“Baby—”
“Off!”
“Hold on, lass. Let me—”
“I can’t wait.”
“Fergie—”
“I need your skin against mine. I need it, Kruger.”
A tremor crept into her tone, rattling him. Unbridled urgency in her scent. Heady desperation in each word. A need so profound, he struggled against the onslaught. His dragon answered the call without his permission. Magic fizzled in his veins. His clothes disappeared into his mental vault, leaving him bare-arsed in her arms.
“God, you feel good,” she whispered, hands roaming his back. Tucking her face beneath his jaw, she licked over his pulse point. He groaned in appreciation. She nipped him, keeping up the sweet torture, driving him closer to the edge of his control. “So good, handsome. Give me more.”
Pleasure ignited an inferno. Heat slammed against good intentions. He locked his muscles and…bloody hell. He was doomed, so lost in her he flew past reason straight into insanity. All of a sudden, he couldn’t tell her no. No was no longer part of his vocabulary. He could fight it. Wanted to fight it, but…
She wanted him inside her. Which meant he’d already lost the battle, bowing to her wishes as the desire to please her took him under. Ferguson needed him. He must provide what she asked—a hard, fast fucking the first time around—instead of doing what he wanted and taking his time.
“All right, gorgeous,” he said, giving in, upping his pace, heading toward the bed.
His foot bashed into something. Twin points of pain slashed across his shin. An electrical cord tangled around his ankle. He stumbled sideways.
“Ignore it,” Ferguson whispered.
Righting his balance, he growled, “What the fuck was it?”
“Alarm clock.” The sharp edge of her teeth scraped over the sensitive spot behind his ear. A quake rumbled through him. Soft lips drifted across his skin. Her round arse filled his hands. Energy sparked everywhere she touched, making him vibrated in her arms. “Ignore it.”
“I’m going tae tan yer arse.”
“Before or after you fuck me?”
“Jesus, lass.”
Knowing she was about to get her way, she raised her head. Green eyes full of mischief met his. He braced, preparing for more bratty behavior. She didn’t disappoint: trusting him to support her weight, she leaned backward, fisted her hands in her tank top, and whipped it over her head. The messy bun atop her head let go. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, coppery strands wanton as she flicked her hand.
Pale blue cotton landed on a standing lamp across the room, making it wobble as his gaze dipped. Air left his lungs in a rush. Fucking hell. No bra. Smooth skin and full breasts on display. His mouth watered.
“Goddess. Gorgeous, baby.”
“More. I need—”
“Shh.” Stroking up her spine, he fisted his hand in her hair. “Let me look at you.”
Holding her firm, he took his time and looked his fill. Color spread along her cheekbones. Her eyelashes flickered. Memorizing the need in her eyes, he burned the sight of her into his brain. He tugged on the thick strands wound around his hand. Her chin came up. Her breasts rose and fell on rasping gasps. He nipped the underside of her jaw, then dipped his head.
His mouth skimmed her throat, over her collarbone and down. He curled his tongue around her nipple, swirling, teasing, making her squirm, showing no mercy. She moaned his name. Satisfaction rumbled through him. Finally. Fucking finally. Full curves, gorgeous female, his mate, completely in his control. Every inch of her his. His to fuck and please. His to claim and call his own. All of her waiting for him to give her what she needed.
With a growl, he kissed the inside curve of her breast, then turned his attention to its twin. Her nails scraped his scalp as her legs tightened around him. Shivering, on the verge of begging, she arched, pressing her heat harder against him.
His teeth grazed her.
“God.”
“My name, Fergie.” He nipped her. A gentle reprimand, one designed to send her higher. “You say my name while my mouth’s on you.”
He swirled his tongue around her nipple. Her hips bucked. Kruger sucked harder, pressing the tip against the roof of his mouth.
She moaned.
He lifted his head. “What do you call me?”
“Kruger.”
“Again.”
“Kruger,” she gasped as he switched sides, licking her before treating her to the edge of his teeth. “Kruger.”
“Beautiful, fazleima. You’re so bloody beautiful.”
Her breath hitched.
“Though I’m still gonna teach you a lesson.”
“For what?”
“Being bad. Playing dirty. Not listening.”
“Cowboy—”
“Prepare, lass. Time for you tae beg.”
She opened her mouth to object.
Giving her no time, he took her mouth and, with quick strides, moved to the bed. Instead of laying her down on the mattress, he shoved the bench at the end of the bed aside and set her arse on the footboard, the perfect height for what he planned. He had no need for softness. Not at present. His mate hadn’t earned it yet.
“Brace, Fergie.” Keeping her perched on the edge, he pressed in.
Off balance with her legs spread and feet dangling, she clutched at his shoulders. “What the—”
He shoved her backward. Her shoulder blades landed on the duvet cover. Her hips stayed high, putting her at a disadvantage, without leverage, as he yanked at the tie holding her pajama shorts up. A quick tug, and he stripped her bare, then stepped between the spread her knees. Her lips parted in shock. He caressed the red curls shielding her heat and, using his thumbs, opened her to his touch. Unable to wait for her to adjust, he put his mouth on her.
Ferguson arched, hips jerking in his hands.
Growling, he held her down and ate, sucking on her clit, licking into her folds, feeling her clench around his tongue. Each of her breaths came in rasping gasps. Showing no mercy, he drove her up the sharp edge of pleasure. She moaned his name. He delved deeper, giving her more, pushing her hard, already so addicted to her taste he wanted to stay right where he was…forever. For-fucking-ever. Until she begged him to fuck her, and he could no longer deny her.
“Kruger—”
“Ambrosia, baby. So fucking good.”
“You need… I can’t… Oh, God,” she moaned.
“Slick. Jesus, so fucking slick.” Needing more, he explored her with his fingers as he sucked on her clit. He lashed the tight bud with the flat of his tongue, drinking her cream, memorizing how she felt and looked and smelled. “Beauty, fazleima. Pure beauty.”
“Shit,” she rasped, planting her heels on his shoulders. She pressed up as he thrust in, using his fingers to fuck her. “Kruger, I’m gonna…I’m—”
Two fingers buried inside her, he pressed on a sensitive spot, stalling her orgasm.
“No,” she moaned. “Don’t.”
“Not yet, fazleima. Not without permission.”
“I… what…”
Curling his hand over the top of her thigh, he licked her again. And again. Light flicks, gentle strokes, enough to keep her on edge without sending her over.
“Oh, no.”