Mating Fever by Susan Hayes
Carnage
Her kiss was all the permission Car needed to take what he craved. Man and beast were in perfect harmony as he set her on her feet, then crowded her against the wall once more. She was his, and he was going to show her exactly what that meant.
Their tongues dueled, and their hands tore at each other’s clothing as both of them gave in to the inevitable. This was meant to happen. It had to happen. He knew it with a certainty he didn’t understand and didn’t bother to question. It was the truth, and that was enough for him.
He went to strip his shirt off and paused as he realized there was one last obstacle he needed to remove. They were still bound together by the manacles on their wrists, the ones that blocked her abilities, including teleportation.
“Swear to me you won’t leave me,” he demanded, the words coming out with more than a hint of a growl.
Her head snapped back, and she stared at him in bewilderment and anger. “This again? I’m not yours, and I’m not swearing anything of the kind. This is just my last hurrah before the end, big guy.”
He blinked at her in confusion, playing over what he had meant to say… and what had actually come out of his mouth. Yeah, he was losing his fucking mind, and it was all her fault. “Promise you won’t teleport your sexy ass out of here, and I’ll take off the cuff. That’s all I meant.” He jerked the chain that connected them. “Otherwise getting naked is going to be tricky.”
“Oh.” She actually looked flustered for a second, and that flash of vulnerability made her even sexier. It was the first time he’d seen her softer side, even if it was only for an instant.
“I’m not going to run. You can take it off. Like I said, this is my last chance to play before what’s probably going to be the end of my life. Besides, I know what you are, and what you can do. If I run, you’ll track me down again. It’s what you do, right?”
“It’s what I do,” he agreed, then kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted her naked, to be able to touch and taste every inch of her. He had to force himself to end their kiss long enough to get rid of the manacle. He flung it to the floor, impatience getting the better of him. He had better things to be doing with his hands right now.
She shrugged out of her coat, and it fell to the ground beside the cuffs, quickly joined by his shirt, then hers. She still had one boot on and her pants tangled around her ankles when he gave in to the need to kiss her again.
There was nothing tender about their passion, no sweet words or gentle caresses. This was raw, rough, and carnal, just the way he liked it. He kept her pinned to the wall with one hand as he kissed her hard and then let his mouth blaze a path down to the swell of her breasts. He cupped the warm weight of one breast in his palm and flicked a calloused finger over a perfect pink nipple, making it tighten and drawing a moan from her throat. In response, she buried her fingers in his hair and tugged him in closer, her nails biting into his scalp.
When she arched her back away from the wall to offer herself to him, he accepted her surrender without hesitation.
She was his.
