Back River Quiver
The bayou seemed to suspend all animation as Rixen stood and approached Morgan, blood trickling from his shoulder wound and another cut over his eye. “My gift,” he rasped. “I am sorry. Please come to me.”
Despite her anger at him, Morgan couldn’t help the chemical reaction that took place in her body, watching Rixen conquer an animal that’d wanted to kill her. The rush of lust was swift and consuming. She’d been protected by a superior being. Defended at the cost of injury. An instinct to praise those actions was undeniable, the way it had probably been within women since the beginning of time. Reward the male. Show him his worth. Show him yours.
Morgan gave a close-mouthed moan, her body shaking in its effort to coat her flesh between her thighs with moisture as fast as possible. Awareness prickled her skin with the need to have Rixen inside of her. She’d stopped running long minutes ago, but she breathed like she’d never stopped. Rixen watched the transformation happen in her beneath heavy eyelids, his flat male nipples turning to points, an erection filling out the front of his jeans.
God. God, he was massive and invincible and mighty.
Her anger was no match for the urges he inspired. They were base and…naughty.
“I’m mad at you,” she whispered, intending to push at his chest but scraping her palms over his pecs and corrugated stomach instead. “So mad.”
“And yet you touch me.” Rixen’s voice shook. “You touch me when I do not deserve it.”
Morgan swallowed when he took a step closer. “You did just wrestle an actual cougar.”
His breath fanned her forehead. “I will protect you until I die.”
In other words, you’re staying here with me, bitch. In her heightened state of arousal, Morgan didn’t want to hear that. Didn’t want to hear anything that might make her mad and deter the mission to slake this sudden bout of hunger.
No. Not sudden. She’d been almost crazed with lust for Rixen for days. Insatiable.
It would never go away. How would she live without him inside her? How would she live without his humble smile and sweet gestures? No one had ever cared for her so well. So completely. A sharp object twisted in Morgan’s belly and she cast the thoughts away. Don’t think about that right now. Just get rid of the ache.
She took off her T-shirt, leaving her naked in the muted bayou light. Correctly interpreting the gesture, Rixen fell on her with a snarl. His big hands found her butt, lifting and cradling her against his sweating, blood-stained body. Morgan wrapped her arms around his neck and whimpered into a kiss, impatient for his tongue, his teeth. She demanded all of it with hot writhes of her body, fingers pulling at his hair. While their lovemaking had been frantic and desperate in nature since the beginning, it reached new heights now. Teeth snapped, mouths sucked hard enough to leave marks, fingers bruised.
Morgan was not surprised to find herself thrown down to her hands and knees in the dirt, although it was the first time he’d taken her this way. Maybe she should have been nervous, especially with Rixen growling and unfastening his jeans behind her, preparing to fuck her like a beast. But she wasn’t. No. She wanted rough. She wanted the winning predator to claim her body and take his final victory.
Rixen’s muscular chest pressed down onto her back and she reveled in the smell of him. Male arousal, sweat, blood, earth. His teeth grazed a path up the side of her neck, his hips humping her in great drives, despite the fact that he wasn’t inside her yet.
“I’ve just fought for your life. My mate’s life,” he gritted against her ear. “I’m going to enter your cunt like a battering ram. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” Morgan wailed. “Please please please.”
His chest left her back and Morgan watched over her shoulder as Rixen spat on his purple-headed erection, spreading the moisture with purposeful hands. The next time he spat, it landed between her bottom cheeks, dripping down, down, until it reached her entrance. Rixen poised himself there with a grunt, pushing into her with enough force to collapse Morgan’s knees. Rixen jerked her back up without mercy, though, beginning to thrust. Roaring as he filled her again and again, their flesh smacking together three times per second.
Rixen’s hands surrounded her hips, yanking her back onto his waiting rod, grinding, his thigh hair tickling the backs of hers. “You ran from me for good reason,” he said. “But there’s a part of you that wanted to be caught, isn’t there, my gift? This juicy little pussy is proof. You’ve never been wetter.”
She didn’t know how to answer without lying or admitting she’d fallen head over heels for the man who’d kidnapped her and hid her in a closet, so Morgan focused on the sensations instead. His sex was thick and curved at the perfect angle, every pump of his hips rubbing his flesh against her G-spot. She reached for her clit to rub it, but Rixen beat her there, finding the nub of flesh with a callused middle finger. Oh yes, yes. So perfect. She spread her thighs wider and arched her back, letting the orgasm build, letting it wrap around her like a dream.