She couldn't believe the complete abandon in his expression, his pleasure as he ate her with decadent hunger. His claws stroked her thighs, giving a hidden element of danger, a reminder of the creature he was, man and animal, and completely devoted to her pleasure. A pleasure so destructive to her heart, her emotions, that she found herself reaching out to him with everything inside her.
She feared she couldn't survive it. Need was such a driving, deepening hunger that it overrode every thought, every instinct other than the one for his possession.
Looking down between her thighs, she watched as his tongue distended and slid through the glistening flesh. Probing, flicking around her clit, a cry tore from her throat at the sensation. Pleasure raced through her. It tingled up her spine, through her nerve endings, sped through her bloodstream until every cell of her body felt flushed with it.
It was too much. She arched, fighting to get closer, her hands gripping her knees as he pushed her legs farther apart and began to devour her with an intensity that hinted at his own desperation.
She hadn't thought it could get better. It did. His tongue pushed inside her, suddenly fucking her pussy with a demand that kept her poised on the edge of bliss. Each stroke was white-hot; each thrust rasped, tingled, sent a flush of agonizing pleasure tearing through her as it built the ever-increasing fire burning for complete possession.
She needed it all. She needed all of him.
"Jonas, please," she whimpered as she felt his claws stroking up her thighs once again.
Sweat glistened on his brow, his shoulders; a rumbling growl vibrated against her flesh. He drew her clit into his mouth again and began to suckle it. Silver eyes filled with living hunger lifted to hers and threw her over the edge.
It was an edge of complete release. A firestorm swept through her, hurled her through a kaleidoscope of color and had her screaming his name with what little breath she had left.
She was shaking, shuddering, aching, reaching for him. She watched as he rose to his feet, his hands gripping her shoulders to lift her to him.
She wanted more. He'd had his taste of her, devoured her until he destroyed her mind.
It was her turn.
The heavy, thick length of his cock was before her, the flushed crest dark and broad, branded with firelight, tempting her lips.
Drawing closer, she let her tongue swipe over the head as he tried to pull her to her feet.
He seemed to freeze. As though that lightest touch held him suspended, locked him into place.
He tasted wild, like the mountains themselves. Fresh, invigorating. The dampness of pre-come exploded against her tongue, and with that taste of the mountains was a hint of the cinnamon and cloves that filled the taste of his kiss.
It was an intoxicating elixir. It fed the need already burning inside her; like gasoline to flames, it exploded through her senses and sent fiery lashes of exquisite pleasure ripping through her.
It wasn't a gentle thing. The need that arose inside her wasn't tame or calm, it was as wild as the hunger that raged in his eyes, in his expression. As wild as the animal whose genetics he shared.
A moan of pleasure left her throat as her lips parted and she drew the engorged head into her mouth.
What had she unleashed?
Jonas's head fell back as his hands flew to her head, his fingers gripping it, holding her still, everything inside him fighting to pull free of the wicked grip of her lips.
Damn her. He was holding her still to keep her from moving on his cock, but she was still destroying him. She was suckling at the engorged head with greedy flexes of her mouth, licking over the crest of his dick as though he were a favored treat.
He couldn't resist. His hips flexed, shifted. He watched as the flushed, wide crest slid just to her lips, then he pressed inside once again.
Again. He did it again, and again. It was a pleasure so intense, so violent, he swore he felt his knees shaking f
or a moment before he tightened them. His entire body was taut, tense with lightning-fast, erotic fingers of sensation.
He was fucking her mouth with slow, easy strokes. The tight, wet grip, her flickering tongue drove him crazy with need, with hunger.
Ah God, he couldn't bear it. He fought it. He couldn't come like this. He couldn't risk whatever unknown results . . .
His hands locked on her head again, stopping the rapid strokes of her mouth. Not that it stopped her. Once again she sucked, her tongue flicked, rivulets of heated, pulsating pleasure wracking his balls as he forced himself to pull back, forced himself from the ecstatic grip of her lips.
Snarling, he fought to restrain the hunger racing through him and lost.
"I needed to tell you . . ." He turned her, pressed her hands to the wood table and urged her to bend over.