Lion's Heat (34 page)

The tests conducted on her and Jonas went quickly, smoothly. Within a few hours, she was back at the cabin, trying to rub away the discomfort that still lingered on her skin from the effect of Ely's and Elizabeth's touch as they examined her.

Amber was tucked in her crib, resting comfortably in the room next to Rachel's office. The sitter, Erin, rested in a chair next to the crib and read one of the stack of books she kept in the room.

The Breeds were readers. Even Jonas had hundreds of books stacked on shelves throughout the cabin. Sanctuary boasted a well-stocked library, in addition to the extensive collection in Buffalo Gap.

As Rachel paced her office, she tried to ignore the steadily burning ache in the core of her sex. She was becoming so aroused it was almost painful. And the strangest part was the need for the taste of Jonas's kiss. Her mouth watered for it.

She was torn between pacing the floor and worrying about Amber, and walking into Jonas's office, tearing him from the computer and forcing him to fuck her.

Her eyes closed at the thought as she paused beside her desk. She wanted to ride him. She wanted to straddle that hard, muscular body and work his heavy cock inside her.

No. First she wanted to ride his lips, his tongue.

She swallowed tightly. A kiss first.

First she wanted his kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth, spreading that taste she needed so desperately, then she wanted the rest of it. All of it.

Amber appeared fine. It was her scent, and according to Jonas, Leo and Dane, the change was so slight that it could well be the changes that came from the changes in her body as she grew. It could be an effect of Jonas's scent on her, and the fact that he was now Amber's mother's mate. It could be a variety of reasons.

She didn't have to worry right now. And though she could never put it completely out of her mind, her body was forcing her to concentrate on Jonas.

Her body was demanding her mate now. It was demanding his kiss, his touch. His possession. Mating heat had picked a hell of a time to kick in. She felt besieged on all sides. Fear and worry for her daughter, emotions for Jonas that she wasn't always certain how to handle, and facing a future that had no chance of true peace or safety. At least not for decades to come.

She was trying to decide if the fact that she may be there in those future decades was a good or bad thing. According to everything she had been able to find out, the aging retardation had been tracked at one year per decade. In a hundred years, she will have aged only ten.

Because of the mating heat. Because of the need amplified within her body, digging heated claws into her womb and filling her clit, her pussy, with such raging hunger that it was impossible to deny.

And the urges that hunger fed into her.

She rubbed her hand along her lower stomach, feeling her womb flex, clench. It wasn't just the need for sex. It was a need for complete intimacy. The need was overwhelming, wild. It was as primal as the claws that had retracted from the tips of his fingers.

"Rachel."

She opened her eyes to see him standing in the doorway to his office.

Her breath caught audibly now. She could no longer hide her response to him. Her pussy flooded with her juices, the memory of the pleasure he could bring her racing through her system.

She didn't feel like herself. She felt those urges she had always kept carefully restrained rising inside her, trying to break free.

Rachel had always been perfectly happy being the peace-maker, sitting back and playing it safe while she worried incessantly about her wild sister.

If she had felt a need for adventure, she had always tamped it down quickly. Diana was wild enough for both of them, and she was smart enough, confident enough, to survive those adventures.

Watching him now as he moved slowly across the room, she was once again reminded of the animal he was. So powerful. There were times he seemed invincible.

His eyes were narrowed, living mercury roiling in the darkened features of his face. Hunger and emotion filled that gaze. Emotions she hadn't yet learned to decipher, but felt she was growing closer to the answers.

"You had only to come to me," he growled as he reached her, caught her hand and began drawing her to the entrance of the main house.

Pausing, he turned back.

"Erin, Rachel and I will be unavailable for a while," he called out to the sitter.

"Yes, Mr. Wyatt," Erin called back, no hint in her tone that she knew what was going on, though Rachel knew she must.

When he turned back it was to draw her from the office wing to the residence and then through the kitchen, living room and into the bedroom.

And she followed him. She followed him as her heart beat with a primal, desperate rhythm. As hungers she'd always fought began to tear through her mind and body.

She couldn't get that need out of her mind. The need to go wild on him. The need to claim what was hers.

As the bedroom door closed, he turned to her, his nostrils flaring as he stared down at her with something akin to surprise.

She intended to give him much more to be surprised about.

Lifting her hands, she flattened her palms against his chest, parted her lips and drew in a hard breath.

"You look so civilized in silk," she murmured.

Pushing her hands beneath the charcoal jacket, she pushed it slowly back from his body, her lashes drifting lower as she heard the soft rasp of the material as it slid from his shoulders.

That sound sped through her senses, racing through her bloodstream as it fed a fiery heat straight to her nipples, her clit, the clenching muscles of her pussy.

"Civilized?" He continued to watch her, his nostrils flaring as he drew her scent in. "I don't think I've ever heard that word attached to me, Rachel."

She licked her lips, her hands smoothing down his chest once more to grip the edges of his shirt.

"I didn't say you
were
civilized," she breathed out, her voice rougher, filled with hunger, with a need she didn't want to hold back any longer. "And in a second, you won't look civilized either."

She smiled. Naked. She wanted him naked, wanted him hard and hot and as wild as she was.

CHAPTER 19

This was the woman Jonas had always sensed inside Rachel. The mate who would shake his world up, who would bind his heart and soul and leave him willing to worship at her feet.

He'd once thought his mate would have to be a female Enforcer. And if human, perhaps a woman like the lawyer Jess Warden, or a fighter like Rachel's kamikaze sister. He'd never imagined his mate would come in a short, calmly quiet, coolly efficient little package. A woman who could handle him in ways that he'd never been able to control others.

He felt her fingers tighten in the edges of his shirt, watched her eyes as she tore the buttons from their moorings and nearly snarled at the raging excitement reflected in the darkening green irises.

She was the perfect lady whenever, wherever she had to be. But now, she was a woman prepared to take her mate.

His hands lifted only to be pushed aside.

"Don't touch me," she ordered as she pushed the tattered edges of his shirt from his arms. "Let me undress you."

Hell. He didn't know if he could do that. He didn't know if he could stand calmly, idly by and simply watch his world being reshaped by this woman's hands. Hell no, he wanted to participate.

He would give her what he could though.

He stood still, his fists clenching as her hands ran down his bare chest, her fingertips raking over his flat nipples as that seductive, siren's smile shaped her lips.

A second later, her nails were rasping down his abdomen, sending spikes of incredible heat to tighten his balls and throb through his dick.

"This is a dangerous game you're playing," he breathed out roughly. "You may not be able to handle what you unleash, mate."

She looked at him from beneath her lashes as her fingers worked loose his belt.

"Take your shoes off." The commanding tone had his eyes narrowing, the animal raging inside him, demanding that he force her submission.

He had no intentions of making her surrender. Her surrender wasn't what he wanted. This was the woman he wanted.

He pushed the expensive shoes from his feet as he watched her, felt her fingers loosening the clasp of his slacks.

"I want to take you." She leaned forward, her tongue licking over his chest and causing his teeth to clench in furious arousal.

Then he felt the sharp edge of her teeth at the side of one nipple, sinking into his flesh in an intimate, searing little bite.

His body jerked, pleasure rioting across his nerve endings at the feel of her teeth biting into him, her tongue tasting him. His hands came up to touch her, to grip her shoulders, to pull her to the bed.

"No!" Her hands caught his wrists.

She was so delicate. There was no strength in her hold, but clear purpose stopped him instead.

Staring down at her, he had to force himself not to take her, not to dominate the sexuality rising inside her.

"This is mine," she told him, her brow lifting in challenge as he watched her. "Do you really want to miss it?"

Hell no!

He lowered his arms, watching as her small hands went back to the clasp on his slacks and slowly undid it.

His cock couldn't possibly become harder, thicker. Yet he swore as she began pushing the slacks over his hips it did just that.

He wore no underwear. Breeds were created and raised for years without clothes, and adapting to them wasn't easy. Underwear was something they preferred to do without. Now, he almost wished he wore them.

His cock sprang free, agonizingly hard, thick, the broad, heavy crest flushed and damp.

The silk slacks fell down his thighs, his legs, to pool at his feet as he forced himself to stand in place.

Rachel stepped back then.

"I've had the most incredible fantasy since the first time I laid eyes on you," she whispered in a voice so sultry it raked over his senses like pure sex.

"And what would that fantasy be?" His voice was so rough, so dark, he almost winced. Then it was all he could do not to widen his eyes as her fingers went to the buttons on her shirt.

One by one, slow and easy, those buttons slipped free. She pulled the ends from the skirt she wore. A silk skirt. Jonas liked silk. It ended just about her knees, barely covering her incredible thighs.

He did so love his mate's thighs.

Once the blouse was pulled free, with a little shrug and jerk of her shoulders, it pooled to the floor, leaving her clad in a next-to-nothing bra, which barely covered the full, luscious mounds of her breasts.

Tight, hard nipples poked against the sheer lace covering, tempting his lips, the glands that immediately swelled beneath his tongue and the hungers raging through him.

The animal snarled, causing his lips to draw back, the claws to prick at the tips of his fingers, though they didn't retract.

Her hands moved then, too slowly, to the zipper at the side of the skirt. It rasped down, the sound filling the room. A second later it dropped over her thighs, slid to the floor and stole his breath.

Innocent, white low-cut panties matched the bra. Silk stockings ended at those gorgeous, well-rounded thighs. Pretty, cream-colored stockings, which almost matched the panties and bra. But on her tiny, delicate feet were wickedly high black heels.

Her hand stroked over her smooth stomach. There were only a few tiny, almost-impossible-to-detect marks from her pregnancy. They were marks he wanted to kiss, to stroke with his tongue.

"You didn't tell me what the fantasy was." He cleared his throat.

Jonas stood his ground, wondering now what his delectable little mate would come up with.

She stepped closer, her breasts almost touching his chest as her hands stroked up his thighs, those diabolical nails scraping over his flesh once again before raking along the inner thighs and sending flames wrapping around his balls.

His cock felt tortured now, so hard, so desperate for release he had to clench his teeth against the agony.

"You were on television," she murmured. "So handsome, so very civilized." A single nail raked over the tight sac of his balls, causing his breath to break with the extremity of the pleasure. "When the reporter turned to you, your tongue almost licked your lips nervously. It peeked out just the slightest, and I swore I nearly had my first orgasm."

Her fingernails rasped over the shaft of his cock. He was going to die of pleasure before he ever had the chance to come.

"I was a teenager." Her breath blew against his chest. "And I wanted to do something I had heard my friends snicker over. I wanted to sit on your face."

Jonas flinched, a growl tore from his chest unbidden. He was reaching for her, ready to lift her and give her exactly what she had fantasized about.

Before he could grip her arms she bent, licked over his cock, froze him in his tracks, then drew the flushed, straining crown into the heated depths of her mouth.

She licked, sucked. Her tongue swirled and tasted and tightened his entire body with the most incredible pleasure that he had ever known.

When he was certain he couldn't hold back, when he felt the release building in his balls, tightening through his body, her mouth was gone.

She straightened. Her eyes were a moss green, dark, vivid. Hunger swirled in them, flushed her features and gave it the sweetest, spiciest scent. The lush moisture of the juices spilling between her thighs had him jealous of the lace covering the delicate folds.

Before she could demand he stop or evade his move, Jonas had her on the bed, on her back. His tongue plunged in her mouth as he felt those nails prick at his shoulders. He shoved his thigh between hers, pressing hard and tight against the wet mound of her pussy as he pumped his tongue in her mouth, feeling her trying to trap it, suckling the mating hormone from it as his lips moved over hers.

She was his. He would allow her to stake her claim, to have her fantasy. But first, he would stoke that wildness inside her, make her burn and make her take what she wanted.