His hips jerked, instinct rushing through him as he fought to bury his cock inside her.
The gasp of her breath as the hard, covered flesh of his dick raked against her clit was nearly his undoing.
"Can I taste you?" The question had pure pleasure exploding through his mind. "Just once."
She wanted. He could smell the want pouring from her, a want he had promised he wouldn't take advantage of.
"Taste me," he whispered. Hell, he had no idea if it would hurt or not. There had been instances that even the tiny hairs on a Breed's body contained minute amounts of the mating hormone. But it was rare. So rare.
Her head lifted to him as he bent to her, expecting to feel the touch of her lips on his chest. Instead, her head lifted farther, and he felt the stroke of her tongue against his neck, the rasp of her teeth.
Goddamn. He was going to melt. Fire raced along his body, tore through his balls and melted his brain. Impulse and instinct were the only things left. He had enough thought process left to thank God that his animal instincts had enough honor to not force the mating heat on her.
"Cinnamon," she whispered. "You taste like cinnamon and cloves, Jonas."
"God. No." He tore himself from her.
Jerking back, he forced himself to his own seat, his head falling back as he ran his hands through his hair and fought for control. Just a little control, enough to keep himself from taking what he so, so desperately wanted.
"What, Breeds aren't allowed to taste like cinnamon and cloves?" There was an edge of frustrated amusement, almost playfulness, to her voice.
Jonas breathed in roughly. "That mating hormone: It tastes like cinnamon and cloves."
"Merinus said it tasted like a rainstorm." Confusion filled her voice as he heard her sitting up.
"Merinus has a big mouth," he muttered as he felt the claws slowly retract and control return by minute increments. "It's different sometimes. It's according to the Breed."
"So Callan is stormy and you're hot?" That was definite amusement. Damn her, she was laughing about it when he felt as though he were going to explode.
"Or something." Lifting his head, he stared into her laughter-filled green eyes.
"Just think of the tabloid stories I could sell with this." Her brows wagged playfully. "Bureau director tastes of cinnamon and cloves, Feline Breed leader tastes of water and sulfur. What surprises will the Breeds come up with next?"
"You have no idea," he growled.
"Tell me, Jonas, do you think if we ever get around to having sex that you'll do the barb thing, or do you think you can convince it to stay hidden a time or two, just until I decide if I want to actually experience it?"
Someone seriously needed to instruct Merinus on the value of keeping Breed secrets secret.
"I don't think it works quite that way," he groaned, torn between amusement and frustration. Damn, where had his ice princess gone? The mischievous imp staring back at him now was going to make him crazy.
"Ah well, too bad. That barb thing sounds rather intimidating to me." Straightening her skirt, she licked her lips, her expression shifting as though some taste there pleased her.
Damn, if he actually had the chance to taste her, he would do more than relish it. His tongue would be buried so deep inside her pussy that she wouldn't know where she ended and he began.
As for the "barb thing," as she called it, he had to admit he was looking forward to it. The whispers he'd heard of the pleasure it induced made it sound like a sexual nirvana. A pleasure that radiated to every cell of the body and left a Breed shaking and begging for more.
Blowing out another hard breath, he narrowed his eyes and watched as Rachel licked her lips again. Her nipples were still hard and the sweet scent of her pussy still infused the air, just as the darker, richer sent of her arousal tormented his already starving senses.
She was his buffet, and he was starving for her.
Pulling the electronic pad free of its case, Rachel frowned as she used the stylus to pull something up on the pad's face.
Her forehead tightened as she began to read.
"I need to skip this party tonight," she murmured as though it didn't matter to her either way. "We have information coming in from China concerning several companies there that Brandenmore and Ingalls have contacted. They suspect they've sent in genetic information to those companies. I want to follow the trail."
"Forget it. Put Brim on the trail; his contacts there are more extensive and he has the time for it. You don't."