Slave to Sensation

had to fight herself not to reach out and pull down the zipper of his jeans, knowing precisely what he’d feel like in her palms. Hot, hard, silky smooth, and perfect.

CHAPTER 18

“This T-shirt is mine.” He let go of her nipple and sat up again so he could run the palms of both hands along her torso to close over her breasts.

Her entire body was a heartbeat pounding in time to the pulse between her legs. “Why did Tamsyn give it to me?”

“Because you smell of me anyway.” With another gentle squeeze, he released her breasts and ran his hands down to the edge of the T-shirt, pushing it up. “Even the damn wolves could smell me on you.”

She knew she should protest the way he was acting but this was what she’d dreamed about, fantasized about. The only question was, was she going to survive the inferno she’d unleashed? A big male hand cupped her so boldly that she felt lights explode behind her eyes. He was rubbing at her with the heel of his palm, arousing her to fever pitch through the cotton of her panties.

“Where’s the lace?” He paused in his caress.

“D-don’t stop.” It was a husky plea. Her reward was the renewal of his sensual movements.

His eyes glowed in the darkness and he was at once intensely beautiful and intensely wild. “In the dreams you wore lace panties.”

“Psy don’t have those kinds of garments.” Hungry for more, she moved against him. He understood, changing his movement to a hard rotation that made her throat lock. For the next few seconds, she was completely insensitive to anything but the delirious onrush of sensation.

He thrust her over the edge with rough tenderness that tore a scream from her throat, her Psy mind no longer caring who was in the house, who was listening. She let the almost violent pleasure rip through her until she was damp, limp, and sated against his palm. When she opened her eyes, it was to find that he hadn’t changed position.

Meeting her gaze, he removed his hand from between her legs, brought his palm to his mouth, and licked his fingers clean. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. Her body quivered with aftershocks but something deeper was already awakening within.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her eye fell to the erection pushing against the zipper of his jeans.

“Are you going to do something about that?”

If she hadn’t had those dreams, if she hadn’t learned that he gave far more pleasure than he ever asked for, if she hadn’t already tangled with his male demands and hunger, she might’ve balked.

Biting down on her lower lip, she ran a finger down the length of him.

“Stop teasing,” he ordered, but made no move to halt her exploration.

“In my dreams,” she whispered, accepting what she’d known from the start. Those dreams had been far too vivid to have been figments of her own imagination. How could she have dreamed up the wild lover who’d shown her the ways of pleasure when she’d never known anyone like him? “In my dreams you told me you loved my mouth.”

“I adore your mouth.” He was braced on his hands by her head again. When he spoke it was against her lips and then he was kissing her with sensual enthusiasm that made her feel like she was his every fantasy come to life.

She couldn’t break away, couldn’t stop herself from grabbing onto his waist and digging her fingers into his flesh. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and she responded instinctively, tangling hers with his. His body was pure heat and sensation under her hands, the body of a male who’d never say no to touch.

“Skin privileges,” she said when he let her breathe.

“We’re way beyond skin privileges, darling.” His smile was wicked as he sat back up to kneel between her spread thighs. Aware what he wanted, what he needed, she raised her hands to the button on his jeans and undid it. He hissed out a breath, his eyes appearing to glow even more brightly. When she tugged down the zipper, he growled in the back of his throat. “Careful.”

“Always.” The zipper was down. She could see the head of his erection pushing against the white fabric of his briefs. “You have to let me up.”

He thought about it for a while, his fingers playing with her wet nipple through the soft cotton fabric. “I don’t want to.”

Her stomach clenched each time he plucked at the bud he’d sensitized to the extreme. “How can I… take you in my mouth if you don’t?” In the glimmering darkness, the question was an erotic invitation she hadn’t known she had the capacity to make.

He moved and it was so fast she barely caught it. Watching him stand beside the bed stripping off the rest of his clothing was a pleasure all on its own. There was no need for light, not when his skin seemed to shimmer with a fine layer of savage energy to her Psy senses. She was stunned by the dangerous beauty of him. When she sat up, his head whipped to pin her to the spot. “I don’t want you to move.” Alpha to the core, his order was arrogantly assured.

“But I want to move.” To let him have his way at this point would equal disaster later.

He pounced with that stunning speed and she found herself flat on her back with his length pressed along her front. He’d clasped her wrists together and had them pinned above her head before she could gasp in a breath. “Now you’re all mine.” The comment held a hunting cat’s pleasure at cornering his prey.

But this prey had claws. Reaching out with her mind, she wrapped mental hands around the erection that was nudging at her entrance. His body arched as a shout was torn from him. “What are you doing, kitten?”

“Playing,” she said, using his word. The feel of him was everywhere, inside and outside. She wanted to taste him so badly, she ached. “Let me.”

He leaned down and lapped at her nipple through the T-shirt, the gesture so feline that she was shocked into a moan. “I’m not feeling playful.”

“Don’t you want me to…” She used her mental hands to squeeze him tight, to show him what he could have.

He bit the side of her neck hard enough to mark but not hurt. “Stop that.”

“Why?” At that moment it didn’t occur to Sascha that she shouldn’t have been able to connect to him so easily, that he was changeling and she was Psy and no Psy had ever been able to enter a changeling mind without effort. All she knew was that she was burning up for him.

He braced himself on his hands above her, setting her free to grasp the hard length of his erection. He thrust into her hold, head thrown back, the tendons on his neck standing out in sharp relief. Not quite knowing how she knew what to do, she pushed up until she could slide her legs between the vee created by his kneeling thighs.

As he watched to see what she’d do next, she slithered her body down the bed until the hard evidence of his hunger was right above her. Holding onto his hips, she raised her head off the bed and took him inside her mouth.

His growl made every nerve in her body flicker with warning. But she didn’t stop. She had skin privileges and she was going to take every advantage. He tasted better than her dreams, as rich and delectable as the most exquisite chocolate, as exotic as the panther he was.

Her neck was getting tired but she didn’t want to let go. Pulling at his hips, she moved down but he refused to follow, sliding slowly out of her mouth and driving her to the edge of insanity.

Lucas, please. It was a wild plea from her mind to his.

“On the condition that you let me do the same.” His voice was rough, hot, demanding. “No backing away.”

You can do anything you like! she agreed without thought, so drunk on the overload of sensory pleasure that she was his slave.

He purred and did as she’d asked, moving his hips just enough to tease, to tempt. Craving him so badly that she could no longer function on any level but the physical, she sucked hard, squeezing her hands over the taut