The shock of pleasure clenched his teeth as he stared down at the swollen, silken folds as he began to press inside.
"Styx." Her thighs parted farther as she whispered his name, her voice hoarse, drawing his gaze.
Her face was awash with ecstasy, her green eyes gleaming like living emeralds as she stared back at him.
He felt the snug entrance begin to stretch over the flared crest of his dick. The heated, slick flesh sent sharp shards of dark pleasure racing through him.
"Sweet Storme," he groaned, his voice rougher, more of a growl than before as he grimaced, feeling the ultratight flesh stretching around his cock.
"So good," she moaned, her neck arching, perspiration dampening the fragile column of her neck as her lips parted and her drowsy gaze locked with his. "It's so good, Styx."
It was so good. It was like heaven and hell. The most exquisite ecstasy he had ever known. The pleasure was white hot, brilliant, as close to pain as pleasure could get, as the tight muscles of her pussy gripped and rippled over the flared head of his dick.
A rumbling growl echoed in his chest as he worked the swollen, heavy flesh into the slick recesses of her pussy. The ripple of her inner flesh over the sensitive crest was like electric rapture. The surging sensations raced over his body and sizzled up his spine as he surged those last inches and buried himself to the hilt inside her.
"Ah God!" He couldn't hold back the growl. "Fuck, Sugar. So sweet and fucking hot."
He was in agony the pleasure was so brilliant. Seated fully inside her, he lingered for seconds, a lifetime, feeling the clench of her stretched flesh around his cock, feeling the liquid heat of her arousal.
In the center of the shaft that agonizing throb began to pulse, the Wolf Breed knot flexing as he began to move, to thrust inside her as he worked in and out, stroking the pleasure higher, hotter.
One hand gripped her hip as he set the opposite elbow on the mattress at her shoulder and rose over her. His lips touched hers, the need for breath holding back the kiss they both longed for.
A growl surged from his chest again as he felt her hips elevate, her legs wrap around his hips as she took him impossibly deeper.
God, she was tight. So fucking tight he could feel every ripple of response, every little throb of pulsing need that shuddered through her hot little pussy.
Fucking her was incredible. It was living, breathing ecstasy. It was being surrounded by pure sensation and drowning in the slick heat of each thrust inside the velvety depths of her sex.
Never had he known pleasure so brilliantly hot. It was the most pleasure any man could ever know and survive.
Holding her close, Styx rose farther over her, his lips moving to the bend of her shoulder, close to her neck, instinct and need combining as his tongue licked over the tender flesh there.
The glands beneath his tongue itched with a torturous irritation. His body became sensitive, each cell atuned to each stroke of her hands as they clenched on his back, her little nails digging into his flesh.
Hunger surged with incredible force inside them both. The scent of her need filled his senses as the silken perspiration on her damp flesh stroked against his. His hand clenched on her hip, his teeth gripped the flesh between shoulder blade and neck, and as he felt her explode beneath him, Styx gave in to the need clawing up his back.
As the heated, tight muscles of her pussy clenched further and began to flex, to throb as she cried out below him, Styx moved harder against her, fucking into her with heavy thrusts until he felt the fiery heat of release began to explode in his tortured balls.
The snarling growl that tore from his chest was accompanied by his teeth locking into her shoulder, his hand pressing her hips closer, and Storme's ragged cry and second orgasm exploding around him.
She cried out his name, lifted and shuddered in hard, deep tremors as Styx jerked his head back, locked his teeth together and rode the fierce, desperate waves of a release that tore through him.
The mating knot flexed beneath the shaft of his dick, heated, and as the hard pulses of semen spurted from the tip of his cock, it once again retreated without swelling, without locking him inside her or marking her as his mate.
Collapsing over her, Styx rested his head on the pillow beside hers, his forehead pressing into the cool material as the ache of regret ripped at his soul.
She was his mate. He knew it. She belonged to him, yet something kept her from him, whether her inability to fight past her fear, as he believed, or his lack of trust, as Navarro believed, he didn't know. What he knew was that something had to give. One way or the other, this problem had to be resolved.
He had only six weeks, if he was lucky, to prove she was his mate, or to mark her as such. There was no way to prove the bonding without a full mating. Without it, there would be no way to save her from Jonas's plans unless she gave up the data chip.
He didn't worry about proving shit if the mating happened. Mating didn't happen without love. It didn't happen without the most vital elements of that emotional bonding. If the mating occurred, then there was no doubt in his mind that she would trust him with the secrets she hid and, in turn, trust Jonas with them.
"Styx?" she whispered, her voice sated and drowsy as he brushed his lips over the edge of her shoulder.
"Yes, love?" What more could he give her? What would it take to convince her wary heart to trust him?
"You taste like chocolate," she said with a sigh, a hint of amusement in her voice. "A woman wouldn't have to gain weight to get her fix, all she would have to do is kiss you."
Styx closed his eyes as bitterness threatened to overwhelm him. If only it was something other than chocolate that she tasted. Each Breed had a distinctive "taste" to the mating hormone. A taste their mate craved, a kiss as addictive as it was pleasurable.
"Perhaps you should kiss me often then," he finally whispered as he lifted himself from her, grimacing as his sensitive cock eased from the tight depths of her pussy.
"Perhaps I should." She was soft now, sweet. Satiation filled her body and mind, stole the suspicion from her gaze and left her relaxed and lazy in his arms as he lay beside her and pulled her against his chest.
The wealth of black hair that flowed to the middle of her back spread over her shoulder and his arm. It glistened like a raven's wing, a blue black, silky and lustrous.
He rubbed the silky stuff between his thumb and forefinger, marveling at the softness and thickness of it.
"Everything's very quiet here," she murmured as she continued to lie against him, warm and naked, one leg layed over his. "I didn't think Haven would be so quiet."
"What did ye expect then, lass?" he murmured. "Revelry and orgies?" He laughed at that. The latest stories in the tabloids never failed to amuse him.
"Gunfire. Howls. Maybe screams." There was no fear coming from her, but there was an edge of confusion. The scent of her was distressed, as though a conflict waged inside her. He hoped that conflict involved emotions for him that she couldn't deny.
He could sense the emotions there, but he also sensed the battle against them.
"Gunfire, howls and screams?" He almost laughed, but he held the response back. "Storme, we've shadowed you for years and never attacked. What made you believe there would be such things here?"
She breathed out heavily. "I knew I was being shadowed. I believed it was my father's friends doing it."
Storme knew she should move. She knew she should force herself to get out of the bed, to dress, to put some distance between then. She couldn't make herself do it though. She was comfortable, she was warm. Lying there naked against him, there was a feeling she didn't know or understand. A feeling that held her in place, that kept her against him and refused to allow her to move.