Captive Of The Warg, (Wargs of the Outland #2)

The Mating

Reia's body jolted as he ran her through. She bit down on his shoulder, her nails marking his large triceps with sharp half-moons.

"Make no mistake, woman," Bayne rasped against her throat, "there will be no fucking this night." He pressed his nose in the crook of her neck, breathing deeply. "Bid me again tomorrow and I'll oblige." His hips pinioned her to the bed, his cock rooted deep. But he gave no sign of moving, except to trail languid kisses along her neck and jaw.

He relinquished his hold on her hands, moving to brush her long braid aside so he could sweep his hungry mouth over her collarbones and chest.

The tension in her body faded as the tide shifted from pain to pleasure. She rolled her hips against him, back arching. The small friction of his chest against her tight nipples effervesced through her body straight to her toes. He withdrew partway, catching her mouth as her body shivered. Then, with a rumbling groan, he slid back in. With each unhurried stroke, the pleasure swelled in her sex, her blood like a torrent rushing to her head.

But he was so large, his chest a wall of muscle. And for a moment, her mind impinged out of nowhere. With him impaling her to the mattress, despite how gentle he was being, she had a sudden need to regain control.

"I want to be on top." She softened the command with a light nip, catching his underlip between her teeth.

He answered with an appreciative growl and held her in place as he rolled onto his back so that she straddled him. While she watched on, he unraveled her braid and fanned her hair out. It hung like a curtain over her shoulders and down to her hips. He seemed to take great pleasure in parting that silver curtain, his hands unveiling her breasts. "I like you better here," he said, sliding his fingers over every inch of her chest. "Magnificent."

The word was hushed, reverent. It called up a sudden heat to her face and left her unable to speak. Magnificent. That was exactly the word for him. Her eyes ate up every dominant inch of him. Every ripple of male muscle. Every cord of strength he held in check. For her.

In this position, he was seated inside her far deeper. She caught her underlip between her teeth, her body stretching around his steely length. All the while, his thumbs grazed her nipples, testing the weight of her breasts in his palms.

His touch had her biting her lip harder, shooting hot sparks and flurries across her skin. She didn't want to lose her head with him, but it was so hard to stay focused. Hard to be lucid with him sheathed like this. Unyielding as steel yet warm as silk. She could feel his pulse beating inside her!

The small hurt subsided beneath all the pleasure puckering her skin. His soothing touch, by degrees, waxed a heady fever where the pain was waning. With unexpected tenderness, he'd managed to strum her heart into a ravening gallop.

The steel of him was fast sharpening the steel in her.

Dropping her head to the side, she breathed his scent in. She let it fill her nose, the dark smoky mystery of him. The pine-fresh strength of him.

Her fingernails glided around his pelvis, his body jolting quietly. She took her time admiring his wild-hewn body beneath her, torso carved like stone. She let her fingertips trace the thick cut of muscle over his hip. He kept himself still, letting her body acclimate to his. By the flexing muscles in his abdomen, she could tell that it was costing him.

She glanced up to see his eyes aflame, fixed on where they were joined. A fresh wave of desire flooded her core. A gasp stuttered from her lips as she sank deeper. He filled her impossibly.

The throbbing below shifted into a different tempo—a disparate, decadent throb. It was too irresistible. Arching herself into his palms, she rotated her hips, testing the feel of him. A flowing movement that had his hands dropping to her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. His eyes drifted shut, his luscious mouth parting as she continued to move and slide against him.