Mine to Possess

Something tight unfurled inside him and he lay quiescent as she kissed him with delicate feminine sweetness, as if savoring the taste of him. “Still adore me?” he said into that kiss, his tone husky. A tone between lovers, between mates, between a man and the only woman he had ever wanted.

“Too much,” was her response. “I only feel whole when I’m with you. Does that make me weak?”

The cat stretched out inside him as she pressed kisses along his jawline, down his neck. “If you’re weak, then so am I.” He could function without her but in the way a machine functions. His heart, his soul, he had given to her a long time ago. Her hair stroked over him as she began to kiss her way downward. “Tally-”

“Shh.” She put her hand over his heart again and looked up, such tenderness in her gaze that he felt captured, contained, caged. But his jailer was soft and so sweet, he was completely in her thrall. “Let me love you tonight.”

“Just tonight?” he teased, pushing one of his hands in her hair.

Her smile lit up the whole room. “Maybe I’ll do it again…if you behave.” Dipping her head, she pressed more of those delicate kisses to his skin. “Are you sensitive here?” She flicked her tongue across one flat nipple.

Clay sucked in a breath, felt more than heard her laugh. Then she blew a breath across the damp flesh and he groaned. That was when she used her teeth on him. The cat growled but Tally didn’t stop what she was doing. He hadn’t wanted her to. The cat liked her teeth, her claws, her scent, everything about her.

Her scent? For a second, he thought he should remember something, but Tally was moving to the other side of his chest and he was having trouble thinking about anything but the soft curves of her body. Under his hands, he felt satin and lace. “What’s this?”

“The women gave it to me. Hmm.” The sound vibrated through him as she reached the waistband of the sweatpants he’d worn to bed. “Why did you get dressed?”

His abdomen grew rock hard as he tensed his muscles in an attempt to keep his dominant instincts in check. “I thought you were tired.”

She ran her tongue along the waistband, excruciatingly close to his cock. “You’re not tired.” Raising her head, she brought up her hand to clasp him through the material.

His back arched. “Tally.” It was both warning and plea.

She snapped her teeth at him. “Should I bite?”

His cock jumped. “I thought you liked me.”

Her laugh was husky. Releasing him, she sat up on her knees and hooked her hands into the sides of his sweatpants. He let her draw them down, fascinated by the vision of her in that pink satin and white lace thing she was wearing. It was strappy and about as substantial as cotton candy. “You look like strawberry ice cream,” he managed to say as she got rid of his clothing and retook her kneeling position between his thighs.

“Do you like strawberry ice cream?” She shrugged and one strap slid down, exposing the upper curve of her breast.

He dug his hands into the bed, cursing the freckles that laid a teasing path across her creamy flesh. “Oh, yeah. I like to lap it straight up.” His mouth watered.

“Nuh-uh.” She waved a finger in warning. “I get to do the lapping-and licking-today.” The other strap went down, lace catching on the peak of her nipple.

“Jesus, Tally.” His gaze was fixated in the shadowed valley between her breasts. “When did you get this mean?”

She ran her finger down that valley, teasing him. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Talin was…having fun. It was the oddest thing for her. Sex wasn’t about fun. With Clay, it was wonderful and hot and pleasurable beyond her understanding, but she’d never expected this. It made her want to laugh and pepper his face with kisses.

“Drop the slip,” he said, voice raw. “Please.”

She fisted him instead, delighting in his bitten-off curse, in the way he lay there and let her play. Loving this man was so easy, it almost terrified her. Almost. “What do I get in return?”

“My damn cock thrusting you into orgasm.”

Her hand tightened. He hissed out a breath but seemed to like it. So she kept it that way. “Well, that is very tempting.” She stroked up, then down. “But I have a feeling I’ll get that anyway.”

His eyes became slits, cat-bright in the muted light of the room. And that was another thing-Clay never forced her into the dark, never belittled her for her childish fear. He just fixed the lights so no room was ever wholly without illumination. How could she possibly not be crazy for him?

“You want something,” he accused.

She smiled and bent down to flick her tongue across the head of his erection. He almost came off the bed and the swear word he used this time was considerably bluer. “Nice,” she murmured, licking her lips, hovering inches from his aroused length.