Primal

by Lora Leigh; Ava Gray; Jory Strong; Michelle Rowen

  “Are you wet, Kita?” The dark male growl in his voice sent a shiver chasing up her spine.

  She realized then why she loved his voice. It was strong, fierce. A dark, heavy sound, like a great jungle cat prowling around her.

  Except Creed had a way of making her feel a hell of a lot more than that edge of fear she felt around the big cats. And so much more than the wariness she had felt around several of the Breeds she had come in contact with over the past years.

  He made her feel alive. He made her realize she was more sensual, and more alone, than she had ever realized before.

  “You’re not answering me.” His head lowered, his lips brushing against her cheek. “Are you wet?”

  She shook her head as she fought the mesmerizing cadence of his voice.

  “No?” The edge of amusement in his voice had her heart skipping a beat. “So, if I can manage to get my hand inside those snug jeans of yours, I won’t find you slick and hot for me?”

  His free hand moved to her waist, then to her hips before his fingers found the snap of her jeans and played with it teasingly.

  The backs of his fingers brushed against the bare flesh of her stomach beneath the short hem of her light sweater. The warm caress, as delicate as it was, had her nipples tightening, throbbing as she felt her lashes becoming heavy, a sensual drowsiness stealing over her.

  “Why are you doing this?” She needed to think right now. She had decisions to make, a life to build. “Why did you follow me?”

  “Why did you run from me?” His head lowered until his cheek was beside hers, his lips at her ear, the warmth of his breath caressing the delicate shell. “Didn’t I warn you not to run from me, Kita?”

  He had, she remembered it.

  “You’re dangerous to me,” she whimpered. “We both know it, Creed. I can’t handle you.”

  He would break her heart. She wasn’t the casual sex type; she’d learned that in college. She needed the commitment, the monogamy. She needed to feel as though she belonged, and she hadn’t found that yet. Or at least, she hadn’t felt it until Creed. From the moment she’d met him, something inside her had clicked, had opened a part of her sensuality that she hadn’t known existed.

  “How do you know you can’t handle me?” A gentle, heated nip at her ear caused her to jerk against him, a breathy little moan leaving her lips as she stared at the wall across from them and fought to steal back just a few of her senses.

  But it wasn’t happening. He wasn’t going to let it happen. In the next instant, the snap of her jeans parted.

  FOUR

  Creed watched her eyes and felt that irritating itch just beneath his tongue as the snap of her jeans parted under his fingertips. His palm flattened against her lower belly, his fingers tucked just above the warm pad of her pussy.

  Sweet, feminine heat wafted to his nostrils, intoxicated his senses. She made him almost drunk on the scent of her arousal, on the knowledge of the sweet, feminine hunger that assailed her.

  He’d never experienced anything like this. Mating heat was still a relatively mysterious phenomenon to those Breeds who hadn’t yet mated. They recognized the altered scents of mates. There was an awareness of certain unnatural changes, a lack of aging, or at the very least a slowing of the aging process. But the unusually heated scent of mates’ arousal was infused with something so deep, so emotional, the unmated found it impossible to process.

  Mated couples made the unmated highly uncomfortable because they exuded a sense of emotion wholly unknown to unmated Breeds, a sentiment that went far beyond loyalty or brotherhood.

  As Creed let his fingertips caress the soft flesh of Kita’s stomach, felt her heavy breathing, scented the sweet heat of her pussy, he now understood the deep emotion of the mated.

  Over the past year, he had come to know Kita, to sense her, growing ever closer to her, never realizing he was falling in love with her. Until now.

  Now, staring into her big brown eyes as his fingers moved slowly lower, aching to touch her slick head, Creed realized that in the past months, he had been placing Kita even above Jonas’s orders.

  “Creed.” The whispered plea on her lips tore through his senses as his lashes drifted to half-mast, her features flushing with a delicate pink of needy hunger.

  A second later he found the soft, delicate curls just above her clit. They were warm, and lower, God, lower, he swore he could already feel the moisture he knew was gathering on the soft folds.

  God, he wanted to kiss her.

  His gaze dropped to her soft lips, the way her tongue peeked out and flicked over them. He wanted to take her, taste her hunger and her need. Taste the delicacy of her mouth before running his tongue down her neck, along her breasts, her tight nipples, before finding the luscious heat awaiting him there.

  “Kita.” He pressed his forehead against hers, swallowing and tasting the hint of cinnamon that eased from the swollen glands beneath his tongue. “We need to go a little more slowly.”

  Yet his fingers were just a breath from her clit, pausing, aching to stroke the tight knot of nerves that hid within the soft curls and tender folds of the woman he held against him.

  “Okay,” she breathed, but she didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she pushed against him, her hands tightening on the material of his shirt as though to hold him to her.

  She had no idea who he was. She had no idea what he was. A Breed, an enemy of her father, and once he kissed her, there would be no way to hide it.

  His fingers slipped farther, touched the hot kernel of her clit, and he lost it.

  He was a Breed, he wasn’t a robot. He couldn’t touch her, couldn’t want her with such hunger and not take what was being offered to him so enticingly, so willingly.

  “Creed, kiss me.” The plea slipped from her lips and tore past what little control he had left.

  “Kita, you don’t know who I am.” He fought to breathe in something more than the hot scent of her.

  She moved against him, her clit stroking over his fingertips as he told himself he had to reveal the truth to her. Ordered himself.

  “I dream of you,” she whispered then. “Do you know how I fantasize about you, Creed? I touch myself and try to pretend it’s you. I’m tired of pretending. I know you’re the man I hurt for.”

  His head turned, his lips lowering to her ear where he nipped at it in sensual retaliation or in approval, he wasn’t certain which.

  “It may hurt worse,” he groaned, “if I kiss you.”

  “Nothing can hurt worse.”

  Her head tipped back as his moved. He told himself he had only wanted to see her face, to move from the too rich scent of her arousal where his had rested, too close to the heavy vein pounding at her neck.

  Her lips were there, brushing against his, sending a surge of lust tearing through him and a pulse of the hot, rich elixir held in the glands of his tongue.

  Jerking his head to the side, Creed lifted his free hand and quickly jerked the cosmetic disguise from the canines at the sides of his mouth.

  If she noticed what he had done, she didn’t give a sign of it. When he returned, his lips covering hers, she gave to him. Her lips parted, a soft moan passed her lips, and Creed took full advantage.

  The animal inside, repressed from far too many years of covert work, rose inside him with a savage, internal growl, and he gave her the kiss that a male Breed can only give to his mate.

  A dark, wicked, primal kiss intent on binding her, holding her, on mating her in the most savage sense.

  KITA HAD NEVER been given a kiss that made her hungrier. She could be aroused. She had been aroused many times, by several men.

  Until this kiss.

  She hadn’t believed a kiss could be sexy, that it could fire the senses and pull her deeper into her arousal.

  Until this kiss.

  Creed’s head lowered, the thunderous gray of his eyes ensnaring her gaze as she felt a heavy, sensual lassitude overtake her. Her lips parted involuntarily, her lashes fl
uttered as she fought to keep them open, and her heart began to race in heavy, erotic excitement as the finger at her clit exerted just the slightest pressure at the moment his lips brushed against hers.

  The touch, though oh so subtle, was like heat lightning. A small gasp escaped her lips, giving him the perfect invitation to more fully lower his head and take possession in a way no other man ever had.

  Confidently, teasingly.

  With his tongue, he traced the curve of her lower lip, then drew it between his teeth, worrying it with sensual precision; after one last small nip, he bestowed a flicking lick that had her lifting closer to him.

  Between her thighs his index finger stroked, pressed, subtle in its destruction and sexual favors.

  Kita could feel herself shaking, trembling. There was such a sense of need, of hunger rising inside her, she wondered she wasn’t crying out from it.

  She wanted his kiss.

  A full, seductive, melting, lust-arousing kiss that would burn her to the tips of her toes.

  She had read about it.

  She had dreamed about it.

  She had sensed it had to be out there. After all, where there was smoke, there was surely fire, and even teenagers swore they had experienced the perfect kiss.

  One that was primal.

  One filled with hunger.

  A kiss they couldn’t resist.

  In that second, his lips covered hers. Parting the desperate curves, his tongue slipped inside in a teasing kiss against hers, retreated and came back, as her arms lifted to twine around his neck and hold him to her.

  His kiss became deeper still, and as a hungry growl vibrated against her lips and the arm slipping around her back tightened, Kita finally found that kiss she could lose herself within.

  A subtle hint of cinnamon met her taste buds as his tongue licked at hers once again, his lips stealing her senses and her control. This time, this kiss, was that intimate stroke of fire and ice, lightning flaring through her senses, heat wrapping around her body. It was everything she had ever heard a kiss should be.

  His arm wrapped around her, strong and warm, so strong. There was no breaking that grip. There was no way she wanted it broken.

  Tightening her arms around his neck, she tilted her hips, pressing the hardened bud of her clit more firmly into his fingers as she felt him pushing her tighter against the door.

  This should have happened sooner, she thought distantly. She would have never run if she had known she was running away from this.

  The deep drugging kisses burned like fire in her soul, obliterating any thought of protest, any need to protest. Sensation traveled through her nerve endings, exciting them as nothing in her life had before. Before Kita realized she was moving, she was rubbing against him, desperate to get his fingers lower, to fill the emptiness inside her.

  Nothing mattered but getting closer to him, to fulfilling the promises he made with his lips, with his tongue, with the hungry inhuman rumble of a growl that vibrated in his chest.

  That sound was a warning, and one she chose not to heed. To heed it would be to pull herself away from him. It would mean relinquishing the warmth and the tidal wave of sensations he’d unleashed within her.

  “Kita.” Marked. Hungry. That sound sent a shiver racing through her nerve endings.

  Digging her nails into the material of his shirt, she was on her tiptoes, arching into him. Feeling his cock pressing against her abdomen, she tried to get ever closer, his fingers curving, pressing lower, rimming the clenched opening of her pussy as she gasped and tried to draw more of the luscious, rich taste of his kiss to his tongue.

  “Kita.” The hard, dark groan as he pulled back from the kiss drew a protesting cry from her lips.

  Struggling to open her eyes, she stared up at him, her breathing hard and rough as she swore she could still taste him. She ran her tongue over the lower curve of his lip, almost moaning at the heated taste of cinnamon and spice to be found there.

  Then the breath whooshed from her lips. Her back arched. Pleasure became sharp, all-consuming, as she felt two, hard, broad fingers pierce the clenched, tightened opening of her pussy.

  Ecstasy began to build in her bloodstream, whipping through her system and spasming through the inner muscles of her vagina as it gripped his fingers in reflexive response.

  Hard fingers slid up her back, tangled in her hair, and dragged her head back as he stared down at her savagely.

  “Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” His voice was so dark, filled with the same hunger that gleamed in his eyes. “I could take you, Kita. I am going to take you. Every sweet, soft inch of that tight pussy.”

  Oh hell, she was going to come. Sensation slammed into her womb, through her pussy, tightening it further as she felt her juices surge between his fingers and her vaginal walls.

  “Why wait?”

  She’d managed to surprise him. She could see the surprise in his eyes.

  Then Kita got the surprise of her life.

  His lips pulled back in a grimace, flashing the very defined, wicked, animalistic canines at the side of his mouth that proclaimed his animal genetics.

  He was a Breed.

  Her eyes widened. His narrowed.

  A growl rumbled in his throat as his fingers surged deep inside her, curved, and pressed against a hidden, too sensitive spot with one, two little rubs that destroyed her senses.

  She was already primed for him.

  She was already ready to go over that edge into oblivion.

  She hadn’t expected this. Considering all she had heard about the Breeds, she shouldn’t have been anything but terrified. So terrified that fear should have been her only possible response.

  Instead, she felt ecstasy.

  Rapture.

  A hard, guttural cry tore from her lips as an orgasm tore through her body.

  It exploded in her clit, her pussy, then whipped through her womb and drew the rest of her body bow tight.

  The wailing, desperate cry that fell from her was a sound she had never made before. It came from the very core of her being, as though the pleasure, a pleasure like none she had ever experienced before, had taken control of her senses.

  Clamping her thighs around his hand, she tightened her pussy on the fingers that still caressed, still rubbed that primal spot inside her. Starburst radiated through her brain.

  “Creed.” His name was a sound of agonized pleasure as she felt the breath still in her chest for long, precious moments.

  She wanted to feel every sensation. She wanted to know it, to memorize it. She wanted to lock it inside her and keep it with her for the rest of her life.

  Because there was no way she could keep Creed. There was no way the Breed holding her could be the man she had longed for, the man she had ached for all these months. There were was no way her father’s enemy could ever love her.

  As the pleasure began to dim, reality took its place, forcing back the fantasy as she slowly regained her senses.

  His fingers eased from the grip she had on them.

  His cock still pressed against her hip, hard and fierce, the heat of his flesh seeming to radiate through the leather of his pants.

  Thunderous gray eyes were nearly black, perspiration dotted his forehead, and his chest rose and fell with his harsh breathing.

  And only one question could resonate through her mind.

  Why?

  FIVE

  “Don’t try to run again. You won’t make it far.”

  Kita stared at Creed, her father’s security specialist for the past year, and oh so obviously no more than a plant by the Bureau of Breed Affairs.

  Sitting in the chair across from him, she crossed her legs, propped her elbow on the padded arm, rested her head against her palm, and just stared at him as he sat on the couch across from her, leaning forward, forearms braced on his knees, his eyes locked on hers.

  “Now don’t you just look like the disgruntled kitty,” she drawled mockingly. “Or is that pooch? Fe
line, wolf, or coyote?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Feline. Lion.”

  Her lips pursed in a vague imitation of thoughtfulness. “I must be top priority if the director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs sent one of his lion enforcers to play babysitter for the past year.”

  His lips thinned. “I wasn’t your babysitter.”

  Her brows lifted. “Well, you weren’t parked on my father’s ass, so I rather doubt Jonas Wyatt had you babysitting him. So tell me, Creed, why were you there? Information? To simply keep tabs on us? Or were you there to kill one of us when the time was right?”

  He sat back slowly, his arms crossing over his chest as his expression became set in cool, unemotional lines.

  He wasn’t there to kill her, and he wasn’t there to kill her father.

  “Information.” She sighed. “That’s why you’re there, isn’t it?”

  “Then why am I here instead?”

  “Dad sent you?”

  “You were calling him ‘Daddy’ before,” he pointed out, and in the shadows that crossed his face, she could have sworn she saw a hint of anger in his gaze.

  He had no right to be angry with her. If anyone had a right to be angry, she did.

  “What I call him is none of your business,” she informed him with a mocking roll of her eyes. “He sent you?”

  He shrugged at the question, and she took that for a yes. It was the only reason he would have followed her.

  “When are we driving back? I can’t leave my car here.”

  “We’re not going back just yet.”

  How interesting.

  Kita continued to stare back at him, wondering at that feeling of heated moisture between her thighs.

  Damn him, he kissed like a fucking sex god. Like her greatest fantasy. He had done what others had failed to do. His kiss had only fueled her need. Then he had done what two other lovers hadn’t even managed to come close to. He’d sent her into orgasm. And he had managed it with only his kiss and his fingers. Other men hadn’t even been able to do it, no matter the grunting efforts they’d put into it.

  SHE WAS GLARING at him.

  Creed narrowed his eyes as he tried to read her expression.