Viper Game
Page 60
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Her breasts were rose colored, her nipples tight, hard buds. Her breathing came in gasps and pants and there were more diamond droplets in the curls between her legs. She leaned forward and stroked him with her tongue, lapping gently, careful of his sensitivity. She licked up his shaft and around the head, soothing this time, as if she really were a cat caring for him. Up and down his shaft, along his sac and over the flared head.
He was growing harder with every stroke, just as if he hadn’t already expended seed, energy and passion.
Chapter 10
With one hand, Wyatt ripped his shirt off and flung it to one side. His skin felt as scorching hot as his cock. She had some kind of biochemical in her mouth, something that fed his arousal. With every lap of her tongue, she inflamed him more. The same biochemical had to be emitted through the pads of her fingers because each stroke of her hands, the touch of her fingers, made his head roar with hunger.
He gripped her shoulders and forcefully pushed her backward to the floor. There was no give there, nothing to cushion her when he pounded into her. He stood over her as she sprawled out, her dark hair cascading around her, dark as a raven’s wing, pools of it spilling in whorls, masses of silk against the old, discolored wood. Her knees were open and she started to move, to close them.
“Don’,” he instructed harshly. “Stay just like that.”
She swallowed and nodded, subsiding, allowing her knees to stay wide open to his view. He shed his boots fast and then his jeans, all the time watching the rise and fall of her breasts, pleased with the marks covering her, showing she belonged to him, especially pleased with the need spilling out between her legs, calling to him. Her scent enveloped him and he knew the same biochemical was there, wafting up to him, driving him insane with hunger, with lust.
His mouth watered. His cock jerked, just as hard and edgy as before, the need edging on brutal. She was flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In need. Just as hungry and inflamed as he was. Waiting for him. Desperate for him. He wanted her that way. She was the thing of fantasies. She could control men easily through sex but she would never be satisfied. He knew if he was going to keep her, she couldn’t be in control of him. He needed to show her he could satisfy her always.
He could take away the desperate hunger that built and built in her until she thought she’d lose her mind. Only him. He could match her passion for passion. Fire for fire. He could tie her to him this way and she’d never escape. She’d been so afraid of tying him to her through sex, that she had never stopped to consider it might go the other way. He’d been careful to keep that information to himself.
He was a fucking genius, and she should have known he’d approach his claiming of her with advanced knowledge, already certain of every move. He’d studied her over the last few days, watched her, had been inside her mind. He knew exactly what to do to get her – to keep her. They could teach her every trick there was when it came to sex. They had found a woman with exceptional beauty, someone naturally sensual and appealing to men. Still, there had to be something else they’d done to her, something to make her need sex, and appeal to every man. The only real answer had to be biochemical.
He had watched to see the cycle, knowing there had to be one. He could match the sex she needed with her cycle to leech the biochemical from her body, to maximize the output so she would have more control. He wasn’t ever going to be stupid enough to tell her – or anyone else – he’d found the secret. For the first time he was grateful for the cat DNA slipped into him. His cat was fierce, feral and dominating. He could match her passion for passion.
Without a word, he dropped to the floor, yanking her knees farther apart. She let out a gasping cry. He stared into her wide, shocked eyes, his hand cupping her sex, feeling the scorching heat. “Mine,” he claimed, making it another demand. “You are mine. This is mine and I don’ share well with others.” He wanted to make that point over and over so if she ever went into heat without him close she would know better than to act on it.
She swallowed hard. That wasn’t enough for him. Not nearly enough. He dragged her body to his, using her legs, keeping her wide open.
“I want the words. When I tell you somethin’, you answer me.”
“I didn’t realize it was a question, Wyatt,” she soothed, evidently realizing he was bordering on violence. “I want to be yours. Only yours.”
“No one else ever puts their hands, their mouth or their fuckin’ cock here, you got that? There’s only me for you. My hands, my mouth, my cock, you got that?” He snarled it at her, allowing his feral side to slip further out. Just the thought of her with another man made him dangerous. She needed to see that and to see that he would never, under any circumstances, allow her to manipulate him using sex.
He had hoped the wildness he’d been born and bred with combined with the enhancement of big predatory cat would make him the perfect partner for the biochemical rushing through her body. He’d been right. He could match her passion, take her all the way, drain her of the biochemical and leave her sated, even if for a small amount of time. For a woman who couldn’t be sated, who always was in need, it would be everything.
She swallowed hard, her gaze clinging to his and nodded silently. When he stared at her, his eyes beginning the change, she bit her lip and mumbled her reply. “Yes. I understand, Wyatt. Please. Please. I’m burning up.”
He didn’t wait. Didn’t give her any time. Her soft little plea affected him more than he ever wanted her to know. The heady scent of her, the beauty of her, sent him tumbling right over the cliff into such a heightened lust he’d never ever achieved before. He went willingly.
He was growing harder with every stroke, just as if he hadn’t already expended seed, energy and passion.
Chapter 10
With one hand, Wyatt ripped his shirt off and flung it to one side. His skin felt as scorching hot as his cock. She had some kind of biochemical in her mouth, something that fed his arousal. With every lap of her tongue, she inflamed him more. The same biochemical had to be emitted through the pads of her fingers because each stroke of her hands, the touch of her fingers, made his head roar with hunger.
He gripped her shoulders and forcefully pushed her backward to the floor. There was no give there, nothing to cushion her when he pounded into her. He stood over her as she sprawled out, her dark hair cascading around her, dark as a raven’s wing, pools of it spilling in whorls, masses of silk against the old, discolored wood. Her knees were open and she started to move, to close them.
“Don’,” he instructed harshly. “Stay just like that.”
She swallowed and nodded, subsiding, allowing her knees to stay wide open to his view. He shed his boots fast and then his jeans, all the time watching the rise and fall of her breasts, pleased with the marks covering her, showing she belonged to him, especially pleased with the need spilling out between her legs, calling to him. Her scent enveloped him and he knew the same biochemical was there, wafting up to him, driving him insane with hunger, with lust.
His mouth watered. His cock jerked, just as hard and edgy as before, the need edging on brutal. She was flushed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In need. Just as hungry and inflamed as he was. Waiting for him. Desperate for him. He wanted her that way. She was the thing of fantasies. She could control men easily through sex but she would never be satisfied. He knew if he was going to keep her, she couldn’t be in control of him. He needed to show her he could satisfy her always.
He could take away the desperate hunger that built and built in her until she thought she’d lose her mind. Only him. He could match her passion for passion. Fire for fire. He could tie her to him this way and she’d never escape. She’d been so afraid of tying him to her through sex, that she had never stopped to consider it might go the other way. He’d been careful to keep that information to himself.
He was a fucking genius, and she should have known he’d approach his claiming of her with advanced knowledge, already certain of every move. He’d studied her over the last few days, watched her, had been inside her mind. He knew exactly what to do to get her – to keep her. They could teach her every trick there was when it came to sex. They had found a woman with exceptional beauty, someone naturally sensual and appealing to men. Still, there had to be something else they’d done to her, something to make her need sex, and appeal to every man. The only real answer had to be biochemical.
He had watched to see the cycle, knowing there had to be one. He could match the sex she needed with her cycle to leech the biochemical from her body, to maximize the output so she would have more control. He wasn’t ever going to be stupid enough to tell her – or anyone else – he’d found the secret. For the first time he was grateful for the cat DNA slipped into him. His cat was fierce, feral and dominating. He could match her passion for passion.
Without a word, he dropped to the floor, yanking her knees farther apart. She let out a gasping cry. He stared into her wide, shocked eyes, his hand cupping her sex, feeling the scorching heat. “Mine,” he claimed, making it another demand. “You are mine. This is mine and I don’ share well with others.” He wanted to make that point over and over so if she ever went into heat without him close she would know better than to act on it.
She swallowed hard. That wasn’t enough for him. Not nearly enough. He dragged her body to his, using her legs, keeping her wide open.
“I want the words. When I tell you somethin’, you answer me.”
“I didn’t realize it was a question, Wyatt,” she soothed, evidently realizing he was bordering on violence. “I want to be yours. Only yours.”
“No one else ever puts their hands, their mouth or their fuckin’ cock here, you got that? There’s only me for you. My hands, my mouth, my cock, you got that?” He snarled it at her, allowing his feral side to slip further out. Just the thought of her with another man made him dangerous. She needed to see that and to see that he would never, under any circumstances, allow her to manipulate him using sex.
He had hoped the wildness he’d been born and bred with combined with the enhancement of big predatory cat would make him the perfect partner for the biochemical rushing through her body. He’d been right. He could match her passion, take her all the way, drain her of the biochemical and leave her sated, even if for a small amount of time. For a woman who couldn’t be sated, who always was in need, it would be everything.
She swallowed hard, her gaze clinging to his and nodded silently. When he stared at her, his eyes beginning the change, she bit her lip and mumbled her reply. “Yes. I understand, Wyatt. Please. Please. I’m burning up.”
He didn’t wait. Didn’t give her any time. Her soft little plea affected him more than he ever wanted her to know. The heady scent of her, the beauty of her, sent him tumbling right over the cliff into such a heightened lust he’d never ever achieved before. He went willingly.
