But she wasn’t his coya. That power, that privilege, had been taken from her. She was his bedmate. In the eyes of the world, and now in his eyes as well. Because the benefits she would have brought to his life as anything more had been stripped from her with a single memo.
She was crying inside as his lips pressed against her neck. Crying as the familiar need began to burn low in her stomach, began to curl through her body and rage through her nerve endings.
And still she couldn’t deny him.
As his fingers lifted the hem of her shirt, drawing it over her head, she couldn’t deny him the touch he sought. When he turned her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers, she couldn’t deny him the kiss she needed herself. The taste of him, that little bit to hold on to. A part of himself he couldn’t steal from her, simply because nature demanded that he take satisfaction from her alone.
Her arms twined around his neck; emotion seared her insides. This man was her life; every ounce of her belonged to him, no matter how much it hurt. She had realized that in the past two days. He owned her. She, who had sworn she would never be owned, was owned by this man, this Breed.
“God yes,” he growled as she softened against him. “Hold me, Anya. Hold me close, baby.”
His flesh seemed to warm against her, hers heated beneath his touch. She pushed her shoes from her feet as he released her jeans and drew them over her hips.
She grew hungrier for his kiss, desperate for this connection. The one thing that couldn’t be stolen from her, that couldn’t be taken.
She was sinking beneath the waves of pleasure as he pulled back and turned her, pressed her along the desk until her fingers were curling against the broad forearm he laid beneath her head.
He surrounded her. Not like that first time, when he had just been behind her. As he bent her over now, he surrounded her. His lips were at her neck, licking, biting, sending flash flares of heat surging between her thighs as she felt the crest of his c**k tuck against her.
“I need you.” He nipped at her neck. “I need you until I can’t breathe for the need. Until I’m dying inside for you.”
Her chest tightened, ached at the emotion in his voice, the torment that filled them both now, bound them, held them together.
One hand gripped her hip as he turned her head to him, took her lips and worked the thick length of his c**k inside her. Slow, steady strokes filled her flesh. He stretched her, burned her until she was gasping against his lips, her legs parting farther, her lips and tongue moving against his in a kiss that bound her spirit to him.
“So sweet. So giving,” he groaned into their kiss before taking her lips in a hungry exploration that mimicked the firm, delving strokes of his cock.
He stroked nerve endings so sensitive from the pulses of pr**cum that she burned for him. He touched her, inside and out, he held her to him, his hips bunching, moving, grinding into her as the spiraling sensations of need began to tear through the last barriers of control she possessed. The last barriers against the emotions twisting inside her.
“Hold me, Anya.” He tore his lips from hers, embracing her fiercely as he made the male demand.
His c**k dug inside her, deep, burrowing thrusts that had her gasping, pleading for release. Her muscles clenched around him, spasmed, milked him as she felt herself climbing higher, always higher. She burned in his arms like wildfire and couldn’t halt the destructive force of it within her mind.
It tore aside any chance to remain aloof, from the man or from the pleasure. Both wrapped around her, spurred her own hungers.
She pressed back, opened herself and screamed out his name as she felt his lips, his tongue, the scrape of his teeth against the mark he had left on her flesh.
Shudders worked through her body. Her ni**les ached as the lace of her bra rasped them; her clit was burning, throbbing mindlessly for release as he pounded into her from behind.
Shaking from the need, she gripped his arm as she felt his other hand move between her thighs, as though he sensed, as though he knew this position alone wasn’t going to afford her the relief she needed there.
“Love me again, Anya.” His head pressed against her shoulder. “Please, baby. Love me, just one more time.”
His palm covered the hard bud and ground against it. Quaking tremors of response began to build inside her. Warmth surrounded her now, every part of her. It moved inside her, heated the cold spots and eased the agony that resonated through her soul.
She loved him. She loved him until nothing else mattered, until she was lost inside him and she knew she would never fully escape.
“Love me,” he whispered again.
The pleasure built inside her until it was a whirlwind. Until it raced through her blood, centered at her clit, in her vagina. Until she was exploding with a force that lifted her to her tiptoes and had her teeth biting into his arm as he sank into the bend of her shoulder, his tongue lashing at the mating mark as she felt him swell inside her.
Agonizing throbs of pleasure tore through her. Perspiration dampened both of them, and between them rioting flames of release seared across their nerve endings.
She was shaking in his arms. Shudders that seemed to go to the bone trembled through her as she felt the deep jets of his se**n pulsing inside her. Filling her. Completing her until she knew that living without him wasn’t possible. Existing without him wasn’t going to happen.
Anya heard herself whimper as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed long, long minutes later. He finished undressing her, undressed himself, then moved over her.
“I need you again.”
He was still erect, still hard.
Her thighs parted as she felt him move inside her, working slowly into the swollen tissue as they both cried out at the pleasure of it.
“Sweet Anya,” he groaned as he filled her.
Dely-Rey had never known pleasure as sweet, as rich as f**king her. Sliding his c**k inside her, feeling her pu**y clench and tighten around him, those convulsive, sucking little motions destroying his control.
The scent of sweet female cream and male lust filled the air as his lips feathered over her lips, then moved to her tight, hard ni**les.
She arched to him as he sucked first one, then the other of the hard tips into his mouth. He drew on the tight tips, feeling her nails digging into his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his hips.
This was what he needed from her. All of her. All of her centered right here, in his bed, taking him, needing him. Loving him.