Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

ripping the thin material down the front, then dragged her skirt from her as if he found anything keeping her body from his touch and sight offensive to him.
    As such, he couldn’t seem to wait long enough to even rid himself of her bra. His mouth tracked burning kisses down to the lacy material covering her breasts. Emma heard the low, raw sound escaping her throat as his mouth closed over her breast, right through the lace, teeth scraping, his tongue hot and wicked, swirling over the hard bud of her nipple. His arms, thick with roped muscles, dragged her closer, his mouth pulling with strong, urgent hunger.
    He wasn’t gentle—he was hungry, feasting at her, claiming her, small, feral growls rumbling in his chest and throat. “Mine,” he snarled and drew her into the hot inferno of his mouth. “Mine,” he reiterated, his teeth biting down until she cried out and his tongue immediately laved and soothed.
    Her body was a furnace, and she arched against him, trying to get as much of her skin in contact with his as possible. His hands moved over her possessively, stroked along her narrow rib cage and small waist, and bit into the curve of her hip. All the while he tugged and pulled at her nipples, teeth scraping, until the line between pain and pleasure blurred and she was crying with need.
    Jake yanked her leg up around his, his hand finding her calf, traveling upward, shaping the perfection of her bone structure, moving along her inner thigh. Emma’s hands tightened around his neck, clinging to him, while the world faded away so that there were only his hands and his mouth and the ravenous hunger raging between them. Arousal sent flames teasing at her thighs until her shaking legs threatened to give out.
    Emma tried to find enough breath to speak, to make her brain function properly. “Jake. We have to think about what we’re doing.” But she couldn’t think. There was no thinking, only the feel of his hands and mouth and the heat of his body.
    Jake’s response was a low growl, rough, achingly sensual. His fingers pressed along her thigh, and she felt the bite of his nails, another mark on her body. Then he grasped her lace panties and yanked, ripping them away to push his palm against her welcoming moist heat, sweeping away every objection she might have thought of.
    Emma gasped, her body fragmenting, rippling with life, with pleasure, at his touch. He was everywhere, hard and strong, his mouth hot, right through the lace of her bra. His lips left her breast to travel back up her throat, her chin, finding her mouth, brutal with need, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him, holding him closer, matching him desire for desire.
    “Jake, slow down,” she whispered, afraid of her own passion, afraid of the sheer intensity and violence neither seemed to be able to control. She looked up at his face, lines harsh with lust, his eyes hooded and sensual, the irises gone, replaced by burning gold.
    Jake felt the leopard pushing close to the surface, rising with the ferocity of his need, and he fought to maintain a semblance of control when there was none to have. His cock raged to be inside her, desperate for the hot, wet silk of her sheath and the pleasure and relief only she could bring to his body.
    “I fucking have to be inside you,” he whispered crudely into her mouth, unable to stop himself, while he drove one finger into her fire. He groaned as her muscles clenched tightly around him. Deliberately he pushed deeper, inserting two fingers into her hot, slick channel to test her readiness.
    He wanted her there on the floor of his office, where there was no give, where he could hold her down and drive himself deep, taking what was rightfully his. He grasped her buttocks and urged her more firmly against his hand, his fingers sliding deep, gliding in and out of her, while his tongue claimed possession of her mouth. His body was on fire, a strange roaring in his ears. He was heavy and full, beyond aching.
    It wasn’t enough. He needed her touching him, needing her wanting him with the same wild frenzy of torment. He caught at his belt buckle, dragged his trousers open, so that he felt some measure of relief.
    “I need you to touch me, baby. Right now, damn it.” His voice was a ragged snarl that he tried to gentle but couldn’t. “Emma, I need you, honey. Touch me. Please, just fucking touch me.” Desperate for the feel of her hands on him, he gave her no choice. He bunched one hand in her hair and