Page 307 of Primal Bonds

Setting her hands on his chest, she eased herself down. He slipped inside and she stilled. “It feels…different.” She slid down the rest of the way, and then sucked in a breath as he touched deep inside, where she still throbbed. “Deeper.”

“Good,” he said hoarsely as he grasped her hips and started to move. “It feels…good. So fucking good.”

“Sim…” She slipped into Portuguese without realizing it. Telling him how beautiful he was, how good he made her feel.

She skated her palms over his chest. His skin was heated, a little sweaty. She fingered his nipples, and his breath hitched.

She leaned down to rub her breasts over his chest. The wiry hair abraded the sensitive tips. Electricity jolted through her.

She closed her eyes, drinking it in.

This. She hungered for this.

Not just the pleasure, but the closeness. She’d been so starved for touch.

Wonder filled her, a wonder touched with sorrow. How could she have found this beautiful, aching closeness only to let it go? Let him go?

She slid her arms beneath his hard shoulders, set her face against his.

Mine, she thought fiercely.

She would save him. And then somehow, she’d force both their clans to accept them as mates.

At that moment, it seemed not just possible, but inevitable.

He moved her so her breasts were over his face and latched his mouth onto her nipple. A single hard suck and she was lost, sobbing out his name.

“Take it.” He thrust inside her, firm and deep. Moved his mouth to her other nipple to suck that, too.

Mine, she thought with each hard stroke. Mine, mine, mine.

Her blood heated, flushing her face, pounding in her ears. She dug her nails into his shoulders and with a helpless sigh, shot over the edge.

He released her nipple to capture her mouth. Devouring her while he thrust into her, over and over, until he pushed up hard in her and stilled. Tearing his mouth from hers, he buried his face in her hair.

“Rosana,” he growled against her ear, and came.

Chapter 7

Sometime after midnight, Adric jerked awake. He glanced around, shaking off a very pleasant dream. Rosana was sprawled on top of him, her breasts soft against his chest, her head tucked into the curve of his neck.

His mouth curved. So that part of the dream had been true.

After they’d made love the second time, they’d napped and then taken a hot shower together. Just a shower—he’d wanted to give her time to heal. But he’d never had such an erotic shower. They’d washed each other from head to toe, intermixed with slow, sensuous kisses, until the hot water ran out.

They’d toweled each other dry—and then she’d gone to her knees on the bathroom rug before him. Her mouth was warm and wet, and while a part of him registered her lack of experience, the rest of him muttered who the fuck cares and enjoyed.

Then it was his turn. He led her back to the bed and feasted on her, reveling in her sexy little sounds of pleasure and how she wriggled and bucked beneath his tongue and hands.

By then it was dinnertime. She put on her snug red jacket and those fuck-me boots, and he took her to a restaurant overlooking the canal. They had local beers and grilled rockfish as the stars appeared, one by one, over the canal’s night-dark waters.

When they returned to the B&B, he had her strip and then helped her step back into the boots while she watched with those wide, ocean-blue eyes. They’d explored all the ways a man and woman could enjoy each other without full penetration before falling asleep, bodies entwined.

Now she snuggled closer, murmuring his name. He tightened his arms around her, nape tingling uneasily.

What had awoken him?

The outside door opened. Footsteps started up the stairs to the main floor. Three people, from the sound of it.

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