Rule Breaker, Page 25

  her for the heavy width of the shaft spearing inside her.

  Fuck, it was so damned erotic.

  The sight of her slick dew soaking her silken folds, lying in a thick layer against the most delectable flesh. As his erection parted the folds, it clung to him, glistening on the heavily veined shaft as it was forced from inside her, coating him, slicking her.

  The excess of her moisture did nothing to ease the clenching tightness of her pussy, though. It flexed and milked the thick crest penetrating her before sucking at it, trying to draw him deeper. He could feel her stretching for him, hear her cries as she took each inch he worked inside her.

  She was so tight. So tight and sweet and hot that it was all he could do to bear it. Like a heavy fist clenching and unclenching around the sensitized head and shaft as he fucked inside her.

  “That’s it, baby,” he groaned as her hips jerked again, burying him deeper still. “Take me, just like that. So fucking tight and hot.”

  He lifted his gaze to her face, watching as her lashes drifted open. As her gaze met his, the short little nails tipping her fingers clenched on his lower arms and bit into his skin. An erotic demand, an assurance that she was as lost to the pleasure as he was becoming.

  “Kick your ass later,” she moaned, her hips shifting, pressing, working his cock deeper as he fought to keep from taking her like the animal he knew he was. Hard and fast, riding her until the explosion took them both.

  “You do that.” The snarl in his voice warned him—

  Ah God, he had to hold on, just a moment. Just a minute. He could feel the tight hug and flex of her cunt on his shaft, working it, stroking it. She was close. So fucking close to coming for him.

  Let him take her like the man he wanted to be—

  “Rule—” It was that edge of panic in her voice that pulled him back, that reminded him of the unique way the animal had of showing itself.

  “It’s okay, baby,” he promised, pressing deeper, the sharp sensitivity just beneath the head of his cock assuring him that release was rapidly approaching. “I swear. It’s all okay.”

  An involuntary flex of his hips had the silken flesh gloving him tightening further, clench and release, stroking him like a silky, slick fist, so fucking tight that the pleasure ripped through his balls.

  Her gaze was locked on his, the heated kiss of her juices against his cock head an added pleasure that tore at the fragile thread of his control. He wasn’t going to make it much longer. He couldn’t make it much longer.

  Pulling back until only the head of his erection remained inside her, Rule thrust against her sharply, burying halfway, pulled back, then drove his cock hard, deep, to bury full length inside the slick, too-snug flex of the sweetest little cunt he’d ever been inside.

  The pleasure . . .

  The sweet, brutal ecstasy . . .

  It was all the animal needed to break free.

  ...

  His eyes—the brilliant blue flared, darkened and brightened a second before it overtook even the whites of his eyes, the pupil becoming a perfectly round pit of coal black that reflected a sheen of blue from the color around it.

  It was a lion’s eyes. A blue-eyed lion that stared back at her, that watched her with savage intensity.

  Panic threatened at the edges of her mind. It would have overwhelmed her if he hadn’t pulled back, surged partway inside her, then eased back once more before a hard, driving thrust buried him to the hilt inside her.

  She couldn’t scream. There was no breath left to scream. As though that thrust were a trigger, the penetrating pleasure-pain exploded through her senses, raced through her bloodstream and blinded her with a wave of white-hot, blue-tinted ecstasy that completely overtook her world.

  It wasn’t pleasure. It wasn’t ecstasy.

  It was something so far above it that she could only convulse beneath him, thighs tightening on his hips, her breath suspended, and the knowledge, an innate distant knowledge that something so far outside belief as to be completely unbelievable had occurred.

  Something that she feared had bonded him to her in ways she had never believed she could be tied to anyone. Let alone a man.

  Or a Breed.

  The feel of what the tabloids called a Breed barb becoming engorged beneath the head of his cock, locking him inside her as it pulsed and throbbed, stimulating that too-sensitive area just behind her clit, inside her vagina. Heated, caressing as Rule released inside her, the jetting heat of his semen adding an additional sensation that spurred her pleasure higher.

  It was too much to bear.

  Too much pleasure. Too many sensations.

  Far too many emotions . . .

  CHAPTER 20

  The two days she’d spent running from Rule and his Breeds had been exhausting. So exhausting that fighting him once he found her would have been impossible. At least, that was the excuse she used that afternoon after coming awake, wrapped tight in his arms.

  Not just his arms. One muscular leg was thrown over hers, anchoring her to the bed. Behind her, the stiff, thick length of his cock pressed against her lower back, reminding her why she was there.

  He hadn’t wanted her until by some stroke of ill luck, nature had decided to use some freaky hormone to bind her to him. Now, he decided he wanted her? Wanted her so much that he had her locked to him like a well-loved wife?

  She so didn’t think so.

  “Let me go.” She pushed at the arm lying over her, the anger of the past two days rising inside her even as the arousal began a hard, heated simmer between her thighs.

  Dammit, she hadn’t even had a shower yet. After he’d taken her, after that “something” had locked inside her and sent her spiraling into a complete rapturous meltdown, she hadn’t even had the energy to keep her eyes open, let alone drag her ass out of the bed to shower.

  Damn him.

  “Dammit, let me the fuck go.” She rammed her elbow into his side with enough force to bring him instantly awake.

  “What?” the grouch grumbled, his arm tightening around her.

  “Get your damned leg off me, Rule,” she snapped, infuriated. “I have to get out of this bed now.”

  “Why?” He snuggled sleepily against her back, which only pissed her off further.

  “I don’t need a damned body cuff,” she informed him furiously as she struggled against him. “Now let me the hell go so I can go to the bathroom.”

  A grumbling little growl vibrated in his throat, but thankfully, he released her, albeit slowly.

  “Hurry,” he mumbled, burying his head in her pillow as she glanced back at him.

  Irritation surged inside her. He had just completely fucked up her entire life and all he wanted to do was sleep?

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, asshole,” she muttered with a silent snort before heading quickly to the bathroom.

  She could smell him all over her. That man-and-midnight-storm scent with a hint of peppermint and chocolate. Hell, she was starting to crave chocolate because of him.

  She really needed to convince herself she hated him. That was what she needed to do. Maybe then that mating hormone stuff would just go away and leave her alone. Because right now, it was making its presence known by sensitizing her clit and the inner muscles of her sex in a way that was highly distracting.

  She had things to do today. She didn’t have time to lie around in bed with a crazy Breed.

  He had to be crazed. What other explanation could there be for him jumping away from her as though she were diseased two nights before, then spending two days canvassing the Navajo Nation in his search for her.

  Crazy-ass, that was what he was.

  And those eyes.

  As she flipped on the shower and adjusted the temperature, a shiver raced through her at the memory of his eyes. The whites hadn’t existed. His entire eye had turned blue with the exception of the black, center pupil. Like a lion. Like a predator.

  It was damned sexy . . . no, it wasn’t sexy, it was damned f
reaky, she amended furiously.

  Collecting the items needed for her shower, she stepped beneath the stinging spray, lowered her head and let the water beat down on her.

  She wanted to cry now. She hadn’t cried in nine years, and she wasn’t going to start now because it sure as hell wouldn’t help. It didn’t solve anything. It would just make her head hurt. And the last thing she needed was another headache. The man lying in the bed in the other room was enough headache for any woman.

  Washing her hair quickly before conditioning the long mass of dark brown strands, Gypsy tried to keep her mind off the ache her body was turning into, and on the rest of the day instead.

  It was late afternoon.

  She had a meeting scheduled with her parents at their home office regarding that stupid contract they were signing with the Bureau of Breed Affairs. Jonas had announced that the new office would be opening but had held back the news that an assistant director and several liaisons had already been appointed.

  That announcement was supposed to come after the initial phase of introducing Rule, Malachi and Stygian to the business community in the tri-county area had been accomplished.

  Her mother already had a schedule outlined that was guaranteed to strip Gypsy of the last of her patience where Rule was concerned.

  Rinsing the suds from her body as she turned beneath the spray, she was somehow not surprised to come to a hard stop as her shoulder hit the immovable obstacle that stepped into the shower with her.

  “Showering without me?” Rich, normal blue eyes stared down at her as steamy water sluiced over the hard-muscled, darkly tanned flesh of his body.

  God, he was almost a work of art.

  There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body. The power beneath the tough flesh was obvious, just as the intelligence that gleamed in his eyes couldn’t be missed.

  “I would love to.” Her smile was tight and she knew it.

  She didn’t want a confrontation while she was naked, but that gleam in his eyes assured her that he didn’t mind at all.

  Rivulets of water curled around his neck, running in narrow streams down his body as her gaze tracked them. They curled over and around the heavy width of his erection before falling down his powerful legs.

  Not that she bothered to follow the path along his legs. Her gaze stopped on the heavily veined shaft spearing out from his body. The heavy throb of blood beneath the flesh matched the pulse evident in the flared crest that pointed demandingly toward her.

  His cock screamed intent. Throbbing beneath her gaze, clenching as she licked her lips nervously, it was a temptation she really needed to refuse.

  She might play the seductress, but as Rule knew, until two nights before, she’d never been with a man. She hadn’t gone parking, she hadn’t almost had sex, she hadn’t been a false virgin with the experience to please a man to any point.

  But God help her, all she wanted to do was fill her mouth with the fierce throb of the stiffly engorged, flared crest of his cock. She wanted to lick it. Suck it. She wanted to feel it throbbing like that on her tongue just before he began fucking her mouth because he wanted her so bad he couldn’t control the urge to do so.

  She’d dreamed of that more than once since seeing him for the first time.

  A moan whispered through the air around her as she felt his thumb and the side of his finger grip her nipple, tugging at it, tightening on the nubbin of flesh with a firm strength that sent shards of sensation racing straight to her pussy.

  What the hell was she doing?

  Licking her lips again, she obeyed the need that had her lowering herself to her knees, losing the pleasure attacking her nipple for a pleasure she couldn’t deny herself.

  Leaning forward, lips parting, she felt one hand lock in the hair at the back of her head, and her lashes fluttered with the sharp sensation of his fingers clenching the strands as he tugged at them.

  Her tongue met the engorged crest first, curled around it, licking it as her lips followed, drawing him inside the hungry depths of her mouth.

  Okay, she’d read books.

  She’d seen it on some of the late-night, hard-core movies she’d watched over the years. She knew the basics. And Rule seemed to be appreciating those basics immensely.

  “Ah fuck,” he groaned above her as she gripped the base of the shaft firmly and began moving her mouth and tongue over the sensitive head. “Gypsy, sweetheart. That’s it. Fuck. That’s it, baby, suck me deep just like that.”

  Just like that. As deep as she could take him as she worked her fingers over the hard shaft, feeling the blood pound in the thick veins beneath the iron-hard flesh.

  The hunger assailing her wasn’t as unfamiliar as she wanted to convince herself it was, though. Over the years, her body had reminded her often that she was a woman rather than just a tool for vengeance.

  The ache in her pussy and swollen clit was amplified, but many nights she had spent in her lonely bed masturbating, to the point of tears because the release she needed wasn’t there.

  Yes, she too had been a false virgin, no matter how her anger wanted to pretend otherwise.

  She wasn’t a virgin of any sort now. She was no longer a tool of vengeance, and she would pay for allowing that to happen later. Right now, she was just a woman—a hungry, aching woman. One whose senses were completely filled with the Breed whose cock was shuttling between her lips. Her tongue licked and stroked hungrily over the hot flesh as the taste of him and her hunger for him raged out of control.

  His hand was locked in the hair at the back of her head, clenching and pulling at the strands, sending arcs of explosive sensation racing through her, over her.

  A heavy pulse flexed beneath the erection she held captive, a hint of salty male and midnight teasing her taste buds as pre-cum escaped the narrow slit at the tip of his cock. The taste brought a low moan from her lips, the need for more than a teasing hint of his pleasure rushing through her system.

  Tightening her grip at the base of his shaft, she slid her free hand from his thigh to between his legs to find his tightly drawn testicles. As her fingers caressed him there, finding the spheres hidden beneath her touch, he groaned her name.

  The sound of it was a hoarse, growling rasp that sent her senses spinning in pleasure. The sound of a man’s pleasure shouldn’t send sensation racing through her with the same strength that his touch would. Or with the same pleasure.

  Yet it did.

  Her womb clenched, her clit swelling impossibly further as her pussy slickened for him.

  Sucking the thick flesh deeper, Gypsy held it deep within her mouth, her tongue working against the sensitive underside as she suckled the broad head, loving the taste and feel of him in her mouth.

  The intimacy of it. The pleasure she swore she could feel emanating from him seemed to wrap around her, sink inside her and whip the conflagration of sensations rising through her senses higher than ever before.

  ...

  What the fuck was she doing to him?

  Rule felt every muscle in his body tightening, burning, pleasure rushing through his flesh like a thousand tingling slashes against every nerve ending in his body. The feel of her mouth drawing on the sensitive head of his dick was destroying him. The pleasure was tearing through him, raking across his senses and giving a part of him that had been wild, uncontrolled and inconsolable completely to the woman kneeling before him.

  As her tongue pressed firmly against the underside of his cock, he could feel the brutal pleasure gathering just beneath it. The flared head pulsed and swelled further even as it tightened with agonizing pleasure. He could feel the barb that would only distend once he was buried inside her, surrounded to the hilt by her lush heat, pulsing in time to the blood rushing through his veins.

  Adrenaline called forth by the pleasure tearing through him filled his senses. That rush of power and strength was an incredible high during battle, but rushing through his system now, powered by Mating Heat, aflame with the scent of her hunger for
him, it was like nothing he had ever known.

  Even the powerful hallucinogenics, the incredible drugged highs and mind-numbing lows he’d experienced in the labs had nothing on the sensations ravaging his senses now.

  There was no such thing as control. There was no holding back.

  His fingers locked in her hair, his gaze locked on the ecstatic expression of her face, he knew that control, reason or holding back was nothing he wanted when it came to the lush eroticism of this woman.

  His mate.

  “Gypsy, now is the time to pull back.” The animal was taking control. Rule could feel his senses expanding, narrowing, centering on the woman and nothing more. On the hunger clawing at him, beating in his soul and demanding he take her.

  Possess her.

  Imprint upon her the fact that she belonged to him.

  This was his mate.

  She was the man’s woman. The man’s heart.

  But she was the animal’s mate, and here, at this time, the animal ruled. The creature that existed within his genetics, within the soul of the man, had been held back long enough.

  As her lashes drifted open, her pretty green eyes dark and filled with hunger, gleaming with feminine defiance, Rule lost the battle.

  ...

  Gypsy could feel him. He was close. His testicles were drawn tight, his cock throbbing, the crest flared and pounding fiercely as the taste of salt and male arousal teased her senses.

  She’d wondered what it would be like with him, loving him with her lips, with her tongue, feeling him thrusting past her lips until he found his pleasure with her.

  She was certain it would happen within seconds.

  “Gypsy, now is the time to pull back.” The sound of his voice was so ragged then, so harsh and animalistic that she knew what she would see when she opened her eyes.

  She told herself to keep her eyes closed. She didn’t want to see what would meet her eyes.

  But she had never listened to that inner voice as she should, so why should she start now?

  Her lashes drifted open.

  Brilliant, neon blue filled his gaze, his entire eye. In the center, the black iris had morphed, slitted just a bit to assure her that it wasn’t the man staring back at her. The animal his genetics were drawn from watched her, and he was tired of waiting on the man to—

  “No.” The protest was instinctive as he pulled back, removing the treat she’d believed was within seconds of releasing into her mouth.

  He snarled at her. A low, feral sound that had her eyes widening, a gasp tearing from her as she suddenly found herself staring at the shower wall. Behind her, one hard hand gripped her hip to hold her in place as the other planted itself between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward firmly.

  “Damn you—” She froze the second she’d moved to struggle against him.

  Suddenly he was covering her, sharp canines, dangerously strong, gripping the muscle at the bend of her neck as he growled a low, harsh warning.

  She should have been terrified.

  She should have been fighting.

  Instead, she lost her breath, gasping with a surge of such incredible pleasure that her lashes fluttered in a gesture of instinctive submission to him.

  She would hate herself later, she decided. Maybe tomorrow.

  Maybe next week.

  She wasn’t going to do anything to dull or take away from the incredibly erotic sensations rushing through her body. Pleasure stormed her senses. It exploded at the sensitive flesh of her neck, spilled through the rest of her body, and when the hard crest of his cock pressed against the swollen folds of her pussy, her juices had her so slick, so ready for him that when he pressed against the entrance, the tip of his cock wedged inside easily.

  Then came the real pleasure.

  Gypsy’s back arched, a cry tearing from her lips as the first heavy thrust buried only a few inches of his shaft inside her. Steamy water flowed around them, blocked only marginally by his broad back. It heated the cubicle further, steaming the glass door, filling the area with a moist heat that only further sensitized her flesh.

  Pulling back, he gave her only a second to draw another breath before he was plunging inside her again, then again. Four heavy thrusts before he lodged fully inside her, stretching her, sending sharp spasms of incredible pleasure piercing each nerve ending inside her pussy.

  Her fingers curled against the shower floor, the tile smooth, warm beneath her. Above her, Rule was harder, hotter. Buried inside her, his cock throbbing, pounding against her overstretched vagina and clouding her senses with a drugging pleasure.

  She was crying his name, begging, and she had no idea what she was begging for until he began moving.

  His fingers tightened at her hip as he planted his other hand on the shower floor in front of her. Gypsy braced her shoulder against the clenched muscles of his arm, turning her head and biting into the tough flesh as he began thrusting fiercely inside her.

  Each penetration was a shock of agonizing pleasure. The rasp of the flared crest against her inner tissue stoked the need to climax to a painful level. She was crying out his name, her pussy clenching on each quick thrust, desperate to hold him inside her. The iron-hard width stretched her until each thrust exerted just enough pressure to her swollen clit to drive her insane there.

  Her senses were being thrown out of control. Pleasure intensified to the point that she was certain she couldn’t stand another second. Couldn’t bear the need to orgasm for a heartbeat longer, only to be thrown higher. To burn hotter.

  “Rule, please. Damn you, let me c