The experiments had begun the month Brandenmore had learned his sister had one of the few incurable cancers that still existed. Remission was possible, but the doctors had warned her family it would never last for long.
He’d accepted an offer the Genetics Council had made him that week and begun his research. For massive amounts of money he was given the Breeds needed, then the few mated couples he had been able to acquire. From there, it had snowballed and a monster had been born.
Then, he had learned he had the same cancer, years before his sister had died. Not the niece, but the brother was to be cursed with that fate. It had been more than Phillip Brandenmore could bear.
“He was selfish,” she whispered. “A monster is born, Creed, they’re not created. He was born a monster.”
Unfortunately, Creed agreed with her.
The pain of realization was a strike of agony slashing at him as it tore through her.
As she lifted her head, his head bent, his lips slanting over hers, the need to replace that agony with pleasure driving him to kiss her with a strength and hunger he hadn’t felt since that first kiss.
Her kiss flamed beneath his lips. Arching against him, she twined her arms around his neck, a low moan of need passing her lips as he picked her up in his arms and bore her back to the bed.
Her gown was removed easily. The soft cotton pants he wore pushed from his hips and down his legs with little thought to care.
Thick and heavy, his cock pressed against her lower stomach, throbbing, demanding the heat he sensed rising between her thighs.
Riding him as hard as the need for that pleasure was the need for her kiss though. Not just because of the mating heat that would intensify, or the pleasure he gained from that as well. It was a comfort mixed with a fiery hunger. It was an intimate dance of lips and tongues stroking against each other, loving, caressing as the taste of cinnamon and need filled both their senses.
Creed let his hands stroke up her back, then down. They feathered over her hips, returned to her spine, the sensitive pads experiencing the silken heat of her flesh as she moved against him, stroking fire over his dick as the warmth of her belly stroked across it.
Soft fingers stroked his neck, his shoulders as the kiss began to heat, to become hungrier, more intimate, more desperate.
Forcing his hands from the soft caresses he was delivering to her back, Creed lifted her gently and placed her in the bed before coming over her, a growl vibrating in his chest as he slid between her thighs, pressing them wide with his knees as his lips covered hers once again.
He wanted so much. He wanted every taste of her, each soft inch of flesh stroked with his tongue.
The need rolling furiously within him wouldn’t allow that time. Later perhaps, he thought as his lips moved down her neck, laying a trail of kisses along the slender column as he moved inexorably to the swollen rise of her breasts.
Tight, hard nipples drew him. The taste of them, a banquet of sweet heat as he rolled one against his tongue before pulling it into his mouth.
Human instincts were urging him to hurry, to bury the hard length of his cock inside her, feel the ecstasy of tight, heated flesh enclosing it, milking it with hungry, convulsive strokes. There was another part though. A deep, primal instinct that demanded he reinforce the life commitment his heart, his very soul, had made to her.
As his lips traveled down her body, his tongue peeked out to lick at sensitive flesh, the hunger to hear her cries of need echoing around him driving him to touch her, to taste her in the most intimate of ways.
His tongue stroked over the silken curls surrounding her swollen clit, his fingers parting the moisture-laden folds as her hips arched to him.
Fucking her was the most pleasure he had ever known in his life, but he was learning, discovering other pleasures, other ways to amplify that pleasure with each touch against her flesh.
As he lowered his head, his tongue slid up the narrow slit, flicking against the snug entrance and teasing her with the promise to stretch that sweet flesh soon.
His cock pulsed with burning hunger at the thought of working inside her, nearly obliterating any other need from his mind.
That guiding instinct remained steadfast instead.
To pleasure her.
To ensure she knew, forever, to the depths of her heart and soul that no other man could ever pleasure her, could ever stroke her or satisfy her or fulfill the emotional needs he felt inside her.
Emotion that had begun as fascination, then as attraction, and was only now easing into a fully developed devotion, a love that could span the decades they could have together.
It was a love he was determined to encourage. A love the animal inside him seemed to understand, to crave, and was determined to encourage.
He would argue with her, push her, challenge her. He would never allow what they had to become boring, stale, or predictable. The animal instincts inside him would always know which way to turn.
The man would always know how to whisper the words; the animal would understand how to ensure them.
As his tongue pressed into the tight center of her flexing pussy, a growl rumbled in his chest at the rain-sweet taste of her. The slide of silken juices and the sound of her rising moans beginning to fill his senses.
This was what he had longed for.
Her hands buried in his hair, fingers clenching in the strands as she fought to hold him in place as the pleasure began to tighten inside her. The slide of her heated moisture caressed his tongue as he fucked it inside her, tasting her, building her pleasure, determined to lock her soul to his as her release exploded.
Seconds before she could melt into that oblivion he came over her, the throbbing, sensitive crest of his cock pressing against her, a growl escaping his lips as his head bent to her shoulder and the man he was lost himself to the animal as it rose inside him.
KITA CRIED OUT in a pleasure so exquisite she swore she couldn’t bear it.
Her lashes drifted open as she felt the head of his cock begging to press inside her as his teeth pressed against the curve of her shoulder, beneath her neck.
She knew what was coming. She hadn’t carried his mark, despite the fact that mating heat had been driving them insane for weeks.
Merinus Tyler and her sister-in-law, Sherra, had told her what to expect when it came, but nothing could have prepared her for it.
His teeth raked over her flesh as he began to work the thickly engorged crest of his erection inside her. Tight, hard thrusts that forged a path of burning flames through her pussy, stretching the tender tissue, exposing nerve endings that screamed into life as the broad head parted them and the thick shaft caressed them.
Aching, desperate sensations began to pulse through her vagina. A deep-seated torturous response that silently demanded more. Always more. Harder, stronger, deeper.
She felt taken, possessed, and still, it wasn’t enough. She needed more.
“Creed,” she gasped his name as she felt the next thrust, powerful and fierce bury the heavy flesh in to the hilt.
Her legs lifted, wrapped around his hips. Her head arched back, grinding into the pillows as her hips lifted, demanding more.
“Yes, Kita,” he groaned. “Press up, baby. Give me that sweet pussy. Every tight inch.”
He was buried until he could go no farther before he pulled back and thrust in again, his hips shifting, plunging as he began to fuck her with hard lunges that sent a cry tearing past her lips.
This was life, and it was living.
The brutal ache building in her vagina had her writhing beneath him, her pussy tightening further, that ache coiling around her clit as she felt her womb tightening, an agony of pleasure beginning to burn, to ignite. The snug walls of her pussy milked the hard flesh thrusting inside her, sucking at him, stroking, drawing him deeper as each thrust became harder, faster, lightning striking over her clit, burying to her womb until it ignited a release that had her screaming his name as rapture began to lance through every nerve ending in her body.