“It really turns me on,” he growled. “It makes my dick so hard I could fuck for hours.”
Suddenly, she was aching. The sensitive folds between her thighs were moist, her clit throbbing, the depths of her vagina aching. She was becoming aroused where she never had before. Nerve endings were clamoring to get closer to him, parts of her body tingling that had never tingled before. Her breasts were becoming swollen, her nipples hard.
“Then get a life,” she gasped. “Find someone else to get your jollies with.” She’d kill him if he did.
“You are mine.” The snap of incisors just in front of her nose had her blinking back at him in surprise. “Allow that bastard to so much as caress your cheek and I’ll slice . . .”
“The meat from his bones?” One of these days she might learn to just keep her mouth shut. “That one’s old, Graeme. You really need to learn some new material.”
Her claws flexed at his shoulders, totally against her best judgment, but his hips shifted again, dragging the material of her jeans across the silk of her panties, which in turn rasped over her swollen clit. And it felt so damned good.
“How’s this for new material? Let’s see what it does for you,” he bit out, but it wasn’t in anger. The stripes were receding as his head lowered, his lips moving to the bare flesh revealed by the thin straps of her cami top.
He didn’t kiss her flesh. He didn’t bite it. He did something in between. Right over the heavy vein throbbing in her neck, his teeth gripped, raked over it just before his tongue lashed at the heated flesh.
“Oh my God. Just kill me now,” she whimpered as lightning-fast trails of exquisite sensation raced from her neck to erogenous zones she hadn’t known she possessed. All of them combining to create one hot ache between her thighs as she felt heated moisture spilling from her body.
This was a major problem. It was a problem of enormous magnitude, because it was a weakness, and Graeme always made use of any weakness he discovered.
“Kill you?” he growled, his lips moving along the column of her neck as she found herself helpless to do anything except tilt her head to the side and allow him access. “Killing you isn’t on the agenda, little cat. Fucking you is.”
Why did her womb clench in such sudden pleasure at the threat that it stole her breath?
There wasn’t a damned thing romantic about his declaration. It was pure lust, pure hunger.
“Not a good idea,” she panted, though her lashes drifted closed and she arched closer, the feel of his lips at her collarbone dragging an unbidden moan from her lips.
“Like hell.” One hand moved to the back of her top and in the next breath it was a piece of torn material drifting to the floor.
He’d ripped her shirt off?
She stared back at him, uncertain if she was outraged or completely turned on.
His gaze dropped to her breasts, the amber color of his eyes darkening at the sight of the swollen curves, even contained as they were in the sensible cotton bra she wore.
“I saw lace and silk in your drawers.” The glare he turned on her had her lips parting in surprise. “Why don’t you wear it?”
“Ever try running or fighting in a lace bra?” she snapped back breathlessly. “It’s not real durable.”
“Wear the lace and I’ll do the fighting for you,” he rasped. “I’ll kill for you to see you in it.”
His hand lifted, a single claw extending before it slid beneath the material between her breasts and sliced it apart, brushing the cups aside to allow him to stare down at the bared flesh.
“Graeme, this is crazy,” she whispered.
“As you said, I’m insane,” he answered absently as he brushed his cheek against the side of one swollen curve. “Why would I pretend sanity at this late date?”
His breath wafted over her nipple, the slight caress of heated air nearly dragging a whimper from her.
“You’ll regret it later,” she assured him. “You know how angry you get when you regret things later.”
She would definitely regret it. She already regretted it. Yet her head was falling back, her back arching and her fingers sliding into his hair to hold him to her as his lips covered the hard point of her nipple.
A cry tore from her when his lips surrounded the tender tip, pulling it into his mouth and suckling at it with firm draws of his mouth. His tongue lashed at it, laved it, licked at it. Sharp teeth gripped the tortured peak. Holding it there, he rubbed his tongue against it then flicked over it. The caresses set it afire with such pleasure she was arching against him, riding the hard ridge of his erection, desperate to ease the throbbing need growing between her thighs.
Dampness spilled from her vagina, coating the folds beyond and dampening the silk covering her sex. Each draw of his mouth, each lash of his tongue or rake of his teeth against her nipple sent such sharp spirals of sensation exploding between her thighs that she found herself helpless against them.