"Come with me." He didn't touch her, not yet. Turning on his heel, he strode along the short foyer to the receiving room, waited until she entered, then closed the doors securely and locked them.
"Jonas?" The concern in her tone sliced through him as he turned back to her.
Before he could stop himself, and God knew he wished he could have stopped himself, he gripped her shoulders, spun her around and pressed her against the door.
Her soft cry was lost as his lips parted and his teeth gripped the side of her neck in sensual warning. The animal knew what was going on with the man. It knew he was fighting a battle he was going to lose, and he couldn't stop himself.
"Jonas!" Shock and arousal fueled the needy, breathless sound of her voice.
Gripping her hips, Jonas held her still as his knees dipped, his hips pressing against her rear as a harsh growl tore from his throat.
When she didn't fight, when he smelled the soft flavor of feminine juices spilling from the luscious heat of her pussy, his teeth slowly released her.
His fingers flexed on her hips as he rubbed his cock against the cleft of her rear, rotated his hips and imagined the pure ecstasy of sinking inside her.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.
"You're my mate." His voice didn't sound like his own. It was rougher, harder, more primal. "Do you know how hard it is not to take you?"
Pressing his lips against the vulnerable crook of her neck, Jonas inhaled the scent of her, tasted her wit
h his tongue, and swore it would go no further.
"I want to taste you," he groaned. "Just one kiss, but I know what just one kiss will do. It will destroy both of us."
Her fingers were flexing against the door, her nails scraping the wood as his hands slid lower, bunched the fabric of her gown and began drawing it upward.
His control was splintering. He could feel it. Every shred of strength he possessed was centered on holding her to him, keeping her locked in place while he touched.
His cock was throbbing as he rolled his hips against the firm muscles of her ass. He imagined pushing her dress higher, tearing her panties from her, spreading the smooth globes and watching as he pressed his cock inside the heated depths of her pussy from behind.
She would be tight.
His fingers met the smooth flesh of her thigh, the material of her skirt and lacy underskirt flowing over his arm as he let them stroke the silken flesh until he worked his way to the tender skin at the crease of her thigh.
"Jonas, if you don't stop now, you won't--" Her soft protest ended with a gasp as the pads of his fingers raked over the silk covering the humid heat of her pussy.
"I'll stop." But he wasn't so certain.
Jonas could feel the hunger rising now, the hormone spilling harder from the glands beneath his tongue and heating his senses with the need to share it.
"Tonight, I have to walk into another of those parties, and I have to see other men watching you, smell their lust and their intent, and know you aren't yet my mate."
"I'm not your mate, period," she argued breathlessly.
His lips peeled back in a furious snarl.
She was denying him, again.
His fingers slipped beneath the elastic leg of her panties and before she could protest, two slid through the slick, hot juices hidden between the soft folds of flesh there.
She was wet. Hot. She was his mate, whether she wanted to admit it or not. His mate. God help him, but he didn't know if he could let her go.
Pleasure. She had never known so much pleasure in a man's arms in her life.
Rachel fought not to arch against the touch of Jonas's fingers between her thighs, the callused pads rubbing, stroking.
"Oh, God." The words slipped from her lips as heat swirled through her body, built and wrapped around her senses. "Jonas, we have to stop."