Navarro's Promise - Lora Leigh [91]
He was consumed by her. By her pleasure, reflected in her inarticulate cries. By her touch, her nails digging into his shoulder, the taste of her on his tongue where his teeth latched onto her shoulder, the scent of her invading his senses, and he was possessed, even as he possessed. Even as he lost himself in her, a part of him knew not only would he never be free, but he never wanted to be free.
Mica wrapped her legs around Navarro’s lean waist, her hips writhing beneath him, working her pussy on the hard knot throbbing in the thick, agonizingly sensitive muscles that gripped him tightest.
Rolling and jerking against the impalement, the thick penetration working inside her as she began to moan, gasping for more as she felt another hard spurt of his come spill into the greedy depths of her pussy.
His teeth were at her shoulder, locked inside her, holding her, marking her. His tongue lashed at the small wound, spilling the mating hormone from his tongue into the tiny wound, knowing this would tie her to him in ways she couldn’t fully comprehend.
“I love you.” The words were torn from her. “Oh God, Navarro.” Her arms and legs tightened around him as the words escaped her lips. Words she should have never allowed free.
She felt Navarro freeze against her, felt his hard, corded body as the words torn from her settled in the air around them.
What had she just done?
Oh God, what had she done?
She should have known better. She should have controlled the emotions she had promised herself she would never allow free. But it didn’t quite work that way. All those years she had kept her emotions tightly inside, kept the words, the feelings hidden, even from herself.
This was the most dangerous game she could play, and Mica knew it. Navarro didn’t want to love, and she knew, he didn’t want her love now.
He didn’t speak.
His teeth released her shoulder slowly, his tongue licking over the sensitive flesh as she felt the knot that had swollen in his cock ease, allowing him to pull back from her.
She couldn’t stop the low, pleasure-filled moan that left her lips or the tightening of her arms around his neck as he began pulling away from her.
She let him go.
There was no way to hold on to him, no way to steal his heart as he had stolen hers.
Just how dumb had she been in her inattention to the words that spilled free from her lips?
“You were supposed to be protecting your emotions,” he said flatly as he sat at the side of the bed.
Mica opened her eyes and then wished she could close them back, because he was staring at her, those black eyes seeming intent on unlocking her very soul and slipping inside.
“It was pillow talk.” She cleared her throat cautiously. “I’m sure you’ve heard it before. You know how women can get.” Her throat tightened. Too emotional. That was what women were like. They were too emotional, and she was damned sure not as intelligent as she liked to believe she was; otherwise, she would have never allowed those words to slip past her lips. “Besides, you’re my mate, aren’t you? What does it matter, Navarro?”
It was too late to stop feeling it. She’d been feeling it since she was sixteen years old and she’d given up hope of ever tearing the emotion out of her heart. And she was supposed to love her mate. Her mate was supposed to love her. Wasn’t he?
His gaze was too intent as he stared down at her, and she had a feeling he was waiting for something, watching for something. What more could he want from her? What more could she give that she hadn’t already given him?
She breathed in slow and easy. Damn him. She didn’t need this. After all the warnings against loving him, about allowing him too close.
“It matters,” he growled, tension emanating from him as she stared back at him in confusion.
“Oh yes, I forgot, the mate that isn’t really a mate,” she mocked painfully. “So sorry, Navarro. Please excuse me for complicating your delicate little life.”
“Don’t push me, Mica.