Leopard 05 - Savage Nature

feast overtook him and he suckled like a starving man—suckled until she was writhing again and moaning almost continuously—until her fists tugged at his hair.
    One hand smoothed over her belly, stroked her hip and slid briefly over her mound to feel the damp welcoming heat there. She threw her head from side to side and lifted her hips into his palm, gasping for breath. He slid one finger into all that hot honey, that sweetness he craved.
    “Oh God,” she whispered, her eyes going completely gold and feral.
    He bent his head and licked at her breast, watching her closely as he added a second finger in her tight channel, stretching her as gently as he could.
    “Drake,” she called his name, eyes slightly shocked at the sensations pouring through her. “I need . . .” She couldn’t articulate the rest.
    “Take it easy,” he soothed her. “I don’t want you hurt. We have to go slow this time. You need slow, trust me, Saria. Slow is good.”
    He stroked again and, as if he’d somehow lit a torch, a flash fire raced through him like a fireball. He groaned. He wasn’t certain he could go slow, not with such a craving clawing at his belly.
    “I need to taste you, Saria.” His voice was nearly a growl. Hunger was edging out sanity. He had to have her now, had to mark every inch of her with his scent. He’d never been so rock-hard in his life. He kissed his way down her body until he could kneel between her legs. She looked at him with dark, golden eyes, so wide, glazed with heat and need.
    He took a breath and looked down at her body, allowing his gaze to drift slowly over her. “Mine.” He exhaled on the word and looped her legs over his arms, pulling her closer as he lowered his head.
    She smelled wild, and his own primitive nature leapt at the challenge. Saria equaled untamed, she went her own way and didn’t make apologies for it. He heard her breath hitch and he tightened his grip on her hips in warning. She’d had her way with him and he had allowed it; he wanted the same. She was all his and he intended to indulge himself. He nuzzled her inner thighs and drank in her scent. Part cat, he needed to rub along her skin with his, to bite gently and taste, to use every tactile sense he had to stake his claim on her.
    He swiped his tongue over all that heat and she bucked in his arms. “Ssh, it’s all right,” he whispered. “Relax for me.” His eyes met hers again. There was trust there. She swallowed hard but she nodded her assent.
    He kissed his way back up her inner thighs, nipping gently with his teeth, letting her get used to the feel of him between her legs. Very slwly, with great tenderness, he ran his tongue over her heated center, an artist painting the gentle waves of an ocean lapping at the shore. He took his time, enjoying the tremors running through her body. Her temperature went up so that skin to skin, she radiated heat right through him.

13
     

     
    SARIA knew she was drowning in desire. She felt consumed with need, with arousal. Looking at Drake, at his face, every line stamped with pure sensuality, the set of his mouth, his eyes, all carved deep with dark hunger. His eyes were all cat, staring at her as if she was prey, his gaze focused completely on her, as his hands gripped her hips tightly.
    Fear skittered down her spine, yet excitement welled up like a fountain. He looked all man, a tough, scarred man at the edge of his control and knowing he was that way because of her— for her—was exhilarating. She wanted him to look at her like that—all hungry leopard, a man craving— needing her body. Her body. Her skin. Her .
    His eyes locked with hers. Fierce. Intent. Her heart beat so hard she was afraid it would come through her chest. He licked his lips. Her heart jumped. Heavy-lidded eyes were dark gold, glittering with a harsh need.
    “Give yourself to me.” Instead of harsh, his voice was oddly tender, completely at odds with the stark sensuality. “Completely to me. No one will ever need you more.”
    An alarm bell went off somewhere in the back of her mind, but she was too far gone. She needed him—needed this. She couldn’t stop her body from moving suggestively, invitingly, or the soft moaning whimper that escaped her throat as she nodded. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent word.
    His hands tightened on her hips. With her legs draped over his forearms, she was completely open to him. He kept watching her face even as he slowly lowered his head