“So you admit it exists?” Why wasn’t she even surprised? Or angry? “So you have to wait until you kiss your mate before you can tell them about it?”
He shook his head. “No, I have to wait to be certain you won’t reveal it to anyone, even friends or family. Because the news stories are partially true. Mating heat has the potential to destroy us, because we don’t completely understand it ourselves. How do you assure others it’s not something they should fear if you can’t explain exactly what it is?”
“So why tell me now?”
He stared back at her, his gaze somber, intense. “Because we both know where it’s going. You’ve known what was coming and you’ve still come to me. You know where it’s going. Why fight it any longer?”
“Why me?” Turning back to him, she asked the question that had plagued her since the moment she realized something wasn’t exactly right with the attraction she felt for him. That it was more intense, more primal.
“If I knew that, then I would have the single secret that could possibly save the Breeds from extinction should the world ever learn of the mating heat, Liza.” His fingers curled around her upper arm as he pulled her closer.
The heat of his body met the chill in hers before it sank to that core of lava-hot arousal simmering and growing inside her.
A hard, involuntary breath pushed her breasts against his chest while he pulled her even closer with a hand at her hip. When she was flush against his body, the length of his erection imprinting itself against her lower stomach sent a wave of furious heat washing through her.
“See?” he murmured as he laid his lips against her temple. “It’s like fire and gas. One touch is all it takes to make the arousal burn brighter, make it torment and ache until nothing helps but another, deeper touch.”
His touch firmed, gripping the silk of her shirt and pulling it from the belted band of her skirt. Pressing his hand beneath the material, the calloused palm stroked up her spine, sending a shiver raging across her flesh as pleasure flared from each point of contact.
“And it doesn’t stop?” Could that be possible? Could the tabloids have that much right? That the Breeds, like some of their animal cousins, mated for life?
“It doesn’t stop.” His breathing was heavier now, his tone rougher, rasping as his head lowered, his lips brushing down her neck, the wet heat of his tongue licking against her flesh.
Tilting her head to the side, Liza all but begged for more. Just that one careless caress against her neck was enough to send a spike of sensation racing through her nerve endings and peaking in her swollen clit and the clenched, saturated depths of her pussy.
Her hips moved involuntarily, rubbing the sensitive nub of her clit against the hard muscle of his thigh as his lips lingered at the base of her neck, his cheek rubbing against the sensitive flesh of her inner shoulder.
Each stroke of the wet heat of his tongue against her skin had her body tightening further. Pleasure and a violent need for more began to amass in her system.
“The night Isabelle met Malachi,” she whispered, the words tearing from her as her fingers moved restlessly over his shoulders, “I watched you in that bar.”
“I could smell your heat,” he growled as his teeth raked across tender nerve endings at the curve between neck and shoulder. “I waited for you, Liza. Until well after the bar had closed, still I lingered, certain you would return.”
Liza felt a rush of regret and hunger as it tore through her. Lifting his head, he met her gaze with his, the blue in his eyes like dark stars on a midnight background.
“I won’t wait any longer.” He gripping the hem of her blouse and yanked it up.
Lifting her arms, Liza forced back a whimper as the erotic intensity began to build, the heat charging nerve endings she hadn’t known her body possessed.
The blouse fluttered to the floor as his hand moved to the small button and zipper at the side of her skirt. Within seconds, it too slid to the floor, leaving her clad only in the lacy white bra, matching lace thong and nude stockings she’d worn beneath along with black, three-inch heels that she’d seen Stygian sneaking glances at earlier.
“God have mercy,” he whispered as though tortured. He stripped his shirt, his gaze never leaving the sight of her.
As he jerked the shirt over his lean, well-muscled stomach, Liza’s hands went to the belt of his jeans, fumbling, shaking as she released it and pushed it aside from the metal tab.
She felt like a schoolgirl. God, how she had longed for this feeling over the years: the excitement and fear, the anticipation and the trepidation caused by the unknown.
As the metal tab and zipper gave way beneath her fingers, Liza breathed out in shock at the heavy width and weight of the erection. Lifting her gaze to Stygian’s face, she slowly shook her head.
“There’s no way.” She had to swallow past the dryness that attacked her mouth, but her lips still twitched in a vein of amusement. “My God, Stygian, that’s simply not going to fit.” And that was not her virginity speaking.
“Oh, I don’t think we’re going to have a problem with the fit,” he assured her. “The problem will be stopping once I get inside you.” His expression was so tight, so intense that once more she felt that punch of reaction to her stomach. A tightening of her womb, the clench of her pussy and heated throb of her clit just before he swung her up into his arms.
“What are you doing?” Surprise had her locking her arms around his neck.
“You’re killing me here,” he growled as he strode to the bedroom. “If I don’t get you to the bedroom, I’m going to end up fucking you on the living room floor.”
Oh God.
She held her breath, forcing herself to hold on to her control.
But God, how she wanted him.
She could feel the inner muscles of her pussy clenching, tightening, a sense of emptiness attacking the sensitive inner core.
She could feel her juices easing along the inner walls to the swollen labia below.
Reaching the bedroom, rather than placing her on the bed, he returned her to her feet next to it, one hand cupping her cheek as his head lowered, his lips taking hers once again.
One hand slid around her hip to the curve of her rear.
She rubbed against his thigh, grinding the swollen bud of her clit against the hard muscle.
It was so good. She wanted to cry with the pleasure of it tearing through her.
The blood thundered through her body, pounding torturously at her clit, her juices gathering along the folds of her pussy, sensitizing it further. Small, mewling little cries left her lips, her arms tightened around his neck, her fingers spearing into his hair.
Suddenly each touch, each hint of a spicy taste that stroked against her tongue was hotter, the sensation amplified and so strong it would have brought her to her knees if Stygian hadn’t had one hand clamped to the curve of her rear to help her ride his thigh.
She had never known a hunger like this.
Hell, she had never known hunger for a man, period, until now.
And it was so much more than she expected.
Moving his hand from her cheek, it smoothed along her neck, her shoulder, between her breasts.
Her bra loosened, the delicate lace cups separating before he pushed one back from her swollen breast. He cupped his palm around the under curve and lifted his lips from hers.
Tipping her head back, she forced her lashes open, staring up at him with dazed pleasure as his thumb raked over a nipple and his lips moved steadily closer to the rigid peak.
“Stygian.” The whimper of his name had him pausing.
It was only a pause. It only lasted long enough to find herself flat on her back across the bed, staring up at him in surprise.