Psy & Changelings 11 - Tangle of Need

the only warning she had before he took part of her neglected breast into his mouth, scraping up with his teeth until he caught her nipple. A flick of his tongue and she arched up off the bed, thrusting her hands into his hair. “Forget about the experiment,” she snarled, and twisted, taking him to his back.
    He’d let her do it, she knew that. Because while she was a strong dominant, he was a lieutenant, far stronger and with faster reflexes. It didn’t matter, not in bed, not with lovers who cared about one another’s pleasure. And they did. Her wolf felt happy, playful for the first time in years. It was a giddy sensation, champagne in her bloodstream.
    Reaching forward, she pinned his wrists above his head, his bones solid and powerful under her hold. “It’s time for you to behave.”
    A heavy-lidded look, slits of bright gold. “What’s my incentive?”
    She shifted down his body until the satin of her panties, her most delicate flesh slick with desire beyond the fine barrier, rubbed over the heated steel of his cock. “How’s that?”

    HE’D seen her angry, seen her heartbroken, seen her pleasured, but this was the first time Riaz had seen Adria with sensual mischief in her eyes. His wolf responded, lunging with playful intent. Jerking up even as she began to shape and pet his chest, he flipped her onto her back again, ending up braced on his hands and knees above her. “Pretty good, but I’ve never been one to give up on a challenge.” Bending his head to her breasts, he used his teeth, nipping and biting.
    She dug her claws into his shoulder. “Stings.”
    Raising his head, he said, “No?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “Good, I like the taste of you.” He returned to what he’d been doing, sucking on her nipples until they were ripe little berries before licking the lower curve of her breasts and taking another bite. Her legs rose up to hook around his hips, a sweet, tight prison. Not fighting, he settled heavily against her, enjoying the tensile strength of her married with the lush tang of her femininity, her breasts filling his hands.
    Her fingers wove into his hair again, fisted.
    Releasing her breast, he rubbed his unshaven jaw against the soft curve. She uttered a stark sound of pleasure and attempted to slide her delicate heat against the painful rigidity of his cock, but wise to her tricks, he pinned her to the bed with his greater weight. She made her frustration clear in the claws he felt biting into his skin.
    Slicing out his own claws, he squeezed her hip in warning.
    A snarl.
    Kissing his way up the center of her chest, he sucked a mark on her throat. It made her moan, the snarl transforming into a husky sound of pleasure. He squeezed one breast, dipped back down to rub his jaw over the other, the creamy flesh marked by his attentions.
    A jolt shook her frame. “Riaz.”
    Hearing the fracture in her voice, he bit down just a little too hard on one nipple as he rolled the other between his fingertips. She shattered with a sudden, shocked cry, her thighs clenching around his hips, onehand fisted in his hair, the nails of the other digging into his shoulder. A hint of blood scented the air and his wolf bared its teeth, not in anger but in primitive satisfaction.
    Breaking her hold, he pulled down her panties, got rid of his own remaining clothing and slid into her in a single, deep thrust. She welcomed him with a wild tangle of a kiss, her body continuing to ripple with aftershocks of pleasure that squeezed his pulsing cock, the pressure dragging him to the edge.
    He broke the kiss, gasped in a jagged breath. Two long, hard thrusts and he felt his spine lock. Gritting his teeth, he tilted her so that his pubic bone would press against her clitoris, and then he thrust again.
    Tiny muscles spasming anew around his cock, a molten fist.
    His mind went black.

Chapter 33
    THOUGH VASIC TELEPORTED directly into Anthony Kyriakus’s office, the Councilor’s patrician face didn’t display any hint of surprise. Leaning back in his chair, the silver threads in his hair glimmering in the sunlight pouring through the window behind him, he met Vasic’s eyes. “It’s been a while.”
    “Yes.” His goals had once aligned with Anthony’s, but Vasic’s loyalty would always be to the Arrows. “The Council is fractured.”
    “It’s not yet common knowledge,” Anthony said, putting down the laser pen he’d been using to make notes on a datapad.
    “No—but rumors are beginning to