Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

been gentle, reverent even. With none of the explosive, raw power Jake had just showered upon her. Lately, with her body so restless and unsettled, she’d dreamt of violent, earth-shattering sex, but she hadn’t really had an idea of what it was like.
    Nothing had prepared her for the total invasion of her senses, Jake’s enormous strength and terrible raw sexual hunger. She felt helpless in his arms, taken over, out of control. Her body was no longer her own, but seemed to belong to him, moving against his hand, her breasts swollen and aching, needing his hot mouth, needing his body buried deep in hers.
    She couldn’t even say the explosive sex between them had been all him. Something had taken her over until she craved him—desperately. Without her own identity. She would forever need Jake, need his stark, raw possession. This. An obsession. Not love. Never love. She would never be the same. Never want another man. And yet, not once had he been loving toward her. Even now, with his eyes commanding her, she wanted to obey, to lift her head and lap at him, taking every drop of him into her.

    She wasn’t a sexual creature. She didn’t understand what was happening to her, she only knew that she despised every woman who had ever come near him almost as much as she despised herself for not being in control.
    His hot gaze drifted over her with absolute satisfaction. She looked down at her body. Her breasts were swollen and aching, nipples tight. Her skin was covered with the red marks of his possession. The sight of those marks should have angered her, but instead her body tightened again, her sheath clenching, already feeling empty and needing him.
    “Can you get up?” He held out his hand.
    The question was so mundane, as if nothing at all had happened, certainly not as if she lay naked, sprawled out on the floor with his seed running down her thighs. She forced her sore body into a sitting position, ignoring his hand. She hadn’t known there were so many places she could ache.
    “Emma? Are you all right?” This time there was demand in his voice.
    She glared at him. “Do you have any idea what we’ve done?” She pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to stop the trembling, because she knew what she’d done. She’d had incredible sex, but there hadn’t been a shred of love in there anywhere, not that she could feel.
    “We’re doing what we need to do,” he said harshly, bending to take possession of her mouth again.
    Emma moved her head back out of his reach. “This isn’t right. This is too violent, Jake.” She stared up at the harsh lines etched deeply in his face, his sensual mouth twisted cynically, a little cruel. His eyes were glittering brightly, burning hot with temper. “I’m not anything to you. You were angry and you wanted a woman, any woman.”
    He swore vulgarly, and his eyes went flat and cold. “That’s a hell of a thing to say to me.”
    With calculated intent, he glided his hand up her leg, along the wetness of her inner thigh, over his mark of possession until his fingers found the hot wet core of her.
    He slid two fingers deep into her, watching her gasp, watching the helpless pleasure on her face and the way her eyes glazed when he drew circles around her tight bud. She was still very sensitive, and when he tugged and twisted, her sheath clamped down hard, sending another orgasm ripping through her body. His seed and her cream coated his fingers when he pulled them free and held them up in front of her face.
    “This isn’t just me, Emma. This is also you needing a man.” Deliberately he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her, his gaze burning deep, slashing at her with a controlled fury. “This is you needing me. ” He caught her hair in his fist and brought her face within inches of his fast-hardening shaft.
    For a moment she stared defiantly, but that wild something in her refused to let her have dignity or escape her own needs. Her mouth watered.
    “You think I can’t see what you want? Or smell your arousal? This is us together, Emma, whether you like it or not. It may not be all neat and pretty and wrapped up with a little bow, but it’s what we have.”
    She licked her lips, flicking her tongue out and swiping over the broad, flat head, unable to prevent herself from tasting him again. He shuddered visibly. Emma pulled back, ashamed of herself, fighting for dignity.
    “We’re violent, Jake. I’m not like this . . .” She trailed off, staring at