“I am serious.” Spike wriggled the tip of his tongue over her belly to make her squeak again. “Damn serious. I want to rip off your clothes and tickle you all over.”

“What if you kill me from laughing?”

“I gotta risk it.”

Spike yanked open her jeans, the button popping and tinkling to the floor. The denim sagged against her hips, and Spike shoved her jeans all the way down. He kissed the thin line of pink panties he found underneath, then hooked his fingers around the elastic and pulled those down as well.

Cool night air touched Myka’s bare skin, the curls between her legs already wet. Spike blew his breath there, stirring the hair, then he kissed her, right over her clit.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“Tickles?” he asked. “How about this?” Spike zipped his tongue where he’d warmed her with his breath. Myka’s squeak turned to a groan.

“Stop it,” she said, sounding feeble, even to herself. “You have to stop it.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I thought you came to guard my house.”

“No one’s getting in here without my say-so, love. I won’t give a rat’s ass if I’m kissing you, drinking you, or buried inside you.”

“You plan to do all three of those?”

“Hell yes. Myka I need . . . I need you.”

Myka’s heart and body cried out for him in return. Her life had been so empty—she’d not let herself acknowledge it. She took care of other people’s horses, looked after her best friend’s kid, helped out her best friend’s mom.

No one for her, nothing but a lonely house at the end of the day. No parents, no sisters, no brothers. No boyfriend, because the few relationships she’d started had never worked out. She’d never been able to trust a man enough to get close.

Spike wasn’t a man. He was a Shifter. And he was licking her, moving his mouth to thrust his tongue into her cleft.

Yes.

Myka rose on her tiptoes, scooping him into her. His mouth was wild and wicked, tongue flickering into and out of her, whiskers burning her thighs.

Myka writhed in rhythm with his tongue, her skin flushing and going cold, her head rocking back on her neck. She was going to come right in the middle of her living room, screaming out her joy and waking her neighbors.

Myka pressed her fist to her mouth, muffling the first noises. Hot craziness started at his tongue and fired through her body, until darkness and light were the same, and nothing existed but his scalding mouth, his fingers on her thighs.

His teeth scraped her flesh. “Let it go,” he growled. “Let it out.”

No, I can’t. Hold it in, never show weakness, never betray yourself.

He growled again, breath hot. “Come for me, Myka. I need you to come.”

He closed his mouth over her again, tongue working, licking, sexing her. He was beautiful and strong, and his voice, his mouth, lips, teeth, hands, were driving her insane.

“No. No!” Myka ripped her fist from her mouth as the last No turned into a wail, and her climax reached out and embraced her. Tears leaked from her eyes as she arched to his fabulous mouth.

“What are you doing to me?” she cried.

Spike dragged his tongue up to her navel, circled it, kissed it. The gorgeous heat went away, but then, he was lifting her, shoving the jeans off where they’d bunched around her feet.

“I was getting you ready,” he said. Myka felt his rough, blunt, fighter’s fingers between them, his jeans moving out of the way. “I needed you to come because Shifters are big, and I need you wet and open for me.”

Big? How big?

Oh.

That big.

His c**k bumped her, thick and wide. Spike opened her thighs around his hips, lifting her and holding her with perfect strength while he slid up and inside.

Myka’s eyes went wide. Hell, he couldn’t be that . . .

Oh, my God . . . it has to stop soon . . .

Oh, my God.

The ferocity drained from Spike’s face in one instant. He looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes, the dark brown touched with gold. His lips parted, mouth softening.

“Myka . . .” The word came out of him on a grating exhale. “You’re tight. Damn, you’re tight.”

Sounds of ecstasy came out of Myka’s mouth and nothing else. Coherence had gone.

Spike leaned her back, and she found a cool wall behind her. Then she was aware of nothing but Spike holding her steady, hands protecting her from the hardness of the wall, his heat engulfing her. His body was so tight against hers that his strength became her strength too.

And his c**k . . . Reaching inside her, bigger and harder than anything had a right to be, spreading her, loving her.

She was going to die. No, she was going to live, and love every second of it.

Myka wrapped her arms around Spike’s beautiful body and kissed his lips. Spike smiled into the kiss, opening her mouth, slanting their lips together, deepening the kiss.

He thrust inside her in small pushes, the space too tight for much else. Each pulse made Myka moan, and Spike growled low in his throat.

Sweat dripped between them, Spike’s skin slick with it. Myka glided her hands over his tatts, leaning down to lick the swirl of dragon wings across his shoulders.

Naked, entwined, the ache between her legs both beautiful and agonizing, Myka kissed him, licked him, kneaded him. She loved Spike’s hair, the sharp stubble of it. She liked it against her fingertips, under her nuzzling her nose, against her lips and tongue.

She was coming again, Spike’s loving tearing her apart. Myka’s cries rang out into the quiet living room, his growls becoming sounds of need, then shouts.

Finally he was pumping up into her, she rising and falling against the wall, sheltered and protected by his arms.

“Feel my seed,” he almost snarled. “Take my seed. Myka. Mate.”

Myka’s answer was another cry, hoarse in her throat. Spike’s shout mingled with hers, then his eyes glowed golden, Shifter, and heat scalded her inside and out.

Then they were falling, down, down, the rug coming up at her, but Spike was holding her, shielding her from harm. She landed on top of him, he still inside her, his eyes that wild Shifter gold.

“Mate,” he said again, and he held her hard, arms across her back. “My mate. Myka.”

His voice caressed the name, his embrace not letting her go.

Myka collapsed, her heart beating swiftly, her body both pliant and tight. She knew she should worry about that word—mate—but right now, the world was bliss, and she surrendered.