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“That finger is getting ready to get you in trouble,” he warned her softly.
Her lips flattened, then she did something he would have never imagined. Something that had his eyes widening in shock. She lifted that cute little hand and her middle finger shot up like a flag.
She didn’t have to say a word. Her expression said it all as she turned her back to him and began to move through the living room. Probably heading to the back deck door.
Oh, that was just too bad.
He jerked his boots off and let them thump to the floor as she reached the kitchen. And she kept going. His shirt came off as he moved after her, and he tossed it to the couch.
And she knew. She threw a look over her shoulder and almost managed to run a step or two. Before she made it past the table his arm hooked around her waist and he dragged her to the stairs.
And like the little hellion she was, she fought him. She kicked, she wiggled, she snarled, and he swore she bit his shoulder. But she wasn’t fighting hard enough. All that heavy breathing wasn’t just because she had her mad on. Hell no, she was as wet as he was hard, and he was betting his cock on that fact. Because that was the portion of his body that was going to fall off if he didn’t get it inside that hot little body of hers. Fast.
He couldn’t remember a time that he had been so enraged and so aroused at the same time. He could feel his muscles pumping with blood, his dick throbbing like an open wound, his balls tight with lust.
She wasn’t getting by with a single bout of anything today. Double helping, he thought. He was going to have that wet, impudent little mouth, and he was going to have that slick, heated little pussy, and when he was finished . . . hell, when he was finished, he was going to figure out how to give her what she needed and keep her safe at the same time.
But he didn’t have to tell her that yet. Hell no. She was spitting mad and clawing at his shoulders, cursing him even as he tossed her to the bed and stripped his jeans off.
Chaya tore off the shirt she wore, then the bra. She was certain the strap snapped at some point. As Natches stepped out of his jeans, she wiggled out of the leggings and panties and she was waiting on him.
His shoulders were scratched from her fury, and she was certain she would be reasonably sorry for that later, but right now, smug possessiveness curled her lips instead.
“I marked you,” she snarled at him as he stepped toward the bed.
He smiled. A slow, lust-worthy curl of his lips that had a fist punch of reaction jerking in her stomach.
“That’s okay, baby, because I’m sure I’ll mark you, too, before the night’s over. ”
She crawled to the edge of the bed and licked her lips, staring up at him from beneath her lashes and waiting. Anticipating.
“I thought of you every time I used that toy. ” She taunted him now and watched his eyes flare with wicked heat. “I sucked it until I could take it to my throat, and thought of you. I heard your groans in my head and I moaned around it as I touched myself. ”
“To your throat?” His voice was a raspy, guttural growl.
“To my throat. And I moaned. ” She licked her lips as she lifted one hand from the bed and let it run down her body. “And I touched myself. ” She touched herself now. Her fingers slid through the slick juices, circled her clit, and her lashes fluttered in pleasure.
“Did you come?” He was closer, coming closer, his hand circling the thick shaft as the engorged crest tightened and throbbed in hunger.
A small bead of pearly pre-cum dampened the tiny slit, drew her attention and her hunger.
“I came,” she teased him. “I came and I moaned, and it wasn’t enough. Because it wasn’t you. ”
And she had needed him. Needed him until parts of her had felt barren and lost.
He came closer, the head of his cock almost within reach.
“You’re going to take me to your throat, Chay,” he warned her, his voice so rough, so deep it caused her knees to weaken, her heart to pound in her chest.
“Make me, Natches. ” She smiled, then her breath caught as she raked her finger over her clit, and knew he was aware of the pleasure she was bringing herself.
One hand snaked out, catching her hair, tangling in it as he held her still. Her tongue swiped over the broad head and she moaned at the rich earthly taste of the liquid bead on her tongue. Passion infused with lust. A storm, heat and lightning. It filled her senses and drenched her fingers with her response.
Then his cock was filling her mouth. Thick and iron hard, the head throbbing violently as he pushed inside her. Chaya moaned and heard his answering growl as she did what she promised. She took him to her throat, her tongue rippling beneath the underside as she relished the taste of him.
One hand gripped his shaft, stroking it fiercely, determined to rip his control from him the same as he had managed to rip hers. Damn her, she had never given anyone, man or woman, the finger. That was what he did to her. He made her crazy. He made her insane to have him, made her want to fight and love him.
And God help her, how she loved him.
