“So beautiful.” He sighed as his fingers trailed from her nipples to her rounded little tummy. “You make me crazy for you, Jess.”
She pressed her head deeper into the pillow as he played with the clasp of her jeans, a whimpering little moan leaving her lips.
“I can pleasure you without kissing you,” he promised her as he flicked the metal tab of her jeans open. “With just my fingers, I could make you come for me, Jess. Let me make you come.”
Hawke watched as she dragged her eyes open, her gaze going to his fingers as he pulled the zipper down.
“Let’s get these off, baby.” He lowered the material, dragging it from her hips, down her thighs.
He almost came himself when he saw the delicate violet silk of the low-rise panties she wore. They barely covered the fiery triangle of curls beneath, and did nothing to hide the fact that they were wet from her juices.
The scent of her filled his nostrils. Sweet, feminine, fresh. Like a mountain brook, he thought. That was what the scent reminded him of. Pure and clean; untouched.
“Jess.” He pulled the jeans from her legs and tossed them to the side of the bed as he fought for control.
She needed to see, needed to know. She needed this moment in time, he realized.
Moving to her side, he laid beside her, his hand covering the small mound between her thighs as he propped himself on his elbow to watch.
His fingers edged beneath her panties and her hips arched closer to him. A gasp, then a hard breath of need parted her lips as he let one finger slide into the narrow slit, feeling the slick wetness, the clench of her folds around his fingers.
His dick was in agony. His balls were drawn tight to the base of the agonized shaft as the crest throbbed in despair. A dark, spicy heat filled his mouth as the powerful hormone spilled into his system from the tight glands beneath his tongue.
Never had he imagined such agony, such need that he couldn’t relieve. Relief was the sweet, fiery heat his fingers were caressing; the delicate, plump folds; the taut, throbbing pearl of her clit.
He wanted his lips there, his tongue. He wanted to taste her as he was touching her, to spear his tongue inside her and feel her coming for him.
He had to end this soon, he realized. His control was shaky now, his hands trembling with the hunger racing through him.
Jessica was breathing hard and fast beside him, little moans breaking past her lips as he circled the entrance to her vagina, dipped his finger inside, then massaged her clit with his thumb.
Her hips arched, a cry throttled from her throat as he felt her clench around his finger.
She was close. So close.
Jessica felt as though the world were burning around J her. Pleasure surrounded her, filled her. His finger caressed the opening to her sex, thrusting inside just enough to stroke nerve endings she hadn’t known she possessed, while his thumb raked across her clit before finding a spot that sent her flying.
He stroked it, rubbed it. His finger thrust lightly inside her, his thumb ground against her clit and she felt her mind explode. Her senses disintegrated. Her orgasm was an explosion of sensation and light that tore through her, tightened her muscles and had her arching, crying, fighting to breathe.
She was gasping for breath, short, startled cries leaving her lips as he jerked her to him, holding her close, tight, as shudders tore through her body.
This was pleasure. It was flying in another’s arms. It was racing to the sun and exploding in the center of it even as she knew it could have been better, brighter, hotter.
It could have been pure, unfettered sensation with his kiss.
A kiss she now knew she wouldn’t be able to live without.
SIX
Hawke was in agony.
The next morning he slid slowly from the bed, grimacing at the violent sensitivity of his dick as he eased away from Jessica’s warm, naked body.
She was sleeping deeply, one arm thrown over her head, the silken, tangled mass of red-gold hair spilling around her face to her shoulders.
Fiery lashes feathered her cheeks. A light flush suffused her face and her soft pink lips were parted as she breathed in and out slowly.
Perfectly curved ripe breasts lifted and fell with each breath and, God knew, they tempted him almost past bearing. It would take so very little to begin the mating heat right now. He could lower his head, take one of her soft nipples into his mouth and suckle her slow and sweet, never waking her.
The mating hormone would lave the sensitive flesh, sink into it and slowly enter her system. Twelve to twenty-four hours and she would need his touch like she needed the air she was now breathing.
As much as he wanted her, as much as he needed her, he couldn’t do that to her.
Shaking his head, he turned and moved to the bathroom. A cold shower wouldn’t help his hard dick, and he knew it. The spray of the water would only torment already sensitive flesh, but he needed to get ready for the day ahead.
He stepped under the spray and almost moaned at the feel of the water over the flesh. Hell, he was going to have to make this the quickest shower on record.
Grabbing the bottle of liquid soap, he quickly lathered his hair and rinsed it before soaping a rag and going to work on his body.
The quick, hard strokes of the rag were torture to his aroused body. The silky slid of suds over his cock and down his thighs were hell.
He rinsed quickly and gave a sigh of relief as he turned off the shower, grabbed a dry towel and grimaced at the thought of drying. Damn, no man should have to go through this, he thought. But neither should a female. He knew what Jessica would suffer once the mating heat started. A sensitivity of flesh that wouldn’t allow for the lightest touch of anything but his hands, his body, his possession.
It was harder for their women, and so far, Breed males were very aware of this. They were selective in their choice of lovers, ensuring that when they went out in public they paid attention to even the smallest signs that mating heat could occur. Enough had been forced on them; they had no desire to force the sometimes painful arousals on a female, whether she was Breed or not.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he pulled the shower doors back and came face-to-face with Jessica from where she sat on the bathroom counter, watching him.
Her somber blue eyes regarded him quizzically as her gaze flicked to the obvious arousal beneath the cotton.
“You were hard all night,” she said softly.
Glancing away from her, Hawke paced to the sink, where he’d placed a clean change of clothes.
“No answer?” she asked.
“What does it matter, Jess?” He let himself watch her in the mirror, saw the suspicion in her face and almost groaned at the next question.
“The mating heat affects you anyway, doesn’t it?” There was a knowing tone to her voice, an edge of regret.
“It’s not as bad for me as it would be for you.” He shrugged as though it didn’t matter, when he knew damned good and well that the need was eating him alive. Like acid in his gut, it was tearing at the very fiber of his control.
“Because you were trained to endure pain.” That wasn’t a question. It was an observation, and more or less the truth.
“Pretty much.” He cast her a look of self-mockery. Hell, he might as well try to laugh about it, since raging over it would only make it worse. “We were trained to endure a lot of things. Maybe it’s just second nature now.”
She ducked her head for a moment before looking to the shower as though desperately seeking a way to change the subject.