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His canines released her. “I control the fucking. Are you going to be good, Celene? If you are, I’ll give you what you want.”
She refused to answer.
Nace pulled out.
Celene reached her hand between her legs to stroke herself. Nace squeezed her fingers and trapped both arms behind her back. “Not allowed. Only I will make you come.”
She was so aroused, she hurt. She had never desired any man as much as Nace. “Yes. Please. Just fuck me.”
“We’ll do things my way?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what, Celene?”
“Yes, we’ll do things your way.” She added, “This once.”
Nace growled but plunged deep inside her, withdrawing to do it again. Again. No longer teasing. No longer slow or gentle. He was raw power, giving them both what they wanted. He released her arms. With one hand on her hip, the fingers of his other slid between her legs, finding her clit, circling it, rubbing the sensitive nub.
He continued the frantic drive in and out, their flesh slapping together, their slick bodies pounding against each other, his hand pleasuring her. Celene’s fingertips curled on the countertop, unable to grasp it while he hammered into her. She was at his mercy, and he didn’t have any.
To hold her still, he latched onto her shoulder again, his sharp canines breaking skin. When the pleasure of his bite rocketed through her, she screamed, “I’m coming.”
Nace increased the rhythm, hammering into her swollen pussy, sending them both to the edge. Her muscles clenched, gripping Nace’s hard shaft as he drove them toward ecstasy.
A small tremor started at her toes, growing into an earthquake when it moved through her body. She shouted his name, rocking faster while she spasmed around him.
Nace surged forward. Backward. Forward, his hips pressing tight to her ass. He shuddered, spilling inside her, roaring his pleasure like a well-fed big cat who’d taken down his prey.
After a moment, he pulled out, leaving Celene empty, cold without him inside her. Then Nace spun her, tugging her into his arms for a crushing kiss, her feet leaving the ground. When his lips deserted her, she slid down his body, seeing him naked for the first time. He was huge. Magnificent. Still erect.
You’re kidding me.
His chest pumped up and down, his skin rippling with spots just beneath the surface like those on a jaguar. She’d ask him about that. Later. Right now, she wanted round two, his golden eyes glowing with unsated lust.
He backed her against the counter. When she tried to slip off her top and skirt, he shook his head. “No. I like you this way.”
Half-clothed and feral herself, she curled a leg around his hip. With his hands cupping her ass, he lifted her, her skirt still bunched at her waist, her shirt pushed above her breasts. She grabbed his rigid shaft and guided it to her opening, rocking forward to take him deep.
She moaned. “Again.”
He growled, already surging into her.
Celene didn’t serve the chicken until about two hours later. By then, she was almost too weak to eat, her muscles aching in a good way. They ate because Nace told her she had to keep up her strength.
When she complained she was swollen, Nace licked his lower lip with his tongue. “Cats know how to fix the problem. You’ll enjoy it.”
She dropped her fork.
Damn sexy jaguar.
Chapter Twelve
Indigo slid her dagger from its sheath and ran a thumb across its sharp edge. She was thirty-thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean in a ginormous privately owned luxury jet provided for by Roark’s deep pockets.
She resisted stabbing the succubus whose finger was playing with the shifter’s thigh. The female who’d insisted on flying human-style from New York’s LaGuardia airport claimed a fascination with all things transportation. More likely, she was obsessed with all things Roark and looking forward to hours of skin time. He didn’t seem to mind.
Luxury was an understated description of their rented jet. No rows of narrow, uncomfortable seats. Instead, wide leather chairs, comfy sofas, and a sprinkling of tables lined the cabin. Toward the front of the plane, Lynretta snuggled closer to the male-in-question, her digits tiptoeing across his muscled, denim-clad leg. Squeezing the succubus’s hand to flirt or to stop her march toward his crotch, he unfolded from his seat and strode toward Indigo, a sexy, confident grin in place.
