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She couldn’t stand it. He was killing her. The pleasure was so extreme, so intense it was overwhelming.

The sensations tearing through her came in rolling, blistering waves, building steadily, racing through her with each thrust of his fingers as they pushed steadily deeper inside her; she wasn’t certain she’d survive it.

The last wave exploded in an orgasm that powered through her senses with such force she tried to scream his name. It tore through her body as she thrashed against it, crying out at the pure pleasure.

Violent tremors jerked through her body, the devastating release unlike any she’d had before. And still, it wasn’t enough. She needed more, burned for more.

“Look at me, Chelsea.” The demand didn’t make sense at first. “Look at me. Now.”

She forced her eyes open, staring up into the brilliance of his gaze as he knelt before her, the thick, heavy stalk of his cock gripped in one hand.

“What have you done to me?” she gasped, her breathing shallow, her pussy rippling with the demand to be taken. “What have you done, Cullen?”

“What have you done to me?” he groaned.

Coming over her, he tucked the wide crest of his erection between the swollen folds, a heavy grimace of pleasure tightening his expression. His eyes were brighter, his face sweat dampened. A single bead of perspiration trailed down his hard jaw, drawing her gaze for a second.

Just a second.

Her eyes jerked back to his as he began working his cock inside her, stretching her, burning her. Her head tossed, her hands jerking to his arms, desperately needing something to hold on to as brutal, fiery pleasure began pouring through her.

Her knees bent, lifting to grip his hips as her nails bit into his biceps, her eyes staring up at him in dazed, agonizing pleasure.

“Don’t—” A groan whispered past her lips. “Oh God, don’t play with—” A sob shuddered through her. “Don’t play with me— Take me now . . . Now . . .”

His hands clenched at her hips then, a snarl pulling at his lips as he drew back, his muscles bunching just

before his hips moved, impaling her with several hard, throbbing inches of his cock.

He didn’t pause after that first thrust.

His mouth slammed down on hers, his tongue pushing past her lips as he pushed deeper, harder inside her, burying the hardened flesh to the hilt.

She couldn’t take more. His cock filled her, overfilled her, throbbed and burned inside delicate flesh stretched around him. With each hard stroke her juices spilled from her, coating his cock with a heavy layer of slick heat and aiding each impalement.

His kiss was spicy hot now, that taste of cinnamon heat intensified, sinking inside her senses and making her crave more of it. The heavy thrusts between her thighs began gaining in speed, jackhammering inside her pussy, each stroke vibrating into her clit and intensifying the swelling, burning pleasure raging through it.

She couldn’t bear it. She was racked by so many sensations, each one brutal on its own; combined they razed her senses. Wild and tumultuous, she tried to fight it, fought to pull back, only to be dragged deeper into the maelstrom. Deeper, higher, until she stiffened, jerking as a harder series of orgasms began tearing through her, exploding with such power, such force, she swore she was losing herself in him. Giving him a part of herself even she didn’t know existed inside her.

As the first waves of ecstasy invaded her, she felt his thrusts change, become harder, shorter, and then he jerked above her, an animalistic growl rumbling in his throat a second before the first pulse of semen spurted inside her, just before she felt the impossible.

The tabloid stories—she hadn’t imagined they were true. But she felt it. Felt an added erection emerge from beneath the head of his cock, lock inside her, pulsing with each hot spurt of his release as it filled the snug confines of her vagina.

It was all true.

Oh God, what had she gotten herself into?

CHAPTER 9

From Graeme’s Journal

The Recessed Primal Breed

Recessed genetics make the Primal Breed a wild card. Because the animal, predatory and cunning, will not stay hidden for long.

She was sleeping.

A deep, hard sleep of exhaustion.


Tags: Lora Leigh Breeds Paranormal