"Erin, Rachel and I will be unavailable for a while," he called out to the sitter.
"Yes, Mr. Wyatt," Erin called back, no hint in her tone that she knew what was going on, though Rachel knew she must.
When he turned back it was to draw her from the office wing to the residence and then through the kitchen, living room and into the bedroom.
And she followed him. She followed him as her heart beat with a primal, desperate rhythm. As hungers she'd always fought began to tear through her mind and body.
She couldn't get that need out of her mind. The need to go wild on him. The need to claim what was hers.
As the bedroom door closed, he turned to her, his nostrils flaring as he stared down at her with something akin to surprise.
She intended to give him much more to be surprised about.
Lifting her hands, she flattened her palms against his chest, parted her lips and drew in a hard breath.
"You look so civilized in silk," she murmured.
Pushing her hands beneath the charcoal jacket, she pushed it slowly back from his body, her lashes drifting lower as she heard the soft rasp of the material as it slid from his shoulders.
That sound sped through her senses, racing through her bloodstream as it fed a fiery heat straight to her nipples, her clit, the clenching muscles of her pussy.
"Civilized?" He continued to watch her, his nostrils flaring as he drew her scent in. "I don't think I've ever heard that word attached to me, Rachel."
She licked her lips, her hands smoothing down his chest once more to grip the edges of his shirt.
"I didn't say you were civilized," she breathed out, her voice rougher, filled with hunger, with a need she didn't want to hold back any longer. "And in a second, you won't look civilized either."
She smiled. Naked. She wanted him naked, wanted him hard and hot and as wild as she was.
CHAPTER 19
This was the woman Jonas had always sensed inside Rachel. The mate who would shake his world up, who would bind his heart and soul and leave him willing to worship at her feet.
He'd once thought his mate would have to be a female Enforcer. And if human, perhaps a woman like the lawyer Jess Warden, or a fighter like Rachel's kamikaze sister. He'd never imagined his mate would come in a short, calmly quiet, coolly efficient little package. A woman who could handle him in ways that he'd never been able to control others.
He felt her fingers tighten in the edges of his shirt, watched her eyes as she tore the buttons from their moorings and nearly snarled at the raging excitement reflected in the darkening green irises.
She was the perfect lady whenever, wherever she had to be. But now, she was a woman prepared to take her mate.
His hands lifted only to be pushed aside.
"Don't touch me," she ordered as she pushed the tattered edges of his shirt from his arms. "Let me undress you."
Hell. He didn't know if he could do that. He didn't know if he could stand calmly, idly by and simply watch his world being reshaped by this woman's hands. Hell no, he wanted to participate.
He would give her what he could though.
He stood still, his fists clenching as her hands ran down his bare chest, her fingertips raking over his flat nipples as that seductive, siren's smile shaped her lips.
A second later, her nails were rasping down his abdomen, sending spikes of incredible heat to tighten his balls and throb through his dick.
"This is a dangerous game you're playing," he breathed out roughly. "You may not be able to handle what you unleash, mate."
She looked at him from beneath her lashes as her fingers worked loose his belt.
"Take your shoes off." The commanding tone had his eyes narrowing, the animal raging inside him, demanding that he force her submission.
He had no intentions of making her surrender. Her surrender wasn't what he wanted. This was the woman he wanted.
He pushed the expensive shoes from his feet as he watched her, felt her fingers loosening the clasp of his slacks.
"I want to take you." She leaned forward, her tongue licking over his chest and causing his teeth to clench in furious arousal.
Then he felt the sharp edge of her teeth at the side of one nipple, sinking into his flesh in an intimate, searing little bite.
His body jerked, pleasure rioting across his nerve endings at the feel of her teeth biting into him, her tongue tasting him. His hands came up to touch her, to grip her shoulders, to pull her to the bed.
"No!" Her hands caught his wrists.
She was so delicate. There was no strength in her hold, but clear purpose stopped him instead.
Staring down at her, he had to force himself not to take her, not to dominate the sexuality rising inside her.
"This is mine," she told him, her brow lifting in challenge as he watched her. "Do you really want to miss it?"
Hell no!
He lowered his arms, watching as her small hands went back to the clasp on his slacks and slowly undid it.
His cock couldn't possibly become harder, thicker. Yet he swore as she began pushing the slacks over his hips it did just that.
He wore no underwear. Breeds were created and raised for years without clothes, and adapting to them wasn't easy. Underwear was something they preferred to do without. Now, he almost wished he wore them.
His cock sprang free, agonizingly hard, thick, the broad, heavy crest flushed and damp.
The silk slacks fell down his thighs, his legs, to pool at his feet as he forced himself to stand in place.
Rachel stepped back then.
"I've had the most incredible fantasy since the first time I laid eyes on you," she whispered in a voice so sultry it raked over his senses like pure sex.
"And what would that fantasy be?" His voice was so rough, so dark, he almost winced. Then it was all he could do not to widen his eyes as her fingers went to the buttons on her shirt.
One by one, slow and easy, those buttons slipped free. She pulled the ends from the skirt she wore. A silk skirt. Jonas liked silk. It ended just about her knees, barely covering her incredible thighs.
He did so love his mate's thighs.
Once the blouse was pulled free, with a little shrug and jerk of her shoulders, it pooled to the floor, leaving her clad in a next-to-nothing bra, which barely covered the full, luscious mounds of her breasts.
Tight, hard nipples poked against the sheer lace covering, tempting his lips, the glands that immediately swelled beneath his tongue and the hungers raging through him.
The animal snarled, causing his lips to draw back, the claws to prick at the tips of his fingers, though they didn't retract.
Her hands moved then, too slowly, to the zipper at the side of the skirt. It rasped down, the sound filling the room. A second later it dropped over her thighs, slid to the floor and stole his breath.
Innocent, white low-cut panties matched the bra. Silk stockings ended at those gorgeous, well-rounded thighs. Pretty, cream-colored stockings, which almost matched the panties and bra. But on her tiny, delicate feet were wickedly high black heels.
Her hand stroked over her smooth stomach. There were only a few tiny, almost-impossible-to-detect marks from her pregnancy. They were marks he wanted to kiss, to stroke with his tongue.
"You didn't tell me what the fantasy was." He cleared his throat.
Jonas stood his ground, wondering now what his delectable little mate would come up with.
She stepped closer, her breasts almost touching his chest as her hands stroked up his thighs, those diabolical nails scraping over his flesh once again before raking along the inner thighs and sending flames wrapping around his balls.
His cock felt tortured now, so hard, so desperate for release he had to clench his teeth against the agony.
"You were on television," she murmured. "So handsome, so very civilized." A single nail raked over the tight sac of his balls, causing his breath to break with the extremity of the pleasure. "When the reporter turned to you
, your tongue almost licked your lips nervously. It peeked out just the slightest, and I swore I nearly had my first orgasm."
Her fingernails rasped over the shaft of his cock. He was going to die of pleasure before he ever had the chance to come.
"I was a teenager." Her breath blew against his chest. "And I wanted to do something I had heard my friends snicker over. I wanted to sit on your face."
Jonas flinched, a growl tore from his chest unbidden. He was reaching for her, ready to lift her and give her exactly what she had fantasized about.
Before he could grip her arms she bent, licked over his cock, froze him in his tracks, then drew the flushed, straining crown into the heated depths of her mouth.
She licked, sucked. Her tongue swirled and tasted and tightened his entire body with the most incredible pleasure that he had ever known.
When he was certain he couldn't hold back, when he felt the release building in his balls, tightening through his body, her mouth was gone.
She straightened. Her eyes were a moss green, dark, vivid. Hunger swirled in them, flushed her features and gave it the sweetest, spiciest scent. The lush moisture of the juices spilling between her thighs had him jealous of the lace covering the delicate folds.
Before she could demand he stop or evade his move, Jonas had her on the bed, on her back. His tongue plunged in her mouth as he felt those nails prick at his shoulders. He shoved his thigh between hers, pressing hard and tight against the wet mound of her pussy as he pumped his tongue in her mouth, feeling her trying to trap it, suckling the mating hormone from it as his lips moved over hers.
She was his. He would allow her to stake her claim, to have her fantasy. But first, he would stoke that wildness inside her, make her burn and make her take what she wanted.
Rachel raked her nails down Jonas's back, heat and lightning whipping through her, striking at erogenous zones, burning in her blood as she fought to hold on to his kiss and the incredible taste she craved.
He was an addiction, but he had been an addiction long before he had instigated the mating heat between them. He had been an addiction before she ever met him in person.
The taste of cinnamon and cloves filled her senses. Fiery pleasure rocked through her body, but she couldn't get that image out of her mind. She couldn't get that need out of her mind.
As the fires inside her burned, rushed through her, rose and engulfed the last of any shyness she might still harbor, she struggled in his arms.
Pushing at his shoulders, riding the hard male thigh thrust between her softer ones, she fought the hold he had on her until he rolled to his back.
She was moving as he lifted her. Her leg swung over his head, her knees digging into the mattress as desperation and hunger overwhelmed her.
As she came over him, he was waiting for her. Hard hands gripped her hips, pulled her to him, his tongue swiping through the thick juices collecting there, and driving her insane with pleasure.
Throwing her head back, a low wail erupted from her lips as his tongue curled around her clit. She was burning. She was diving headlong into ecstasy and the ride was both thrilling and terrifying.
Her hands lifted to her breasts, her head tilting, staring down at him as his hands curled around her thighs and his eerie silver eyes stared back up at her.
Her fingers rubbed over her nipples as she felt his tongue flick at her clit, rub it. The raspy texture of it sent the blood rushing to her head, light-headedness nearly overtaking her as she pinched her nipples, increasing the sensation.
He was watching her. A low, growling groan echoed in the room as he drew the little bud into his mouth and suckled at it, his tongue running around it as she began to twist her hips against him.
"So good," she moaned as she tore at the clasp of the bra between her breasts to release it. "Oh Jonas, it's so good. Your tongue's like fire."
That instrument of flaming pleasure lashed at her clit now, stroking around it, over it, as he sucked at it. The hormone in his tongue, it had to be that fiery essence, seemed to sink into the little knot of flesh, tightening it further, throwing her closer to bliss as she began to ride his face. Her hips rolled, twisted, her thighs bunched with the need tearing through her.
A hard kiss vibrated along the ultra-sensitive flesh as he released it, only to lick, stroke, to ease lower. Rachel was nearly screaming with need now, her hands filled with her breasts, her fingers rubbing, stroking, pinching at her nipples as she fought for orgasm.
A second later, his tongue drove into her pussy.
Her back arched, her muscles clenched on the intruder, sucking it, spasming around it as she began to demand to come.
She wanted it now. She wanted to feel that wild ride of complete rapture as it flung her into ecstasy.
His tongue fucked her with hungry strokes, pressing inside her pussy to lick, to taste, to fill her with such desperate need that she could barely breathe for it.
She was dying for more. The overwhelming shards of longing were driving through her clit, her pussy, tightening in her womb as he licked her with an intimacy and abandon that she could have never known to fantasize about.
"No. Don't stop." She was nearly screaming as his tongue slid from her.
Her hips rolled, pressed down, then she stilled in complete pleasure. Her hands fell from her breasts to the headboard of the bed. Her fingers clenched.
His lips covered her clit again, only this time, the pleasure was near agony. He sucked it inside, began to lick, to stroke, to do that rubbing thing with his tongue as she felt her entire body explode.
She cried his name. Her body jerked taut, her thighs began to shudder, tremors raced through her body and the heated tide of her release rushed from her pussy.
And it wasn't enough. She barely had time to draw another breath once the first hard shudders raked through her. She needed more. She wanted him inside her, filling her.
Uncoordinated, so eager to sate the hunger that only grew from the release, Rachel fell to her side, scrambled up and threw her leg over his hips. She wanted him inside her now. She wanted that hard, fiery length of his cock shafting through the tightening muscles that spasmed in longing for his possession.
She had no more risen over him when he filled his hands with her breasts and lifted his head. His mouth sucked one tight, tortured nipple into his mouth, stilling her movements.
She would take him in a minute, she told herself as her hands braced against his shoulders to hold her weight. Just a second. First. This was so good. His tongue lashed at her nipple now, his teeth raked over it, sending those shards of brutal bliss to strike at the heart of her womb before speeding to her pussy.
She needed him. Her head shook. She wanted him now, but she didn't want this to stop. She wanted him to suck her nipples. She wanted his hot mouth on her and his even hotter cock inside her.
Jonas fought to keep the animalistic instincts inside himself from taking over. He fought to hold on to the human parts of himself, to retain just enough of his senses to hold back, to make this so good for her that she would do it again and again.
And damn if he hadn't almost succeeded. He had managed to hold on to that last thread of sanity. Then she moved, her hips slid lower as he sucked at her nipple, loving the taste of it.
Her pussy, so slick and wet, parted over the tight, engorged head of his dick, and he was lost. Hell, lost nothing, he was a madman, pure fucking animal so eager to thrust inside her that his hips immediately plowed upward, driving several inches inside her with no care or restraint.
And she loved it. He felt her pussy clench around him, heard her muted moan of bliss and felt her nails digging into his shoulders as she held on to him.
Her hips were moving, churning. His mate was no easy lover when the wildness gripped her. She was demanding everything he had to give, working herself on the hard shaft, her pussy milking it, stroking white-hot fingers of complete ecstasy over and down his cock until it struck his balls with destructive sensation.
&n
bsp; He gripped her hips tight, trying to hold her back. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to take her like the animal he knew he was created to be.
But she wasn't having it. The more he fought to hold back, the tighter her pussy sucked at his dick, the hotter it got. She fought to twist against him, to ride him herself as he fought just as hard to control the desperate lunges of his hips.
He wanted to fuck her hard and deep. He wanted to drive his cock inside her and hear her begging for more, screaming for it.
"Fuck me!" She jerked in his arms as she did just that. "Damn you, Jonas, let me go." She tried to slap at his hands, to force his hold from her.
"Rachel. Baby. Not yet," he pushed out between clenched teeth. "Not yet."
He was fighting to breathe, the pleasure was so intense. He could feel the barb trying to emerge, his release building in his balls.
Then her head lowered, and she bit him. Damn her, her teeth sank into his shoulder as a wild, completely abandoned cry of need fell from her lips and stole his determination to take her easy.
His hands fell from her hips. His palms slapped to the bed, fingers clenching in the blankets as his claws emerged and bit into the cloth, and he let her have her way.
He let her steal his heart, his soul, his very being as he threw his head back and roared out his pleasure. Streaks of intense, volatile sensation wracked his spine, his muscles. Pleasure was a white-hot orb surrounding his body, and Rachel was the center of it.
Rachel had never known anything like the hard, shuddering tremors of bliss tearing through her. The feel of Jonas's cock powering inside her, pushing deep and hard, raking across sensitive tissue and delicate nerve endings, was like a fiery vortex surrounding her body.
She was burning alive. Perspiration gathered along her body, slicking her, creating another sensation to add to the others. Lifting her lips from Jonas's shoulder, she stared down at him, seeing the sweat roll down the side of his face, his silver eyes gleaming back at her, his neck straining as he fucked her with complete abandon.
She had him. Right here, right now. This was the man and the animal, and both were completely focused on her and the pleasure crashing through them.
Her back arched as a particularly intense storm of pure sensation throbbed through her pussy, stroked over her clit, over and over again. She couldn't escape it, she didn't want to. Her head fell back on her shoulders as she lifted and lowered herself, mating the hard, driving rhythm of Jonas's body beneath her.
She could feel the storm building inside her. Like heady whorls of pure fire, it began to stroke inside her body, wrapping through it, around her, circling her in ever-tightening bands of erotic agony as she began to cry Jonas's name.
She had to come. She was going to die if she didn't. And if she did, could she survive it? Her muscles began to flex, her womb convulsed, her pussy began to spasm and clench, tightening and stroking his steel-hard cock as he shafted inside her. Harder, faster. It was building. It was tightening. It was burning . . .
She tried to scream. Was she screaming? She felt it explode with a force that bent her backward, the only thing holding her grounded was Jonas as his hands jerked up, cradled her back, held her to him as the storm ruptured inside her.
Shaking, shuddering convulsions of white-hot sensation raked up her spine. It tore across her nerve endings. She wanted to wail his name but she didn't have the breath. She wanted to scream for mercy, but couldn't even whisper for it.
Her nails bit into his arms as he suddenly jerked her forward, her head falling to his shoulder as his teeth bit into her shoulder, locking in, holding her still as the pleasure-pain evoked another, harder eclipse of volcanic sensation that sped through her.
Then she felt it.
His release was white-hot, spurting inside her as she felt a sudden thickening, a swelling, the emergence of the thumb tip-sized barb as it stretched from beneath the head of his cock and locked into a spot so sensitive, so agonizingly tender, and began to burn it with blistering pleasure.
Rachel lost her mind. Not that she had much left at that point, but that sensation, the white-hot vibration, the rubbing, the tiny, firm throbbing against that center of nerve endings tore her mind free.
She was flying. With his arms wrapped tight around her, his tongue licking at the wound to her shoulder, that barb stroking into a bundle of pure raw nerves, and Rachel felt as though she were flying, totally free. Without constraints, straight into the blistering heat of the sun.
She felt as though she became melded to him. She melted into the pores of his flesh, locked inside him, and knew she could never be the same again.
Jonas had to fight for breath. He had no idea pleasure could tear the world out of his grip, that a release could do more than simply bond him to this woman.
For the first time in his life, he felt a freedom so complete, so vast, that he knew his life was changed forever.
He'd fought giving all of himself to her, and in that moment, he realized he had never had a chance against her.
She was sobbing against his shoulder, the pleasure was so intense. She was whispering his name, begging, shudders still racing up her spine as he felt them digging sharpened talons into his balls.
It seemed never-ending. It seemed as though he had shot straight into the soul of the woman gripping him with a fierce hold, refusing to release him. And he didn't want her to release him. He wanted her to hold him inside her forever.
And she would.
This pleasure would ease, their bodies would separate, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never be free of her or the effect of this night.
Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in her hair and fought just to breathe as he felt the sensations gently easing.
Rationality was returning as the barb slowly receded. His cock softened, but only marginally. Held inside her, t