Authors: Lora Leigh
His eyes narrowed further. His hips flinched, driving him no further, but forcing his cock to caress the stretched muscles it now possessed.
“There is victory in the attainment,” he assured her.
“Is there?” She ground her hips against him, succeeding in tormenting herself further, but also causing the flush that mantled his cheekbones to deepen as the pupils of his eyes flared. “Could I defeat you, Jacob?” she cried out, no longer able to still the urgency that pounded demandingly through her body.
She needed to touch him, to taste him. God help her, she would give him whatever he demanded for that alone.
His breathing was hard, heavy now. His own control becoming shaken. Tears rose in her eyes, her body surged with the knowledge of his dominance at this moment. His experience was more than she could fight. More than she could deny.
“Let me touch you,” she screamed out finally. “Six years I waited on you. Damn you, let me touch you. I am yours. For now, Jacob, I am yours.”
His cock pulsed, buried inside her an inch deeper as he groaned out roughly, fleeting confusion crossing his face.
“Always mine,” he whispered roughly.
“No.” She shook her head, fighting the need to lie, to give him whatever he demanded, if only for the moment. “For now. Yours for now, Jacob. You cannot defeat what cannot fight back. Where is your victory? Where is the belonging when it is taken?”
She jerked against his hold, her legs tightening at the small of his back, fighting to force his cock inside her, to feel the pinch, the separation of her aching pussy.
“Damn you,” he bit out roughly, his voice darkened with exasperation and an arousal as hot as her own.
But he released her hands, his palms sliding up her arms then beneath her shoulders, holding her in a gentle vice. He lowered himself against her, his expression filled with a wariness, a hesitancy, as though releasing his hold on her was an alien concept. Alien and not entirely comfortable.
Faith wasn’t about to give him time to rethink the decision. As he moved to hold her close, her hands flattened at his hard stomach.
“I want to touch,” she cried out. “Touch as you touch, Jacob.”
Her hand moved over the perspiration-dampened flesh, her hips undulating against him as a hard, tortured growl ripped from his chest. Her vagina clenched on the scant inches buried inside it, and though he refused to bury more of his length inside her, he allowed her hands to smooth down, over the tight muscles of his abdomen, lower to the damp width of his cock.
Her fingers smoothed over the pulsing flesh as his hand moved to her breast, the fingers tweaking a painfully hard nipple. She arched, moaned for more.
“Give to me,” he demanded. “I have not forgotten what you must pay to receive your pleasure, Faith.”
The words were distant, a warning, a growling threat she chose to ignore. His release of her did more than free her hands. It freed the agonized, howling lust that had been chained inside her for six years. Her mouth went to the smooth muscles of his chest, just above the dark, male nipple that had drawn her attention earlier.
Her mouth opened, her lips moving over the area, her tongue licking, flickering over the salty male skin as his head dipped closer and he licked the mark along her neck. Sensation piled atop sensation. Her pussy gushed, her clit felt explosive as she arched to him. Then, unable to deny herself further, her teeth raked his skin, her canines scraping the flesh as his did similarly to her neck.
Before Faith could think, halt herself, or explain the compulsion, she allowed the sharp points of her teeth to draw blood, her mouth clamping to the wound as he jerked, cried out, his own teeth and mouth re-possessing the area he had marked at her neck. She could feel her body screaming, agonized cellular wails of an arousal so destructive she felt as though her head would burst. Her tongue swiped, her mouth sucked at the wound, the glands at the side of her tongue pulsing, releasing their moisture as her saliva was laved over the primitive scratches.
Heat built around her as Jacob’s mouth caressed her neck, his tongue cool, then hot, his mouth sucking at her as her hands went to his back, her nails digging into the smooth taut flesh as he suddenly cried out hoarsely.
His hips bunched, his hands caught her hips, then he was surging hard and hot inside her. Her body bowed as a soundless scream came from her throat, her head falling back from his chest as she fought for breath.
He didn’t pause. All control was gone, an inferno raged between them now. The sound of his cock plunging into the frothy slick tunnel of her pussy echoed around them as she fought for breath. Then his heated groans mixed with her desperate scream as his flesh raked the swollen bud of her clit and sent her body into a rioting orgasm so intense her teeth locked onto his shoulder. As the first pulse of her release began, she felt his teeth as well lock onto her shoulder as his cock began to swell, harden further.
The unbearable tightness grew, stretching her cunt tight, driving her climax so high, so hot her body felt blistered, singed by the surging wave of fiery pleasure/pain tearing through her. Her eyes were wide open, but she could see nothing but the bright flares of her body burning, exploding as the hard pulse of his cock echoed through her body. His hips continued to jerk against her, lodging the swollen shaft deeper as he released the hot, jetting streams of his sperm deep inside her clenching channel moments later.
His hands held her hips still as she shuddered and writhed beneath him. She was unable to catch her breath, unable to find a hold on reality as she spiraled out of control. Deep, hard explosions shaking her body, destroying her last grip on reality as he cried out her name, shuddering as hard in her arms as she did in his.
Then with one last pulse of his cock, one last hard tremor of her own release echoing through her body, Faith gave herself up to the exhaustion, and finally, the satiation of her primal lust.
* * * * *
The couch was wide, but still a tight fit with Jacob’s body. He turned on his side, holding Faith tight in his arms and finally rested against the back of the couch with a weary sigh. He was drained. So damned exhausted he didn’t really want to breathe.
She drained him to the point of no return. His lips lifted in a grin, surprising him with the lightness of the feeling inside him. He felt free, which was confusing to him. Even after the escape from the Labs, Jacob had never felt completely free. Until now.
He looked down at her sleeping face, his hand lifting so he could smooth his finger over the gentle flush along her cheekbone. Damn, her skin was soft. The finest silk, sheened with a satiny glow that never failed to mesmerize him. He loved touching her, feeling her against his body.
His hand smoothed back her hair, drawing several stray strands from her face. It was soft, thick and silky. Every part of her amazed him. To him, she was the most perfect creature God had ever assembled. And she was his. A small, compact little bundle of fire and heat that warmed every part of his body, inside and out.
He tucked her closer as he dragged the light blanket throw from the back of the couch and flipped it over them. He allowed himself to relax, his eyes closing as exhaustion claimed him. She was his now. He smiled as he slipped into sleep. He should have no further trouble from her, he thought in satisfaction. Surely by now she knew his dominance over her. She would submit as easily in all matters as she had in this one.
He frowned then. She had submitted, hadn’t she?
Chapter Thirteen
The incessant beeping of the phone finally roused Jacob from the deep sleep he had slid into. He rolled over on the couch, instantly missing Faith’s warmth, the heat of her body curled against him. Frowning, he looked around the darkened room, then growled as the phone refused to stop ringing.
His shoulder still tingled, a pleasurable warming, reminding him of Faith’s new bloodthirsty tendencies. Those cute little canines were sharper than they looked. But along with the tingle, he could also feel his cock thickening, hardening with the thought of having her beneath him again, locked tight and hard inside the snug volcano of her slick cunt. He would have to find her first. He frowned as he looked around the room.
The dress still lay in silken disarray on the floor, the torn thong several feet from it. Jacob’s jeans were thrown over the coffee table, his ripped shirt was half under the couch. Everything was there but Faith. And that damned phone was driving him crazy.
He stumbled to the tall walnut cabinet, jerked open the door and pulled it off the hook with a violent motion.
“Hello?” he barked, his eyes moving around the room, wondering if Faith had gone to bed without waking him. Surely, she would have wakened him to join her.
The muted sounds of raucous laughter filtered through the receiver.
“Jake, its Hawke,” the weary, wary voice identified itself.
Jacob shook his head. Hawke was supposed to be miles into the jungle, not at a damned bar.
“Why the hell are you calling? And why are you bar hopping? You aren’t supposed to be anywhere near a town.” Irritation flared inside him.
“And I was heading out, I really was,” Hawke assured him easily. “We had to wait on some supplies and extra ammo, and we were heading out of town when I just saw the most amazing sight.”
Jacob’s stomach dropped. His trouble barometer peaked.
“Such as?” Jacob asked carefully.
“Well, this pretty little auburn-haired spitfire rode up to the bar on a beauty of a black cycle, just like yours. Dressed to kill and happy as she could be, she walked right in as though she owned the place.
“What?” Fury pulsed, raged. She had sneaked out on him, damn her to hell. He was paddling her ass for sure.
“Right now, she’s parked in front of a pot of Columbia’s best, and a pitcher of the finest brew she could sweet talk the bartender out of. And ole son, let me tell you, a fine piece of ass dressed as soft and silky as she is tonight, can talk a man out of some prized brew. She has the best in the house, on the house, and a table surrounded by many male admirers.”
Jacob didn’t wait around to hear more. The phone was jammed back on its base. He jerked his jeans on, then ran upstairs and pulled a fresh shirt from the closet, pulling it on hastily. He pushed his feet into leather sneakers without socks and he rushed from the house. The garage was open and the motorcycle was gone. He groaned. Hell, it would be gone for sure by the time he got there. No way would that baby escape the thieves that regularly hung around that particular place. Saldora was a hot bed for the worse dregs that any society could offer.
He dug the SUV keys out of his pocket and within seconds was roaring out of the driveway as the gates slowly swung closed behind him. He pushed the vehicle as fast as he dared down the dangerous track, cursing Faith every bone jarring, back breaking bumpy inch of it. He cursed her loudly, violently. Damn her stubborn ass. Did she think this was a game?
More hormones than common sense, the words jumped through his mind. He would give her some common sense right fast, in the form of his hand applied to her well-rounded ass. Better yet, his cock, tunneling into it hard and fast until she screamed the knowledge of his dominance. He would be damned if he would let her get away with this.
What the hell had happened? He had spent hours fucking her into exhaustion. Hell, she had nearly passed out on him again when he finally locked inside her that second time, his body shuddering violently with his release. Where had she found the energy to sneak out like that?
Pack leader or not, Wolfe had a hell of a lot to explain next time Jacob saw him. Like why he neglected to inform him that the once placid, almost timid Faith had turned into a damned hellcat. The transformation was destroying him and his self-control.
He roared into the no parking area in front of the bar, jerked the keys from the ignition and jumped out. Rage bubbled through his veins like an effervescent explosion of mini nuclear bombs. His heart raced with it, his muscles were tight, violence surging through him.
Jacob stopped just within the door and snarled. The sound was so primal, so lethal that the patrons close enough to hear beat a hasty retreat out the swinging doors he had entered. And there was his Faith. Dressed to kill in a pair of snug silk knee pants and a sleeveless yellow blouse. And she was wearing sandals. Sandals that showed her delicate feet, her pretty, perfect little toes with their rounded nails that were painted a hot, fire engine red. When the hell did she start painting her toenails? Dammit, this was not the Faith he remembered.
But then again, the Faith he remembered had never seen high heels, nail polish or silk. Still, some things should stay constant. Faith’s adoration, and her soft shyness were two of the things he had thought would never change.
Hawke and Danson were standing against the wall behind her, watching stoically as men crowded close, their eager eyes watching in amazement as she drank alternately from a cup of steaming coffee, and what appeared to be a chilled pitcher of beer. Dammit, Ramirez, the bartender never served chilled beer. He shot the bartender a dark, furious look, satisfaction flaring inside him as the other man paled slightly.
He would take this up with him at a time when there was no danger of ripping his throat out. Right now, Jacob knew if he confronted the man, he would kill him.
The only thing saving the lives of the bastards milling around Faith’s table was that she ignored them. She was sitting back lazily in her chair, her legs crossed at the ankles as she tipped back a mug and finished off the last of the dark, potent brew that filled it. She breathed in deep, fighting the grimace that wanted to cross her face.
“About time you got here,” Hawke bit out as he walked over to Jacob. “She’s put away a pot of that damned coffee and almost a full pitcher of beer. What the hell did you do, cut her off?”
Jacob shot him a brooding look.
Hawke sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose then groaned roughly. “Man, do you even imagine the hell I went through when Wolfe ordered me to lose her damned vibrator? You don’t cut Faith off of her necessities, man. She has her needs. I survived the vibrator, barely. I still have the scars in payment for losing the damned backpack. You just can’t do this shit.”