“You smell fucking incredible, Ava. So goddamn sweet. I want to bury my face between your thighs and lap up the cream I know is waiting just for me. And it is just for me. You know it and I know it. No one else has ever made you this hot and no one ever will. Do you know why?”
She shook her head dumbly, lips parted while stinted gasps escaped.
“Because you’re mine.”
She went soft at the declaration, body going lax as all logical thought took a first-class trip out the window. The look in his eyes said it all. He was going to have her. And god help her, she was going to let him. He was right. No one had ever made her feel like this—hot and cold, fire and ice. Each made all the more apparent by the other.
He traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, the roughened skin gently flitting back and forth. “In thirty seconds I’m going to carry you to the bedroom, drape you across the bed and see if you taste as good as you smell. If you want out, now’s the time to say so.”
There were more reasons to say no than yes. He was a relative stranger, a different species, and once they crossed this threshold she was fairly certain there was no going back. If it had been anyone else she would have played it safe, thanked him for dinner and bolted like a scalded cat. Survival meant surveying the situation and working out all the angles before diving in. The dead didn’t live to tell tales, nor did those who contemplated entering into a world that existed under its own code of morals, so completely different from those she had deferred to all her life.
Yet for twenty-seven years she had played by society’s rules, becoming a perfect daughter, an understanding sister, a good employee, an understanding yet unsatisfied lover. Now she was tired of doing the right thing, of being prim and proper, of pretending she didn’t care that she lived alone in a one-bedroom apartment.
“Pinkie?” He didn’t speak her name so much as he growled it, and the animalistic promise of raw pleasure aroused her all the more. “What’s it going to be? Yes or no?”
What was it going to be? Yes to a night she would never forget? Or no to what she desired most, leaving her safe but desolate, all for the sake of self-preservation?
Fortune favors the bold.
Remembering his earlier vow not to touch her unless she begged him to, she arched her back, pressed her breasts into his chest and whispered provocatively, “Yes, please.”
Chapter Six
Two words, two husky little syllables, and Diskant was ready to come inside his leathers like a randy blue-balled virgin. Pinkie wrapped her arms around his neck as he sprinted from the kitchen. Taking the stairs three at a time, he didn’t slow down until he stood in the entrance of his bedroom.
His body was positively humming, electrified by adrenaline. Shifters often said that when they were due a shift they could feel the fur of their beast brushing on the underside of the skin. Right now it felt as if each and every one of his was doing just that. Going toe-to-toe with them wouldn’t do shit—not now. They felt as entitled to the female in his arms as he did. That meant he had to make sure to maintain control. His mate, as sexy and enticing as she was, was human. Until the bloodbonding was initiated she would heal normally, and that meant he had to take it nice and slow.
His cock immediately protested the idea, flexing angrily as his balls drew taut. He bit back the curse that arose, determined to take her slowly, to give her pleasure she would never forget.
Placing her among the pillows against the headboard, he waited until she was comfortable before he went to work removing her clothes. First off were the sneakers and socks. He didn’t think it was possible but his dick got harder at the sight of her neatly pedicured feet, the teeny toenails painted a vibrant cherry red.
Eager hands returned to the task of removing the snug black slacks that had taunted him all night, the thin cotton cradling and presenting the mounds of her ass perfectly. The moment the material slid down her pale thighs he was assailed by the scent of her pussy—musky and rich, clean and fragrant—and groaned when he noted the large stain in the center of her panties. The cat roared in his skull as his canines ached and throbbed, desperate to elongate and sharpen.
Christ!
He was pretty fucking sure his fingers were trembling as he removed the starched and pressed ivory dress shirt button by button. Each one revealed more and more of the radiant skin he remembered only too well, until he was parting the sea and removing the damn thing from her body altogether.
When she tried to return the favor he shook his head and stopped her, wrapping his fingers around her wrists.
“I’ve waited weeks to do this. I want you to keep your hands here,” he lowered her hands to her sides and let go, “and don’t move them.”
She trembled slightly but kept her hands were he placed them, fingers limp atop the comforter.
“Is this your first time?” He felt like an absolute asshole for asking but if it was, he’d have to take things in a totally different direction. A virgin would require softness and a slow introduction to making love. Which would suck in this case, as all he could think about was getting her ass into the air and fucking her hard and fast.
“No.” The corners of her mouth quirked as she restrained a grin. “Is it yours?”
His heart caved and missed a couple of beats.
Holy mother of god, I think I’m in love.
Placing one hand on either side of her body, he dipped his head, and just as he hoped, she rose up to meet him. Much like the first time, the connection as their lips met was immediate. The blood in his veins turned to liquid fire, the tingling under his skin settling into the very marrow of his bones. When she parted her lips, his tongue accepted the invitation to explore and pressed inside. The tip of her tongue met his, mating in a slow, sensuous dance.
Each time he retreated she followed, and each time she followed he captured her tongue in his teeth and sucked. He teased the tip, treating it as he would her clit, flicking his tongue over the nub once, twice, a third time. Her soft moans were swallowed in the instant they escaped, the husky sounds vibrating against his lips.
Breaking away from the heat of her mouth, he lowered his head and breathed in the scent of her skin, starting at the hollow of her throat and moving toward her sternum. When he darted his tongue out to taste that alluring combination of cinnamon and dried sweat, he reveled in the sweet saltiness. Goose bumps were prominent beneath the fingers he brought to her waist and small ripples followed the path of his touch.
Up and down he licked and nipped at her quaking skin, focusing on the delicate lines formed by her collarbones before lavishing affection on the visible arches of her rib cage. Her ragged pants when he bit down gently told him what he already suspected.
While she might be nervous about his nature, she was also excited by it.
A soft whimper echoed in his ears and he felt the tips of her fingers twine loosely in his hair. So much for keeping her hands at her sides, not that he’d expected her to. With all the sexual energy pouring through their bodies there was no way in hell he would be able to keep his hands off her either.
Tugging on the strands, she guided his lips to her breasts and arched her back. He couldn’t suppress a wide, shit-eating grin. So his mate liked the feel of a suckling mouth on her nipples, did she? Well what a fucking coincidence, there was nothing he loved more than extensive breast play.
Extending a claw, he sliced through the center of her bra. The material caught at her shoulders, the straps dangling loosely at her arms. Creamy alabaster globes with dark pink crowns greeted him, the pebbled skin accented by beaded nipples that were hard and erect. He cupped one in each hand, studying her face as he rolled the distended pearls between his thumbs and forefingers. She closed her eyes as her head fell back, sighing softly.