She stood toe-to-toe with him, but the anger coming off him in waves changed her mind. He was quite capable of a public scene and he wouldn't mind in the least. Jake shrugged out of his coat, bundled her in it and stalked to the Ferrari, taking her with him, waiting at her door until she got in. Emma nervously swept a hand through her hair as Jake slid in beside her. He reached across her to lock the seat belt around her. For some inexplicable reason she felt trapped. "Jake?" She said his name softly, gently, wanting reassurance.
"Don't say anything, Emma." He didn't look at her. With controlled violence, he spun the wheel and fell in behind Drake's truck, with Joshua directly following them in the Jeep.
Emma closed her eyes and lay back in the seat. The tension in the interior of the car could be cut with a knife. He was actually trembling with rage. Seething with it. She could feel it swirling inside of him, dark and ugly and violent. She sighed, wishing she could share the humor of the evening with him, the way Joshua and Drake had acted in the show, the look on Greg's face when Jake had come over and sat between them. If Jake had been the least bit like Andrew, they would be laughing together.
Once they arrived at the ranch, Jake's fingers bit into her upper arm and he hauled her right out of the car. Emma went with him into the house just for the sake of peace. But he didn't release her. He continued on down the hall toward his office.
Emma struggled. "Let go of me, Jake. You're hurting me." He wasn't, but she was suddenly tired, the beginnings of a headache coming on. He was in a foul mood and she didn't particularly feel like dealing with it.
"I want to talk to you," he bit out between clenched teeth, thrusting her into the room. "I think it's been a long time coming."
Emma stumbled and had to catch at the back of a chair to keep from falling. She kicked off her high heels. "What is it, Jake? I'm really very tired and I don't particularly care for your mood."
"My mood?" An eyebrow went up, his fist clenched. "You don't care for my mood?" His eyes burned with fury.
"No, not really. You're angry and I can't understand why." She hung on to her patience; one of them had to show good sense.
"All the way home I told myself I wouldn't lose my temper, I'd be perfectly reasonable when we talked. You don't even know why I'm angry?" His eyes were glittering, a golden menace.
"Not really, no."
"I hate it when you're so damned calm. Do you ever lose control, Emma?" He took a step closer, his temper barely held in check. He wanted to kiss that look right off of her face. Two long years of waiting. She was his, made for him. Belonged to him. He wanted to rake his claws over Patterson's belly and tear out his guts, watch him die a slow, terrible death.
"Who the hell is Greg Patterson? When did he ask you out and why the hell did you go with him?"
Emma tried to fight down her own anger, knowing she could lose everything if she got into a fight with Jake. He owned her home and everything in it, but she couldn't let him talk to her the way he was. She tried to be reasonable, but there was a part of her that knew she had deliberately precipitated the crisis, and she couldn't stop herself from pushing him even more.
"If anyone should be angry here, it should be me. After the way you acted, do you think he'd ask me out again? You made it sound as if we had children together, as if we lived together. He probably thought you caught me stepping out on you."
"Another date!" He caught her shoulders, his fingers biting into her soft skin, hauling her very close to his large, masculine frame. She could feel the heat from his body enveloping her. "You go out on another date and I'll break his neck. And just so you have it straight, Emma, we do have children together. You do live with me."
She scowled at him. "You know very well we're not like that. And you're the one who said I needed a man."
"And just what the hell am I?"
She stared at him, blinking rapidly. "You are not the least bit interested in me."
"I fucking asked you to marry me," he pointed out, furious beyond anything he'd ever known. "What the hell more do you want?" He swore aloud, too angry to say another word.
Jake jerked her into his arms, crushing her body right up against his. One hand twisted in her hair, the other held her chin so he could claim her mouth. There was nothing gentle or sweet about his kiss. The touch of his lips sent an electric shock running through her. He bit down on her lower lip just hard enough to cause her to gasp and then he was pure male domination, invading her softness, tasting, punishing.
11
EMMA couldn't move, didn't dare to struggle, recognizing in that moment how dangerous Jake really was. His strength was enormous, his hunger stark and raw. Fully aroused, he seemed capable of anything. He growled low in his throat, his kiss deepening until he was almost eating at her mouth in an effort to devour her. He drove her backward until she was against the wall, never lifting his mouth from hers. Emma ran her tongue along the edge of his teeth, feeling a sharpness, tasting his desire as he cupped the back of her head and held her there, his mouth moving over hers, turning her body to liquid fire.
Jake captured both her hands in his and drew them over her head, holding her pinned there, his body rubbing along hers like a cat. Something wild in her responded, her body burning with unnatural heat. He was a primitive male claiming his mate, and her bones melted until she was living, pliant silk, and every nerve ending was alive from their combined fiery heat. She shaped her body to his, pressing close, her mouth moving mindlessly beneath his, tongues twining, stroking, his taste bursting through her like erotic champagne bubbles.
She couldn't think, could only feel, her body going up in flames, needing his. If he was growling, she was moaning, breathless and hungry and so needy she couldn't stand the weight of her clothes on her skin.
There was nothing unsure about Jake; he made love the way he did everything--ruthlessly, decisively, in total command. At the same time, he was wild, out of control, sweeping her with him in a storm of intensity. His mouth left hers to travel along her vulnerable throat, deliberately biting, suckling, leaving marks of possession on her soft skin. He grasped the front of her blouse and pulled, ripping the thin material down the front, then dragged her skirt from her as if he found anything keeping her body from his touch and sight offensive to him.
As such, he couldn't seem to wait long enough to even rid himself of her bra. His mouth tracked burning kisses down to the lacy material covering her breasts. Emma heard the low, raw sound escaping her throat as his mouth closed over her breast, right through the lace, teeth scraping, his tongue hot and wicked, swirling over the hard bud of her nipple. His arms, thick with roped muscles, dragged her closer, his mouth pulling with strong, urgent hunger.
He wasn't gentle--he was hungry, feasting at her, claiming her, small, feral growls rumbling in his chest and throat. "Mine," he snarled and drew her into the hot inferno of his mouth. "Mine," he reiterated, his teeth biting down until she cried out and his tongue immediately laved and soothed.
Her body was a furnace, and she arched against him, trying to get as much of her skin in contact with his as possible. His hands moved over her possessively, stroked along her narrow rib cage and small waist, and bit into the curve of her hip. All the while he tugged and pulled at her nipples, teeth scraping, until the line between pain and pleasure blurred and she was crying with need.
Jake yanked her leg up around his, his hand finding her calf, traveling upward, shaping the perfection of her bone structure, moving along her inner thigh. Emma's hands tightened around his neck, clinging to him, while the world faded away so that there were only his hands and his mouth and the ravenous hunger raging between them. Arousal sent flames teasing at her thighs until her shaking legs threatened to give out.
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.
"Jake." There was uncertainty in her voice as she blinked up at him, a tinge of fear in her eyes. Her body was flushed, excited, and he scented her arousal, spurring the leopard to new heights of lust.
He knew he should slow down, reassure her, but the leopard wouldn't allow it, driving him now, past all sense, uncaring of anything but claiming her, tying her to him. He had waited forever, burning night after night, until he lived in a kind of hell.
He went to the floor, yanking her knees apart, jerking her body to him across the polished wood, and he lowered his head and stabbed his tongue deep into her hot, creamy center. Emma bucked, screamed, tried to writhe away, pushing at the floor with her heels in an effort to crawl out from under him. He growled again, his head jerking up, eyes burning at her, his fingers digging deep into her thighs, preventing her from moving an inch. She was so wet, so ready, her body already clenching, spasming, desperate for his.
"It's too much, slow down," Emma entreated, her hand fisting in his hair.
The pain in his scalp only spurred him on. He growled again, heightening the sensations with vibrations as he began to feast on her. Her taste was wildly exotic, and the blood rushed to his cock, straining his shaft to such unbearable fullness he thought he would burst. More cream spilled from her and he lapped at it like a starving cat as she moaned and writhed under his assault. Another hot, desperate growl rumbled deep in his throat as he devoured her. His teeth scraped at her clit. She drove her hips up and he caught her thighs, dragging them wider apart to give him better access. When he suckled on the small hard bud, she bucked wildly against his mouth, her cries turning to sobs of pleasure as he threw her into an intense orgasm.
"Jake . . . stop . . . I can't do this. I can't take any more. You have to stop." He was going to kill her with sheer pleasure. She needed to slow down, catch her breath. He was going to drive her insane. "Jake." She tried to gasp out stop, but it was already too late.
He didn't stop. Instead his reaction intensified. His tongue flicked the sensitive bud over and over, driving her higher, making her burn hotter, until the knot of nerve endings felt on fire against his tongue. She pushed at him, thrashing now, her own voice a hoarse sob as she tried to loosen his merciless grip on her thighs. Her ragged breath and bucking body drove his own lust higher. His leopard leapt and roared, clawing at his belly, demanding more of her addictive taste, wanting to mark her everywhere so she could never again attempt to deny who she belonged to.
His tongue stabbed and flicked, plunging deep, refusing to give her a moment to recover, deliberately controlling her. Her wild thrashing only fed his cat's need for dominance, and he slid his mou
th from her, licked the slick wetness coating her mound several times and then settled his teeth on the inside of her thigh, once again marking her.
Her eyes went wide with shock as the pleasure-pain threw her into another orgasm and he immediately feasted, driving her back up until beads of perspiration dotted her body and her hair was damp.
Jake rose to his knees, staring down on his prey, fighting the ache in his jaw and the pain in his body. She looked beautiful. She was wild, her body an inferno. He could feel her heat as he pushed the broad, flat, so-sensitive head of his cock into her slick entrance. She closed around him, gripping him hard, so tight. He stayed still, showing her his power over her.
This was no quick lay. He meant to mate with her, to take her for all time as his own, to show her who she belonged to and leave his mark on her. She hissed at him, pinned to the floor by his larger, stronger body, her nails digging into wood, her breasts a temptation, her voice a pleading sob in spite of the fact that she struggled.
He stretched her, knew his entry skimmed the borders of burning pain, but it couldn't be helped. She was so tight and he was thick and long. She gasped, her eyes going wide.
"Mine." He growled the word, rocking forward just a little, watching the pleasure flare in her eyes. "Mine." Meaning it. Wanting her to know he meant it. There would be no going back after this. "Dare to tell me you're not. Deny it, Emma, if you can. Fucking try to tell me you want another man. Or admit the truth. Admit it's me you want and no other."
His eyes dared her to defy him. His hands gripped her legs tightly as he paused, lodged in the entrance of her hot, slick opening. Fear skated through the deep green of her eyes. Her sheath clenched tightly around him, grasping at him, trying to pull him deeper, and he fought not to give in, to slam himself home. Something wild and wickedly primitive in her wanted--even needed--his brutal possession; he could read that much. But she was afraid. She wouldn't just give herself to him, although every single cell in her body screamed for him, screamed for more. She just wasn't certain she could handle more.
Burning Wild Page 21
