A Love Untamed (Feral Warriors #7)(48)

Accessing her gift was a risky game, one that would sooner or later almost certainly derail everything she wanted in her life. But a shifter gone feral was a dangerous companion. And she didn’t want him out in the storm alone. Not when she had the power to help him.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to him, reaching for his face just as he started to move as if to rise.

“Fox, let me help.”

Feral eyes turned to her. “Too dangerous.”

It was, actually, but not in the way he thought. Never one to take no for an answer, she grabbed his face in both hands, forcing him to hold still for fear of hurting her with his fangs or claws. She knew he wouldn’t intentionally harm her. And for a reason she didn’t entirely understand, she couldn’t let him suffer.

Closing her eyes, reaching down deep inside of her, she opened that door and found the energy of her gift, pulling it forth as quickly and strongly as she could. It came more easily this time, more forcefully, and she felt her hands heat at once. Beneath her palms, Fox’s tension slowly drained away.

When she opened her eyes again, Fox was staring at her with wonder and gratitude, his own eyes once more blue. And slowly filling with heat as his gaze roamed her face, as it dipped to her mouth.

Her breath caught, and she tore her gaze away.

Without warning, he pulled her onto his lap, tight against him, tucking her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. Pressing her face against the warm flesh of his neck had her mouth hungering for a taste. She curled her arms around his neck and felt his hands slide over her, one along her thigh to cup her bu**ocks, the other sliding over her breast.

Little by little, the pleasure of Fox’s touch, of his nearness, of his hand in hers, had been seeping into her, trickling deep down inside of her. Feeding her. And awakening her deep Ilina nature, so much of which had been frozen after the attacks.

Even with the storm screaming around them hunger flared. Her mating scent released. Between her legs, she began to burn. No, she didn’t want this!

But even as the cry sounded in her head, her mouth found his, her control broke, and she was kissing him. And then his arms were around her, pulling her close, his mouth fusing with hers in a passion as wild as the storm. As one, their mouths opened, their tongues finding one another, drinking from one another, a heady taste of sweetness and lust. His hands gripped her tight, one at her back, the other cupping her head.

His mouth tore from hers to rain kisses along her cheek, her jaw, the curve of her shoulder. She arched, tilting her head, giving him access as his mouth suckled at the flesh along the side of her neck, erasing the phantom pain of the vine, a wound now fully healed.

“Fox,” she gasped, as his touch sent passionate flames licking her insides, melting her from the inside out, filling her with a need, a hunger, that she’d thought never to feel again.

The pleasure grew inside her, changing, distilling into the finest of nectars, feeding her body and soul and setting up a craving for more. In a distant part of her mind, she railed at the foolishness of feeding this hunger. Did she not want to return to the way she’d been, to the warrior unable to feel?

But she was lost to Fox’s touch, to the feel of his silken locks beneath her fingertips, to his masculine scent and the taste of his kiss and the brush of his whiskers against her sensitive neck.

She was on fire for him and he was equally crazed with need for her.

The hand at her back, slid lower, down to her hip, strong fingers flexing into her butt cheek, pulling her against him as he rubbed his thick erection against her hip.

His mouth reclaimed hers, and she drank of him all over again as his tongue invaded her mouth, as her tongue slid against his. She was on fire for him.

Barely registering her actions, she twisted on his lap, straddling him, rubbing herself against his hardness. Fox groaned, pressing her closer. And then his hand was at her waist, his fingers sliding down inside the front of her leggings, down between her legs, one finger diving deep inside of her.

Her cry of pleasure strangled in her throat as her body froze, memories rearing up, terrible and terrifying. Chained, spread . . .

Melisande froze, pushing off of Fox’s lap, her heart pounding. Shaken, she sat back against the rock, struggling to breathe, curling into herself beside him as another tree cracked and fell nearby.

“Melisande?”

She didn’t answer, didn’t know what to say because even as the memories crashed over her, her body, fully awakened, wept with need. The passion continued to swirl in her blood, stretching and growing, flowing into her limbs, deep into her core. She wanted, needed, to be back in Fox’s arms, to feel his mouth on hers again, to feel his body inside hers.

And the thought of it both excited her and terrified her.

Stars in heaven, she didn’t want this.

The wind whipped around them, branches and entire trees tumbling end over end, flying past. The storm raging outside was nothing compared to the one raging within her. The hunger burned until she feared she would turn to ash. She needed release, and she needed it now, but the thought of being covered, of being entered . . .

A deep quaking began in her limbs, her stomach souring even as the heat raged between her thighs. She wanted Fox, desperately. If only she didn’t. If only she could turn it off. She wasn’t at all sure how much longer she could stand this, or what she would do when she couldn’t.

She pulled her knees against her chest and dipped her forehead onto them, curling tight, struggling to ease the terrible need. But nothing worked.