VISIONS OF HEAT

Her scream reverberated off the stone walls.

When he rubbed the heel of that possessive hand against her, she rubbed back, starving for a sensation she’d never thought would be so exquisite. He liked that, a very male smile curving over those sensual lips. “More,” he demanded. “Give me more.”

She rose on tiptoe and his tormenting hand followed, spearing through her softness to capture her most sensitive flesh in a hold that threatened madness of a new kind. Pressing her thighs together, she dug her nails into his shoulders and tried to reach his lips, but he wouldn’t cooperate. So she bit at his chest, scratched lines down his back.

“Cat,” he said, and it was a pleased statement as he squeezed his fingers and rocked a shudder through her body. “I’m going to take you like I dreamed about.”

Images of her bent over in the most submissive of positions, her bottom shamelessly upturned and her thighs spread in welcome. She didn’t fight the erotic onslaught, luxuriating in the psychic seduction. “You have to—”

Sliding two fingers inside of her without warning, he palmed her breast with his free hand, a rough brand that set fire to her skin. “I have to what?”

“H-have to get me there first,” she challenged, unable to stop her hips from plunging up and down on the hard intrusion of his fingers.

He chuckled and spread those invading fingers just enough to intensify the pleasure. “You should know never to dare a cat.”

“Meow,” she teased, even as she felt her body begin to gather itself for a storm.

“Come for me,” he demanded. “I want to taste your surrender.” His fingers moved in a faster rhythm, stroking her so intimately that she had no defense.

The pleasure swept her under and it was lighting and fury, heat and hunger. But it wasn’t a cascade, the overload shooting down the mating bond to the wild heart of a jaguar more than able to handle the influx of sensation. When she came down from the rush, it was to find herself held against him as he withdrew his fingers from her body. The musky scent of her filled the air, rich, heady, and ultimately female. And though his erection was a hard flame between them, she somehow knew that her surrender had only increased his sensual patience.

Lazy, sated, she didn’t protest as he carried her from the workshop to the bed and stroked her onto her hands and knees. She arched into his touch, enjoying the feel of him running his hands down her back, over her buttocks and down the insides of her thighs. Spreading her for him. When he pushed down between her shoulder blades, she remembered his erotic fantasies and, bending her arms at the elbows, she lowered her head to the sheets and tilted up her bottom.

Her mind was pure lightning by this stage, but she refused to give up. Instead, every time the pleasure threatened to sweep her under, she gripped tight to the mating bond.

“Good girl,” Vaughn murmured, one hand on her buttock. “I think I know what you’re doing. I can feel you holding on to me deep inside.”

That he was pleased wasn’t even a question—she heard it in the indulgent sensuality of his tone. Not really considering the consequences of success, she sent an erotic request down the bond simply to see if she could.

His hand squeezed. “Baby, I can’t see an image, but I think you just read my mind.”

That was the only warning she got before he ravaged her with his mouth, pure demand and rough heat. She screamed at the first touch and orgasmed at the second. Ten minutes later, she was shuddering almost continuously, her body held up by Vaughn’s hands on her hips. The man was relentless. But still she didn’t cascade, her mind soaking up the sensations like a starved thing.

“Hold on.” A dark whisper, a breath of air across exquisitely sensitive flesh.

She whimpered . . . and he used his teeth to capture the engorged flesh of her clitoris. A wave of black crashed into her. The pleasure was so acute, so piercingly sensual that she sobbed as she shattered, clutching at the bond with desperation armored in sheer need.

That was when he took her.

Hot, hard, dominant, nothing that came before could compare to this claiming. She felt branded on a level that went beyond sex and heat, claimed, owned.

Both ways. It was a thought from her mind to his, a feeling that required no words to be understood.

“Oh, yeah, baby. I’m yours.” Hot breaths against her neck as he bent to kiss her pulse before rising up, tightening his grip on her hips, and riding her to ecstasy.

Even then, she didn’t cascade, didn’t go mad . . . didn’t break.