Her skin was hot. Too hot. The skirt had ridden up to her thighs. He tugged up the back so her bare bottom rested on him, only the thin material of his trousers separating them. He scraped his teeth over her neck and she shivered.
“We’re going to have to go, Evangeline,” Timur said. “But we’ll be back tonight for dinner.” Ashe’s fingers were driving him mad where she stroked the pads of her fingers against the bare skin on his neck.
His male roared and pushed against the human frame trapping him as he sensed his mate close. Timur nipped Ashe with strong teeth, just on her chin. Her entire body shuddered. They’d almost left it until too late. The female’s rise was fast this time, not unexpected, but fast.
He set her on the floor and stood, waving at his brother and sister-in-law as he tugged on Ashe’s hand. “I’m sorry, malen’kiy smerch , I should have been paying more attention.”
“It’s not your fault.” She dismissed his crime immediately, defending him when he knew there was no defense. She had to be his priority when she was in heat like this. One never neglected one’s mate, and he had no intention of ever neglecting Ashe.
He used his longer legs to take wider strides, so she was practically running, but it gave her female something else to concentrate on for a few minutes. He wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and the house. Cursing himself for not taking better care of her, he kept his gaze fixed on the guesthouse, which was a good distance away.
“You’re muttering.”
The soft laughter in her voice stroked sensual awareness right through his body. She sounded happy. She also sounded in need. Hungry for him. That took his body to an entirely different place.
“I should have been paying attention to you. I’m your damn mate and I neglected you,” he reiterated. Every muscle was tight. Aching now. What was her body like? Her skin glowed with heat, need pouring off her in pheromones.
“I’m not certain I can make it back to the house,” Ashe admitted, stopping. When he turned toward her to scoop her up, she wound her arms around his neck, going up on her toes to kiss him over and over.
He lost himself in her mouth, in the way he did the moment he touched her. His cock hurt like a son of a bitch, so hard he was afraid any movement would make him shatter. He slid his arms down the curve of her spine, kissing her, his mouth demanding. The roaring in his ears increased.
With her arms circling his neck, the skirt had ridden up and his hands bunched the material until he found her bare bottom. He caught at her perfect cheeks, fingers digging deep, claiming her. He walked her backward toward the small garden at the side of the house. Flowers climbed archways and ran along a short white fence. He barely noticed his surroundings. He could only feel flames licking over his skin and fire burning hot in his belly.
He did his best to be gentle, but needs were riding him hard. His needs, hers. He tasted her hunger. Tasted the taste that would always be his. Only his. She was practically purring as he devoured her mouth and stroked her tongue with his. He wanted to crawl inside her, share her skin, share her body, put his marks on her so it was clear to every other male in the vicinity that she belonged to him.
He needed rough. He wanted to be gentle. He needed to own her. He wanted her to feel his love for her. Her hand crept down and slid over his hard length, stroked, and then gripped.
“I want to feel you in my mouth,” she whispered. “I love how heavy you are. How you feel like velvet and steel at the same time. I like the way you stretch my lips so wide. It makes me know how you’re going to stretch me deep inside.”
Her soft voice nearly was the end of his strength. Just when he was certain there was no way to love her more, she did something like that. She made him feel as if he was everything to her. He’d never been everything to anyone. Not even that first day he was born. He knew, because his male had been aware. His mother had felt not love, but trepidation, fear that her husband would choose that time to kill her now that she’d given him more than one son.
Ashe looked up at him with pleading eyes. Her hands slipped inside his drawstring pants and found him hot and ready. Her thumb slid over the crown, smearing the drops of his need before she fisted him.
“What is it you want, baby?” He whispered the question, needing to hear her say it one more time. Wanting her to look at him while she asked.