Storm's Heart (Elder Races #2)(15)

If anything, that seemed to make him angrier. Worse, he looked offended. He snarled, “Don’t pull that manipulative sex kitten shit on me.”

She shrank back, her eyes crinkled in worry. “But what if I am a manipulative sex kitten shit?”

His grip on the car roof accentuated his heavy arm and chest muscles. He was breathing hard. His lightning-filled gaze fell, and he stilled.

She looked down. When she escaped from the motel room, she had figured stealth and speed were more important than getting dressed, so she was still in the camo shorty-shorts and midriff T-shirt. The rain had quickly soaked her front as well. Her ni**les had puckered in the chill wet and were quite visible underneath her thin sports bra and shirt.

She looked up again into his dangerous face and said, “That’s not my fault. I’m just sayin’.”

He shoved his head and shoulders into the vehicle as he captured her by the back of the neck. His open mouth drove down onto hers. He was digging deep inside her mouth with his tongue before she fully knew what happened.

She made a sound, a whimper of surprise that he swallowed and gave back to her in a throaty growl that raised goose bumps along her bare arms and legs. The force of his kiss pushed her head back against his hand as he gripped the nape of her neck. She was trapped between his hand and his mouth. Her hands fluttered. She clutched at the front of his soaked T-shirt.

His kiss was brutal, ravenous, but his grip on her was gentle. He slid an arm around her waist and eased her forward until she perched on the side of the seat. He held her in place, an arm locked at her waist and a hand at her nape, as he nudged between her legs and slid the massive bulk of his long torso flush against hers. All the while he speared into the depths of her mouth and ate at plump lips that had gone soft in amazement.

The taste and texture of him was a shocking assault to her senses, the cold rain slippery on hot, aggressive lips. His jeans felt rough against the tender skin on the inside of her thighs, and a hard swollen length pressed against her pelvis. She felt his body move as he sucked in air. He was huge everywhere, his body over twice her size.

She couldn’t have stopped him if she’d tried.

She didn’t want to try. She relaxed in his hold, trusting her body to the solid support he offered. She tilted up her head to him, eyes closed to the rain, and she kissed him back with all the starved passion she had stored up inside.

Tiago felt the tension in her body melt away as her ripe, wicked little mouth and eager tongue worked under the onslaught of his. The surrender of her body was so damn erotic he almost came in his fatigues.

Fucking hell. He fell into a tailspin.

What the hell was he doing?

She’s been hurt. Careful, no frenzy allowed. She suckled at his tongue as he thrust in her, and her slender white legs wrapped around his waist. Okay, maybe a little frenzy. He groaned and rubbed the hard length of his erection against the sweet welcoming arc of her pelvis. He wanted to palm those beautiful br**sts of hers and tongue that gold ring at her navel. He wanted to spread her out and feast on her with the intensity of a starving man.

Delicate fingers dug into his short wet hair. He felt the tiny prick of fingernails in his scalp like kitten claws. He wanted them raking down his naked back. He wanted her to draw blood as she screamed and climaxed in his arms. Her breath came in jagged spurts. She was burning up, but violent shivers began to shake through her small frame.

Sanity bulldozed its way into his thick skull. He dragged his mouth away from hers with a harsh gasp, tilting his head up to the rain as he tucked her face into his neck. “Goddammit,” he hissed. “I’m sorry.”

“Of course you are,” she muttered. “Not one single thing has gone right for me today. Why should this be any different?”

He glared down at the top of her head. What the hell did she mean by that?

She pushed her nose into the hollow where his neck met his shoulder as her trembling increased. Too many things were happening in her body. The knife wound felt like it was on fire. She was so hot yet freezing at the same time. Weakness invaded her limbs, and the sharp, empty ache between her thighs had crazy thoughts running through her head, like how easy it would be to unzip his fatigues and take that swollen, hard c**k in her hand. Like how much she wanted to explore the strange sensual terrain of his flesh and pump him until he spilled all over her. Her breath hitched.

Headlights swept over them as a car approached. He scooped her out of the driver’s seat, carried her around and deposited her in the passenger’s seat. Then he strode back, climbed in the driver’s side and started the SUV so that he could park it by the side of the road. The engine was already warm, so he turned the heater on full blast before he turned to her again.

She was a bedraggled mess. The manipulative sex kitten had turned into a half-drowned rat. Her black hair glittered wet and sleek against the graceful curve of her skull, and those gorgeous erect ni**les of hers, God help him, were dark raised pebbles underneath that  p**n o T-shirt. She was shaking visibly. Grinding his teeth, he leaned past her to reach for one of the shopping bags she had thrown onto the passenger’s seat floor. Not caring what he grabbed, he pulled out an item of clothing and began to stroke her wet bare arms and legs with it.

She muttered, “I had this whole thing going a lot differently in my head.”

“I hardly dare to ask,” he said. His white teeth bit at the air.

“For one thing, I was going to retain control of the car,” she said. Her teeth chattered. She pushed his hand away. “There you go, being nice again. Stop it.”