Burning Wild Page 68

Emma tried to find enough breath to speak, to make her brain function properly. “Jake. We have to think about what we’re doing.” But she couldn’t think. There was no thinking, only the feel of his hands and mouth and the heat of his body.

Jake’s response was a low growl, rough, achingly sensual. His fingers pressed along her thigh, and she felt the bite of his nails, another mark on her body. Then he grasped her lace panties and yanked, ripping them away to push his palm against her welcoming moist heat, sweeping away every objection she might have thought of.

Emma gasped, her body fragmenting, rippling with life, with pleasure, at his touch. He was everywhere, hard and strong, his mouth hot, right through the lace of her bra. His lips left her breast to travel back up her throat, her chin, finding her mouth, brutal with need, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him, holding him closer, matching him desire for desire.

“Jake, slow down,” she whispered, afraid of her own passion, afraid of the sheer intensity and violence neither seemed to be able to control. She looked up at his face, lines harsh with lust, his eyes hooded and sensual, the irises gone, replaced by burning gold.

Jake felt the leopard pushing close to the surface, rising with the ferocity of his need, and he fought to maintain a semblance of control when there was none to have. His cock raged to be inside her, desperate for the hot, wet silk of her sheath and the pleasure and relief only she could bring to his body.

“I fucking have to be inside you,” he whispered crudely into her mouth, unable to stop himself, while he drove one finger into her fire. He groaned as her muscles clenched tightly around him. Deliberately he pushed deeper, inserting two fingers into her hot, slick channel to test her readiness.

He wanted her there on the floor of his office, where there was no give, where he could hold her down and drive himself deep, taking what was rightfully his. He grasped her buttocks and urged her more firmly against his hand, his fingers sliding deep, gliding in and out of her, while his tongue claimed possession of her mouth. His body was on fire, a strange roaring in his ears. He was heavy and full, beyond aching.

It wasn’t enough. He needed her touching him, needing her wanting him with the same wild frenzy of torment. He caught at his belt buckle, dragged his trousers open, so that he felt some measure of relief.

“I need you to touch me, baby. Right now, damn it.” His voice was a ragged snarl that he tried to gentle but couldn’t. “Emma, I need you, honey. Touch me. Please, just fucking touch me.” Desperate for the feel of her hands on him, he gave her no choice. He bunched one hand in her hair and guided her hand to his cock with the other.

His body trembled at the first touch of her fingers against his pulsing flesh, at the way her fingers shaped him, stroked and caressed. He shuddered, pushing into her hand, while he gripped her hair and forced her to her knees. “Put your mouth on me,” he commanded harshly. It was as if his cock had a life of its own, was on fire, so thick he felt he would burst.

He wasn’t going to live another moment unless she complied. His cock leaked into her palm and she rubbed the sensitive head with the tip of her thumb, looking up at him, her eyes slumberous, sexy. She looked impossibly sensual kneeling at his feet, her body bare except for her lacy bra, droplets of moisture caught in the fiery curls at the junction of her legs, her breasts spilling out, his marks of possession down her throat and over the soft mounds. He was fully clothed, his cock thick and hard and hurting like a son of a bitch.

“Fucking put your mouth on me now,” he hissed between clenched teeth as her tongue slipped out to curl around the broad, flared head, to taste the pearly drops there.

Emma bent forward and he lost his breath, his mind, his entire being, as she began to suckle him. She consumed him with her passion, with hot, terrible pleasure. Her mouth was a tube of fire burning him, scorching him, tight like a fist, milking at him, her tongue sliding over and under, lapping greedily at his base, along his sac and back up to once again engulf him.

The leopard roared and he felt his claws stretching, felt his bones snapping as her mouth took him to the very edge of his control. He fought the change, fought to keep from being too violent, too wild, but the feel of her mouth was killing him. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock growing in the hot slide of her mouth. He wanted more, both hands burying deep in her hair, holding her in place while his hips thrust and he threw back his head as he touched the back of her throat, brutal pleasure bursting through him like the sun.

She began to struggle, bringing him back to reality. “Relax.” He tried to force his body to calm down, but he couldn’t let her loose, couldn’t bring himself to abandon the hot haven of her mouth. “Relax, honey. You can take me. Just relax.”

She calmed a little under his soothing tone, forcing her throat muscles to relax as he pulled her head back more. He drove forward, murmuring encouragement, a hoarse cry escaping as her throat convulsed around him. He had to stop. He had to find control. If he didn’t, he would be spilling his seed down her throat, and he needed to be inside her. He ripped his shirt off and flung the material aside, his skin burning hot.

“I can’t wait, baby, not another minute. I’m sorry, I have to have you now. Later I’ll take my time, I swear it, but not this time. I’ll go out of my mind if I’m not inside you.”

He pushed against her aggressively, gripping her shoulders, taking her backward to the floor. She sprawled out, her knees up, her hair spilling across the gleaming hardwood like silk, her breasts thrusting upward, heaving with her gasping breath. He towered above her like a conqueror, kicking aside his shoes, shedding his trousers before reaching down to rid her of her bra.

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