Lawe's Justice - Lora Leigh [109]
Diane moved to turn around to face Lawe, only to find him at her back, his head lowering, his lips suddenly at the base of her neck as he pushed her hair back, his tongue swiping over the mating mark left there.
A shudder of pleasure raced down her spine. Closing her eyes, she felt his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her to him as his lips moved to the side of her neck to the second mark he’d left on her.
A slow, leisurely lick over the small bite had her knees weakening and a whimper leaving her lips as frissons of excitement traveled through every cell of her body.
Diane couldn’t help but tip her head back to his shoulder, one arm lifting to allow her hand to curl around the back of his neck to hold him in place. Her eyes closed, her weight leaning into him as she surrendered herself to the exquisite sensations. Because she needed this, she needed him. Nothing else mattered and no other pleasure could compare to it.
“You’re breaking my heart,” he whispered, his lips caressing her, sending little flares of sensation to attack her nerve endings as he spoke. “The scent of your pain is killing me.”
She had to swallow back the need to spill out the anger she was working so hard to conceal.
He couldn’t help the instincts driving him any more than she could help her own needs, her own hunger to be more than just a mate.
She could only hide it within herself, arch closer to him and let the pleasure have its way as she hoped it covered the scent of whatever pain she wasn’t hiding effectively.
The hand that curled against the back of his head delved into the length of thick, cool black hair. It wasn’t as silky as it looked. There was a hint of coarseness to the feel of it, just rough enough to feel unusual, to remind a woman she wasn’t with a normal male.
Just as the rake of his teeth against her shoulder, the feel of his tongue, just the slightest rasp against her flesh, was just different enough, just exciting enough to sent a hard rush of sensation to ripple through her womb and clench around her clit with erotic pleasure.
Breathing in roughly as his hands slid around her waist and pulled the shirt free of her jeans, Diane barely restrained the moan that would have slipped free.
His hands touched the bare flesh of her midriff, flattening against it to stroke upward and curve around the aching rise of her breasts. The roughened pads of his thumbs stroked over the material of the bra, feathering over the hardened, sensitized tips sent erotic sensations slamming to her womb.
“I need you,” Lawe whispered, his lips trailing up her neck to her ear where he worried the lobe, first with the flick of his tongue, then with his teeth. “Let me have you, love.”
He didn’t have to ask. Surely he knew she couldn’t tell him no. Even if she wanted to. But even without the heat, Diane knew she couldn’t have denied him.
The very things that made her insane where he was concerned were the things that drew her to him. The strength and arrogance, the dominance and protectiveness, the honor that was so much a part of him.
He was so much more than just a man, and he held so much of her heart and soul that she wasn’t certain how to survive what he made her feel or the sacrifices she knew he wanted from her.
Turning in his arms, Diane waited for Lawe’s kiss. The warmth of his lips covering hers, his tongue flickering against them as the spiced-pear taste tempted her senses. The need for that taste, for the adrenaline-fueled arousal that would pump into her system, had her lips parting, her tongue waiting, flicking against his as her lips closed around it. Tucking beneath his tongue, hers rubbed and caressed, her lips tightened, drawing the hormone rich taste from the swollen glands as she moaned at the strength of the pleasure filling her.
The contradiction between the man himself and the taste of the mating hormone never failed to amaze her. He was one of the darkest, one of the strongest, Breeds she knew. Yet the taste of his mating kiss was sweet with a hint of spice. A taste of summer pears but with a hint of that vast well of