Recessed Primal Genetics and Mating Heat
The recessed Primal Breed in Mating Heat is like an animal with a thorn stuck in his paw. And he’ll bite the head off anyone daring to attempt to remove the object of his pain—
Cullen had always wondered how an active Breed felt, having both animal and human genetics merged inside them and working as one. There were times he’d actually imagined living with all his instincts intact.
This feeling was like nothing he’d ever imagined, though.
One arm went around Chelsea’s waist as she dared to turn her back on him. As though he were of no consequence. As though he weren’t man enough, Breed enough, to pull her anger into submission with his touch.
She was waiting for him.
As though the anger and pride burning in her spilled into the arousal simmering just beneath the surface, she didn’t fight him. The scent of her hunger speared through his senses instead, igniting what was already a combustible need burning through him.
She was already reaching for him as his lips ground over hers, parted them, and his tongue thrust into the sweet depths he found there. The taste of her kiss was hotter, sweeter than he remembered, burning through him like a flame. As her arms went around his neck, Cullen pulled her closer, reveling in the way her body arched to him, in the low feminine groan of hunger and pleasure that filled the air around him.
He’d dreamed of that sound while he’d been away. Ached for it. Ached for her.
The taste of her, the feel of her in his arms, against his body, made him more desperate, wilder to take her.
Beneath his jeans his already engorged cock swelled thicker, harder, his balls aching with the need for release. The need to fuck her, to bury inside her balls deep was a fever searing his senses.
Never had he needed a woman with the desperation he needed this one. And the knowledge that his hunger for her had only been growing over the past four years fed that need.
God knew he’d tried to stay away from her, to ensure she was protected, even from him. Especially from this wild, unbidden hunger he’d always fought to control. A hunger he had no idea if he could control once he loosed it.
And now it was loose.
Pushing one hand beneath the hem of her shirt, he let his fingers trail over the soft flesh of her side until they reached the full curve of her breast. Beneath the lace of her bra, her nipple was peaked, pebble hard and tempting.
Stroking his thumb over her nipple, Cullen growled as a shudder worked through her and the scent of her need intensified. Wild, all female, demanding and hot, that scent spurred his own hunger, his lust. And he knew he was hooked on that scent now, addicted and uncaring of the implications.
With each touch, that subtle sweet-and-spice scent went to his head and made his mouth water for a taste of her. She’d be hot and wet, silky and syrupy sweet against his tongue. And waiting any longer for the taste of her was a hell he didn’t want to visit.
Lifting her against him, Callan meant to carry her to the bedroom, to her bed. He had every intention of laying her down and at least trying to take her slow and easy. Then her legs lifted, her thighs gripping his hips, pelvis tilting forward until she was riding the ridge of his cock with little stroking motions that threatened to take him to his knees.
Making it to the bedroom just wasn’t going to happen.
He made it as far as the couch, where he laid her back against the cushions before stripping the T-shirt and bra from her and tossing it to the floor. And he thought he’d explode. The sight of her breasts arching to him, nipples hard and reddened, her expression dazed with pleasure, was killing him. God, she was beautiful.
Hunger glowed in her dark eyes, flushed her face and had her breasts rising and falling in quick little motions as she fought to breathe.
When her tongue licked over her lips and her gaze met his, he couldn’t resist another taste of those lips. A deep, drugging taste that had his senses spinning with the intoxicating sensations tearing through him.
Awakening Breed instincts were kicking through him with a vengeance now, and every damned one of those instincts was screaming at him to take her. Take her hard and deep, until all she knew was his touch, his hunger.
As each kiss deepened he palmed her breasts, shaped them, let his fingers pluck at her tight nipples as each little feminine moan pulled him deeper into the hunger tormenting him.
She met each kiss with demands of her own as well, then slid her hands between their bodies, her delicate fingers working desperately at the buttons of his shirt until each one was released and she was spreading the edges apart.
Her nails raked over his chest. He could swear he felt the caress through the fine hairs beneath her hands arrowing straight to his balls. The tiny, almost invisible hairs along his skin felt as sensitive as his flesh. Each touch sent pleasure racing through him like flames burning a path through his senses.
Trailing kisses from her lips to her neck, Cullen raked the sensitive skin there with his teeth, licked it, loved the taste of her. He couldn’t get enough of her. With each kiss, each taste, his hunger for her only grew.
Chelsea wasn’t a virgin. She had known sensuality and pleasure at a man’s hands before. She might have only had a few lovers, but those lovers had been considerate and experienced. She hadn’t left their beds feeling cheated. But she knew that if there was ever another man after Cullen, she wouldn’t feel that way ever again.
His kisses were potent. With each drugging caress of his lips over hers, his tongue plunging forcibly into her mouth, the sexual intensity moving through her only became stronger.
The taste of his kiss kept her reaching for more. A mix of heated male with a hint of cinnamon. Just enough that she began craving the taste of it, desperate for more when his lips moved from hers to stroke down her neck.