Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling 11) - Page 92

A kiss pressed to her foot, and suddenly, she was being flipped onto her front, the cold metal of his zipper biting into her as he settled his weight over her, his c**k a hard outline. “No.” Hot denial in her ear, one big hand shoving under her body to tease and tug at her nipple. “I think I’ll be the boss today.”

Chapter 46

“RIAZ.” IT WAS a warning, her claws slicing into the sheets.

Chuckling, he laved a kiss on her nape and—to her surprise—obeyed her unspoken demand, rising onto his haunches, his thighs on either side of her hips. Just when she was about to turn over, he put his hands on her back and began to massage downward from her shoulders, his hands strong, his fingers knowing. She moaned.

By the time he got to the base of her spine, she’d given up even the vaguest thoughts of rebellion. “You have two dimples here.” A wet, luscious kiss to each that made her moan.

Apparently fascinated by the spot, he licked each dimple, rubbed his cheek against her skin. “I shaved especially for you.”

Her toes curled. “I appreciate it.” Though she was in no way averse to the rough scrape of his stubble, it melted her that he’d taken the time.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get my payment.”

Her heart thudded, every inch of her very aware she was in bed with a big, dangerous wolf who wanted to do distinctly erotic things to her. When he lifted his head, silken strands of hair sliding over her skin, she expected him to get off the bed, remove his jeans, but he stayed in place, moving his hand down to shape and caress her lower curves. “I can scent you, so wet and ready.”

The musk of the woman beneath him acted as a drug on Riaz’s senses, the slickness of her pure provocation when he circled the entrance to her body with a single finger.

“Riaz.” Not a warning this time. An invitation, her sweet curves rising to follow his touch.

Loving her so soft and pleasured, he shifted to kneel lower down her body, unzipping and shoving his jeans down enough to release his c**k with a hiss of pleasure-pain. Squeezing his turgid flesh, he fought for control, found enough to caress his hands over her hips. “Up, Empress.”

“Empress?” She brought up her knees in a fluid slide, rising so her back pressed into his chest at the same moment.

The blunt head of his c**k already bathed in her slickness, he simply flexed his h*ps and pushed into her with slow, exquisitely pleasurable deliberation. “Queen,” he grit out, fingers digging into her hips, “doesn’t seem enough.”

“Sweet talker.” His lover’s nails made tiny half-moon crescents on his thighs, her breathing ragged, her back arched, thrusting her br**sts forward in sensual display.

Growling, he reached around to close his hands over the plump mounds. “Do what you will.”

She moved on him, squeezing and releasing, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Flicking one taut nipple in a way that always made her clench around him, he slid a hand down to fondle and tease the slippery nub of her clitoris.

“Riaz!” She spasmed around him in a burst of molten pleasure that ripped a scream out of her. But when she tried to ride him to completion, he dropped his free hand to grip her thigh, halting her.

“You’re my toy, remember?” This wasn’t just about sex, and he wouldn’t allow her to forget it.

“Then play with me.” She turned her face to demand a kiss.

Pleased at her trust, he gave her that kiss, and more, petting and caressing and indulging before he dropped his hand to her cl*t again. Playing with the hard little bundle of nerves until she was grinding her body against him in wild need, her br**sts heavy and sensitive to his every touch, he took hold of her hips.

“Slow”—he lifted her off his cock, teeth clenched against the need to pound—“and deep”—he slid her back down to her long, hot moan—“and so wet.”

This time he lifted her until the head of his c**k popped out. Pushing past her passion-swollen entrance made her come around him, her muscles clamping down in feminine demand. Hands rising to squeeze her br**sts, he thrust deep, riding out the hot pulses of her pleasure. But he couldn’t come, not yet. Kissing her nape, he stroked his hands down her body to push her gently forward.

Ending up on her forearms, she shot him an amber-eyed look over the shoulder he’d bitten, her eyes hazy. That’s how he wanted her today. Pleasured and marked and knowing exactly who held the reins. Because while Adria was a dominant, she couldn’t be one in this bed. It would never work, not for either of them.

Fisting his hand lightly in her hair, he held her gaze as he pulled out, thrust again. And again. And again. Until she screamed and orgasmed so hard around him that her entire body trembled. Only then did he surrender, the orgasm all but ripping him in two.

HAVING left Naya with Lucas at the Chinatown office, Sascha glanced at the jaguar who’d driven her up when he brought the SUV to a stop near the den at around a quarter to six that night. “I think,” she said, “we all agree I no longer need a bodyguard here.” It was an implied question.

“It’s not about trust,” Vaughn responded. “It’s about showing strength. Our alliance doesn’t change the fact that we’re two predatory changeling packs.”

Sascha felt her lips curve into a rueful smile. “Just when I think I know everything there is to know about changelings.”

The amber-blond male wasn’t one of the more tactile sentinels, his reserve part of his nature, but now he rubbed his knuckles against her cheek. “Don’t worry, we won’t take back your pack membership.”

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