“Naw, darlin’, not crazy. Hot. Wicked. Never crazy. ” He pressed closer between her thighs, feeling the heat of her pussy through his jeans, searing his dick.
“You’re forgetting who I am again,” she whimpered, but her head came forward, her lips pressing to his neck as every muscle in his body clenched in response.
“I know who you are, pretty girl. ” His teeth scraped her other nipple as her responding cry sent a shock of satisfaction raging through him.
This was why she was still alive, why he couldn’t hurt her, could never harm her. For this pleasure, the taste of her, the heat of her. Nothing else. When he was finished, when he had sated himself with the need clawing at his insides, then he would pack her ass up and haul her to Sanctuary. Callan could do whatever the hell he wanted to with her then. If there was honor in her, Callan would find it.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered again as he continued to nip at one berry-ripe nipple while he bore her to the bed. “You don’t understand. ”
“I understand my dick is so hard I’m going to come in my pants if I don’t get inside you,” he growled as he laid her back on the bed. “I understand you taste as sweet as sugar and you’re hotter than fire. What the hell else do I need to know?”
He leaned back, staring down at her pale face, her wide chocolate eyes. Sable hair spread out around her head like a silken fan, and excitement had flushed her breasts the color of a pale sunset.
She wasn’t exactly beautiful, except to him perhaps. Her irregular features—the little stubborn chin, pert nose and high cheekbones—and the faint Asian set of them combined to make her infinitely unique.
“I don’t want this, then. ” Her head shook as her face mirrored some inner desperation.
“Don’t you, Scheme?” Before she could tighten her thighs to evade him, his hand slid between them, cupping the fiery mound of her pussy as his teeth snapped together at the heat filling his hand.
“You’re so fucking wet I could drown in you,” he said accusingly, using his fingers to part the swollen curves and find the honey beyond.
She jerked, shuddering as his finger slid along the narrow cleft to find her swollen clit.
“You’re close,” he growled. “I can smell your heat. Feel your pleasure growing. You’re so close to coming you’re having to fight it. ”
“No. ” She shook her head, fighting him, fighting the pleasure.
“No?” When she was this close? “Sweetheart, you’re so primed I could get you off with a few licks of my tongue. Wouldn’t you like that? To feel your hard little clit in my mouth, sucking you, tonguing you?”
“I don’t fuck animals,” she snapped, desperate anger filling her voice as the words whiplashed in his mind, causing him to still above her, his fingers poised to rub against the distended little knot of nerve endings awaiting his touch.
Before he could stop himself, an enraged snarl left his lips, causing her to pale further before he managed to jerk back from her, whipping the blanket over her naked body as he fought for control.
“You’ll fuck me,” he growled furiously. “Before you leave here, you’ll be on your knees begging me to fuck you. ”
“Not even if you had the finest carpet covering the floors,” she shot back furiously. “If I wanted to fuck one of your kind, I could have had my pick of you at any time. Coyotes aren’t the only Breeds still beneath my father’s command, Tanner. Remember that. ”
He bared his teeth, the predator raging inside him, roaring for release, for surrender. Her surrender.
“Get dressed,” he snapped. “Now. And the next time you call me an animal, Scheme, I’m going to show you exactly what your goddamned father helped train for all those years. ”
He stalked from the room, taking the nearest tunnel, and headed topside again. If he didn’t get away from her, if he didn’t get the smell of her out of his head, then he was going to end up forcing that surrender. And that was something he had sworn he would never do.
CHAPTER 7
Oh God, what had she done? She had a death wish; it was that simple. Because she had seen murder in Tanner’s eyes the second she’d thrown that final remark at him.
Desperation. Fear. Scheme Tallant was rumored to never know fear. She was ballsy. Deceptive. Scheming. She did not know fear.
Not true fear anyway. She had grown used to the threat she lived under beneath her father’s command. That threat, to a point, had been controllable, though, until she began taking more and more chances.
Running her hands over her face, she fought for a way out of this one. Even now, her skin felt fevered, burning for him. One touch and he made her hotter than she had ever been in her life. He made her weak. He made her remember what it was like to be young, to need to feel warmth. The brief affairs she’d had in the past were pale comparisons to what she needed now.
She was thirty years old, but sometimes she felt twice that age. Right now, she felt a hundred. As long as Tanner had been watching her, she had been watching him. He was o
n her short list of suspects where the Breed spy was concerned. He was privy to the Breed Cabinet’s innermost secrets. He knew security, communications and long-range plans. Things her father’s Breed spy seemed to know as well. He was exactly where he would need to be to destroy the Breeds. And to destroy her. He was a weakness.
Pushing herself to the edge of the bed, she let her feet dangle, watching the soft shadow they cast from inches above the floor.