Hot Blooded

bent her body forward, planting her hands on
the boulders while he thrust his fingers deep into her to test her readiness.
She pushed back into his hand, riding, bucking, sobbing for him enter her.
    He caught her hips and held her, looking down at her beautiful body. His
lifemate. Sultry, sexy—everything he could ever want. Crying out for him.
Pleading for him to take her, to unite them.
Demanding
he take her. He
was so hard he thought he might shatter. He surged into her thick wetness, one
long stroke that felt as if it blew the top of his head off. Fire raced up his
penis, spread through his body, a volcanic eruption that reached all the way to
his toes.
    Juliette's body was tight and hot and gripping his as he withdrew so that he
shuddered with pleasure. She sobbed again, pushing eagerly back onto him as he
thrust forward. He was large and thick, and driving through the soft folds was
sweet torture. "Are you all right?" He was so large and she felt so small. He
pressed her forward, adjusting their positions so she could take more of him. "I
want all of me inside of you."
    "I want every last bit of you in me too," Juliette answered. "Can't you feel
what I'm feeling? Harder. Faster. I need you to be crazy, because I feel crazy."
And she did. She felt wild and heated and sensual and she wanted him out of
control and driving into her with everything he was. Pouring his heart and soul
and his very essence into her. "More, I want more."
    Juliette gave herself up to the wild pounding. Every hard stroke sent
vibrations of sheer pleasure rushing through her body. Every cell, every nerve
ending, every tiny part of her burned and blazed. Her breasts ached and swung
with every thrust, her hair brushed the ground and silky strands fell in her
face. Her body was hot and sweaty and exploding in ecstasy. She took him with
her over the edge, her muscles clamping around his thick erection and dragging
every last drop of his seed out of him.
    For Juliette it didn't end, her body rippling with aftershocks, colors
bursting behind her eyes and fireworks going off in her mind. She didn't want
him to move, wanted to savor their joined bodies. He was magnificent, long and
thick and more than she could possibly have imagined.
    Riordan slid out of her body reluctantly. When she made a soft sound of
protest he drew her back into his arms. "We have time. All the time in the
world, and I want to touch you. I love kissing you." His hands skimmed her
breasts, moved up to frame her face. "And I hunger for the taste of you. I want
to bring you more fully into my world."
    She turned her face up to nuzzle his throat. "Do you know what I am?" She
kissed the hollow of his throat, her hands sliding possessively over his body.
Stroking his flat stomach and kissing her way along his chest. Her hands
caressed his penis, shaping and teasing and memorizing the long line of him.
"I'm jaguar. A shape-shifter. Are you certain I am what you want?"
    Riordan answered her in the only way he could. His body was sensitized and
reacting with more demands. His incisors lengthened as his penis did. He bent
his head and buried his teeth in the pulse beating so strongly in her neck.
    She cried out, threw her head back and circled his neck with her arms,
pressing her body closer to his. He had not used his tongue to prepare her for
the shock of the connection, but Juliette felt it only as white-hot heat
coursing through her bloodstream, as whips of lightning lashed every nerve
ending into a sexual frenzy.
    He held her possessively, his hands tender, but commanding, shifting her so
that the tips of her breasts rubbed against his chest and her hair was out of
the way. So that his straining groin pressed against her soft belly.
You
taste like an exotic fruit, tangy and spicy and hot. I wonder what you'll taste
like when I crawl between your legs and drink my fill there
.
    Her entire body clenched. She closed her eyes and pressed closer to him. She
wanted everything from him, with him. She wanted it all.
    His tongue swept across the pinpricks on her neck. His hand circled her
throat, his thumb tipping up her face so that she was compelled to look into his
eyes.
See what I taste like
. He commanded it in a purring, velvet
voice, so mesmerizing she half fell into a dream. Riordan opened a line with a
sharp fingernail, caught the back of her head in his palm and pressed her face
forward until her mouth was pressed to the