s tongue. She felt it press inside her again, a slow, heated stroke before he licked at the juices easing from her and growled into the caress.
“God, I dreamed of this, prayed for this.” He kissed her clit again, flicked his tongue over the violently sensitive bud as Anya plucked at her nipple and tried to force his lips closer.
She was so close to release. Seconds from it if he would just let her have it. She could feel the pressure building inside her, tightening through her. The need licked over her flesh with nearly the same destructive results as his tongue licking through her sex.
“I need,” she cried out hoarsely, loosening his hair to bring her fingers to her other nipple, to increase the friction and the torturous sensations. “Del-Rey. I need.”
“Anya.” He kissed her thigh, ran his tongue over the flesh there before returning to the liquid center of her body. “Sweet and hot. My Anya. My coya.”
She arched as his lips covered her clit again, this time with the heated pressure she knew would send her flying into the oblivion she had once fought against. Now she raced toward it.
Increasing the pressure on her nipples, she felt her breath catch as he sucked the bud into his mouth and drew on it seductively, as his tongue flickered over, around, heating it, spilling the mating heat on it, and then sending her screaming into orgasm.
She felt her upper body jerk upright. It wasn’t controllable. Her hands flew out, reaching for him, a thin, ragged wail leaving her body as pleasure exploded through her in a rush of sizzling energy.
And he caught her. His hands gripped hers, his gaze caught hers, as his lips held on to her pulsing clit and his tongue wrung every harsh explosion of sensation from her body.
She could hear his growls. She could feel them. She strained into his lips, her head tilting back as the world rushed around her in a dizzying display of color that left her shuddering in the aftermath.
Del-Rey eased her back to the bed, his hands stroking over her waist, her stomach and thighs, easing the violent shudders of her body as he slowly, regretfully released the swollen, throbbing little button of her clit.
He could taste her release on his tongue. Sugar and fire. Earth and air. He licked his lips as he pressed a kiss to her hip, then nipped the sweat-dampened flesh with his teeth.
He couldn’t wait. His head was filled with the taste of her, with the scent of her. It called to him, teased him, tempted him.
Moving over her, he gripped the base of his throbbing cock with one hand. He’d spilled the slick pre-cum to the bed as she exploded beneath him. He was amazed he hadn’t shot every ounce of cum from his body as she screamed his name.
“I’m burning,” she moaned, her head twisting on the sheets as she stared up at him, panting for breath, perspiration dampening her forehead, her hair.
Her eyes were slumberous, brilliant in her flushed face as the mass of red gold curls cascaded around her.
“I’ll ease you,” he promised.
He would ease them both. The hunger was clawing at him now, brilliant red-hot sparks of need exploding up his spine, traveling to his tortured balls as he pressed her legs farther apart and moved to her.
He prayed for control. His erection was thicker than she would have known with a human lover. Coyote and Wolf males were cursed not just with the knot that would lock them inside their mates, but also with a heavier, thicker shaft. As though they wouldn’t frighten their mates enough to begin with.
“Anya. Look at me, baby. Look at me.”
Her eyes opened again, brilliant, dark within her heat-flushed face.
“We’ll go easy, I swear it,” he groaned, allowing the head of his cock to press against the tender opening.
His teeth locked together as the first pulse of heated fluid erupted from the tip. Rich with the mating hormone, it pulsed inside her even as he fought to hold it back.
“Oh God, that feels so good.” She arched closer, pressing him deeper. “Like it’s burning me, easing me, making me crazy for you.” Her gaze sharpened. “I don’t like crazy, Del-Rey. I like control. You know I like control.”
He did. He knew this.
He cupped her cheek with one hand, feeling his chest clench in agony. “I know, little love. You want control.”
There was no control here, for either of them. But he remembered that now. He should have remembered eight months ago. His Anya was always composed. Even with that brilliant red gold hair and the fiery temper that could light her eyes, she had always maintained control. And there was no control amid the mating heat.
Her breath hitched as another pulse of fluid filled her and a sound, nearly a sob, escaped her throat at the feel of it.
She shuddered beneath him as her hands gripped his biceps, her nails digging into his flesh as he eased farther inside her, his teeth gritting at the too tight grip of her silken flesh.
“Oh. Oh, Del-Rey.” She lifted to him, her lashes lowering as he pressed deeper and a growl tore from his throat.
He felt every ripple, every convulsive tightening of her pussy around the crown of his cock. It was like sinking into pure ecstasy the pleasure was so violent.
The pulsing pre-cum came faster now; each spurt was another thread broken on the thin expanse of his control. His patience was wearing; the need to drive into her was eroding his every sense.
“Anya.” He laid his head against her shoulder, continuing to work himself inside her, his teeth clenching into the sheets rather than her tender shoulder as his instincts demanded.
Slow and easy. He repeated the refrain inside his head. Control. Patience. No taking. He couldn’t take this time.
He jerked, his head lifting as a snarl of furious hunger exploded inside him. His hips jerked, driving his cock inside her deeper.
It was rapture. It was incredible. It was pleasure that tortured his dreams and his waking hours with the same driving force. The memory of this. Of Anya, slick and tight, clenched around him like a milking fist.
“Yes. Oh yes.” Her hips jerked to him. “More. More now.”
His head lifted as he fought to breathe, staring into her enraptured expression as her nails bit into his arms. Her neck arched, her hips rolled beneath him, working him in nearly to the base of his cock.
He couldn’t maintain this, he knew he couldn’t.
“Look at me, Anya,” he snarled. “Open your eyes.”
If she didn’t open her eyes, he would never hold on to the control he needed. He had to see her. He had to remind himself he was a man, not an animal. He was loving his coya, his other half. His woman.
He had sworn if he ever had the chance to touch her again, he would hold on to his control. He would show her the pleasure, not the fear.
“Look at me, Anya,” he growled again. “See me, damn you. Hold on to me, and there will be no fear. I swear. No more fear.”
CHAPTER 15
Anya’s eyes opened, dazed, almost unseeing as she tried to focus on Del-Rey.
She was lost in the sensations whipping through her now. The feel of him, huge, hard, sinking into her as the heavy pulses of pre-cum continued to spurt inside her.
It would, until he was fully seated, she knew. And then the pleasure would only burn brighter. This was the part that had begun the nightmare the first time. This raging need, the way she clenched around the thick length of his cock, her hips moving frantically, desperate for more.
But this time, he was facing her. When he had taken her before, he had turned her to her stomach and lifted her hips, giving her nothing to hold on to. She’d had no sense of warmth, no sense of the man taking her as she did now.
“Anya.” His breathing was ragged, his broad chest moving with rough breaths as sweat eased down the side of his face. “I can’t—”
He shook his head, his eyes clenching before they opened once more and focused on hers.
His jaw clenched as his hips jerked, driving that last inch of his heavy erection in to the hilt. Anya felt her breath ease from her body for preci
ous seconds. She was filled, overfilled. She was burning and so desperate for more that she wondered if she would survive it this time.
Swallowing tightly, she fought to stare into his eyes. As black as midnight with the faintest hint of blue. As though the color hid within the darkness, a shadow of light to hold her to him.
“Ah hell.” One hand clenched her hip, the over buried in her hair as he braced his elbow at her shoulder. “I can’t.” He swallowed tightly. “I can’t hold back, baby.”
“Don’t hold back,” she panted. “Just hold on to me.” Her voice broke. “Hold on to me, Del-Rey. Don’t let me get lost.”
His eyes seemed to widen then his expression twisted as lust transformed his features and he began to move. Each heavy thrust pierced her deeper than just the clenching depths of her vagina. Sensation tore through her with excruciating pleasure/ pain. It stroked along once hidden nerve endings, reached to the depths of her and burned into her soul.
She held on to Del-Rey. She stared up at him, and felt the spinning whirlwind whipping inside her latch onto her. Hunger. An agony of need so deep, so desperate she couldn’t fight it any longer. Her hips lifted and her legs wrapped around his hips as she met each thrust, each stroke with a broken cry.
She was filled with midnight colors as she stared into his eyes and held on to him. Thick, dark blond lashes, so thick she would be jealous later. She felt the muscles of his biceps beneath her fingers as she dug into them, clenching at him as he drove into her, his hips thrusting heavily now, harder, faster as she felt the ever narrowing spirals of pleasure whipping through her.
“Yes.” His voice was part animal, part man. “Fuck me, Anya. Take me, baby. All of me. Take all of me.”
She knew what was coming. She felt her own orgasm building inside her, and she knew what it would do to her, what it would do to him.
In those years that her heart had settled on this Breed, she had never expected this. Scientists and techs used Breeds as sex toys, often having their favorites, calling them their pets, and this had never happened then. There were no animalistic results to those sexual adventures.
But Anya knew there would be now. She knew where the whirlwind would throw them, and she fought to hold back. Not yet. She didn’t want it to happen yet. She didn’t want the fear, she didn’t want that total loss of self that came with it.
“I have you.” His voice brushed over her senses. “Hold on to me, Anya. I have you. Always.”
He drove inside her, fast, furious, shafting inside her with a power and a pleasure that took that control, took that last edge of strength and tore it from her grasp.
She heard her own screams of release. Breathless, pleading, an agony of pleasure ripping through her as she felt the first convulsive eruption tear over her senses.
Then, she felt his release. She felt the swelling, the burning stretch of muscle and tissue, the violent throb of heavy veins pounding into nerve endings that screamed from the additional intensity. She heard his shout, then a sound that was part snarl, part howl as his head lowered and his teeth pierced her shoulder.
It wasn’t pain. It was too intense to be pleasure.
Anya was locked in a world of sensation so brutal she screamed out his name as she felt the first furious blast of semen erupting into her already too sensitive sex, and the additional width, locking him into the clenching muscles of her pussy, set off a harder, stronger eruption that seemed to center in her womb.
She was coming hard, each detonation jerking her muscles, tightening them until she cried out in fear and in wonder. Because she wasn’t lost. She could feel Del-Rey, his growls at her shoulder, his shoulders beneath her clawing nails, his thighs powerful and flexing as her legs wrapped around them.
She wasn’t lost without him, she was lost within him, holding tight as flames raged over her, pleasure tore through her, and for the first time in eight months a sense of completion overcame her.
How long it lasted, she didn’t know. They shuddered together, jerking and moaning, each pulse of his release triggering another smaller explosion inside her as the mating knot throbbed hard against sensitive nerve endings and sent another current of electrical pleasure sizzling through her.
She was aware of his teeth buried in her flesh, but this time, there was no pain. There was the feel of his tongue touching the wound as he gently extracted the curved canines and licked over the mark with sensual enjoyment. The feel of his hands, one buried in her hair, one holding her hip with what she was certain was bruising force.
Then the knot pulsed again and she shuddered, a weak cry leaving her lips as another detonation of release gripped her, spasmed through her.
It was too much pleasure. Too much sensation. She was crying. She could feel the tears falling from her eyes even as she buried her face in his shoulder and bit him back.
She would be shocked later, she promised herself as she felt her teeth clench the hard muscle of his shoulder. Later, she would debate the wisdom of the action. For now, she heard his shocked exclamation, felt his hips jerk against her, the swelling inside her throb and semen pulse. Anya moaned low and ragged as the taste of male flesh filled her mouth and Del-Rey seemed to fill her very soul.
Nothing should be this good, this torrential, this overwhelming. No pleasure this intense and all-consuming could survive. But if it didn’t, then Anya feared that this time, if she lost it, she could not hold on to her own sanity.
Del-Rey held on to her. It was all she had asked of him. To hold on to her, not to let her go. He held her against his chest until the swelling eased and he was able to withdraw from her. A grimace of surging pleasure twisted his expression at the feel of her still-snug grip against the overly sensitive flesh of his cock. Another small ripple of sensation fluttered through her muscles before she relaxed against him again, curling against his chest as he collapsed beside her and wrapped his arms around her.
This was what he had craved all those months ago.
“Are you okay?” He tried to keep his voice low, keep the growl out of it. There was no way to hold back the satisfaction that filled him though.
For the first time in eight months he wasn’t tortured with the need. He was semi-aroused, but that desperate throb of agony was no longer present.
“Hmm,” she mumbled against his chest.
He almost grinned at the grumpy, slumberous little sound.
“That’s not an answer, Mate,” he told her, keeping his voice low as amusement threaded through it. “Should I warn Wolfe that we need to call another tribunal?” A second later a sharp pinch to his waist had him chuckling.
“Go to sleep,” she ordered, but her voice was sex soft and filled with sleepy satisfaction. “While you’ve been lazing the last two days away, I’ve been working. I’m tired.”
He grinned again, remembering the security recordings Brim had shown him before he literally passed out.
“While the alpha’s sleeping the coya’s playing?” he asked her.
“Being your coya is damned hard work.” She stretched as she spoke, a sinuous, almost feline movement of grace that had him pushing back the thought that perhaps he could fuck her again. Maybe this time slower, easier.
Tucking the sheet over her breasts she sat up and stared down at him, her hair touseled around her face, her gaze drowsy and filled with satiation.
“Coyotes aren’t like Wolves,” she told him as she bent her knees and rested her chin on them.
“Yeah, their work ethic sucks sometimes,” he admitted. “We’re turning hardened killers into techs and security personnel. Just because they have the knowledge to do it doesn’t mean they have the temperament for it.”
He’d acknowledged that even before they had approached the Wolves for an alliance. His plans were vast in comparison to the roadblocks he faced.
Then his mate shook her head. “That’s not their problem at all.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Their work ethic is every bit as dedicated as the Wolves or the Felines. They just lik
e to pretend otherwise. They’re working to create something and that means a lot to them. But they’re more solitary. Working within a team is their problem.”
Del-Rey propped his head on his hand as he lay on his side watching her.
“We weren’t trained to work together,” he told her. “We have more Coyotes coming in soon, pack leaders who have no problems stepping back in command, though their packs number less than the ten to twelve ours do. Mostly two-man teams. Stragglers who are deserting the Council as quickly as they can. We’ll have another dozen or more soon to add to the dozen coming in from the Middle East via the Bureau. Integrating them will be harder.”
He watched as she frowned at the information.
“Are you returning to mission status now?” she asked him.
Del-Rey watched her carefully. “I’m not going back, Anya. I’m needed here.”
“You say that as though someone disagrees.”
He sighed at that. “The order of separation disagrees,” he told her. “Until you inform the tribunal that you are accepting the mating and your status of coya, then I’m bound by my word, Anya.” He reached up and played with the ends of her fiery hair. “Are you accepting your place now, or merely feeling your way?”
“You’d allow that?” She tipped her head to the side. “Time for me to feel my way?”
Him and his big mouth.
Del-Rey stared back at her and sighed heavily. “I’d give you whatever time you needed.” He shrugged. “Would I have a choice? I don’t want to force you into my bed or into your place here. I want nothing from you that isn’t freely given.”
She nodded slowly. “We have things to resolve,” she said then. “With both of us. I notified those on the tribunal that the separation order is null and void, no matter your decision in the mating.”
Satisfaction surged inside him.
“I think you know my decision on it,” he told her somberly. “You’re my mate, my coya. I haven’t changed my mind about that. Nothing can change that for me.”
She nodded again, though clearly there was more on her mind and Del-Rey hesitated to push her. Here, he felt on very unfamiliar ground. He would have once said he knew this woman and each move she would make. She had shown him differently from the moment he had taken her from Russia.
She was stronger than he had ever imagined and definitely more stubborn. More her own woman than she would ever be any man’s lover or mate perhaps.
“We need to return to Haven,” he finally said into the silence. “You at least need to take the hormonal supplements that will allow you a measure of freedom from the more extreme symptoms of the heat. I don’t want you suffering.”
She shook her head. “This is my choice.” She turned to him again. “You suffered it.”
“It’s not as hard on the male, baby,” he sighed. “It’s endurable. For the females, it’s not as easy.”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “So, I get horny. I’ll just drag you from whatever you’re doing and you can do your mating duty before anything else.”
“Really?” His brow lifted. “And should I get horny?”
An impish grin crossed her lips. “It’s not as hard for the males, remember?”
What the hell was that sudden tighteness in his chest, that emotion that gripped his throat and had him staring at her with a need to never have her out of his sight? To always see her eyes sparkling with mirth, that pursed little grin on her face?
She was, quite simply, adorable. And she was his coya. Not just his mate. Not just his woman. She was the other half of who and what he was as alpha of his packs.
She sighed then. “I believe, based on information I’ve gotten over the months, I have several hours before that luscious body of yours is going to be put to work again.” She bounced from the bed before he could reach out and stop her. “I have to shower and get dressed. We have a meeting at Haven as soon as you’re ready and an interrogation to watch. Wolfe agreed to hold the questioning of the bartender until you could be present.” Her expression tightened as she turned back to him, brazenly naked, breasts firm and tipped with hard nipples, fiery curls gleaming between her thighs. “He meant to kill me. Why target you like that?”
Del-Rey’s brow lifted as he rose from the bed, though fury clenched his gut. “That shotgun wasn’t on me, sweetheart, it was on you.”
“But all killing me would accomplish is whatever my death would mean to you,” she pointed out. “Very few outside Haven know about the separation agreement. To the world, according to the tabloids several months ago anyway, we’re the latest great Breed love match. The kidnapped Russian admin and the Coyote alpha. The stories were very romantic.”
“Really?” He frowned back at her. He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t read the damned tabloids. “How romantic?”
She gathered up her clothing as she shot him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. One of those feminine looks that he’d often wondered about when he saw other men getting them. Normally when said male had done something that displeased said female.
“Excessively romantic,” she snorted as she checked her link. “Ashley has some information I was waiting on as well; she’s waiting for me.”
She dumped the clothes in a hamper. Only then did he see the dusty state of her clothing.
“How did that happen?” he asked as she disconnected the link she had put through to her bodyguard to request clean clothes.
“Spelunking.” She moved from the bedroom into the adjoining shower room.
Del-Rey frowned as he followed her. “Cave exploring? What caves? We’ve explored them all.”
She rolled her eyes as she turned the shower on and adjusted the water. “Of course you have. You’re just not using them all. You have more Breeds coming in, remember? Where are you going to put them? Will they have beds? Blankets? Towels?”
He leaned against the entrance and watched her, loving the graceful movements of her body, the way she tipped her head back, washing her hair, and still watched him.
“They would have found what they need.” He frowned at the thought. “You’re trying to cuddle the whole damned place, Anya. There’s not enough of you to go around.”
She laughed at that. “I don’t have time to cuddle. But I do have time to arrange reasonable rooms for them. It will engender loyalty, Del-Rey, and a sense of thankfulness. There’s nothing like a hot meal and a soft bed to remind a man of what he’s fighting for.”
He didn’t like her seeming knowledge of men in general. She should only be aware of his needs, he thought with a hint of piqued pride. Dammit, she hadn’t been cuddling him or taking care of his manly needs in the past eight months. Why worry about others? He was opening his lips to ask just that question.
“Hope and Faith have been forcing me along on their forays into managing Haven,” she said then. “I know what I’m doing here.”