Psy & Changelings 02 - Visions of Heat

be there soon.”
    She took it from him and put it back on the workbench. “You’re afraid of hurting me.” Such a thing was wrong between mates, she knew that without having to be taught. “You’re scared I’ll cascade like I did yesterday.”
    “What we did yesterday was perfection, but you’re not ready for another round. And I don’t have gentleness in me right now.” Rough, harsh, blunt.
    She put her hand on the golden skin of his chest. “You’re never going to be truly gentle.”
    He flinched.
    “I didn’t mean it like that. I like your wildness, your passion, your demands.” She swallowed at the molten heat in his eyes. “You make me feel alive.”
    “I can sense the way you hurt when your mind breaks.”
    “But I get stronger with every loving.” Something she was now starting to understand. “If you try to contain yourself, you’ll shortchange both of us. I need to satisfy you in the same way you need to touch me.”
    “I won’t be tied down this time, and what I demand from you, you might not be ready to give. I’m in no mood to play.”
    Because, she realized, he was in the grip of a possessive protectiveness that left no room for half measures. She could feel the dark red of his hunger through the mating bond, feel his passion, his wildness. “Show me,” she whispered, pushing aside her own fears. If the Council did come for her tomorrow, she wanted to look at them with the confidence of a woman who’d broken every rule of Silence and done so in the most unquestionable way. “I won’t cascade.” A vow. To both of them.
    The T-shirt she’d meant to sleep in floated in shreds to her feet—Vaughn’s claws had moved so fast she hadn’t even had time to take a breath. Heart in her throat, she watched him retract those razor-sharp weapons, excruciatingly aware that he hadn’t left a scratch on her. Eyes locked with hers, he slid his hands down her back and under the waistband of her panties to cup her bottom.
    She gasped as her breasts rubbed against his chest, full and aching. When her panties disintegrated off her body, she barely felt it, so stunned was she at the pure sensuality that spread across Vaughn’s features. He’d been scared of physically harming her yesterday. Today he was in full control of his strength . . . but not of his hunger. Notwithstanding her confident talk, she wasn’t positive she could handle his demands.
    He smoothed one hand to the front of her body and the roughness of his skin rasping over her navel had her holding her breath. The tips of his fingers touched her curls. She clenched her hands on his shoulders.
    “So soft,” he murmured, and drove his fingers through the curls to cup her intimately.
    Her scream reverberated off the stone walls.
    When he rubbed the heel of that possessive hand against her, she rubbed back, starving for a sensation she’d never thought would be so exquisite. He liked that, a very male smile curving over those sensual lips. “More,” he demanded. “Give me more.”
    She rose on tiptoe and his tormenting hand followed, spearing through her softness to capture her most sensitive flesh in a hold that threatened madness of a new kind. Pressing her thighs together, she dug her nails into his shoulders and tried to reach his lips, but he wouldn’t cooperate. So she bit at his chest, scratched lines down his back.
    “Cat,” he said, and it was a pleased statement as he squeezed his fingers and rocked a shudder through her body. “I’m going to take you like I dreamed about.”
    Images of her bent over in the most submissive of positions, her bottom shamelessly upturned and her thighs spread in welcome. She didn’t fight the erotic onslaught, luxuriating in the psychic seduction. “You have to—”
    Sliding two fingers inside of her without warning, he palmed her breast with his free hand, a rough brand that set fire to her skin. “I have to what?”
    “H-have to get me there first,” she challenged, unable to stop her hips from plunging up and down on the hard intrusion of his fingers.
    He chuckled and spread those invading fingers just enough to intensify the pleasure. “You should know never to dare a cat.”
    “Meow,” she teased, even as she felt her body begin to gather itself for a storm.
    “Come for me,” he demanded. “I want to taste your surrender.” His fingers moved in a faster rhythm, stroking her so intimately that she had no defense.
    The pleasure swept her under and it was