Читать книгу Untamed - Crystal Jordan - Страница 9

When Delilah woke up, the man was wrapped around her like a boa constrictor. She smirked. Afraid she’d get away, was he? Smart man.

She’d stay the week, though, if for no other reason than to find a way to get around his security system and snatch his ruby. She knew it was back in the safe. When he thought she was asleep in the middle of the night, she’d watched him take it out of her bag and return it to the safe. A frown pulled at her forehead as confusion swamped her. He had to know she could get into the safe again if she’d done it before. Faster this time, probably. So why put it back? His actions made no sense.

Then again, when did the rich make sense to anyone but themselves? Maybe he was just stupider than she assumed. It didn’t matter, so long as she could get enough time alone in this room to steal the ruby.

Once she made that happen, she’d offload it before anyone could prove she’d had her paws on it. If anyone asked why she’d been in Hunter’s flat, she could always claim to be a hired jade. It wasn’t like the police wouldn’t believe she was a prostitute. Her mother had been, and so had her sister Lorelei—until she’d clawed her way to the top of the food chain as a madam. Now Lorelei owned the most notorious technobrothel in New Chicago. Hell, the world, maybe. As unsavory as the life of a jade was, it wasn’t illegal. She couldn’t be arrested for getting paid to fuck a wealthy man. And, really, part of the fun of Delilah’s own job was taking from wealthy men. They’d taken so much from her and her family, it was only fair to return the favor. She’d have to lay low for a while after this, though. The money was definitely good enough to make it worth her while. Her client obviously wanted the ruby bad.

So, now it was a challenge. Figure out how to take the gem right out from under Hunter’s nose and not get caught. She ran her tongue down a long fang and grinned. She’d been paid to do a job and she was going to do it. She never failed, which was why she got the prime commissions. And playing with the hawk wasn’t going to be a hardship. He was good-looking, had an acre of microsilk sheets to roll around on, and had the most talented mouth she’d ever come across.

The things she did for her job.

It surprised her how he’d seen to her pleasure before he’d taken his own. Not what she expected from a spoiled rich boy like him who’d grown up with anything and everything he wanted. Then again, did she really care why? He was a mark, nothing more. She’d use him and he’d use her, but when it was over, she’d be the one on top. She always was.

Hunter sighed, his warm breath whispering over her neck as he snuggled in deeper. His arms tightened around her torso, pulling her even closer to him. The hard arc of his cock pressed against her ass. A low purr soughed from her throat. Now, there was a toy any cat would like to play with.

Reaching behind her, she let her fingertips feather over the length of him. He groaned against her skin, giving a tiny jolt as he woke. Peeking over her shoulder at him, she winked. “Good morning.”

“Mmm. Yes, it is.” His palms cupped her breasts while his hips thrust into her hand. “Don’t stop.”

She chuckled. “Hadn’t planned on it.”

“Good,” he grunted.

Extending her claws, she lightly ran the tips up the long shaft of his cock. He groaned, his hips thrusting into her touch. She rubbed the pad of her thumb over the tiny opening at the head and smeared the bead of moisture there, massaging it into the bulbous crest. His ragged breath brushed her ear, and he rubbed his palms over her nipples. Heat wound through her. The man knew how to touch a woman.

She loved the power that raced through her when she held a man’s cock in her hand, when she sucked it into her mouth. At that moment, rich or poor, smart or stupid, the man was hers. He would do anything for her. Her pussy clenched at the thought, moisture slicking the lips. Her fingers tightened around Hunter’s dick, but the angle at which she had to twist her arm made it difficult to stroke him the way she wanted to. She moved to roll over, but he stopped her, pulling her hand away from his cock.

“I wasn’t done yet.” Wriggling in his arms did little for her—he was bigger than she was, and unless she wanted to damage him, she wasn’t going to get away.

“I nearly was,” he growled. She couldn’t stop the grin that formed on her lips. She liked how he reacted to her. Not as a mark, but as a man to a woman. It was surprising, but chemistry like this wasn’t something she ran across often. Especially not while she was on a job. Best not to question it.

Reaching past her, he lifted a small, carved stone statue from his bedside table. He held it in front of her eyes and let her get a good look at it. Standing on a flat base was an ancient warrior in ceremonial garb—loincloth, headdress, and an eagle symbol carved over his chest. It was compacted, so that the figurine formed a long cylinder.

“What are you doing?” She shot a confused glance over her shoulder. There were a lot more pressing matters to take care of than a miniature Mayan statue.

“As if you couldn’t guess.” He tilted the top of the statue so that it parted her curls and rubbed against her clit. “Spread.”

He couldn’t possibly…but he did.

Rolling her hips, she kept the constant contact against her clitoris. Her arm reached back to fist in his silky hair. A moan exploded from her throat and her thighs eased apart. He pressed the small statue to the entrance of her sex, pushing in one slow micrometer at a time. It stretched her, and a helpless whimper echoed in the wide room. If she weren’t so wet already, it would have been painful. As it was, the pleasure was going to kill her.

“That is a twelve-hundred-year-old figurine,” she gasped, horror and excitement rippling through her. Stealing things like that were how she made her living. The man was clearly insane, but Deus this felt too good to stop now.

“At least. From the ruins of Palenque, I believe.” He pulled it out, only to push it back in again. Faster this time, harder. “You know your ancient artifacts.”

A shudder racked her form, and she twisted in his arms, clinging to sanity by the barest margin. “It’s my business to know.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back. “It’s never been put to better use.”

The ridges in the stone pressed into the walls of her sex, slightly rough, utterly exciting. Her fingers dug into his forearm, but she was careful not to let her claws scrape him again. A shudder rippled through her. “Hunter…”

He hummed in the back of his throat. “I like it when you say my name.”

Her head rolled against his shoulder, arching her torso. “Move. Faster. Hunter.”

A rough sound burst from him as she gasped his name, and he gave her exactly what she’d demanded. She lifted her leg, curling it back over his thigh. It left her wide open, gave him all the access he could possibly want. She didn’t give a single thought to how many creds she could get for that figurine, or how this was the kinkiest thing any man had ever done to her.

Her hips snapped forward to meet each of his thrusts, working herself as quickly as he would allow. Contractions rippled in her sex, tension building deep within her until she thought she might scream. The way her heart pounded made the sound of blood rush in her ears. She panted for breath, each lungful of air dragging his hot, masculine scent to her nose. It aroused her even more. Her head pressed back against his shoulder, her body bowing as she moved closer to orgasm.

He buried the figurine deep inside her, angled and twisted it as he pulled it out again, then did the same in reverse. The maddening scrape of the smooth edges against her most delicate tissue was more than enough to break her control. Her pussy convulsed around the statue, her walls closing on it while he kept pumping the thing inside of her.

The world faded around her until there was nothing left but the harsh sound of her own breathing, the heat of his erection pressing against her backside, the wide expanse of the figurine inside her. Her sex pulsed around it one last time, and she moaned.

“Did you enjoy that?” Hunter’s warm voice vibrated in her ear, and she could hear his smile.

She shuddered when he rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit, a purr slipping from her throat. “That was…creative.”

“Thank you, kitten.”

She shot an incredulous look over her shoulder, extending her claws to dig in to his arm while she flashed a smile at him. With fangs. “I’m no one’s kitten, rich boy.”

“You purr like one.” He kissed the nape of her neck, and she had to fight another purr. Something must have given her away, because he laughed. She hunched her shoulder and glared back at him.

He just smiled and twisted the figurine still buried inside her, making her gasp and shiver. Pressing it deeper, he slowly worked her with it again. He slid his hips back enough to slip the hand not holding the statue down her back and between her thighs. Rubbing her vaginal lips on either side of the thrusting figurine just emphasized the hard stone length of it moving within her. Her hands balled into fists, her claws digging into her palms.

Trailing her own moisture to the recessed pucker of her anus, he eased a finger inside her ass. Her breath caught, dark ecstasy charging through her system. He slid a second finger in, widening her. “I’m going to fuck you here, Delilah.”

“Yes,” she moaned, nodding for emphasis. The mere thought of being penetrated by both him and the statue made wetness surge between her thighs.

The statue stopped moving for just a moment, long enough to make her anticipation shriek. His cock nudged against her ass, entering in one long, slow push. She hissed, felt her fangs slide down, and struggled to keep a grip on the wildness inside. Her back arched and shudders ran through her muscles. “Don’t. Stop.”

“I haven’t even started, kitten.” His mouth opened on the back of her neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh. But he didn’t move within her. She was stretched past bearing, his long cock throbbing in her ass, the figurine lodged in her pussy.

She held herself still, agony and ecstasy balancing her on a razor’s edge. The need twisted tighter and tighter until she was ready to scream. “What are you waiting for?”

“For you to relax.” His palm slid up and down her side, the touch soothing, but did nothing to alleviate the tension building within her body.

Concentrating harder than she ever had in her life, she un-balled her fists and forced each muscle in her body to loosen. When he moved within her, sweet pain followed in his wake. She was so full. The movement of his cock pressed the thin wall separating her anus and her pussy against every single ridge and curve of the figurine.

She could feel every detail.

She moaned. The hot, vital feel of his flesh inside her along with the hard stone was exquisite. Gooseflesh broke down her limbs and she shivered, liquid flames coursing through her veins. He rocked his hips against her, his thrusts increasing in speed and force until the hard muscles of his lower belly spanked against her ass. His hand worked the figurine within her at a tandem rhythm until there wasn’t a moment where she wasn’t penetrated by one or the other. Or both.

Beads of sweat rolled down her body, sealing her back to his front. The scent of him intensified, deep and masculine. It filled her nostrils, sinking her into every sensation. Smell, touch, feel.

He chuckled, his hand moving the figurine as he stroked into her. “Say it.”

His name. He wanted her to say his name. She grinned and, shaking her head, refused to give him what he wanted. Instead, she clamped her anus tight around his thrusting cock, giving as good as she got. They both groaned at the increased friction.

Then he drove himself and the statue deep inside her, pressed his hand to her lower belly to still her movements, and froze. “Say it.”

She wriggled, trying to get free, trying to move. She couldn’t. He was bigger than her, stronger. Raking her claws up his arm, she hissed. “Move.”

“No.”

“Move.” She bucked and twisted, but her struggles only stoked the fire inside her higher and higher. Even without movement, the fit was so tight that her pussy spasmed around the figurine. Her muscles fisted around his cock. A choked breath rasped past her throat at the sweetness of it, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. “Deus.”

His voice dropped to a silken whisper in her ear. “Give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.”

A whimper was the only response she could manage as he used his free hand to pluck at her nipples. Then he pinched them hard, and she broke. “Hunter!”

“Yes.” He pistoned inside her, his cock stretching her almost as wide as the statue did.

She almost cried out in relief as pleasure ripped through her system. Shoving her hips forward and back to meet each thrust, she could do nothing more than moan. His hand stroked her nipples, and the combination was enough to make her shudder at the ripening tension.

His mouth opened over her shoulder, sucking on the sweat-dampened flesh. He bit down, and she screamed, shock and ecstasy flashing through her. Her body bowed hard as she came, and her sex clenched rhythmically as she exploded in his arms. His cock hammered inside her, his arms locking tight around her to hold her close, and a harsh groan ripped from his chest as his fluids filled her.

When orgasm finally eased its grip on her, she relaxed, her face pressing to the pillow. Her lungs burned as she tried to gulp in needed air. Shivers still racked her body many moments later, and she whimpered. “Deus.”

“Did I hurt you?” It almost sounded as though he were concerned, and she fought a snort. Any man concerned about a woman who’d tried to rob him was clearly out of his skull. Then again, any man who’d fuck a woman with a priceless figurine was also out of his skull, so Hunter wasn’t faring well on the sanity scale. He pulled both the statue and his cock out of her, his hands sliding over her as if looking for damage.

Peeking over her shoulder, she saw the same closed expression she’d noted the moment she’d met his gaze. He laughed and smiled, but there was a remoteness about him that warned people away. She doubted it was there solely for her benefit. It intrigued her—she’d never been one to heed warnings or obey rules. She wouldn’t be in her line of work otherwise.

A few moments passed while she looked him over, rolling so she could see all of him. He wasn’t hard to look at. At well over two meters tall, he made her feel petite. It was unusual. Unsettling. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. Something to consider later.

His shoulders were ridiculously wide, tapering to a narrow waist. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. She’d put her hands all over his pretty muscles the night before, so she knew firsthand how well built he was. She’d never met a man with a nicer body except one of her sister’s jades, Nolan Angelo. But…something about Hunter made him stand out in her mind. Nolan was as close to human perfection as a man came, and he’d never affected her this way.

It was Hunter’s face, she decided.

A slim scar ran from the corner of his eye and curved down to disappear under his jawline. Interesting. She wanted to know how he got it, wanted to run her fingertips over it to memorize the shape and feel. His eyes were a rich brown, flecked with amber, gold, and ebony, the look in them intense and focused. And they usually focused in on her. It made her feel stalked, hunted. Like prey. Also unusual, since she was usually the one doing the hunting.

His hair was also brown, a little long, but nothing special. Average coloring. He should have been easy to overlook and dismiss. He wasn’t.

He was imposing, but he didn’t scare her. He fascinated her. It was within his power to hurt her, and he hadn’t so far. Instead he’d made her come more times in one night than she’d ever imagined possible. And wasn’t that just a nice little bonus to their arrangement?

Nothing about him should fascinate her, and the fact that he’d more than captured her interest sent a niggle of worry though her. She pushed it aside—it would pass, and once the week was over and the job was done, she’d never see him again. That would be the end of it, no matter how intriguing she found him. It was just another reason she was good at her work. To put it mildly. She was the best. She took great pride in being the best. She’d worked her ass off to get the kind of reputation that said she never failed, that she could steal anything from anyone at any time. Nothing was going to change that. She wouldn’t let some rich little hawk smear her reputation. No one was that good-looking or that good in bed.

Putting any lingering uncertainty aside, she gave a contented cat-stretch and yawned until she thought her jaw might crack. “So, what shall we do for the rest of the day?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” A smile curved his lips and he reached for her.

Just watching Delilah walk was an erotic experience. The feline grace in every stride and every smooth swish of her hips captivated Hunter, and he was unable to tear his gaze away. Her small breasts bounced, the pert nipples a lovely shade of pink. He recalled clearly the satin texture of them in his mouth, the way they’d darkened and puckered.

His cock began to fill, the flesh firming with every step she took toward him. She settled herself on a stool topped with plush kleather padding. The kelp leather was prime grade, imported from Asia. The contrast of the black fabric against the pale flesh of her ass drew his gaze.

Everything about her drew his gaze.

And he liked having her here in his home. His instincts flickered to life at the reminder of what this woman was to him. Mate. The hawk within reveled at the claiming of her. He’d reached for her so often in the night that his body ached, but he’d woken again and again, the hunger so sharp he’d had to have her.

He blinked and swallowed, forcing his mind away from the heated memories before he bent her over the countertop to fuck her once more. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded, crossing her legs demurely. Considering her complete nudity, the gesture made him smile. He caught himself, the grin fading. He’d smiled more in the last day than he had in…years. Yet, it felt natural to smile at her, to laugh with her. She seemed to take such joy in living, throwing herself wholly into what she did and said. Whereas he was much more cautious.

Life after his parents’ death—life with his uncle—had taught him the value of caution. Nothing had changed his mind since. But he rarely changed it once a decision had been reached.

“Hunter?” She tilted her head to meet his gaze, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Are you going to offer me food just to tease me?”

He shook himself out of his reverie. “No. Of course not.” Turning to retrieve the required sustenance, he paused and looked back. “What do you like to eat?”

It was one of many things he didn’t know about this woman who was his mate. He knew she was a criminal, knew she was passionate and beautiful, but that was the extent of his knowledge. He would have to change that.

The deep craving inside him to know everything, to know all of her, had to spring from the mating instinct. He’d never been the least bit curious about his lovers. They were a means to a mutually satisfying end, nothing more. He’d never allowed any of them to be more.

The very notion of needing anything from anyone, of caring, was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. He knew how the loss of someone he needed would feel, how it could make him pray for death himself. No one got close to him, not really. He preferred it that way. Swallowing hard, he stuffed the cravings into the darkest corner of himself, never to see the light of day again. He would deal with this as he did everything else in his life—rationally.

Regardless of where the desire to know the particulars of her life sprang from, it was a practical need as well. If he was going to be near the woman for the rest of his life, it was necessary to understand what kind of threat she might be to his company, what kind of weakness she might present to his enemies. She would eventually find out she was his mate, though he’d hold off telling her as long as possible, but it was best he had all the salient details at his disposal beforehand.

It would make her easier to control.

“I’m a cat. I like fish best.” A gamine grin lit her face, and her fingers spread over the shiny metal surface of his kitchen counter. “But, I’m hungry enough to eat anything you put in front of me.”

The soft rumbling of her stomach reached his ears, underscoring her words. He nodded and reached for a cutlery drawer, plucking two sets out to drop them on the counter. She picked up a utensil to examine it and he narrowed his gaze at her. “Don’t steal that.”

She didn’t even bother to feign indignation, just gave him a thoroughly feline grin and set it back down. “I won’t.” She waited a beat. “I don’t bother with the petty thievery. You have much more enticing pieces here.”

“Don’t steal those, either.” He flicked his gaze over her torso, staring at her breasts. “Though I do recall how much you appreciated my collection this morning.”

Stroking her fingertip across her collarbone, she flashed a sinful look. “You have very unique uses for your collection. I couldn’t help but admire it.”

“That’s good to know.” Moving away from her again, he keyed his food storage unit for two plates of Alaskan rockfish and fresh greens. It took a few moments for the information to uplink into the system, and then the unit’s door unlocked with a soft click. He opened it, pulled out the gently steaming dishes, and set one in front of her.

Her eyes widened and she gave the air a delicate sniff. “Mmm. That looks prime.”

Hauling a kleather stool around to his side of the counter, he was about to sit when he paused. “I have ice wine, if you’d like.”

“I’d like. Thank you.” She set down the bite of food she’d scooped up and waited for him to return to resume her meal.

Sitting, he watched her. He rarely had anyone in his house for anything other than business or sex. Or both. They didn’t stay long enough to share a meal with him. It didn’t feel wrong, just…odd. He took a drink of his wine and contemplated her for a moment. She dined as gracefully as she walked. It didn’t fit with the mental image he would form of an experienced criminal—and she had to be very experienced to have gotten into his home.

Another question he couldn’t answer about her.

Now was as good a time as any to start unearthing the mystery of his mate. He picked up his utensils and began eating, casting her a casual glance. “Where are you from?”

She froze, her wineglass halfway to her mouth. For the first time since she’d sat down, she seemed discomfited, and gave him a guarded look. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious.” He frowned, disliking her reaction. He took another bite of food, trying to bank his reflexive annoyance at her reticence. The spices on the rockfish burst over his taste buds, perfectly complementing the dish. He might as well have been chewing on polyglass for all it did to still the unwelcome emotions roiling through him. He’d done nothing to cause the amount of distrust in her gaze. “Appease me.”

“I can think of better ways to appease a man.” The expression of practiced seductress molded her features again, and it irritated him even more this time. He took a breath, reining in the unwarranted feeling. It wasn’t like him to overreact about anything. He didn’t care for it.

“We’ll get to that.” His brow arched, and he issued a quiet order, “Answer the question.”

“I grew up in the Vermilion District.” Her shoulder lifted in a shrug.

He blinked, uncertain how the woman before him could have come from the cesspool that was the Vermilion. “You don’t…the way you speak isn’t…”

She met his gaze, her green eyes open and frank. “My mother made sure my sister and I knew how to speak well, use the correct utensil, and waltz like a lady. To entertain rich men. Not that I use those skills very often, but I do have them.”

“Ah.” He understood what she meant by “entertain” without having to ask for an explanation. It did slide a few more pieces into place. The amount of contempt in her tone when she said rich men was surprising, though. Every answer raised more questions. “How often do you end up entertaining?”

“For money? Never. My sister didn’t want me to enter that line of work, so I found something that interested me more.” She took a deep swig of her wine and focused on her food, clearly dismissing the subject.

Her sister was a jade. Likely her mother as well. It was so far removed from his own existence and the environment he was raised in. Despite his instinctual response to her, he forced the ruthless reminder into his mind. He couldn’t trust this woman. She was a thief, the sister of a whore, and she had even more to gain than the normal socialites who scrabbled for his attention and cred account. No matter how true it was, it made his belly cramp. How desperate must her childhood have been growing up in the Vermilion? He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Prostitution is at least legal. You chose a life of crime.”

She snorted, pausing to finish chewing before she spoke. “Strange how that turned out, isn’t it?”

“Why?” Leaning back on his stool, he pushed his plate away and picked up what was left of his wine.

Her blond eyebrows lifted. “Why what?”

“Why would you choose to become a thief?” He sipped the sweet liquor, savoring the flavor.

A breathy laugh escaped her. “You know, no one has ever asked me that.”

“Not even your sister?”

She licked her lips, mimicking his pose as she sat back. “We have a mutual agreement not to ask about the dirty details of each other’s work.”

“I can understand that.” He coughed into his fist, fighting another smile. A jade and a thief—he could definitely appreciate the problems of full disclosure inherent in either of those professions.

She just smiled.

“You haven’t answered my question.” He arched a brow at her. “Why a thief?”

“I’m good at it.” Her narrow shoulder lifted in a shrug, which made her breasts sway, drawing his gaze like a targeting missile. “My nature makes it easy, my personality makes it fun. Isn’t that what I should look for in a good job?”

“It’s still illegal.”

Her gaze narrowed to green slits and her voice dropped to a purr. “Laws only matter to people who have the luxury of following them.”

“True.” He’d struck a sore point with her there, but it was hardly a false accusation. What she did was illegal. That would have to stop. He had no desire to deal with the legal entanglements of having a thief for his mate—and she would hardly be able to keep her face from the newsvids. He certainly couldn’t. Then again, he didn’t have to marry her to breed with her. With her family background, she might even prefer being his mistress. He’d have to think about it. He rubbed his free hand over his forehead. This mating business was far more complicated than he liked.

The silken edge to her tone sharpened. “So, you’ve never broken a single law?”

Tilting his head, he decided to see where she was going with this. “I try not to.”

“Only try?”

He shrugged and grinned. “I have a corporation to run. I do what I have to, and sometimes rules need to be bent.”

She huffed a breath and crossed her arms over her breasts. “You’re as bad as I am, Mr. It’s Illegal.”

Lifting his hands to ward her off, he chuckled. “That wasn’t a condemnation, just an observation.”

“Hmmph.” She recrossed her legs in the other direction, and the soft brush of her thighs against each other reached his ears. He’d rather those thighs were brushing against his. “Well, then…I think that’s enough serious conversation for the day, don’t you?” Her glass clinked against the countertop when she set it down and stood. A sensual little smile formed on her face as she moved toward him. The erection that hadn’t fully eased during their meal came roaring back, lust fisting in his belly. He set his feet flat on the floor, using them to swivel his stool so he faced her when she came around the counter.

He cupped her hips in his palms when she neared, pulling her between his knees. Her nipples rubbed against his chest, making his breath hiss between his teeth. The feel of her was amazing. He’d never known anything like it with any other woman. There hadn’t been a single moment since he met her that he hadn’t wanted her, the need always on the edges of his consciousness. Even in his sleep, even in the quiet moments after he’d just had her. The little smile that formed on her lips made his cock ache with the need to be inside her any way that he could. “Kiss me, kitte—”

Her mouth slanted over his, and he chuckled against her soft, soft lips. Her tongue thrust into his mouth boldly, demanding a response his body was more than eager to give. He jerked her closer until the hot, damp curls of her sex rubbed against his cock. He filled his palms with her ass, lifting her into his body. Their breath mingled as they panted, their heads tilting to change the angle of the kiss. Deus, he loved kissing her.

The scent of her intoxicated him, headier than the finest wine. Soon his home would smell of her…and him. Them. Together. The hawk rippled to the surface, its pleasure matching the man’s at the very idea. His fingers burrowed inward until he could touch her slick heat from behind. He loved how wet she was for him, how responsive. She rubbed her torso against him, catlike, and a shudder ran through him.

Pushing at his shoulders, she leaned back enough so that she could drop to her knees before him. The height of the stool was just right to leave her mouth level with his throbbing dick. Anticipation coursed through him at the wicked look of delight on her gamine features.

She flicked out her tongue to catch the pearly beads of fluid sliding down his dripping cock. His fingers slid through her short hair, cupping the back of her head to hold her close. “Take me in your mouth, kitten. Suck me.”

Slipping the head between her lips, she purred an agreement. Her eyes danced as the vibrations ran along the length of his cock. He choked off a groan. She took as much of him into her mouth as she could fit, sucking hard enough to make every muscle in his body jerk in response. “Delilah.”

Her fingers wrapped around the base and she moved to slide her tongue down the underside of his shaft. “I love the look on a man’s face when I suck his cock.”

He growled at the thought of her doing this to any other man but him. She wouldn’t ever again. She was his. Pure male possessiveness ran through him, something else that was so unlike anything he’d ever experienced before it made his hands shake. Any other woman was cut off before she started to cling, but any other woman wasn’t Delilah. His mate.

Pushing her back, he slid off the stool and dropped to his knees with her. “Lay back.”

She rolled to her back, propped herself on her elbows, and spread her legs for him. He lunged forward, bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders. The tip of his dick nudged at her slick labia, probing for entrance. She thrust her hips up, taking him in one hard push. A hiss escaped her, but she wrapped her legs tight around his waist. “Hurry.”

“Yes.” Thanking Deus she was so wet and ready for him, he rode her like a man possessed.

Mine. His mind growled the word, but he managed to keep it from passing his lips. She couldn’t know she was his mate yet. It was too soon. Too soon to tell her, too soon to feel this way, too soon to crave her like a bliss addict craved his drug. His body and his relentless instincts didn’t care what his mind knew. The word, the claiming, pounded through him as he pounded into her. Mine, mine, mine.

“Delilah,” he breathed.

An annoying chirp sounded over his head and the small vidscreen in his kitchen lit up. The smooth, electronic female voice announced, “Incoming vid. Downlink?”

He groaned, holding himself still inside Delilah’s tight sheath as he tried to catch his breath enough to speak, to think, to react calmly when the predator inside him wanted to shred anything that interrupted his time with his mate. “Deny vid.” The chirp sounded in recognition of his command. “Store any messages in vid cache and power down for—”

“Ignore the fucking vidscreen.” Fisting her fingers in his hair, Delilah pulled his head down to kiss her. She bit him and he tasted the coppery flavor of his own blood. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, desperate little moans vibrating under his lips. He loved the sounds she made, the way they made his heart pound and his blood roar in his ears.

His hips bucked, driving his dick into her wet heat. He slid his hands under her, curving his fingers over her shoulders to hold her close. Her palms cupped his ass and pulled at him to urge him on. Hunching his shoulders, he slammed his pelvis forward. The need to come fisted deep within him, and he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. He shifted his weight to one arm, slipping the other between them to stroke her hard little clitoris.

“Hunter!” She cried out as orgasm took her, her pussy pulsing around his cock.

He exploded, the sharp ecstasy in her voice as she screamed his name shoving him past his endurance. His come filled her, and he kept thrusting until his cock went soft, wanting nothing more than to lose himself inside her welcoming heat.

It wasn’t until hours later, curled around Delilah in his wide bed, that he realized this was the first time in his life that he’d ignored his business. He wasn’t certain what it meant that his mate could wipe all thoughts of everything except her from his mind. He wasn’t certain he even wanted the answer.

He doubted he would like it.