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She felt Beck’s insanity seeking a place to go. Rage poured into
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p; her brain. For a second, she was suffused with it, but instinct took
over. It was odd. She could push it out of her own mind. It was almost
as though she was a filter for him. The rage swept over her. It was so
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Sophie Oak
powerful that she was shocked Beck hadn’t killed everyone. He
kissed her as his rage moved from his mind into hers, and then like a
faucet that had been turned from cold to hot, it was replaced with
desire. It raced through her body like a wildfire, and this time, she
didn’t try to filter it. She wanted this feeling. It was completely
different than anything she had experienced before. This wasn’t the
sweet, slow arousal she normally experienced that typically led to
nowhere. This was a blazing aggression that she knew would end with
a dominant, overwhelming pleasure. This need would not be denied.
Meg sighed and gave over to Beck when she realized that what
she was feeling was his arousal. He wanted her, needed her. It was a
desperate thing. He was starving for her, and everything female in her
needed to feed him.
Meg tightened her arms around him, reveling in the hard feel of
his muscles. His hand slipped inside the gossamer bodice of her robe
and closed over her breast. His thumb brushed the nipple. She cried
out against his mouth. He was hot to the touch.
“You feel so good.” Beck’s voice was a low growl, and there was
an almost drugged quality to it.
Meg’s hands went to the front of her robe. She felt how much it
would please him to see her. He wanted to look at her breasts and see
her pussy. He wanted to lay her bare and fuck her until she couldn’t
remember a time he wasn’t inside her. She couldn’t hear his words,
