SLAVE TO SENSATION

Time was rushing out from between her desperately cupped hands—she didn’t want to pretend not to adore him tonight. Quite simply, he was everything she’d ever dreamed of and never dared to touch.

In the soft darkness he was all masculine prowl as he got into bed beside her, lying atop the blankets while she lay below, barely dressed in an old T-shirt that Tamsyn had found. She’d given it to Sascha with an odd comment: “No other scent will pacify him.”

He put one arm over her body. “I want to be naked under those sheets with you.”

She felt herself blush and gloried in finally being able to just “be.” Death was certain. She might as well enjoy the life she had left. “Is that how you usually woo prospective lovers?” She was teasing; this felt right, as if she’d been loving him forever.

He nuzzled at her neck, one hand moving up the sheet to clasp hers as it lay open beside her head. “Only women who already know my body inside out, who know my every desire, my every pleasure point. Only you.”

Her heart threatened to stop beating. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve loved me in my dreams, kitten. What about in reality?” He raised his head and those cat eyes glowed eerily.

For an instant, she was completely fascinated. “Do your eyes always do that in the dark?”

“No.” Leaning down, he nipped at her lower lip, startling her . . . pleasuring her. “I just don’t want to miss even an inch of your body.” He tugged at the blanket.

She pulled it back up. “I’m not responsible for your dreams.”

He spoke against her lips. “Do you know my favorite part?” Not waiting for her response, he said, “It was where you tasted me. I’ve never orgasmed so hard in my life. I was mad as hell to wake up and find myself alone.”

Sascha couldn’t breathe. It was suddenly far too hot. Pushing at the confining blanket, she shoved it down, helped along by Lucas. Too late she realized that her legs were now bare to her upper thighs. It didn’t matter. Only the dreams mattered.

“How could you have seen my dreams?” she whispered. They’d been her most secret, most precious treasure. In those dreams she’d been who she might’ve been had she not lived the life of a Psy.

“You invited me in.” He sat up above her with his knees on either side of her thighs. As she watched, dry-mouthed, he raised his black T-shirt over his head and threw it to the floor. “Do you know what I like?”

Without stopping to think, she scraped her nails down the hot steel of his abdomen. Hard. He purred and she froze. “I don’t know how I did it—it wasn’t intentional.” She’d never have had the courage to taste him if she’d thought him real.

“You’re a cardinal Psy.” When she didn’t continue to pet him, he raised her fingers and nibbled at them in playful warning. Her stomach filled with a thousand butterflies. Tugging her hand away, she tried to sit up. He wouldn’t let her. “No, kitten. I like you like that.” He braced himself on his palms beside her and sniffed at her neck like some great hunting beast.

Which was exactly what he was.

Then he did something utterly unexpected and mindblowingly sensual. Giving her no warning, he moved his head and bit her nipple gently through the T-shirt. Her back arched. A scream threatened to rip from her throat. Instead of letting go, he sucked hard, making her mindless with lust. By the time he released her, his knees were on the inside of her thighs and he was slowly spreading her open.

“You smell of me,” he growled against her throat, giving her a quick lick. “All over, you smell of me.”

She moaned. “Wh-what?”

He pushed himself up above her and used the fingers of one hand to tug at the nipple he hadn’t sucked. She had to fight herself not to reach out and pull down the zipper of his jeans, knowing precisely what he’d feel like in her palms. Hot, hard, silky smooth, and perfect.





CHAPTER 18





“This T-shirt is mine.” He let go of her nipple and sat up again so he could run the palms of both hands along her torso to close over her breasts.

Her entire body was a heartbeat pounding in time to the pulse between her legs. “Why did Tamsyn give it to me?”

“Because you smell of me anyway.” With another gentle squeeze, he released her breasts and ran his hands down to the edge of the T-shirt, pushing it up. “Even the damn wolves could smell me on you.”

She knew she should protest the way he was acting but this was what she’d dreamed about, fantasized about. The only question was, was she going to survive the inferno she’d unleashed? A big male hand cupped her so boldly that she felt lights explode behind her eyes. He was rubbing at her with the heel of his palm, arousing her to fever pitch through the cotton of her panties.

“Where’s the lace?” He paused in his caress.

“D-don’t stop.” It was a husky plea. Her reward was the renewal of his sensual movements.