6
BIJOU made a sound, a soft little cry that tore at Remy, inflamed him, made him all the more desperate for her. He had to get skin to skin. Blood surged hotly, pooled low and wicked, until he was one giant ache. He bent his mouth to her breast, his hand going to the other nipple as his teeth tugged and teased. He wanted her more than aroused, more than ready. He wasn't going to give her one moment to back out or change her mind. He was too far gone.
She writhed against him, pressing her back into the wall, a soft little cry somewhere between pain and pleasure escaping. He caught at her with hard hands, whirled her around and pushed her hard against the wall, his hands dropping to the waistband of her jeans. He stripped her clothes and shoes from her, holding her still with one hard hand against her back, unrelenting, not allowing her to move while he removed every bit of cloth that might come between them.
His own clothes followed, while he breathed deep, trying to keep his animal instincts at bay. He kissed his way up the back of her legs, nuzzled her firm bottom and made her yelp when he bit her twice, the second time deliberately leaving his mark.
"Remy, it's too much," she whispered. Her body trembled, her arms flat against the wall, her head turned to one side as she tried to look at him through her long fall of silky hair.
His hand slipped between the wall and her flat belly, continued that slide lower as he stood, until he was cupping her hot mound while pressing himself against her back, pinning her there to the wall. She was hotter and slicker than anything he'd ever felt. His finger slid inside of her. She moaned and her body clamped down tight. Her hips bucked involuntarily. He bent his head to her shoulder, kissing her neck, nuzzling her as his finger moved in and out in a slow replica of what he wanted most.
Her buttocks rubbed against him as she gasped and moved, unable to be still. He sank his teeth into soft skin and she cried out, hot liquid pouring over his finger, lubricating her enough that he could sink two fingers deep.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was muffled. Husky. Desperate.
His tongue lapped at the marks on her shoulder and neck. "Getting you ready for me."
"I don' know what I'm doin'," she confided. "I've never been with a man." She took a breath. "Teach me, Remy. I want to please you."
He'd known that. Deep down inside, he'd known she'd waited for him. He slowly removed his fingers and brought them close to his face. She smelled like lavender all over. Even there. He licked at his fingers. "You even taste like lavender. Your scent drives me wild."
Before she could respond, he whirled her around, hands hard on her skin, taking her down to the bed, sprawling her out for him like a banquet. Bijou gasped, her long lashes fluttering, but he gave her no chance to protest, his mouth coming down hard on hers, robbing her of breath. He kissed her until her body melted into his, soft and pliant, once more moving restlessly beneath him.
With one hand he caught both of hers, and stretched her arms above her head, pinning her wrists to the mattress. Slipping one leg between her thighs, he opened her to him. Her scent was as wild and as elusive as she was. For so long, he'd always felt empty. He'd tried filling his nights with women, and when that didn't work, he turned to his career. Nothing seemed to help, until this night. This woman. He hadn't had her yet, but the taste and scent of her filled his every empty space until he burned for her. Knew her. Would never be complete again without her.
Maybe he'd never been complete and that was why his leopard was always prowling and hungry, so close to the surface. He recognized her in some strange, primitive way. She belonged with him. They belonged. His fingers curled around her throat, tipping her head back to expose her throat to him. He bent his head and kissed that long, slender line. She smelled so good, and her skin was unbelievably soft.
Her body kept moving, undulating, her hips bucking, her leopard pressing close to the surface helping to drive her need to mate. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each lifting her breasts and pushing them temptingly toward him. He kissed his way down to one taut peak and blew warm air over her nipple.
He stared down into those wild, glowing eyes. So beautiful. Her leopard was close, driving her so that her body couldn't stop moving beneath his, rubbing along his, until the roaring in his ears became a demand.
He stroked his palm down her throat, along her collarbone to the swell of her breasts. The rise and fall as her ragged breath left her lungs only added to the terrible temptation. He lowered his head and drew one dark nipple into his mouth. She cried out, and thrashed beneath him. He suckled, using the edge of his teeth to tug and pull, the weight of his body keeping her pinned and open to his exploration.
The little sounds escaping her throat drove him wild. His mouth pulled strongly at her breast while his fingers tugged and rolled her other nipple. She gasped and arched her body. He knew she was too innocent for such rough play but he couldn't stop himself. Each time he tugged and pulled, each time he bit, her hips bucked and she thrashed deliciously.
"Remy!" She tried to reach for him, but he stopped her, pushing her hands back against the mattress.
"Shh, Blue, just let me have my way right now," he cautioned. There was no turning back at this point, the scent of lavender and honey drifted up to him, calling, and he was lost.
Bijou couldn't take her eyes off the man she'd fantasized over nearly her entire life. No one else had ever measured up. No one else had ever made her body grow tight and needy or made her breasts ache or caused a flood of hot, welcoming liquid.
Physically, Remy was beautiful. There was no other word for it. He was the most sensual, sexy man she'd ever encountered. She dreamt of him, erotic, hot dreams she didn't dare remember when she was awake. He was tall and broad-shouldered with hard, defined muscles that rippled every time he moved. And when he moved, it was with such grace even that affected her, robbing her of her ability to think reasonably at times.
His hands moved over her with such expertise, rough against her sensitive breasts and soft, inner thighs. He had the most seductive mouth and he used it, his strong white teeth nipping and tugging, occasionally biting gently or with enough pressure to make her yelp, even as his tongue eased the sting.
She couldn't catch her breath, her head tossing on the pillow, but she couldn't take her eyes from him. He wrapped one arm around her hips, pinning her down, the other hand pushing her legs apart so he could wedge his broad shoulders between her thighs.
"Stay still, Blue. I've been waiting a long time for this."
His voice growled with hunger, and his eyes glowed a fierce nearly golden color. He looked as if he might devour her. Her heart went crazy, pounding in her chest and if she had one single iota of self-preservation, she would have run for her life, but she was desperate for him, for anything he would give her.
Her body was impatient for his, undulating without inhibition on the bed, trying to entice him, to tempt him. She wanted him as out of control as she was, her fists gripping the sheets, twisting and holding to stay still as he'd commanded.
He kissed his way down her breasts, across her flat belly. Her breath exploded from her lungs when his tongue dipped in her navel and licked and flicked there. She heard herself pant and her hips jerked, but he held her pinned with his casual strength. Again she felt the edge of his teeth as a warning, but that only inflamed her more.
His hand stroked up and down her thigh, and her entire body shuddered in response. She swore her temperature had soared out of control and each time his hand slipped over her thigh, hot liquid seeped from her body and deep inside her muscles contracted and pulsed in need.
He looked down at her with his strange cat's eyes, at the moisture seeping from her body and her writhing hips. A smile of pure male satisfaction, of total possession, as if what he was looking at belonged solely to him, softened the curve of his mouth. And she supposed she did belong to him. A small sob escaped.
"Remy, please. I'm not goin' to live through this. You have to do something."
She cou
ldn't believe that was her, pleading. Begging. She would be utterly humiliated under any other circumstances, but her body was on fire and she couldn't stop herself. Pulsing. Throbbing. Desperate for him to do something. Anything. Just give her some relief. Her blood roared in her ears, a thunder like no other she'd ever heard.
He spread her thighs even wider, until his impossibly broad shoulders held her legs apart, digging into her inner thighs. Her breath caught and held in her lungs as his head slowly descended. She felt his breath first. He blew warm air over her quivering mound. Every muscle tensed. Contracted. Waited. The room was utterly silent except for the pounding of her heart.
He looked at her again, this time without raising his head, and for a moment fear swept through her. He made a hot, snarly sound, much like the growl of an animal about to pounce on prey and devour it. She jerked, her fingers curling harder around the sheets.
The first swipe of his tongue through the hot, slick folds of her core had her crying out. Her entire body shuddered and if he hadn't been holding her down, she would have come up off the bed.
He lifted his head, glaring in reprimand, his eyes piercing and furious. "Don't." It was a single command.
Bijou realized Remy wasn't in control any more than she was. Of her, yes, but not necessarily of himself. He had said there would be no stopping, no going back, and she realized why. He had gone over that cliff with her and they both were in the throes of some passionate frenzy neither could stop.
He licked at her, his tongue much rougher than she expected. Her breath slammed out of her lungs. Her stomach muscles bunched painfully. Her breasts strained and ached. He held her down with one arm, licking at her like a large, hungry cat, devouring an endless supply of hot cream. Her head thrashed from side to side as she felt the tight muscles of her empty sheath spasm, sending more cream to be lapped up greedily.
Pleasure washed over her in strong, rippling waves. The sheet shredded beneath her fingernails, long rips she barely noticed. She couldn't stand much more. Her body was on fire, burning from the inside out. She could barely catch her breath, but he wouldn't stop. He refused to stop even when she tried pushing at his shoulders to warn him it was too much.
Her hips bucked again and again as his wicked tongue stabbed and explored. She felt his teeth on her most sensitive spot and she exploded, came apart, her body thrusting against his fingers and mouth while she mewled at the tormenting pleasure. He gave one last lick to her shuddering, swollen body and knelt up, dragging her closer to him.
His face could have been carved in stone. Sensuality was etched deep in every line. His eyes were hooded, piercing and watchful, but filled with such dark lust there was no resisting him. "You're mine," he whispered.
He may as well have shouted the words. His voice was low, a mere thread of sound, but the words blazed through her mind and burned into her soul.
"You belong to me." The head of his cock pressed hard against her slick entrance. "Do you understand? You're mine."
Giving up her soul seemed a small price to pay just to get him inside of her. The roaring in her head was rolling thunder now, an endless, shocking scream her own bloodstream demanded. She couldn't help herself. She nodded. Panted. Begged him. There was no stopping that desperate female voice, pleading with him to enter her. She'd give him anything he wanted. Just tell her.
He leaned forward, pressing the burning thick head of his cock inside of her, stretching her in spite of the slick cream she welcomed him with.
"All of you. Everything you are belongs to me."
She was depraved and shameless and wanton, but it didn't matter. A sob escaped. He had to be inside of her. Nothing else could stop the terrible burning. The need. Nothing else could fill her up and sate the wild, relentless demands of her body.
"Yes. Everything I am," she hissed. "Please, Remy. Please."
He slammed into her hard, ripping through her innocence, driving through tight, never-used muscles like a battering ram, invading her body with his thick, hard, hot shaft. Lightning zigzagged through her body, forks of burning fire. His hands were rough on her hips, holding her pinned down so he could thrust deep and hard over and over, setting a ferocious pace.
There was no time to catch her breath. No time to register pain before pleasure swamped her. Her body gripped his fiercely, pulsing and gushing, holding on tightly. Her sheath felt far too small. He was too large, stretching her mercilessly, but that only added to the tortuous pleasure. Her body grew tighter. More tense. The fire kept building higher and higher. There was no release. No way to stop.
He slammed into her over and over, rocking her with every brutal thrust. His fingers dug into flesh and he began jerking her into him each time he surged forward, sending whips of lightning dancing through her body, flicking her, flogging her with heat and fire. She opened her mouth to scream, to beg, but he just kept going, his eyes twin points of intensity, his face a mask of carved sensuality.
The bed rocked beneath them, shook and seemed alive. An ominous crack signaled a board beneath them snapping but he didn't stop. He drove between her thighs like a madman possessed, pummeling her with such force and so deep she was afraid he would drive through her. Still, she didn't want him to stop. Fear snaked through her that she wouldn't survive the intensity of their sexual heat, but that didn't matter either. The only thing that mattered to her was that living jackhammer pounding into her with such erotic fury.
She heard her own voice begging, but the roaring in her ears didn't allow interpretation. She just needed. She simply burned. She wanted to burn up with him. She felt him swelling, the friction impossibly increasing until she was afraid actual flames would burst from her. Still, that didn't matter to her, only that he find a way to make the terrible pressure, the never-ending need stop for just a moment.
Tension wound tighter as the frenzy of lust grew between them. His face was a mask of absolute resolve. He slammed into her again and again, a driving rhythm of furious, relentless passion. She heard her voice building in time with the rising pressure in her body. A raging inferno began slow, moving through her deceptively, and then picking up speed to spread fast, to engulf every part of her body.
She screamed. Went rigid. Felt his cock pulsing, swelling. All the while her body gripped his in a terrible stranglehold, the friction burning hotter than ever. She felt him stiffen. Gather himself. He thrust hard, driving deep and the heated spray of seed soaked her tender walls.
She fought to find her breath while her body rippled with life, squeezing and milking him, insisting she get every last drop. Moistening dry lips, she forced her lashes to stay up so she could look at his face. Beads of sweat clung to his hair and she felt a few of her own trickling down the side of her face and more between her breasts.
She couldn't move. Her body felt limp, a rag doll, no more. She could barely look at him. She'd been insane. In the thralls of some madness. She had never acted that way in her life and her behavior terrified her. Was she like Bodrie after all?
Remy leaned over her and brushed kisses to the corner of her eyes, his lips sipping as if tasting tears. She wasn't crying. She wouldn't allow herself to be such a baby, not when her body still pulsed around Remy's and blood, seed and cream from her own body were trickling down her thighs.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, the tip of her breast and with a soft groan, slipped from her body and rolled over. The action caused her body to ripple and heat more, like a terrible itch that just refused to go away. She pressed her lips together tightly and put her arm over her eyes. She was horrible. Insatiable. What the hell was wrong with her?
She'd had wild, crazy very rough sex. Her body was sore. Every muscle hurt, but deep inside, she could already feel the hunger growing. Maybe she had a sex addiction, but knowing it and stopping it were two different things. The fire between her legs grew. The tension gathered until it was no small itch, but a craving she wasn't going to be able to resist. She had to get away from Remy.
Bijou rolled
off the bed and landed on her hands and knees, desperate to escape herself.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Remy demanded, a snarl in his voice.
She looked over her shoulder at him. Bijou knew she shouldn't have been afraid. He was rough, but every time he touched her, he made certain she felt pleasure. She was too sensitive, her body on fire. It didn't make any sense to her that she hadn't felt sated. In a way she found it terrifying. She was as afraid of herself as she was of him.
Remy's eyes went totally feral. He reminded her of a great jungle cat about to devour his prey. A single sound escaped, a small note of confusion, or worse, excitement, and she turned away from, him, scrambling across the floor on all fours.
She tried to crawl away, her body still shuddering with pleasure, hungry for more, but afraid and confused by her own desperate needs. Near tears, Bijou couldn't imagine how she'd gone from being frigid with no physical interest in a man to such an insatiable, sensual creature who kept enticing and inciting Remy to more.
He growled a warning and was on her with the speed of a cat, catching her from behind and dragging her hips back into him. His heavy erection pressed against her slick body from behind. Remy wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her still while he thrust into her, filling her. She was so slick with the mixture of their sex, and she should have been easy to enter, but she wasn't, her body fighting the invasion and giving way reluctantly. That stretching sensation had a bite to it, but she didn't care. The small edge of pain only heightened the pleasure for her, humiliating her more. What was wrong with her?
He licked along her back, lapping at the tiny beads of sweat. His breath was hot as he alternated between teeth and tongue, making his way up her spine to the back of her neck. He ceased moving, holding her still, his body locked with hers. She pushed and bucked, but he refused to move, holding her there. Waiting.
Leopard's Prey Page 11
