For years he had awakened in a nightly sweat, his c**k spurting as he dreamed of being surrounded by the wet heat of her ass, her muscles clenching on him, holding him tight inside her as she took every inch of his c**k and backed into him for more. What had always confused Jacob was that it wasn’t his cum he was spurting. The fluid was slick, the amount not overly large, but enough to worry him. Unfortunately, there was no explanation for that one in the letter.
He breathed wearily, his eyes falling on the empty beer can as he grimaced. No more alcohol for Faith. The side effects sounded pleasant, though he doubted her system needed the added burden. His c**k had twitched in anticipation as he read that part of the letter, but he instantly rejected using such means to control her lusts. The first time he had touched her, taken her, had been due to the potency of the drugs pumping through her system. Next time he took her, he wanted no outside influences, no side affects, and no drugs.
He rose from the table and went to her. Hunching down beside her, he stared into her delicate face. Her lips were parted, damp and tempting. Her auburn lashes lay thick and long on her cheeks. Her high cheekbones and slanted eyes gave her a mysterious, seductive appearance.
“Faith?” He allowed himself the pleasure of gently moving a strand of silken hair from her cheek, letting his finger caress the silk of her skin.
He wondered if she still used the lotion he had started her on when she was barely a teenager. Wolfe had managed to take care of the details of it, but it had been the precious hoard of money Jacob kept hidden that had bought it. Expensive, non-scented, but with enough moisturizers to keep her skin satin smooth.
He had always marveled at the creamy tone of her skin. She wasn’t dark skinned as the males of the pack were. She had a perfect peaches and cream complexion, beautiful and so damned seductive she took his breath. Feeling the silken texture now, the warmth and resiliency of her skin made his blood heat at the thought of tasting her, running his lips and tongue over her.
“Faith?” He whispered her name again.
She didn’t answer, merely breathed in deeply as though his voice somehow satisfied her.
“Wake up, baby,” he whispered. “You make me carry you to bed and I might end up f**king you in your sleep.”
She licked her lips and breathed in softly, but didn’t wake. He could sense the weariness filling her. She was dead tired. Exhaustion, alcohol and nerves. Jacob shook his head. At least she was too tired for the lusts that Wolfe warned could accompany the alcohol. Evidently, the Felines had been studying the mating anomalies of their Pride while the Wolf Breeds were just fighting for survival.
Damned cats, he growled silently. He had met with their Liaison, Tanner, several years before. A cocky, arrogant feline intent on causing nothing but trouble. His kidnapping of an influential Council member’s daughter had nearly caused an international incident. His mating of her had caused trouble for the Feline Pride as well as the Wolf Packs.
Sighing wearily, Jacob rose to his feet then picked her up from the chair. She grumbled a bit, but tucked herself into his chest and sighed again. She was too light, too easy to carry. Wolfe said she had lost weight recently, and it appeared it was weight she could ill afford to lose.
Holding her securely in his arms, he went up the wide staircase and into the bedroom beside his own. The large bed, draped with mosquito netting, was perfectly made in case of company. The servants came in daily and kept everything prepared.
He pulled the light comforter and silk sheets back from the pillows and settled her on the bed. He had intended to let her sleep clothed, to let her undress herself, anything but do what he knew he was going to do.
Jacob had to forcibly still the trembling of his fingers as he finished pulling the shirt from the waistband of her jeans. The small buttons slid easily from their moorings, the soft fabric parting, falling over her stomach, but catching at her br**sts as the last button slid free.
The backs of his fingers slid over her skin, flesh as soft as the finest silk with a soft glow of creamy perfection. Lifting her up, he slid the shirt from her body as a muted moan whispered past her lips. She shifted in his arms, causing the hard tips of her ni**les to brush against his shirt, burn through to his chest.
He laid her back on the bed, staring down at the full, ripe mounds of her br**sts. They were swollen and firm, the ni**les peaked and hard. Breathing in carefully, his hands went to her jeans. The snaps slid free easily, the material parting and revealing the tender skin of her abdomen. Taking a deep breath, he moved to her boots and managed to unlace them without tangling the strings too badly. He returned to the jeans then, they slid from her body easily, leaving her clad only in a triangle of damp, peach colored silk. Her legs shifted, and in the dim light he could easily see the plump lips of her cunt, and the moisture that had soaked through the fabric.
Jacob swallowed tightly. He could smell her arousal, just as he had for the last hours. It swelled his cock, made him drunk on his need for her. He knew if he didn’t get away from her, if he didn’t leave the room, he would touch her. And if he touched her, Jacob knew he would f**k her. Reaching across her, he dragged the comforter over the perfection of her body.
“Damn,” he muttered, turning away from her. “Damn it all to hell.”
She was worn to the bone and he knew it. So tired that she fell asleep sitting up, her head pillowed on her arms as she tried to rest, and all he could think about was f**king her.
* * * * *
Faith heard his curse, and watched from beneath lowered lashes as he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. A tear slid from the corner of her eye before she managed to blink the others way.
She turned on her side, curling into a ball as she fought the arousal pulsing through her body. She was so hot, she pushed the blanket from her body, and wished for nothing more than an air conditioner, preferably set on the lowest temperature possible.
Damn him. Would it have hurt him to touch her, to have eased the agony that the sight of him created? She sneered at herself. As though she wanted to beg him again, only to have him leave before he could ease the suffering. She had survived without his touch, without his c**k for six years now, she would survive the rest of her life without it.
Her hands were still clenched in anger, and the dark, vibrant need still pulsed through her body. Her vagina ached, a physical, almost painful emptiness that haunted her. She needed to get away from Jacob, and get away from him quickly, before she made more of a fool of herself than she already had.