Breeds only mated once, he’d told her; if either of them lost the other, then they’d be alone. She’d been alone so long, though, that she didn’t know if she knew how to be a part of anyone else, even though she longed to be a part of Cullen.
Waking next to him felt really nice, though. He was warm, powerful, and she ached for him. The emotional storm earlier that day had dulled the need, her exhaustion pulling her into sleep.
She was awake now and she wanted him. She needed him. Every cell in her body felt overly sensitive as the building sensual need tightened through her with an ache only Cullen could assuage. And that wasn’t just Mating Heat. That need for him had been her reality for years.
She had always known that only Cullen could ease the needs that plagued her.
The heart wants what it wants, her father had once told her, and her heart had always been set on Cullen. From the moment she’d first seen him that night when he’d been brought to the Nation, a part of her had belonged to him.
Lifting her hand from where it lay against his chest, she let her fingers caress the bronzed expanse of tough flesh covering tense muscle.
Heat radiated from his flesh as she stroked him softly. Trailing her fingers over his chest, learning the feel of it, sensing the power contained with it, she felt her breathing and her heart rate accelerate.
The response sweeping through her own body still had the power to shock her. Even before waking her breasts were swollen, her nipples peaked with the need for touch. Between her thighs the folds of her sex were slick and hot, her clit aching and the inner tissue clenched and rippling with hungry need.
“You’re finally awake,” he whispered, his voice a rasp of hungry, aroused male. “I was wondering how much longer I could wait.”
“You were waiting for me, huh?” She couldn’t help the grin that curled her lips. “I was wondering where your legendary patience had gone.”
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An amused quirk of his lips met her gaze as she propped herself on an elbow to stare down at him in the dim light of the room.
His green eyes were heavy lidded, his expression filled with lazy male sensuality.
“My patience went right out the damned window when you left,” he said, his gaze turning somber as he reached up with one hand to cup the side of her neck. “I think my agents are ready to revolt on me. Ranger mostly just glares at me now.”
“You’ve been a grouch again?” she asked, remembering his reputation for it before she came to work for him. “And here I thought you were doing so much better.”
“You left me, Chelsea,” he reminded her, exerting just enough pressure at her neck to draw her lips to his. “You can’t do that again. Never again.”
His lips whispered over hers, stroking, rubbing, and then his head tilted, his lips parted and he deepened the touch with hungry demand.
The taste of cinnamon infused her senses as his tongue rubbed against hers, encouraging her to taste him deeper. And she did.
She loved the taste of his kiss. That subtle heat, the pleasure that coursed through her senses and the low, rough male groan that rumbled from his chest.
Pulling her head back to catch a breath while she still had enough sense to do it, she stared into the marked, sexual need gleaming in his eyes.
With a drowsy, sensual look she flicked her tongue out to touch her lip suggestively, her hunger for him growing in demand as he pulled her to him once again. Her nipples brushed against his chest, the peaks hardening further, becoming so sensitive it was nearly painful. Blood thundered in her head, through her body, a gasp escaping her as his lips covered hers again with desperate, hungry need.
Capturing his tongue as it pressed inside, Chelsea drew the spicy taste from it, moaning at the incredible pleasure racing through her.
Cullen had one hand buried in her hair and caressed up and down her back with the other, stroking the pleasure and need higher and hotter. It wasn’t just his kiss or whatever chemical reaction it caused. It wouldn’t matter how he touched her as long as he touched her, let her touch him.
She had yearned for him for years, ached for him.
Let him believe this hunger was some fault of nature, of his genetics, if that was what he wanted to believe. She knew better. She knew it had to be so much more.
He needed her touch just as badly as she needed his. It had to be more than lust. He had to feel more than simple sexual need; otherwise she’d be loving him in vain, and that she couldn’t bear.
Forcing herself back from his kiss, she stared down at him, her breathing as rough as his. A brick red flush ran along his cheekbones as he stared back at her, his gaze drowsy and far too sexy.
There was more in his gaze than just lust. She’d seen just lust many times in other men’s eyes. There was passion there and something more. Something that connected inside her heart and sent a rush of pleasure sweeping through her.
“Are you going to stare at me all night?” His lips quirked as his brow lifted arrogantly.
Chelsea licked her lips, that need that swept over her impossible to resist.