With a dramatic hand to her chest, she scoffs. “I’ll have you know that was all talent, baby. You’re just jealous.” She taps the end of my nose. “And you never told me what my prize was.” She climbs on top of me, straddling my waist.
Our connection electrifies, buzzing with heat. My fingers wrap around her hips, squeezing tight. She plucks the hat off my head and places it on top of hers.
I growl in approval. She looks so damn good up there with my hat on. Wrapping my arms around her, I flip us until she’s on her back. My eyes shift to their natural red hue, my fangs breaching my gums, showing my mate my want.
“You look too good in my hat.”
“Maybe I should get my own.”
I snarl, not liking her in a hat that isn’t mine. “No. If you wear mine, it’s another way for me to stake my claim.”
“Oklahoma.”
“Nariko.”
“Oklahoma,” she sounds unimpressed. “There isn’t any other way to claim me. You’ve marked me. I’m pregnant.”
I lick up her throat, groaning when my tongue swipes over her pulse. I love feeling the beat, the rush of blood teasing me with the perfect dinner at the right temperature.
“There’s always another way, and I’ll always find it.” I pepper kisses along her throat, controlling my desire to feed. “Let’s play a little game.” I suck her earlobe into my mouth, and I’m gifted with a sweet gasp that escapes her lips. “I ask you questions, and if you answer them correctly, we take a piece of clothing off.”
“We?” She rubs my shoulders, her desire plucking at the bond, adding to my need. “No one loses?”
“Where would the fun in that be?” I growl, nipping at her bottom lip. “Question one: What is the scale that categorizes how strong a tornado is?”
“Hmmm,” she pretends to think, tapping her chin with her finger. “I don’t know. That’s a hard one.” Humor glimmers in her eyes.
My hand drifts up her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her stomach.
“The Enhanced Fujita Scale.”
I lift her shirt, tugging it over her head, and lay it over where the roof peaks. “My mate is so smart.” I kiss up her chest, kneading her breasts through her black bra.
“I thought you said”—she gasps—“that you’d take clothes off too. That was the deal.”
I lift up, giving her a crooked smirk. “How could I forget?” I tug my shirt off next, lightning veining across the sky at the same moment.
The glow illuminates Nariko’s face, her attention locked on my torso.
“Fuck. You’re so beautiful.” I graze my knuckles across her cheeks.
Her palms glide across my abdomen. “You are too,” she replies, and I’m able to see the warmth creep into her cheeks when the next bolt of lightning flashes.
“Define a wedge tornado,” I state, slipping her bra strap off her shoulder, showing bare, smooth skin.
I can’t help myself. I bend down and kiss the elegant curve, my tongue flicking out to taste the sweat on her skin. The breeze is warm and humid, not giving us any relief to cool the burning desire infiltrating our system.
Pulling the cups of her bra down, I curl over and suck a hard nipple into my mouth, rolling the morsel between my fangs. I add pressure, a slight sting that has her back arching and her fingers tugging on my hair.
“I…I…most…” She tries to answer me and fails as I tweak the other nipple between my thumb and index finger.
“Most, what, Sugar?” I become too impatient, unclasping the button of her jeans.
“A wedge tornado is most likely very strong and violent. They are wide at the base and…”
I cut her off by grinding my hard cock between her legs, thrusting hard enough to roll her clit, and she cries out. It’s muffled by the loud, piercing booms the storm releases.
“And what?” I moan, realizing this little fucking game isn’t going to last long at all.
