Primal Law (Alpha Pack #1)(38)

"But-but . . ."

She didn't finish the protest and that was fine by him. If she couldn't dredge up a reason why this was a bad idea, he wasn't going to give her one. When they reached his room, he keyed in his personal code and ushered her inside. Blessedly alone with her at last, he surrendered to the animal that wanted nothing more than to mate with his female.

Pushing her against the inside of the door, he set about overwhelming her senses while divesting her of the baggy clothing that hid way too much. He nuzzled her neck, kissing and flicking the vulnerable skin with his tongue, puzzled as to why he felt the nearly overwhelming need to bite her. And why denying that need seemed to make the burning itch even worse. Perhaps he would give in, but not today. He wouldn't risk it without talking to Melina about the possible ramifications.

His hands found the edge of her shirt, and his palms slid over her flat tummy. Moved upward to her small br**sts, so different from his usual busty type. Hers were barely a handful and yet they were perfect. His thumbs grazed the ni**les, pleased when they pouted and hardened. A little whimper escaped her throat and she arched into him, begging without words.

"You like that, angel?" he murmured.

"It's been so long." Her voice was breathless, husky with arousal.

"Do you want me to stop?" He plucked the peaks, pinching just enough to give a tiny jolt, make her want more.

"This isn't a good idea."

Scraping the tip of one fang along the spot where her neck and shoulder met, he nibbled, careful not to scratch her pretty skin. "That's not an answer. Do you want me to stop?" he enunciated, putting more force into the question.

"No."

"Tell me what you want," he coaxed. Moving one palm downward, he had no problem sliding his hand inside the front of the too-big jeans. Slowly, he brushed his fingers through neat curls, giving her time to protest. Instead, she widened her stance with a moan, inviting him to touch, thrilling him. But he had to hear it. "Tell me, baby."

"Touch me," she whispered, burying her face in his chest. "Give me everything."

Yes. "I can do that. Trust me?" She had no reason to, not to this degree, and her acquiescence was a gift.

"O-okay."

Her borrowed T-shirt went first. He pulled it over her head and tossed it in the general direction of his sofa. Then he reached around and unclasped the bra, slipping it off her shoulders. She let it drop but then raised her arms, trying to cross them in front of herself protectively. He was having none of that, and pushed her arms down, baring her to his hungry gaze.

"Uh-uh. No hiding from me," he scolded gently, cupping the creamy globes. "You're perfect."

Her cheeks turned rosy. "I wish they were bigger."

An unwanted image of Jacee's br**sts, full and pendulous, came to the fore. A few days ago, he'd been happy lusting after them-and the rest of her as well-whenever the mood struck. Studying Kira now, he couldn't imagine what he'd ever found attractive about women like Jacee or Alexa. They were nowhere near Kira's class of lady in his mind-smart, spunky, and adorable.

"Does this make you feel good?" Bending low, he captured a nipple with his teeth, grazing the peak.

"Oh, yes. It does." Her hands buried themselves in his hair.

"And this?" He sucked the pebble, laved it.

"Yes! Jax . . ."

"Feel how you affect me." Taking one of her hands, he guided it to the bulge between his legs. Cupped her fingers around his tight balls through the denim and moved it upward, rubbing along the rod that reached damn near to his belly button. Her touch was like fire even through his clothing. When he got naked, she'd probably roast him alive. "Does that prove I find you incredibly desirable?"

She smiled, lifted her chin to gaze at him. "Well, it does make a pretty strong case."

God, he couldn't wait anymore. "Hang on. Wrap your legs around me."

With little effort, he hoisted her up and she did as he asked. Wrapping his arms around her, he cupped her bottom and strode for his bedroom, enjoying how she fit in his arms. He liked carrying her and the action did weird things not only to his libido, but to this protective side that continued to plague him. The one that shouted Mine! in his brain and confused the hell out of him.

Beside his king-sized bed, he let her slip to the floor and wasted no time shoving the offending jeans down and off her slim hips. She toed off her shoes, held on to him as she got rid of her socks, and stood before him in nothing but a pair of peach-toned panties. He drank in the sight of her.

She was a pretty, petite package with slender legs that seemed to go on forever despite her short stature. Delicate toes sported a dark hue of red polish. Her shoulder-length blond hair was mussed some from taking off her shirt and if he had his way, it would soon be tousled beyond repair.

"No fair," she protested, blue eyes wide. "I want to see some skin."

Another wave of citrus and vanilla teased his nose, this time darkened with the unmistakable aroma of pure want. Something about her called to him in a way no other female ever had and he was too weak to resist.

He made short work of his clothes, ripping off his shirt and kicking aside his shoes, socks, and jeans. His turgid c**k pointed straight at her, begging to be stroked. She stepped closer and reached out to smooth a hand over his right shoulder, admiring the tribal tattoos. He let her explore, loving her curious touch. Gradually, she inched around, examining how the scrollwork spilled down his back.