Dash held her close to his chest, breathing roughly, fighting his own shock and horror until he could finally pull free of her, exiting her pussy as it gave a soft, resounding farewell kiss to his flesh.
Chapter Twenty
He had meant to move away from her, to leave the bed, the room, to find someplace away from the sweet scent of her heat where he could think. Where he could consider this new, shocking development clearly. But as he moved from her, she whispered his name. Drowsy with repletion, her body exhausted from the demands he had made on her, it had sighed over his flesh like a whisper of silk as she moved against him.
She tugged at him, pulling him down beside her, moving into his arms and laying her head against his chest. He stared down at the tangle of dark hair that spilled to the bed. One slender leg crossed over his; her arm lay over his stomach. He was tied as securely to the bed now as he would have been if it had been chains instead of one delicate woman.
What was he supposed to do? Tentatively, he turned to her and wrapped his arms around her, expecting the position to be uncomfortable. It wasn’t. She fit against him as though she had been made for him.
He had never allowed himself to hold a woman after sex. Had never felt comfortable enough, or relaxed enough to sleep with one. And he had sure as hell never been able to keep from pulling away from one. But Elizabeth was different. In more ways than one.
God. What had he done to her? He closed his eyes, swallowing tightly at the remembrance of the thick swelling into her already snug pussy. Like an animal. But nothing could eliminate the fact that the pleasure had been so intense, so much deeper than anything he had known, that he wanted nothing more than to repeat it.
Instead, he held her against him and let her rest. He hoped she was sleeping. Prayed she was sleeping. Because if she wasn’t, there wasn’t a chance in hell he could keep from taking her again.
Dash let his fingers sink into the soft waves of hair that flowed over his chest and down her back. She was such a creature of sensuality, hot and erotic once the restraints had come off. She had burned him alive.
He rested his chin against her head, wondering at this strange change within him. He knew she was his woman. His mate. He had accepted it over a year ago when his commander had first begun reading him Cassie’s letters. There was no other way to explain the soul-deep possessiveness that had filled him, the inborn knowledge and rage that had gripped him while buried beneath the drugs as his body healed. He had known her. Known her laughter, her touch, had known her heat. By the time he awoke, he had been filled with a determination to hurry and heal and strengthen that he had never known before.
He had amazed the doctors who had fought to save his life. He had exhausted his therapists as he worked to get stronger. Every minute of that long, painful battle, all he thought of was Elizabeth and Cassie. His woman and his child. They needed him. He needed them.
The response of his body to her had been shocking, though. Never had he done anything like that with another woman. Never had he produced an ejaculation like the small, slick spurts of fluid that had eased her vagina around him. And never had he conceived that anything could have occurred like the thick swelling that locked him deep inside her already tight vagina.
It had been like nothing he could have imagined. Filling her with his seed, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell that so much as a drop of it could spill before being given the chance…
Oh hell. The chance to impregnate her. He swallowed tightly. She wasn’t on the pill. He knew she wasn’t on the pill. And for the first time in his life he had taken a woman without even thinking about protection.
His cock jerked and seemed to harden further at the thought of making a child with Elizabeth, one as sparkling and filled with life as Cassie. Perhaps a little boy. One that was tall and strong and filled with the same sense of determination and strength as his mother. His arms tightened around her, his heart racing as he imagined the family he could have. The family he had never dared dream of until now.
———
Elizabeth lay silent, still. Dash wasn’t restless but he wasn’t sleeping, either. She could feel his chest beneath her cheek, his heart racing, feel the tense readiness of his body. She would have moved from him, but when she glanced from the shield of her lashes, down the length of his tall body, she had seen his erection, thick and strong, still glistening from their combined releases as it lay against his lower belly.
The flesh was at least as thick as her wrist. Long, steel-hard. The mushroom-shaped head was a dark color, almost violet, indicating the level of Dash’s arousal. Not more than her own, she thought. Even now, mere minutes after she had managed to pull him down beside her, she still ached to feel him buried within her once again, locking tight and hard inside her.
She barely controlled a weak hitch of her breath at the memory of the swelling. She knew what it was. Just as she now knew what the silky ejaculations had been. A lubricating fluid, somehow enhanced to relax the desperate tightness of the female channel. She had felt it when the fluid mixed with her own juices, heating inside her, easing the resistance in her vagina as he pushed past the snug muscles of her pussy.
It had done the same to her mouth, her tongue. Before he had pulled free she had wondered if she could take that bulging head clear to her throat. It was amazing. Unlike anything she could have imagined. Yet, not completely unexpected.
Elizabeth wasn’t fooling herself in any way. She had wondered if it would happen. Wondered if he possessed not just the sense of the wolf, but in some part, the sexuality as well.
The Feline Breeds called their women their mates. In one interview, Callan Lyons and his wife had been amazingly reticent about the sexuality Callan displayed. But Elizabeth had known that something had bonded them closer than just love. She could see it in their faces, in their eyes as they gazed at each other. That little glimmer of a secret. And she had been envious.
She knew Dash would have warned her beforehand if he knew this would happen. Knew he wouldn’t have hidden it from her. And he had been even more surprised than she had.
It filled her with a sense of pride, of feminine possessiveness, to know that he had not given that experience to any other woman. It was hers alone. As shocking, as amazing as it had been, it was still hers alone. Just as that magnificent hard-on was hers. Period.
She watched as it flexed, throbbed. Tempted her. Her hand smoothed over Dash’s chest as he suddenly tensed further, down his abdomen, across the top of his thigh.
“Elizabeth.” His voice was dark, thick, his fingers tightening in her hair.
“Hmm?” She caressed her way between his powerful legs, her fingers moving slowly until she was cupping the smooth, silken sac of his scrotum. “Why don’t you have any hair here?”
“Ah God.” His hips arched as she caressed his testicles softly, running her fingers over the ultra-smooth, obviously ultra-sensitive, flesh. “Because I’m a Breed.” He seemed to have pushed the words between clenched teeth.
“Am I hurting you?” She stilled, watching the soft pearl of liquid forming at the opened eye of his cock.
“No,” he breathed out roughly. “But are you sure you want to keep this up?”
“Mmm.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, watching his hard flesh jerk as she cupped the sac more fully within her palm. “I’m sure.”
“Elizabeth,” he groaned as she moved lower, her lips stroking over his flexing abdomen. “Baby. Wait.”
“For what?” Her hand stroked up from his testicles to the hard shaft of his cock.
Her fingers couldn’t circle it, but she could stroke it. She watched as her hand slid up the thick pole, her finger rubbing over the slick essence that seeped from his cock.
“We need to talk.” His voice was strained. “About earlier. Elizabeth, we have to figure this out.”
“What’s there to figure out?” She laid her head on his lower stomach, the bulging head of his erection just below her. Before he could speak, her tongue peeked from her lips and swiped along the glistening head of his cock.
“Oh hell. Elizabeth,” he muttered, his fingers tangling in her hair as the muscles of his abdomen clenched harshly.
She went lower, despite the pressure he exerted on the strands he gripped. Her mouth capped the hard crest, her tongue flickering over the little eyelet at the tip before stroking around the bulging crest. She was rewarded with a small spurt of the salty sweet fluid that had released into her mouth before.
“Enough.” Before she could tempt him further, tease him further, he gripped her shoulders and flipped her to the bed as he rose over her. “Are you insane?”
She licked her lips slowly as she watched him from beneath lowered lids, hungry for the taste of him. There was something wickedly exciting in drawing his cock into her mouth. Something that fired all her baser instincts and made her completely wanton.
“Not insane,” she whispered as she lifted her head and licked her tongue over his lips, pressing against them, slipping it between them.
She shared the taste of his essence with him then. Her gaze locked with his, seeing shock flare in his eyes a second before he groaned roughly; the hand that had tightened in her hair pulled her head back until he could take control of the kiss.
His tongue tangled with hers, then followed it as it retreated behind her lips. He swept into her mouth demandingly, licking at her lips, her tongue, kissing her with a heat and hunger that had her moaning and arching into his touch.
“Damn you.” He tore his lips from hers, breathing roughly as he stared down at her. “You felt what happened last time, Elizabeth. You know what I did to you.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, smiling in anticipation. “Now do it again. Let’s see if it will work again the second time.”
Shock filled his gaze, then heat. Incredible, incendiary heat as he stared down at her intently. Slowly, a smile that could only be called wolfish curled his mouth.
“I’ll make you scream harder this time,” he warned her softly. “I’ll make you…”
He stopped, his head suddenly rising, eyes narrowing as he stared at the door.
“Dash?” Elizabeth felt his body tense dangerously, rather than in arousal.
He was moving from her as she heard feet pounding up the stairs, then a hard knock at the door. “Get ready, Dash. Grange has men in town and they could be heading out here. We have to get you moving. I’ve called the pilot; fifteen minutes to landing.”
Dash snarled as his head turned, but Elizabeth was already out of the bed and pulling on the clothes he had left laying out for her.
“So much for a damned shower,” she muttered as she pulled her panties over her long legs, covering the glistening, soaked mound of her pussy. “Dammit, I hate wearing wet panties.”
Dash turned for his own clothes, snarling in silent fury. Her panties were wet, his cock was steel-hard and they were heading to a cold plane. He reminded himself to make sure he hurt Grange. Really bad. Before he finally got around to killing him.
Chapter Twenty-One
“You were loud enough to wake the dead,” Dash snapped as Elizabeth slipped around the corner of the cabin two mornings later. Sweat poured from her braided hair and down her face; her clothes were damp with it.
She had worked her way down the point in twice the time it should have taken her and she had ignored half of what he had told her along the way. He had caught her scent first thing simply because she hadn’t tested the direction the wind was blowing. He had heard her skirting the small clearing five minutes before, going in the complete opposite direction that she should have gone.
She stopped, frowning, her blue eyes flashing with anger.
Her breasts were heaving with exertion and nerves and he doubted she could have heard anyone sneaking up on her for the pounding of her own heart.
“I was quiet, dammit. I didn’t make a sound.”
“Do you think I would lie to you?” he growled. “I heard you coming five minutes ago. If this were Grange’s property the guards would have already had you down, stripped and fucked. I told you, Elizabeth. Quietly. I showed you how.”
He was being hard on her. But if he could hear her that far away then those damned dogs patrolling Grange’s estate could too.
“How much quieter do I have to be?” She was tired, irritated and ready to tear into him now.
“A hell of a lot quieter,” he snarled. “Turn around, get your ass back up to that point and try it again. Grange returns to his estate in two weeks. That’s it. End of training and kill time. You won’t be ready.”
“The hell I won’t,” she snarled. “Son of a bitch. You’re a Breed. Of course you heard me. Grange doesn’t have Breeds for soldiers, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t,” he said softly, smiling tightly, controlling the instinctive rush to protect her. “He has dogs. Big mean dogs trained to fuck nosy little girls who come creeping around his estate. You’ve had a taste of it, baby. Wanna try for the real animals now?”
Her face flushed in fury, her lips thinning as she stared at him coldly.
“Aren’t you just a barrel of laughs this morning,” she sneered. “Too bad you’re not as well trained as Grange’s dogs are.”
She turned on her heel and slipped back around the cabin as he felt offended anger flow through his body. He stomped after her, determined to teach her that soldiers never sassed their trainers. Not and get away with it.
As he rounded the side of the cabin he had no more than a second’s warning before his feet flew out from under him, leaving him on his back with a furious Elizabeth straddling his chest, the sharp end of a stick pressing to his throat.
“I get breakfast now, big boy,” she snarled, curling her lip in sneering triumph as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Who says I can’t be quiet?”
She had him. Damn her, she had tricked him so quickly he hadn’t even considered she would turn so sneaky.
He lifted his hand and pulled the stick away from from her, tossing it aside as he stared up at her.