The Savage

“He won’t kiss you here…”

Lowering his head, Lance closed his lips hard over her nipple, making Summer cry out

in surprise as a jolt of fire ran from his mouth and streaked to every part of her body. It wasn’t a caress but a branding. His plundering mouth was hard and hot and compelling, and made her tremble with helplessness.

She was dimly aware of a white-hot excitement flooding through her, of the tightness rapidly building in her lower belly. Her hands coming up to clutch the rough blackness of his hair, she arched against him, caught in a tangled web of need. Lance tormented her breast, suckling as though he would devour her, and forced a shuddering moan from her.

Then suddenly he was kneeling at her feet, shoving up her leather skirt over her pale naked thighs, up to her hips, to bare her lower body. Summer froze in shock as she realized she was completely revealed to him. Her heart hammered as he hauled her close and his hot mouth found the dark curls between her legs.

“W-What…?”

She made a strangled, senseless protest, but Lance wouldn’t stop his feverish assault. He blamed her for the violent need inside him, blamed Summer for this fierce wanting that ate at his reason. The yielding primitive scent of her made his groin grind, made him so hard, he thought he might explode. Fiercely he tightened his grip on her hips and pressed his open mouth against her succulent flesh.

She jerked, whimpering, as his probing kiss invaded her, as his hungry lips explored the heated center of her womanhood. Mercilessly his searching tongue stroked the most vulnerable part of her in a lash of pleasure that was almost cruel. Summer arched wildly under the sensation so exquisite and unbearable that her entire body quivered. She wanted to demand that he stop, that he cease tormenting her, but the dark head between her burning thighs was giving her the most frightening pleasure she had ever known. His face pressed into her, both hands gripping the curves of her hips, compelling her surrender, making the anguished pleasure inescapable. She screamed softly at the mounting, burning frenzy swelling inside her.

Lance could feel her passion building like a raging inferno, hot enough to match his own. A convulsive shudder shook him, and he cursed at the difficulty of tearing aside his loincloth. He was so swollen with need that he thought he might die if he didn’t have her now, at once. Releasing his throbbing length, he lowered Summer on shaking limbs that could no longer support her, so that her knees straddled his thighs, her bare breasts rubbed against his naked chest.

He vaguely knew he’d once had reasons he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be taking her body, but he couldn’t remember them just now. He had Summer, hot and willing in his arms, and his mind refused to function. There was no stopping him this time. The blood pounded so wildly in his ears that he scarcely head her startled cry as his hardness tried to impale her soft flesh. Her spine arched in shock as he thrust into her, as he encountered the fragile barrier to her womanhood.

Virgin! his conscience screamed at him. He had to go slowly—but God, he wanted her! And he knew that for this moment at least, Summer wanted him. Her breath coming in erratic, ragged gasps, she clung to him, her eyes closed, her teeth painfully clenching her lower lip as she waited for his claiming.

“Easy,” he rasped in a raw, shaking voice. Jesus, he didn’t want to hurt her.

Fighting for restraint, Lance forced himself to slow down. His own eyes fiercely primitive, he drew Summer’s slim legs up to clasp his hips. Swiftly then, he rose up on his knees and laid her down on her back. His body covering hers, he eased his weight onto her, trying to hold back.

Summer went rigid as his swollen shaft again sought entrance to her body, but Lance was kissing her face, murmuring soft words of passion in his Comanche language, and she forgot to be afraid.

The moment she relaxed, he thrust into her, slowly, inexorably, sinking, squeezing his huge sex into her tight heat now slick with desire. The impact made her gasp. She knew a sharp, shocking moment of pain as he filled her to bursting…but then her flesh seemed to swell around him, her body to soften, molded by his. The pain slowly died away, leaving only a dull, full throbbing.

Panting, Summer held completely still, afraid of the strange arousing ache caused by having Lance deep inside her, part of her. He was so big, so overwhelming, and yet she wanted this pleasureful hurt…wanted him joined to her this way…

He was watching her, his obsidian gaze smoldering and intense with determination as he slowly withdrew, then crowded into her again. For an instant her muscles tensed at the fresh invasion, but then her body closed around him with a long, desperate shudder.

Lance groaned aloud at the shattering relief as her hot, moist flesh tightly sheathed him. Vainly he clenched his teeth. His control was slipping, his rough excitement burgeoning beyond restraint. His hips began moving against hers, rhythmically, driven by an urgent, primal force.

In a daze of awareness, Summer arched instinctively against him. She was whimpering steadily now, but not in pain. Some primitive part of her nature had taken control. She writhed, frantic, her nails digging into his hard flesh as she tried to get closer.

Reveling in her helpless response, Lance reacted with violent hunger, his hips thrusting hard and rhythmic, his arms closing convulsively around her, his movements rawly frenzied. He had known desire before, but not this gnawing, tearing desperation. Where had it come from, this terrible need?

Summer felt it, too. She sobbed, bucking beneath him, striving to get closer, seeking escape from the fiery heat that was too fierce to be borne, but then his hands closed over her buttocks, lifting them so he could thrust harder, deeper, his shaft plunging in a savage claiming.

The inferno broke over her first. Something went wild inside her; she could no longer hold her body still as passion wrenched her, racked her. Her gasping cries filled the tepee moments before a low, rough groan burst from Lance’s throat. With uncurbed, hammering wildness, he joined her, his body contracting, shuddering, as a throbbing white-hot orgasm exploded from him, filling her with his seed.

Afterwards—long moments afterwards—he sank against her, spent and shuddering, his breath coming in rasping gasps. Summer lay panting beneath him, dazed and weak, her face pressed against the smooth, sweaty silk of his bare shoulder.

Finally she heard him draw in a long, ragged breath, felt him rise up on his elbows, relieving her of some of his heavy weight.

“You all right?” His voice was low, still hoarse with passion.

Her lids lifted slowly. Deep in the obsidian eyes burning close above her was a fierce possessiveness.

“What…what if I said no?”

He stared down at her for a long moment. “Summer, I…”

She thought he might have started to make her an apology, yet he didn’t complete whatever he’d been about to say. Instead Lance eased himself off her and rolled over on his back, draping his forearm over his eyes.

Awkwardly, with a trembling hand, Summer pulled her skirt down over her naked thighs. Her flesh felt raw and aching, but her body fulfilled, as if their joining had made her whole. Lance hadn’t hurt her, precisely. Merely left her emotions shaken and raw, her thoughts in turmoil. She had wanted his passion, with a fierceness that shocked her. But she wanted more for him to understand.