His eyes closed as emotion threatened to swamp him. Fuck, he didn’t deal with emotion. It wasn’t his damned strong suit. In the labs he’d been created and trained within, he’d learned to let no one but Brim know his weaknesses. To let nothing touch himself. To never feel regret. To never know possessiveness. They were lessons that had been taught to him in the most exacting of ways. Lessons he had adapted to, too easily at too young an age, supposedly due to his Coyote genetics.
They had rushed in on him the first time he had seen this fragile young woman though. Gently rounded, she wasn’t exactly slender. She was a nice handful for a man. Some might have accused her of being a little heavy. But she was perfect for him. With her rounded little rear, her plump br**sts and silky thighs. He could hold on to Anya. She wasn’t skin and bones, nor was she muscular and hard. She was just soft. Soft and warm. And she was his.
He let his hand smooth down her hair with the lightest touch as he ignored the heavy, desperate throb of his cock. He had learned how to push that pain back over the months. It wasn’t easy, but being able to hold her, being able to warm the ice that often tormented his insides, was worth it.
For the first time in over eight months, Del-Rey felt warm. He wasn’t willing to give that up. Yes, he was going to have to put his foot down. She would sleep here, or he would sleep in her bed. Sleep. Hold her. He couldn’t demand anything more. He wouldn’t demand more. But by God, this he was determined to demand.
CHAPTER 6
She was warm. So warm she felt toasty and relaxed all over. Well, almost relaxed all over. There was that pesky arousal she couldn’t seem to get rid of in the past months. The dampness between her thighs, the ache in her clit, hard ni**les.
And she had worn her bra to bed for some damned reason. She hated wearing a bra to bed. She would wake up enough to take it off, but that would mean pulling out of the pocket of warmth she had managed to find, and she wasn’t willing to do that.
She shifted closer, and realized she had to be dreaming again. Because it wasn’t a furnace she was hugging, it was a hard, clearly aroused male body.
Her lips tilted at the corners. She must be surely desperate to be dreaming this well. She hadn’t dreamed like this in, well, days maybe. But she had never been warm in those dreams. She had been cold and frightened, confused and begging him to help her. To warm her, while he stared at her in confusion.
Del-Rey.
She still had moments when she was amazed that such an incredible creation had ever touched plain, plump little Anya Kobrin. Her father had always told her she was mother material, and that one day she would find a good man that would appreciate that in her. The men she knew went for the tall, slender, beautiful women. Not the short, plump ones like her.
But from the moment she had first met Del-Rey, when she was around him, she didn’t feel plump or plain. She had felt excited and warm, tingling all over. At sixteen she had had her first seriously sexual dream, and they hadn’t stopped.
So yes, this was definitely a seriously whacked dream, because Del-Rey wouldn’t be holding her. He hadn’t held her after he’d had sex with her that first and only time, and he wouldn’t be merely holding her now to keep her warm. Not with that erection she could feel pressing between her clenched thighs.
He was just as large as she remembered, she thought with sleepy wonder. So thick and heavy. She’d felt every rasp of every bulging vein in that wide shaft as it pushed inside her that night. The pleasure/pain of it had been nearly more than she could stand. The shocking events that came later, though, had nearly thrown her into a catatonic shock.
He had been large already, but as he’d begun releasing inside her, another secondary swelling had grown in the middle of that hot, hard cock. He had knotted her. Animal genetics had kicked in like a bitch—that’s how Dr. Armani had explained it.
It was part of the mating heat. Part of the changes that occurred in both male and female once mating occurred. It was something the world wasn’t aware of, and something Anya knew wouldn’t help the Breeds if it were known.
She let herself touch him. She was asleep, and this was her dream. She liked this dream better than most too, because she could feel the warmth of his body. She could pet him as she wanted to.
Wouldn’t the big, tough Coyote Breed alpha be shocked to know that she longed to pet him? Even when she had hated him the most, she had been on the verge of begging him to just let her touch him, let her share the warmth of his body.
Her hand smoothed over his shoulder, his biceps. Timid fingers tested the hard muscles beneath tough flesh. She stroked down his arm as it lay over her hips. She let her nails scrape over his skin, enjoying the ripple of response beneath her touch.
Okay, that was a new sensation in her little dreamscape. She didn’t normally feel that.
Beneath her lips, more warmth beckoned. The taste of salty male flesh met her tongue as she licked over a hard pectoral muscle. A response rippled there as well, tightened beneath her tongue. She liked that. This dream was incredibly more satisfying than any other.
She thought perhaps she heard a groan or a growl, and filed it away to think about later. Would he growl when she touched him? She doubted it. He hadn’t wanted her touch before, just her kiss. He hadn’t wanted foreplay or warmth, just the main event.
She pouted at the thought, and for damages ensued over the months, she nipped at his flesh, just to be contrary. Her dream lover would love that little nip.
And he did. He definitely growled. A sound of rough pleasure as his arms tightened around her and his c**k twitched between her thighs.
That hard flesh was pressed against her sex, heating it as his hips moved, pressing it deeper between the notch of her thighs. He hadn’t bothered with just pressing against her belly. Nope, the dream Del-Rey was just as arrogant as the one she knew when she was awake. He had just gone ahead and pushed between her legs as though it were his right.
Arrogant Coyote.
Sometimes, she liked that arrogance a little too much. She didn’t like admitting it. She intended to take that secret to the grave with her, because she didn’t care what her father said to excuse Del-Rey’s actions, she wasn’t willing to excuse his lack of trust in her.
She had trusted him. He should have trusted her.
And he should have cuddled her after f**king her, it was just that simple, rather than mounting her like he’d bought her off the streets and couldn’t bear looking her in the face.