Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

temptation. He was so unashamed of his raw sexuality, of his need, standing up with his hand massaging his shaft with hypnotic strokes, so that it responded by growing thicker and longer and much harder. She shook with wanting him, her core liquid and empty. “It feels like a sin.”
    “You were made for sex and sin, Emma, whether you want to admit it or not. You were made for me. I refuse to be ashamed because I want you. I want you every minute of the day. When you walk by me in the house, I wish you were wearing a long skirt so I could just push it up out of the way and find you wet and eager for me. I want you in every possible way I can have you, and if you think I’m going to let you walk away from this—away from me—because you’re afraid, think again.”
    He looked so masculine, the columns of his thighs strong. Emma gasped and leaned forward. There were scars, deep, long slashes fractions of an inch apart, up and down both thighs. She couldn’t stop herself from running her palm over them and then holding her hand there as if she could make it better.
    Each mark had been deliberately made with a very sharp instrument. “What happened? Who did this to you?” She was outraged, that strange, primitive part of her rising fast and ferocious again. “What are these?”
    “Victories.”
    The way he said it, with that soft little snicker, made her gaze jump to his face. He looked at her as if she were one of his victories. Self-disgust made her pull back, but his fingers only tightened in her hair to hold her still.
    “Are you ashamed because you want me, Emma? Don’t pretend you don’t, because neither of us will buy that lie. I have your scratches, the marks of your nails, all over me. The taste of you is in my mouth, soaked into my pores, and the scent of you surrounds me.”
    He held her there, refusing to allow her to look away from him. “Be who you are.”
    She shook her head, uncaring that her scalp hurt, uncaring that her body pulsed and was wetter than ever at the way he was talking. Did she really want to be an object? A plaything for him to use and then toss away when he was done? Had she gone so far down the road of depravity with him that she couldn’t go back?
    “This isn’t love, Jake. It isn’t even a relationship.”
    He felt her words like a blow in the pit of his stomach. She didn’t love him. No matter what he’d done, he couldn’t make her love him. He could see the evidence of her arousal, every bit as strong as his own.
    He might not get her love, but by God, he could own her body. Shaken, hurt, anger rising to protect him, he stepped relentlessly closer, refusing to back away from what was between them. If the only way he could tie her to him was through sex, then so be it. He’d take whatever he could get.
    “How would you know when all you’ve ever had was a few honeymoon months with that boy, Andrew? With your adolescent view of relationships I doubt you even know what’s between a man and a woman. Men can be cruel and life can be messy and sex can be violent. It’s all those things. But if this is what I get, you on your knees with your mouth on my cock and my marks all over your hot little body, then I’ll take it.”
    She flinched visibly as he towered over her, straight and tall, his eyes antique gold, glittering with heat.
    His shaft was thicker than ever and his hand was a fist, gripping tightly, pushing his erection along her lips. She found the way he was so unashamed of his blatant sexuality both compelling and admirable—
    and erotic. Her body responded to his arousal no matter what her head said. His low, sexy voice, the way he talked, everything about him sent ripples of fire straight to her center until she wept with need
    —and wept for her own inability to resist him.
    “I don’t understand what we’re doing, Jake,” she said. “We could lose everything we have. You know how you are. Are you so willing to risk me? Don’t I mean anything at all to you?” There were tears in her voice that she couldn’t hide, didn’t want to hide.
    He had to understand the consequences of what they were doing. He used women and threw them away. He couldn’t deny that. Leopards didn’t change their spots. Wasn’t that the old adage? He would use her and eventually he would grow tired of her. How could she possibly keep a man like Jake happy? He had shredded her innocence, taken her far beyond her experience, and yet she had somehow been every bit as