Obsession Untamed (Feral Warriors #2)(13)

He snorted with understanding. The lady Fed was playing him. Trying to use the attraction between them to distract him so she might escape.

Smart.

And damned annoying. Because he’d been attempting to play her. Clearly trying to calm her wasn’t going to do an ounce of good because, at the moment, she had better control over her emotions than he did his.

So if calming her wasn’t the way to get past her mental barriers, he needed to get her to lower her guard another way. Perhaps by earning her trust. And he knew just the way to go about it. With what was, amazingly, almost the truth.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Delaney.”

She tensed, her eyes flaring for only an instant. “You know my name.”

“I had to find you. I’m not who you think I am.”

Hard eyes probed his face, the touch of her gaze deceptively soft. “And who do I think you are?” Her sultry voice felt like a stroke to his throbbing cock.

Heaven help him.

“You think I’m the man who attacked you, the man who’s killed more than a dozen people in the past few days. But I’m not him.”

Sharp doubt ripped through her eyes, then disappeared behind a wary screen. “Who are you, then?”

“His twin.” He stroked her soft cheek with his thumb, enchanted by the silky smoothness of her skin. Would her skin taste as sweetly exotic as she smelled? “That’s why you’re still alive, brown eyes. My evil twin would never have let you live. I’m not sure how you managed to escape him the first time.”

Her gaze searched his face as if looking for the truth. “Someone shot him,” she said slowly. “I shot him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is he dead?”

“No. He’s still very much alive. Which is why I’m here.” He opened his mouth to tell her he’d come to protect her, then remembered who she was. What she was. Delaney Randall was no damsel in distress. She was a warrior. He needed to appeal to that in her. “I want to stop him before he kills again, and I know you do, too. If we work together, we can get him, Delaney.” He stroked her cheek, watching her formidable brain debate his words.

“Work with me, brown eyes.” He tasted her doubt, her uncertainty, and pressed his advantage. “Help me catch him before he kills again.”

He tasted it, the small, secret lift of excitement amid her raging doubt. The opening of her mind, just a sliver.

It was enough.

Tighe pushed hard into her mind, pressing against the softened resistance. He had no choice but to force his way in. If he couldn’t get control of her, he had to kill her.

No choice.

The woman’s eyes widened, then fell heavily as she moaned, her body arching to rub against his arousal. Her passion surged, rising like a thick, exotic scent on her skin, ensnaring him, threatening to wrench him free of his own thinning control.

She groaned. “What are you trying to do to me?”

“Not this.”

Goddess help him. He had to get past the barrier in her mind. As he pushed harder, she flung her head back, gasping for air, looking for all the world like a woman about to…

She screamed as she came, her body rocking, shaking, shuddering with the force of her release.

Holy heavens and Earth. He was a heartbeat away from following her into that sweet oblivion, his own body hard as stone, dying for a taste of her, dying to be inside her. Never had he been in so much pain for a woman.

Her eyelids lifted slowly, heavy with passion above stunned eyes. “I want you inside me. Now.”

Heaven help him, that’s all he wanted. All he wanted. And he couldn’t take her. She was human, dammit. Human. And even if she weren’t, his desire for her was nearly out of control. If he entered her, he feared he’d lose himself entirely. And if he went feral, he’d kill her.

That was something he was loath to do.

But he had to taste her.

His fingers released her wrists to slide into the softness of her hair as his mouth covered hers. She cried out, the sound halfway between a moan and a plea, as if she were drowning, and he was the only one who could save her. Or maybe he was just transferring his own feelings to her because that was exactly the way he felt. He’d die if he didn’t taste her.

His tongue swept inside her welcoming mouth, reveling in the sweet, exotic lushness. She tasted just as he’d imagined she would, only a hundred times better. Like the nectar of a rare jungle orchid.

Like heaven.

His tongue stroked hers, then her teeth and the insides of her cheeks, exploring the damp depths of her, thrilled when she did the same, as if she couldn’t get enough of him.

Heaven knew, he couldn’t get enough of her.

Kissing wasn’t enough. He unbuttoned her shirt with quick fingers and brushed aside the opening to cover her lace-covered breast with his palm, squeezing gently until she arched into his touch and moaned into his mouth. His fingers went to the tight little peak, pinching and rolling it between his finger and thumb until she was rocking against him in a half-crazed frenzy.

He pulled away from her mouth and tasted the sweet skin of her cheek and the salty tang of her brow.

His breaths were coming in short, shallow gasps, his own brow damp from the effort to retain some semblance of control. But why maintain control? Why not just take her? With his release, this crazed need would abate. He’d be able to get them both under control.