His rougher, tough skin stroked against her softer flesh as his lips tore from the kiss to slide across her jaw to the vulnerable line of her neck.
“You just shredded my clothes.” He nipped at her neck as though in retaliation but the sharp pleasure had her tilting her head to give him greater access.
“I’m sure I’m so sorry. I’ll do better next time,” she whispered breathlessly, stroking her hands down his back, marveling at the hard muscle flexing beneath his skin.
“Make sure you do.” Lifting his head, he stared down at her, catching her gaze and holding it.
It was as though he was seeing into her.
Did he see the nights she’d searched the desert for him, so hungry for the sight of him that she’d made damned certain he knew where she was? That he found out who she was? Did he see the fear she’d fought to hide as a child, the hunger she’d felt as she became a woman?
“My Cat,” he whispered, brushing his fingers over her cheek before lowering his head to lay his cheek against hers. “Let me hold you, baby, just for now, be my Cat.”
Just for now.
Hunger raged through her, a hunger that went far beyond the sexual into a realm of broken dreams, a broken heart and a scarred soul. But the need to be held by him had followed her through all of it.
The need to be his, in whatever capacity he would allow her to belong to him, had always been a part of her. Whether coded in by him, or matched by nature, did it really matter? Because the need for it far outweighed anything science could have created.
Closing her eyes, Cat gave in to the need, the hunger and the overwhelming emotion she restrained with such force that at times she feared it would strangle her.
She let herself be what she had been born to be.
His Cat.
? CHAPTER 15 ?
She’d dreamed of his touch.
Lying beneath him, Cat wondered if she would ever regain her emotional distance now.
Callused palms stroked along her sides to her hips, the warmth and friction exploding against her sensitive flesh in flash points of pleasure. As she tightened her fingers in the blankets beneath her, the moan trapped in her throat escaped. The whimpering sound surprised her, the aching need it contained shocked her.
Her breath caught when one hand stroked up her side once again, his fingertips caressing, dragging with exquisite heat until they curled around the swollen curve of her breast. His lips smoothed from her neck to her collarbone, a little nip causing her to jerk her hands from the bed to grip his shoulders.
She needed to hold on to him, needed to steady her senses as his thumb brushed over her nipple and his lips moved over the rapidly rising flesh to the hard, aching tip.
“Graeme.” Whispering his name didn’t help her find that center.
His lips surrounded the tight bundle of nerves, his teeth raking over it before he sucked it into his mouth with firm, destructive pressure.
Cat ground her head against the bed, dizziness washing over her as pleasure crashed through her, forked fingers of sizzling sensation striking straight to her womb.
“Graeme.” She cried out his name.
Arching against him, Cat gasped at the pleasure, the heated pressure devastating her control as pleasure raced from her nipple to the aching bundle of nerves between her thighs.
Electric pulses of tiny explosions raced through her body, dragging her deeper into the morass of chaotic needs, physical and emotional? that churned through her. As his mouth drew first on one nipple, then the other, before moving to the other again, Cat fought to drag her senses back under control.
It wasn’t happening.
The pleasure was destructive. It tore down defenses she’d spent years building and replaced them with such burning need she wondered if she’d ever be the same again.
Wondered? No, she knew she would never be the same again.
She’d fought the knowledge that there was a part of her that would always belong to him, but here, in this moment, there was no fighting it. There was no denying it.
“I love the taste of you,” he whispered, his lips smoothing over her nipple before he began spreading blistering kisses lower.
His lips moved over her midriff, smoothing over delicate flesh, trailing lower. Stroking his fingers down her sides once again, over her hips to her thighs, where he spread her legs slowly. He eased his kisses closer to the throbbing bud of her clitoris.
She couldn’t bear it.
Her senses were swirling, caught in a whirlpool of nearing ecstasy that she was certain she would never survive.
“Just let yourself go, Cat, I have you,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath wafting over the tight bud throbbing for his attention. “I have this, baby.”
Trust him to hold her through this? He had this?
“Graeme . . . oh God . . .” Her hands slapped to the bed, claws extending into the blankets as her hips arched in reflex to the astounding pleasure that tore through her.
His tongue licked through the swollen, saturated folds between her thighs. A slow, sensual swipe of raw sensation rushing through her and obliterating any chance of saving her control.