Perfect Mate

by Mina Carter

  Reaching out, he traced a fingertip softly down her cheek. Her skin was smooth and fragrant. Despite the hard night, he could smell the faint trace of the floral perfume she’d used yesterday. She used strawberry shampoo and wore no hairspray. He smiled. He didn’t like hairspray. It made him sneeze.

  She tilted her head, baring her throat as he trailed his fingertips over it. A sensual submission so simple it stole his breath away.

  “Lillian.” Her name was a prayer and a demand rolled into one as he hauled her into his arms. He couldn’t wait another moment to touch her and make her his.

  Bending his head, he claimed her lips in the softest of kisses. While everything male in him urged him to crush her to him and take what he wanted, he held it off. He wasn’t an animal. He would do this properly. Like a man.

  His lips whispered over hers, learning their shape and texture. The sharp bite of fear in her scent faded, leaving something warmer in its wake: the exotic, alluring aroma of her interest.

  His large hand slid into her hair, curling around the silken locks to cup the back of her head and tilt it for better access to her lips. She shivered against him, a movement that had nothing to do with being cold. He smiled against her lips. She was his. He knew it, and she knew it.

  Gently, he nibbled on her lower lip. His teeth were human-blunt, but even so, he couldn’t risk breaking the skin and infecting her with the virus that lived within him. The medical bods had tried to explain it to him once. The virus could only take hold if he bit or scratched someone and it got injected directly into the bloodstream. It wouldn’t kill her, but it would change her. He wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t take away her humanity like that.

  She sucked a breath in, her lips parting on a tiny, sexy little noise that went straight to the already hard cock in his pants. He didn’t waste the opportunity, gathering her closer still and dipping his tongue between her parted lips.

  She tasted like sunshine and long, hot summer nights. Of everything he thought he’d lost when they’d made him what he was. Need and longing hit him hard. All he wanted to do was tear the clothes from her slender frame, tumble her to the floor and take her until she screamed his name.

  Instead, he drew back and nibbled her lip again. She moaned in pleasure, the sound lost in his mouth and he felt like the most powerful man in the world. Repeating the move, he tried to get her to follow him, teasing her with his tongue until she growled in frustration. Her hands, which had been stroking over his shoulders and back, moved to cup the sides of his face as she kissed him back.

  “You, sir, are a tease.” Lillian broke away to complain. She looked up into bright, piercing blue eyes and tried to muster a smile. It was a half-hearted attempt. How could she smile when she felt like she’d been run over by a truck at Mach 1 and all she wanted to do was strip his combat pants from his delectable body and screw him until he begged for mercy?

  His eyes twinkled with amusement and something else. Something hotter and darker that took her breath away. It drew her like a moth to the flame and, like that moth, she suspected she was going to get burned. Right now, though, she really didn’t care.

  She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him again. He held her so tight her breasts were mashed against his broad chest, the beaded pebbles of her nipples caught between them. They ached. Twin pulses of need that arrowed down to the throb building between her thighs.

  She didn’t know what had come over her. She’d never reacted to a guy like this before. Ever.

  A suspicion forming in her mind, she pulled away to look up at him. “You haven’t done anything freaky to me, have you? Like, you haven’t got any weird pheromones making me act like a—”

  She closed her mouth with a click. She had been going to say “slut”. Color rose on her cheeks, burning so hot she could cook eggs.

  He frowned and searched her eyes for a moment. A small smile curved his lips. He chuckled and shook his head.

  “No, I don’t have any freaky pheromones, sweetheart. What you’re feeling is there because you want to feel it. Natural human reactions, that’s all.”

  “Oh, good.” She breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at him, abruptly a little shy.

  “So…if I said I wanted to drag you into the bedroom back there and…” She swallowed her nerves, gathered her courage and blurted out, “…have sex until both of us were exhausted, what would you say?”

  His nostrils flared as his expression tightened.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to have sex with you, Lillian…”

  A sickening feeling hit her low in the gut. Oh my God. Her heart thundered in her chest. Her vision grayed around the edges. Had she got the signals wrong? Had she just propositioned a man who was just kissing her to comfort her? Screw the eggs, her cheeks were hot enough to power a city. She should have kept her mouth shut.

  “I want to make love to you. Slowly, completely, until all you think about is me. The pleasure I make you feel.”

  She couldn’t speak. His words, the images her over-eager imagination fed her, short-circuited her brain. All she could do was nod dumbly and wrap her arms around his shoulders.

  He didn’t say anything else, just held her gaze with his. His eyes were forget-me-not blue, not amber. Tension stretched between them like an elastic band. Any moment now, it would snap.

  Her hands smoothed over the hard muscles of his back. What would it be like to feel him moving over her, within her…? All that power and strength bent to pleasure instead of the pain these Project people had decreed. She only knew what he’d told her about them, but the phrase “sons of bitches” seemed more than apt.

  “God, sweetheart, don’t look at me like that,” he groaned, leaning down and stealing another quick, hard kiss before sweeping her up into his arms.

  “Why not? Like what?”

  He shook his head, full lips quirking up. “You know what I mean, little minx,” he said as he carried her through into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  He carried her easily, even though Lillian knew she was no lightweight. She had too many curves and actually liked to eat rather than pick at her food and complain about the fat on a lettuce leaf. Jack was gorgeous, so why he was interested in her she didn’t know, but she could see it on his face as he looked at her. He made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. For that alone, she’d walk through the fires of Hell.

  His arms were like iron bands around her back and under her knees. She didn’t bother worrying whether she was too heavy. He wasn’t human. She might have finally tipped over the edge into madness, but that little fact didn’t bother her anymore. In fact, the differences between them both thrilled and fascinated her.

  Silence filled the room. There was no need for talk. Looks and touches were enough. He paused by the small bed and put her down, every curve pressing against the plains of his hard, muscled body. Her breath caught in anticipation and sensual excitement. All that power and control, hers to command.

  His hands stayed lightly on her hips as she reached out to touch him. The world outside the closed door ceased to exist. For now, it was just the two of them in the little room, with the sun beating at the window and the smell of summer hanging in the air. Her lips pursed as she traced the scars over his skin. Too many hurts, so much violence.

  Leaning down, she kissed them one by one, as though she could kiss the hurts away. Under her lips, his skin was satin heat, his scent clean and earthy at the same time, like the forest after the rain. She moved down, the muscles beneath her kisses jumping when she reached his abdomen.

  “Might want to be careful down there, sweetheart. Straying into dangerous territory.” His soft chuckle was a little shaky as she neared his waistband.

  The area below it was tented impressively, the heavy length of his erection pressing hard against the zipper. A wicked grin on her lips, Lillian shot him a look, then leaned down to plant a kiss against the fabric.

  Jack swore, h
is hand finding its way into her hair. Emboldened by his reaction, she opened her mouth and grazed her teeth lightly over the head of his cock within the fabric.

  “Fucking hell. You’re killing me,” he groaned as he tightened his fist in her hair to hold her in place. Not too tight, but enough that she could tell he was fighting to stay in control.

  The devil on her shoulder couldn’t leave it at that. It just couldn’t. It would only be content with pushing this powerful man as far as she could and damn the consequences. Sliding to her knees, she started to unbutton the waistband of his pants.

  He shifted, spreading his legs for better balance. The low rumble that escaped his chest was a mixture of pure torment and eager anticipation. The first button popped, then the second. By the third, his cock sprang free eagerly, as if it couldn’t wait to be in her hands.

  He was huge. Lillian swallowed nervously. She’d seen him before, but he looked bigger now. Worringly so. Her mind did a rapid rewind. Every time he’d held her, kissed her, he’d never pressed fully against her. Had he been worried about scaring her?

  A huff escaped her throat. She wasn’t that easily scared. Wrapping her hands around the thick, purple-headed shaft, she explored him with soft touches and strokes. He watched her, his eyes midnight with desire. She liked that, liked that he liked to watch. It spurred her on, encouraged her to do things she wouldn’t have done otherwise.

  Wouldn’t have done otherwise? Hell, she was already out of her comfort zone and heading over the horizon. Not a prude by any stretch of the imagination, most of her sexual experiences had been with “safe” men. Men who undressed and folded their clothes as they went. Men who liked sex with the light off. In a bed. Once a week. Men she quickly got bored with, needing something else, needing something more.

  Wrapped in her own little world, she leaned forward and licked him experimentally. Her tongue contacted the wide head of his shaft and his taste exploded on her tongue. Musky and salty-sweet, it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, she liked it, which couldn’t be said for some of her previous partners.

  Letting that thought drift away, she concentrated on what she was doing. Licking again with the flat of her tongue, she wrapped her lips around the flushed head of his cock. He gasped a strangled, choked-off sound as she hummed in pleasure and amusement.

  She smiled around him and slid him deeper into the warm wetness of her mouth. He tasted good, and although she’d never been particularly fond of this act before, she was developing a new appreciation for it.

  “Oh God, sweetheart. That feels so good.”

  Jack held her hair lightly. Not to control her but, she suspected, more to have something to hold on to and ground himself with. Feminine satisfaction ran through her. She loved that he was so gentle even though his body trembled as he held still. She loved the fact she had this power over him, even though he could easily snap her in two if he wanted.

  His cock jerked under her hands and lips, the big vein on the underside of the shaft pulsing. A drop of pre-come leaked from the slit at the tip. She lapped it up eagerly. A tortured groan left his lips as she took her time about it, and he pulled away.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I won’t last long enough like that,” he whispered as she pouted. His hand still in her hair, he urged her to her feet and backward onto the bed. “And I have far more I want to do to you, and with you, before that happens.”

  They fell onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs as he rolled over her. His fingers looped around her wrists, and he pulled them over her head, pinning her in sensual slavery under his hard body. She arched her back and pressed her breasts against the solidly muscled expanse. They ached, she ached, her pussy ached…an ache she knew instinctively only he could ease.

  “You’re wearing way too many clothes,” he breathed by her ear, then paid homage to it, nibbling along the edge before pulling the lobe into his mouth and suckling. His tongue played with the tiny gold loop she wore, the flickering motion shooting hot and cold chills through her body.

  “Then take them off,” she panted, baring her neck. She needed more. More of his kisses, more of everything he was doing…more of him.

  He chuckled, the sound a rumble against the tender skin of her throat. “Bossy little minx, but who I am to argue?”

  The question was rhetorical, so Lillian didn’t bother to reply. His large hands moved over her with a speed that spoke of desperation, and an efficiency that said he knew his way around women’s clothing.

  Somehow, she didn’t think he was a cross-dresser.

  “Done this a few times before, huh?”

  She arched an eyebrow at him as he unsnapped her pants and yanked them down her legs. Her blouse was just as swiftly whipped up over her head.

  He sat back on his knees and looked down at her. Lillian shivered at the heat in his gaze, like a blue inferno. Suddenly she was pleased she’d worn something pretty for work. Floral satin, the pattern tiny and delicate, covered her breasts, and the tiny thong made her feel that little bit naughty. Even though she didn’t have a boyfriend, she liked expensive lingerie, liked the feel and sensuality of it against her skin.

  Correction, she hadn’t had a boyfriend.

  Although…was boyfriend the right word to use for the man looming over her with carnal intent in his gaze? It was far too benign and nice a word for the heat that licked at her skin and dampened the lace between her thighs.

  His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened another notch, until she was looking into midnight velvet. The humor died away as he leaned down and drew a line from her lips, all the way down her body with his fingertips. He traced the deep cleavage between her breasts and onward, down over her stomach until he reached the lace of her thong.

  Sliding a finger under the tie on one side, he pulled it down, inch by slow inch. He didn’t speak as his other hand joined the first in a mirror image, hooking under the lace and satin. She swallowed as the panties slipped down over her hips, her thighs. The lace between her legs peeled away, as though he were unwrapping a birthday present, to reveal the neat, dark triangle of clipped hair that covered her mons.

  “Perfect.”

  His voice was so soft she wasn’t sure she heard him properly, until he repeated himself. “Absolutely perfect.”

  He pulled the thong free, the satin skimming over her legs and feet to hit the floor somewhere behind him. His large hands wrapped around her delicate ankles and urged her legs apart. Soundlessly she obeyed, transfixed by the feral look on his face.

  He was going to…oh God, he was.

  Her eyes fluttered closed, unable to process anything but the feel of his lips across her skin as he kissed his way back up the inside of her leg. He paused for a second to flirt with the back of her knee, but soon moved on again and blazed a trail of kisses over her inner thigh. His broad shoulders forced her legs wider.

  Even though the room was warm, being completely open as she was meant her pussy was exposed. A shiver rolled through her as a slight breeze of cooler air from the window washed over her lips and teased at her clit.

  “More than perfect—amazing.”

  His voice was reverent. She bit her lip as his warm breath replaced the cooler breeze. Everything within her narrowed down to the ache between her legs and his next movement. Anticipation roared unchecked. Time slowed as she waited.

  He brushed his tongue over her, and she nearly came off the bed. Pleasure cascaded as he circled her clit once and latched on, drawing the little bud of pleasure into his mouth to suckle on it. He sucked, nibbled and licked, concentrating on the tiny button of flesh. He didn’t let up, driving her higher and higher with his lips and tongue until she couldn’t breathe. She needed to come. Needed it so much that she was going to go insane with wanting.

  Broken whimpers and pants filled the room. Belatedly, Lillian realized they were hers. Her hands twisted and tormented the sheets on the small bed as Jack gorged himself on his sensual feast.

  “Oh…oh my God, I’m coming,” she
gasped, tapping at his arm as he cupped her breast through the lace. A silent signal for him to stop. Her previous boyfriend had always wanted her to wait to come until he was in her. Since it took him under a minute to finish, sometimes she had to get the timing right, or the main event was done and dusted before she got into her groove again. She’d made up for the loss with a large collection of vibrators.

  Jack didn’t stop. Instead, he growled and continued to feast, lashing her over-sensitive clit with his tongue until she screamed and shattered around him. Pleasure hit her hard, a blitzkrieg of sensation that left her breathless as it rolled through and around her. Jack thrust his tongue deep inside her, tongue-fucking her as she spasmed and stretched the feeling out until she was weak with the force of it.

  “Oh my. That was…”

  He pulled away as the last tremors rolled through her and crawled up her body. His long fingers hooked into the front of her bra and released the heavy fullness of her breasts to his hot gaze and hotter lips.

  “Amazing. Simply amazing. You’re amazing,” he finished for her, his hair-roughened thighs brushing against hers. The bed shifted as he dipped his hips and fit the broad head of his cock against the slick wet lips of her pussy.

  She bit her lip again as he slipped half an inch into her without pushing. She was so wet…she’d never been this wet for anyone before.

  “Please,” she murmured, and lifted her hips in invitation. He slid another few inches, and her body stretched around him.

  With a mingled groan of need and feral possession, he pushed into her all the way. It was a long, hot ride of pleasure as his thick cock stroked every nerve ending in her sensitive feminine sheath. Finally his hips met hers, his cock kissed the entrance to her womb and she had to try and remember how to breathe.

  “God, you’re tight. I’ve never felt anything so wonderful before.”

  He braced himself on one forearm, planted in the sheets next to her head. Holding his body rigid, he closed his eyes. She gripped his upper-arms as she waited for the slightly uncomfortable, full feeling to fade. She felt stretched, stuffed beyond capacity, and it burned.