He could taste her release on his tongue. Sugar and fire. Earth and air. He licked his lips as he pressed a kiss to her hip, then nipped the sweat-dampened flesh with his teeth.
He couldn’t wait. His head was filled with the taste of her, with the scent of her. It called to him, teased him, tempted him.
Moving over her, he gripped the base of his throbbing c**k with one hand. He’d spilled the slick pr**cum to the bed as she exploded beneath him. He was amazed he hadn’t shot every ounce of cum from his body as she screamed his name.
“I’m burning,” she moaned, her head twisting on the sheets as she stared up at him, panting for breath, perspiration dampening her forehead, her hair.
Her eyes were slumberous, brilliant in her flushed face as the mass of red gold curls cascaded around her.
“I’ll ease you,” he promised.
He would ease them both. The hunger was clawing at him now, brilliant red-hot sparks of need exploding up his spine, traveling to his tortured balls as he pressed her legs farther apart and moved to her.
He prayed for control. His erection was thicker than she would have known with a human lover. Coyote and Wolf males were cursed not just with the knot that would lock them inside their mates, but also with a heavier, thicker shaft. As though they wouldn’t frighten their mates enough to begin with.
“Anya. Look at me, baby. Look at me.”
Her eyes opened again, brilliant, dark within her heat-flushed face.
“We’ll go easy, I swear it,” he groaned, allowing the head of his c**k to press against the tender opening.
His teeth locked together as the first pulse of heated fluid erupted from the tip. Rich with the mating hormone, it pulsed inside her even as he fought to hold it back.
“Oh God, that feels so good.” She arched closer, pressing him deeper. “Like it’s burning me, easing me, making me crazy for you.” Her gaze sharpened. “I don’t like crazy, Del-Rey. I like control. You know I like control.”
He did. He knew this.
He cupped her cheek with one hand, feeling his chest clench in agony. “I know, little love. You want control.”
There was no control here, for either of them. But he remembered that now. He should have remembered eight months ago. His Anya was always composed. Even with that brilliant red gold hair and the fiery temper that could light her eyes, she had always maintained control. And there was no control amid the mating heat.
Her breath hitched as another pulse of fluid filled her and a sound, nearly a sob, escaped her throat at the feel of it.
She shuddered beneath him as her hands gripped his biceps, her nails digging into his flesh as he eased farther inside her, his teeth gritting at the too tight grip of her silken flesh.
“Oh. Oh, Del-Rey.” She lifted to him, her lashes lowering as he pressed deeper and a growl tore from his throat.
He felt every ripple, every convulsive tightening of her pu**y around the crown of his cock. It was like sinking into pure ecstasy the pleasure was so violent.
The pulsing pr**cum came faster now; each spurt was another thread broken on the thin expanse of his control. His patience was wearing; the need to drive into her was eroding his every sense.
“Anya.” He laid his head against her shoulder, continuing to work himself inside her, his teeth clenching into the sheets rather than her tender shoulder as his instincts demanded.
Slow and easy. He repeated the refrain inside his head. Control. Patience. No taking. He couldn’t take this time.
He jerked, his head lifting as a snarl of furious hunger exploded inside him. His hips jerked, driving his c**k inside her deeper.
It was rapture. It was incredible. It was pleasure that tortured his dreams and his waking hours with the same driving force. The memory of this. Of Anya, slick and tight, clenched around him like a milking fist.
“Yes. Oh yes.” Her hips jerked to him. “More. More now.”
His head lifted as he fought to breathe, staring into her enraptured expression as her nails bit into his arms. Her neck arched, her hips rolled beneath him, working him in nearly to the base of his cock.
He couldn’t maintain this, he knew he couldn’t.
“Look at me, Anya,” he snarled. “Open your eyes.”
If she didn’t open her eyes, he would never hold on to the control he needed. He had to see her. He had to remind himself he was a man, not an animal. He was loving his coya, his other half. His woman.
He had sworn if he ever had the chance to touch her again, he would hold on to his control. He would show her the pleasure, not the fear.
“Look at me, Anya,” he growled again. “See me, damn you. Hold on to me, and there will be no fear. I swear. No more fear.”
CHAPTER 15
Anya’s eyes opened, dazed, almost unseeing as she tried to focus on Del-Rey.
She was lost in the sensations whipping through her now. The feel of him, huge, hard, sinking into her as the heavy pulses of pr**cum continued to spurt inside her.
It would, until he was fully seated, she knew. And then the pleasure would only burn brighter. This was the part that had begun the nightmare the first time. This raging need, the way she clenched around the thick length of his cock, her hips moving frantically, desperate for more.
But this time, he was facing her. When he had taken her before, he had turned her to her stomach and lifted her hips, giving her nothing to hold on to. She’d had no sense of warmth, no sense of the man taking her as she did now.
“Anya.” His breathing was ragged, his broad chest moving with rough breaths as sweat eased down the side of his face. “I can’t—”
He shook his head, his eyes clenching before they opened once more and focused on hers.
His jaw clenched as his hips jerked, driving that last inch of his heavy erection in to the hilt. Anya felt her breath ease from her body for precious seconds. She was filled, overfilled. She was burning and so desperate for more that she wondered if she would survive it this time.
Swallowing tightly, she fought to stare into his eyes. As black as midnight with the faintest hint of blue. As though the color hid within the darkness, a shadow of light to hold her to him.
“Ah hell.” One hand clenched her hip, the over buried in her hair as he braced his elbow at her shoulder. “I can’t.” He swallowed tightly. “I can’t hold back, baby.”
“Don’t hold back,” she panted. “Just hold on to me.” Her voice broke. “Hold on to me, Del-Rey. Don’t let me get lost.”