The Feline Breeds called their women their mates. In one interview, Callan Lyons and his wife had been amazingly reticent about the sexuality Callan displayed. But Elizabeth had known that something had bonded them closer than just love. She could see it in their faces, in their eyes as they gazed at each other. That little glimmer of a secret. And she had been envious.
She knew Dash would have warned her beforehand if he knew this would happen. Knew he wouldn’t have hidden it from her. And he had been even more surprised than she had.
It filled her with a sense of pride, of feminine possessiveness, to know that he had not given that experience to any other woman. It was hers alone. As shocking, as amazing as it had been, it was still hers alone. Just as that magnificent hard-on was hers. Period.
She watched as it flexed, throbbed. Tempted her. Her hand smoothed over Dash’s chest as he suddenly tensed further, down his abdomen, across the top of his thigh.
“Elizabeth.” His voice was dark, thick, his fingers tightening in her hair.
“Hmm?” She caressed her way between his powerful legs, her fingers moving slowly until she was cupping the smooth, silken sac of his scrotum. “Why don’t you have any hair here?”
“Ah God.” His hips arched as she caressed his testicles softly, running her fingers over the ultra-smooth, obviously ultra-sensitive, flesh. “Because I’m a Breed.” He seemed to have pushed the words between clenched teeth.
“Am I hurting you?” She stilled, watching the soft pearl of liquid forming at the opened eye of his cock.
“No,” he breathed out roughly. “But are you sure you want to keep this up?”
“Mmm.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, watching his hard flesh jerk as she cupped the sac more fully within her palm. “I’m sure.”
“Elizabeth,” he groaned as she moved lower, her lips stroking over his flexing abdomen. “Baby. Wait.”
“For what?” Her hand stroked up from his testicles to the hard shaft of his cock.
Her fingers couldn’t circle it, but she could stroke it. She watched as her hand slid up the thick pole, her finger rubbing over the slick essence that seeped from his cock.
“We need to talk.” His voice was strained. “About earlier. Elizabeth, we have to figure this out.”
“What’s there to figure out?” She laid her head on his lower stomach, the bulging head of his erection just below her. Before he could speak, her tongue peeked from her lips and swiped along the glistening head of his cock.
“Oh hell. Elizabeth,” he muttered, his fingers tangling in her hair as the muscles of his abdomen clenched harshly.
She went lower, despite the pressure he exerted on the strands he gripped. Her mouth capped the hard crest, her tongue flickering over the little eyelet at the tip before stroking around the bulging crest. She was rewarded with a small spurt of the salty sweet fluid that had released into her mouth before.
“Enough.” Before she could tempt him further, tease him further, he gripped her shoulders and flipped her to the bed as he rose over her. “Are you insane?”
She licked her lips slowly as she watched him from beneath lowered lids, hungry for the taste of him. There was something wickedly exciting in drawing his cock into her mouth. Something that fired all her baser instincts and made her completely wanton.
“Not insane,” she whispered as she lifted her head and licked her tongue over his lips, pressing against them, slipping it between them.
She shared the taste of his essence with him then. Her gaze locked with his, seeing shock flare in his eyes a second before he groaned roughly; the hand that had tightened in her hair pulled her head back until he could take control of the kiss.
His tongue tangled with hers, then followed it as it retreated behind her lips. He swept into her mouth demandingly, licking at her lips, her tongue, kissing her with a heat and hunger that had her moaning and arching into his touch.
“Damn you.” He tore his lips from hers, breathing roughly as he stared down at her. “You felt what happened last time, Elizabeth. You know what I did to you.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, smiling in anticipation. “Now do it again. Let’s see if it will work again the second time.”
Shock filled his gaze, then heat. Incredible, incendiary heat as he stared down at her intently. Slowly, a smile that could only be called wolfish curled his mouth.
“I’ll make you scream harder this time,” he warned her softly. “I’ll make you…”
He stopped, his head suddenly rising, eyes narrowing as he stared at the door.
“Dash?” Elizabeth felt his body tense dangerously, rather than in arousal.
He was moving from her as she heard feet pounding up the stairs, then a hard knock at the door. “Get ready, Dash. Grange has men in town and they could be heading out here. We have to get you moving. I’ve called the pilot; fifteen minutes to landing.”
Dash snarled as his head turned, but Elizabeth was already out of the bed and pulling on the clothes he had left laying out for her.