Breeds: The Breed Next Door Part 8

"You are my mate. It's my place to protect you." He fairly snarled the words, lifting his lip to display those wickedly white incisors.

"It's daylight, Tarek," she pointed out as though speaking to a young child. Sometimes, men responded to nothing else. "I'm safe, sweetheart. I'm just gonna walk across the lawn."

"You will not." He stepped toward her.

And of course, she retreated.

The look on his face a.s.sured her that he was done ignoring her arousal and now ready to do something about it. Of course, the erection straining beneath the loose fit of his sweatpants pretty much a.s.sured her of that on its own.

"Tarek, these strongman tactics are going to p.i.s.s me off,"

she bit out, irritation surging through her. "I don't like it."

"So?" His lips tilting in a mocking smile. "Tell me, mate, how will you stop it?"

Cool male confidence marked his features.

"I'm really going to hurt you," she muttered, frustration surging through her because she knew there wasn't really a d.a.m.ned thing she could do.

She could call her brothers.

But that wouldn't really be fair. Would it?

No, she decided, this one she had to handle on her own.

She backed up again as he moved closer, her eyes narrowing on him.

"I am not ready to have s.e.x with you yet," she stated imperiously as she tried to escape into the living room.

He smiled. A wicked, sensual smile that had her p.u.s.s.y weeping. d.a.m.n him.

"Aren't you?" He stalked her through the large room, her gaze moving around the heavy furniture, taking in the clean masculine lines and nearly clinical sterility of the room. There wasn't even a picture.

"No. I'm not."

Oh but she was. it was beating through her veins and pounding in her chest. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were tight with the need for it, her p.u.s.s.y clenching in hunger.

He stopped as she edged around the heavy cherry wood coffee table, watching him warily.

"You make me want to smile," he whispered then, his eyes filled with warmth, with longing. "Even as stubborn as you can be, you make me want to smile."

Her heart melted. Now, dammit, how was she supposed to stand her ground when he said things like that?

"Now is not the time to be nice, Tarek," she snapped, infuriated at him.

"But I want to be nice to you." He used that whiskey-rough voice like a caress, and it was much too effective for Lyra's peace of mind. "I want to be very nice to you, Lyra. I want to lay you down on that couch, spread your pretty legs, and show you just how nice I can be to you. Wouldn't you like that, baby?"

The heat in the room jumped a hundred degrees. She could feel perspiration gathering between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and along her forehead, and hunger tearing her apart.

She didn't run as he made his way around the table. She watched him, wondering what the h.e.l.l had happened to her willpower, her strength, her determination to not let this man get around her so easily.

But he did. Not with his words. Or his intent. It was the longing in his eyes, the vulnerability, the joy that sparkled there as she faced him.

"I'm really going to get mad at you one of these days," she warned him as he stepped closer, surrounding her, his hand moving beneath her hair to cup her neck. "And don't bite me again, either. That's just too freaky."

She could feel the wound pulsing, achingly sensitive.

"You complain about the bite, but not the barb?" The casual tone of his voice was not reflected in the tenseness of his body.

"Yeah, well." She cleared her throat nervously. "The barb I can forgive you for. That bite is going to get your a.s.s kicked if my brothers see it, though. I'd prefer to keep you in one piece."

He stared down at her thoughtfully.

"I think you enjoyed the barb." He lowered his head, his tongue rasping over the small wound from his bite. "And I think you liked the bite, too, Lyra."

She s.h.i.+vered as his tongue rasped over it, sending currents of pleasure whipping through her.

"Maybe," she gasped in pleasure, standing still, her hands at her sides, curled into fists to keep from touching him, to keep from disturbing the emotion she could feel weaving around her.

"Come here, baby." He pulled her into his arms, leaving her no other choice but to lift her own, her hands moving to his neck, to his glorious mane of hair. "Let's see how much you like both."

His head lowered, his lips covered hers, and she was lost.

She knew she was lost. Taken in a firestorm of sensual heat as the delicately flavored hormone began to surge through her already prepared senses.

She moaned into his kiss, her lips parting, accepting his tongue, drawing on it as a savage growl vibrated in his throat.

Her nails bit into his shoulders, sc.r.a.ped the flesh, caressing him in turn as his hands gripped her b.u.t.tocks and lifted her against his thighs.

She was aware of him moving her, laying her back on the cus.h.i.+ons of the overstuffed couch as he moved over her.

He pushed the s.h.i.+rt over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but neither of them could break the kiss long enough to tear it off. But somehow he had removed his sweats.

She could feel his c.o.c.k, hard and heavy against her thigh as his hands roved over her sensitized body. They moaned, the sounds of their pleasure mixing, merging as he lifted her to him, the broad crest of his erection pressing against the slick, readied entrance to her spasming p.u.s.s.y.

"Lyra..." His harsh, graveled voice pierced her heart as he tore his lips from hers, raising his head to stare down at her with eyes that seemed to melt with emotion.

Oh G.o.d, she loved him. Everything about him. Every portion of him.

"Now," she whispered as he paused. "Love me, Tarek...

Please..."

He grimaced, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a savage snarl as he stared down at her in surprise.

"Don't you know, Lyra?" His smile was bittersweet. "Don't you know just how much I do love you?"

She would have smacked him, or at least yelled at him for saying it with such hopeless pain. But he chose that moment to begin pus.h.i.+ng into her, stretching her snug muscles as he worked his c.o.c.k inside her.

Fiery, agonizing heat filled her. The pleasure was lightning fast, flaring through every portion of her body as he rocked against her.

She felt him, inch by inch, sinking into her, just as he had taken her heart. Bit by bit, forcing her wide, searing her with not just the pleasure, but the sheer gentleness he used.

"I would die for you," he whispered against her ear, hiding his expression against her neck as she convulsed around him, her hands locking in his hair. "Don't you know, Lyra, I live for you now. For now and for always."

He surged through the final depths of her aching s.e.x, pus.h.i.+ng in fiercely before retreating with the same agonizing pace he had used to enter her.

"Tarek." She bit his ear. He was making her wild, setting her heart aflame, sending her body into quaking shudders of pleasure. "Just live for me," she gasped. "Oh G.o.d." He thrust into her quickly, retreated slowly, stealing her breath, her thoughts.

"Oh baby, I'm not nearly finished with you." His voice was so dark, so velvet-rough it nearly sent her into climax. Her womb convulsed; her breath caught in her throat as her c.l.i.t swelled in nearing ecstasy.

He leaned back, his knees pressing into the couch as he draped her legs Over his thighs. His hands free, he lifted her against him, holding her to his chest as he stared into her shocked face.

"Takeoff the s.h.i.+rt."

His c.o.c.k throbbed inside her. Her p.u.s.s.y was sucking at him with rapturous greed, and he was worried about her s.h.i.+rt?

"Now." His voice hardened, his gaze turning stubborn. "I won't give you what you need, Lyra, until you do."

Her hands lowered from his neck, gripping the s.h.i.+rt and struggling to jerk it over her head as one hand gripped her b.u.t.tock and lifted her several inches from the thick wedge of his c.o.c.k. Then he released her, thrusting hard and deep inside her again as she whimpered in delirious need.

The s.h.i.+rt cleared her head, though she struggled to force it from her arms. Finally it was gone, her hands moving to his shoulders again, her legs tightening around his hips as she fought to force him to move inside her.

"Tarek, I'm going to skin you alive if you keep torturing me."

She knew the pitiful whimper in her voice didn't exactly carry the threat well. But he should know her well enough to know she would keep her word. Maybe.

He chuckled.

"Hold on. We're going to the bed."

"The bed?" Her eyes widened in horror as he moved easily from the couch.

She shuddered as his c.o.c.k s.h.i.+fted with each movement.

"I heard that last time," her strangled gasp nearly became a mewl of rapture as his c.o.c.k began to f.u.c.k in and out of her with each step. "Those steps..." She moaned at the sensation of his movements inside her. "Aren't so comfortable."

"We'll make it." He sounded too confident. Too determined.

Sweet Lord, he was going to kill her.

She swore he would. She knew he would.

"Oh G.o.d. Tarek. Tarek, I can't stand it," she was screaming his name as he began to take the steps with a heavy, quick stride.

His c.o.c.k slammed inside her, taking her breath before retreating, rocking in, thrusting forcibly, then rocking inside her again.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, gasping, desperate cries fell from her lips as she tightened her legs around his hips and fought to hang on.

The first o.r.g.a.s.m ripped through her on the sixth step. On the twelfth she was shuddering, jerking in his arms as the second stole her breath and her mind.

She was only barely aware of him actually making it to the bed, laying her back, and gripping her hips as he began to f.u.c.k her into a third, destructive climax.

She arched, her breath leaving her body in a rush as she felt his release tear through him then. The barb swelled forcibly from beneath the head of his c.o.c.k, pressing into the delicate bundle of nerves that no man would have reached otherwise. It throbbed, caressed, and sent her flying into an o.r.g.a.s.m that had no beginning and no end. It only had Tarek, holding her, his teeth sc.r.a.ping the wound he had left earlier before his teeth locked on it once again and dark oblivion overtook her.

"I love you. Oh G.o.d, Tarek, I love you..." Velvet darkness enclosed her as the words whispered free, her heart expanding as her soul seemed to lift, shudder, and open to accept a part of him that she knew even death could never steal.

Chapter Nine.

"... I'm just tired, Dad. I had dinner out with a friend last night, and I have all this work backed up. I just think it would be best if you and the boys come over after all this rain lets up.

You know how they mess up my kitchen when it's wet outside..."

Tarek listened to Lyra spin a song and dance to her father later the next evening that even he wouldn't have believed from her.

His sensual, s.e.xual little mate was giving her father excuses that even he, who had no experience with parents, would never have tried.

What was it that made her think that delicate, sweet little voice was fooling anyone?

You're crazy! he mouthed slowly, ignoring her as she waved him away with a graceful little flip of her hand.

After two days of s.e.x that should have killed him, in positions he hadn't tried in all his s.e.xual lifetime, he was even p.r.o.ne to be fairly prejudiced in her favor. But the sweet, candy-coated innocent tone had him rolling his eyes at her before giving her a fierce frown.

What? she mouthed back, shooting him an irritated glance before turning her attention back to the call she had made to her family.

Considering the fact her brothers were Special Forces, he doubted their father was dimwitted. Yet here was his independent, feisty mate, reclining naked in his bed with nothing but a sheet to cover her, weaving an excuse that had him wincing painfully.

Her silken hair was tangled around her flushed face, her blue eyes gleaming with irritation, and she had the nerve to sit there and attempt to put her father off in such a way.

She was tired. She didn't feel like cooking. Her brothers made messes...

Give him a break. h.e.l.l, give him strength because he had a feeling the full fury of a father plus his sons would arrive on her doorstep, fouling the careful setup Braden had there to catch the Trainer.

"Yes, Dad, I know how irked they get when they have to wait to do things, but my yard looks like a swamp right now, and they couldn't do anything even if they wanted to. They just want a free meal, and I'm busy."

She was pouting. Seriously pouting. What happened to the independent "do it my way or no way" woman he knew? He shook his head, pus.h.i.+ng his fingers through his hair as he tried to think of ways to fix this before her family became his headache.

There was no stopping her. He sliced his hand across his throat, frowning at her warningly. To no effect. All he got was a glare in return.

That glare effectively hardened his c.o.c.k. All she had to do was think about opposing him, and that stubborn flesh rose to rigid life. Dammit. She was wearing him out.