by Lora Leigh
Grace jerked, and more of her juices spilled from her.
He needed more. A rumbled growl fell from his lips, as his tongue pierced her core again, and he allowed the tip of his nose to caress the hard nub of her clit.
“Oh God, Matthias.” She never called him Matt. He liked that. He wasn’t a Matt. He was Matthias. It was the name he had chosen for himself, the name he preferred, and she never used anything else.
“Yes.” She stretched beneath him again, her hips rolling, pressing his tongue deeper inside the clenching muscles of her cunt. “Lick me there. Right there.”
She was vocal. He liked the sounds of her passion, the feel of it. And he liked knowing she enjoyed his tongue. He licked as she pleaded, caressing into tender tissue as she gasped then cried out for more.
“Your taste,” he groaned as he pulled back, licked the outer folds once again, and then caught the spill of sweet liquid from the opening of her pussy. “So sweet, Grace. Your pussy is like nectar. Soft and sweet and addictive.”
He lifted his head again, his tongue curling around her clit, as he pressed two fingers inside the grasping depths of her pussy.
She was shaking in his arms, shuddering. Each muscle of her body was drawn tight, and her pussy was so snug he was suddenly thankful for the unique hormones that would prepare her for him. He couldn’t hurt her, the thought of hurting her destroyed him.
“Matthias. Oh God, Matthias, what you do to me,” she cried out hoarsely, as he drew her clit into his mouth.
She was close to orgasm. He could feel it pounding in her clit, in the tender muscles of her pussy and knew within seconds she would explode beneath him. He wanted it. He needed it. Sex had never been like this. This hot, this desperate. The need for her pleasure overriding the need even for his own.
When it came, growls tore from his own chest. Her clitoris, that delicate little nub of flesh expanded, swelled further, and the sweetest taste fell from it, as he felt her vagina tighten and pulse forth more of her slick juices.
The taste of her clitoral response was incredible. Slight. Fresh. New. As though no other man had drawn it forth before.
She was screaming his name. He could hear it, distantly, feel it vibrating through his soul, as this unique taste tempted his tongue. And Matthias knew he would never be satisfied, never be tempted to taste another woman again. Because nothing could ever be this good again.
• • •
Grace couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t draw enough oxygen into her lungs, couldn’t seem to find the instinct to force it in, as everything, conscious and subconscious, centered on the orgasm imploding inside her.
She shook her head desperately, fighting for air, but she couldn’t get enough. Her eyes opened wide, her chest straining as the resulting panic caused the breath to still in her chest. She had warned him. Overexcitement. It happened every time.
“Easy, Grace.” Matthias came over her, holding himself above her, one hand easing from her stomach to between her breasts with a gentle, caressing movement. “It’s okay, my love. Slow and easy.”
“Matthias,” she gasped, feeling his fingers lower to massage her diaphragm.
“It’s okay, Grace,” he soothed her tenderly, his lips lowering to her neck and pressing against the flesh there in a soft, heated kiss. “Relax, love. It will ease.”
Her hands were clenched in his hair, tight. It had to be hurting, but there was no strain in his voice, no attempt to loosen them.
“You’re so sweet, so responsive,” he whispered deeply. “I won’t let you come to harm. I swear it.”
His palm eased the horrible tightness, relaxing her, making breathing easier. As she drew sweet, clear air into her lungs, her breath caught again.
Oh God. His cock was poised at the entrance to her vagina, parting her folds, thick and hard. The shudders that raced through his body coincided with each deep spurt of heated fluid that erupted from it.
She could feel it heating her inner flesh, doing something so odd, relaxing it, yet sensitizing it further.
“What … ?” She stared back at him in shock.
“It’s preseminal fluid,” he groaned in her ear. “Hormonal. It eases the tender flesh inside, makes penetration easier. Sweet God, Grace.” He shuddered. “I need you now. Now.”
His lips lowered to her shoulder, as he began to ease inside her.
The pressure, the heat, was incredible. White hot tingles filled her pussy, causing her to lift to him, desperate to still the little fingers of sensation that dug into her muscles.
He stretched her. Then stretched her more. She could feel her flesh parting, burning with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Or was it pain so intense it merged with pleasure?
“Matthias,” she gasped his name as he worked his engorged crest slowly inside her.
“It’s okay, Grace.” The hand that had been stroking below her chest now moved to enclose a swollen breast. “Slow and easy. I promise. I’ll take you slow and easy.”
She heard the desperation in his voice, the need to ease into her rather than ravish her. But she heard the hunger as well. He was burning as hot as she, his body shuddering with the same force that was trembling through hers.
He was thick, hard, and heavy, and she needed more. Grace lifted to him, working her hips closer, rolling them, taking the shaft deeper, as a groan ripped from his throat and his hand clamped on her hip.
“Easy,” he snarled.
“You go easy,” she panted, lowering her head to nip his neck demandingly. “I don’t want easy.”
His hips jerked, burying another hard inch inside her and stretching her with burning intensity.
“God yes.” Her neck arched, her hips rolling again. “Fuck me, Matthias. Like I dream.”
“Can’t hurt you.” He was the one fighting to breathe now. “Easy, Grace.”
She twisted, digging her heels into the bed and lifted closer again. Her eyes went wide, and the blood thundering through her system went wild. Another hard blast of the pre-cum, and the sensations burning inside her increased. Her pussy rippled around his cock, flexed, spasmed.
“Hell’s fire, woman,” he bit out. “Don’t do that.”
It happened again. His hips jerked, and with a snarl he buried inside her, full length, the thick shaft overfilling her, the engorged head pressing demandingly against her cervix.
And it wasn’t enough. She needed strokes. She needed taking. She needed …
“Fuck me.” She nipped at his neck. “Now, Matthias. Fuck me now.”
She felt it coming before he moved. The muscles of his back flexed beneath her hands. His thighs tightened, then with another hard growl, he began to move.
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t a slow, peaceful loving. It was as wild as Matthias, as hot as her most wicked fantasies, and Grace knew she would never be the same.
“Like this.” His hands lifted her legs around his hips, and he sank in farther.
She could feel his balls slapping against her rear, hear the hot, wet slap of flesh against flesh, and feel the hot burn of a possession so intensely carnal it would be branded into her very being forever.
His lips were everywhere. Kisses on her neck, her shoulder. He bent and suckled her nipples with deep hard draws of his mouth, lashed them with his tongue. His hips drove his erection inside her with furious thrusts, and she accepted him with hoarse cries for more.
“So hot and sweet.” He nipped at her ear. “So giving. God yes, Grace, give to me. Take me.”
The tension was gathering in her womb again. It flexed and spasmed with the power of the pleasure racing through her now. Sensations that tore through her, stripped her control, and left her racing toward an edge of ecstasy that should have been terrifying.
Matthias groaned against her breast, his body bowed over her, his cock moving hard and heavy inside her. The fierce strokes stretched and burned and sent fiery fingers of absolute pleasure tearing through her. He fucked her with wild hunger, his cock shafting into
her with desperate strokes, as her legs tightened around his hips.
He pumped inside her demandingly, stroking and igniting flames of devouring lust. It rippled and burned through her body, left her gasping, begging for release.
Her nails dug into his back, as his lips returned to her shoulder. Sweat coated them, their moans blended, mingled until Grace’s turned to screams.
This orgasm didn’t just implode inside her. It exploded through her, tore past her body and lit her soul with fireworks. Her pussy tightened on his shuttling cock to the point of pain, as she felt the release of her juices wetting her further. Then something else happened.
She should have been prepared. He hadn’t hidden it from her. He had warned her.
She felt his release build, heard his throttled male groan at her shoulder a second before she felt his canines bite into her flesh.
There should have been pain. There should have been a rending of flesh. There wasn’t.
There was a sharp, fiery blast of sensation, as she felt the first spurt of semen, then the sudden thickening of his cock.
It thickened. And thickened. And thickened. Just in one place. Burning through the thick, heavy muscles that gripped him so tightly, exposing nerve endings she couldn’t have known existed, stretching her, secured inside her, as he shot his seed straight to the opening of her cervix.
He was locked inside her. Pulsing violently, stroking her pussy, even though he was still inside her. It throbbed with his release, the feel of the blood pounding through it, throwing her into another orgasm so violent that she didn’t have to worry about breathing, because she knew she must have died.
Nothing could be so incredible and still allow life afterward. This was the pinnacle. This was ecstasy, and she would never survive.
• CHAPTER 11 •
Matthias found himself gently massaging Grace’s diaphragm after the explosion that tore through her body. She was trying to laugh and gasp for breath at the same time, her face flushing with an edge of embarrassment.
He was still locked inside her, his muscles tight and rippling with the final spurts of his own release. His long black hair fell over his face and hid her expression, like a dark cocoon, insulating them from the world.
Tenderness filled him, as her soft gray eyes watched him with a pleasure reflected in her gaze. Her hands stroked his shoulders so gently, as his palm pressed beneath her rib cage, easing the tightness.
“That’s so embarrassing,” she finally whispered, stroking his hair back from his face, as he kept his gaze locked on her.
God he loved her. Loved her until he could think of nothing but her.
“Overexcitement,” he whispered, kissing her cheek tenderly, as he felt his cock finally, blessedly, ease in its stiffness. “And a bit of fear, perhaps?”
Her lips tilted teasingly. “You have a few aspects that are a little overwhelming,” she admitted. “But it’s not totally your fault. Sometimes, I panic a little.”
A little? Her diaphragm was relaxed now, and her breathing, though a little quick, was coming easier.
“Has it happened often since you were a child?” he questioned, easing from her, shuddering at the snug grip of her pussy as he slid out.
“Oh.” She breathed out hard at his movement. “That still feels good.”
Her hands slid over his shoulders and stroked down his chest, as he moved to lay beside her. She was a gentle weight against his chest now, one slender leg tucked between his, as she pushed his hair back from his face once again.
“It doesn’t happen a lot,” she finally answered him. “It used to happen all the time when I was little. New situations or if I got scared or excited. My dad was in the army. Every time we heard of a new battle near his area, or if he was late coming home on leave, it would happen.”
Stress, perhaps, Matthias thought as he tucked her closer to him.
“It hasn’t happened since I hit my twenties. But then again, I’ve never been so excited in my life,” she laughed, pulling her head back to stare up at him.
“Or perhaps so frightened?” he asked.
She shrugged, a wry smile on her face. “But it didn’t happen when I saw you in Albrecht’s suite. Or when you kidnapped me.”
“Because you trusted me.” He cupped her face in his hand, feeling his chest tighten at the knowledge of how much she had trusted him without even knowing it. “You knew I wouldn’t kill without reason, Grace. Just, I think, as you knew that Albrecht was all he was accused of being.”
She didn’t turn away from him now, nor did she avoid his look. “I knew,” she finally whispered. “Inside. But you still scared the life out of me.”
“Not enough to steal your breath,” he reminded her.
A soft smile from remembered pleasure shaped her well-kissed lips, this time as she shifted against him, her hand stroking down his arm. “No, it’s your touch that steals my breath, Matthias. Maybe, if we practice a whole lot, I’ll learn how to control it.”
“Hmmm, perhaps that’s the answer.” He leaned down, allowing his lips to rub against hers, to feel the passion and desire in her acceptance of him.
He hadn’t expected this. The price of keeping her wasn’t so very bad, though. No more assassinations. He could live with that. Jonas could use him at the Bureau of Breed Affairs. He had requested his help there on a full-time basis many times, and Matthias had refused. Maybe he could talk to the director about that now, see what was needed.
There were very few Wolf Breeds in the bureau. The pack leader, Wolf Gunnar, was now on the Breed Ruling Cabinet and met often with the human and Feline sections of the Breed community. The separate Breed races were slowly coming together, adapting and learning how to ensure their place in the world. Matthias could help with that. Grace could help with that. He had seen her at the hotel managing the staff. She was like a little general directing the running of the establishment.
“I think I’m hungry,” she finally sighed, as his head lifted. “Starving, actually.”
Matthias touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Then I better get you fed,” he said. “Because the heat will build again, Grace. And soon.”
Grace stared back at him in surprise, as he moved from the bed, then helped her rise as well. The surprise quickly changed to admiration. He was hard from head to toe. His body was lean, his muscles flexed with power without being ungainly.
She could understand now why her childhood panic had returned. Her difficulty breathing was due to stress, to emotional overloads, as the doctors had coined it. That was Grace, too damned emotional sometimes. She could handle watching her lover kill a suspected monster, but she couldn’t handle the knowledge that he was imperative to her happiness.
Just as her father had been. Just as the knowledge of the danger he had faced had brought on the emotional attacks.
She had thought she was over them. Her father had just retired from the army a few years before, but she hadn’t had an attack in more than six years. Until Matthias.
Because she loved him.
She shook her head as she followed him to the shower. They washed quickly, hunger of a different sort driving them now.
Showering with Matthias was a unique experience, though. He loved the water, and he hogged it. She had to push him back several times to get her share, and a wrestling match ensued for possession of the stream of water. She lost, of course, but he did hold her close enough to make certain she was both washed and rinsed from head to toe.
Then he made certain she was dry as well. By the time he finished, Grace was ready to head back to the bed rather than to the kitchen.
“Food first. I need my energy.” He inhaled slowly, his lashes lowering, as sensuality filled his expression. “Then we’ll go to bed. Perhaps we’ll even sleep sometime tonight.”
He backed her against the bathroom wall, the heavy length of his cock burning against her lower stomach, as her hard nipples raked his chest.
Grace ran her palms over his bicep
s, then his shoulders, as his head lowered, and he licked the small spot where he had bitten her earlier. Sensation sang through the small wound, a clenching pleasure so deep and hot she rose to her tiptoes to prolong it.
He was definitely a bad boy. Tattooed, pierced, and arrogant as hell. She had seen that arrogance more than once over the past weeks. But he was gentle with her. He touched her like a dream, and he kissed her like fire.
“Food,” he whispered regretfully against her lips, drawing back and staring down at her somberly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” She was so damned horny now she thought she might melt in a puddle at his feet.
They dressed in the bedroom and headed through the cabin to the kitchen.
The refrigerator was filled with cold cuts, vegetables, and cold water that the caretaker had stocked before her arrival. The freezer held a variety of packaged steaks and other frozen goodies.
She grabbed the meat from the refrigerator and some lettuce and tomatoes. Thick, fresh bread was wrapped and stored in the cabinet. She removed it and set it on the counter.
Matthias was unusually quiet as he moved through the kitchen, the living room, then back to the kitchen. His expression was somber, the way he watched her finally grating on her nerves.
“Is there a problem?” She laid the bread knife down and watched him closely. “If you’re still considering killing me, I should point out that has to be against the rules, or something.”
His lips quirked as he shook his head. “That would be worse than suicide.”
“Then what’s bothering you?” She set the bread on plates and began heaping them with meat, cheese, and veggies.
“I just thought of something.” He slid his hand into the pockets of his leather pants as he faced her. “What were you doing in Albrecht’s suite?”
“He left a message on my machine, demanding my presence. I thought I would see what his problem was before I left.”
“Why did you come back?” He was frowning curiously.