tongue harder inside her, felt the hormone easing from the glands beneath it as the scent of her arousal became deeper, stronger.
Her nails were biting into his scalp now, tremors washing through her. She was close, so very close. He could feel her orgasm building, smell it rushing through her system.
She was becoming immersed in the pleasure, in his touch. Her hips were twisting, pressing her pussy closer.