Hour of the Lion, Cherise Sinclair [good story books to read TXT] 📗

it, enjoying the way she clenched with each stroke. She hadn‘t wanted to lose control—he‘d seen that clearly—but when she did, she was glorious.

As her shuddering slowed, he eased his finger out, smiling at how slick she was and how her scent had sweetened with her climax. "By Herne, you taste like the finest honey." After a final lick that elicited only a tiny quiver, he moved back up her body.

Her arms lay limp at her sides, and he grinned, his scalp tender from her tugging on his hair.

He‘d never enjoyed anything so much in his life as sliding past her desire to control everything...and making her come. He kissed her lightly. "You‘re beautiful, Vicki," he whispered.

When she blinked in surprise, then smiled in pleasure, his heart squeezed. Her tough attitude covered up such tender feelings. The discovery made him want her all the more.

He settled between her legs and pressed his cock lightly against her slick entrance. By Herne, he needed to be in her. Her eyes widened, and then he sheathed himself, all the way home in one move.

Back arching, she clenched. "Oh God!"

"No, just Alec." She was hot. Tight. He closed his eyes, not moving, simply savoring the squeeze of her pussy around him, letting her accustom to his size.

"I like how you feel." Her voice was husky, the sound pulling him down to take her mouth and pillage those soft, swollen lips.

When he rubbed his chest across her breasts, her nipples hardened to points at the friction.

Finally, unable to hold out any longer, he started to thrust, the feeling rich and good.

She ran her hands up his back, played with his hair, obviously starting to regain her senses.

Couldn‘t have that. He kissed her again, smiled against her lips, and raised his hips enough to allow his hand down below. When his fingers touched her clitoris, she gasped, and her inside muscles tightened around him so quickly he almost lost control. Herne help him.

As he set up a hard rhythm, her eyes unfocused. Her hands closed on his shoulders. With each thrust, he slid a wet finger across her sensitive flesh, and suddenly her hips were pumping with real urgency.

"God, Alec, I don‘t need… I already…"

Oh, but he needed. He needed to feel her spasm around him, to see her overwhelmed again.

"Shhh." He took her mouth and drove hard as her heat tightened. She met him thrust for thrust, pressing him to go faster. Too fast. Gripping her ass, he slowed her rhythm, rotating his hips instead. Her muscles quivered, and he surged deeper.

Her breath puffed hot and fast against his neck as little moans escaped her. He gritted his teeth and slowed further, feeling each inch going in, each inch withdrawing, the finest sensation known to a male. Again, and again.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders. "Alec, please... Please…"

Her thigh muscles were quivering, her pussy tight around him. She was close. Pulling her hips up to meet his, he plunged, deeper, harder, and her wail filled the room.

As she spasmed, every muscle in his body tightened. His balls drew up tight to his groin as if someone had them in a firm grip. Another hard thrust and his release blew through him, white-hot pressure from deep inside as he poured himself into her. As her hips lifted up to him, her pussy billowed against his shaft, drawing out the last drop.

Heart pounding, he rested on his elbows, studying her flushed face and the pulse hammering in her neck. She was warm around him, soft under him. Just another female…yet this joining felt different. Her body under his hands felt just right, his release more satisfying. Fulfilling. How could that be?

He kissed her gently. They were yet joined when he rolled, placing her taut little body on top where he could let his hands stroke over her soft, damp skin. A mountain rescue of two young hikers had left him exhausted, but after a short rest, he damn well intended to have her again and collect some sweet screams.

*

"Cosantir, we need your help." The whisper came from outside the small Gathering room where Calum lay sprawled over Ursula‘s naked body. Although he‘d felt oddly unenthusiastic this Gathering, Ursula had nagged, and he‘d finally relented and brought her upstairs. The scent of her arousal had sparked his own, and the joining had been adequate, if not fulfilling.

She murmured drowsily as he withdrew and rose. After pulling on his clothes, he slipped out of the room.

Karen waited in the hallway, her face shiny with sweat, almost whining with impatience.

"Tell me what is wrong," he said in a low voice.

"A fight, Cosantir," she choked out. "Farrah went outside with the two males she had chosen, Chad and Patrick. An out-of-territory male followed them to the south clearing and started a fight."

She grabbed his arm. "They‘re fighting as animals, and the guy‘s a grizzly and Chad‘s only a little wolf. He‘s hurting him."

Bloody hell. Calum ran down the stairs. The normally locked door to the portals stood propped open for Gathering. Down into the cave, out onto the mountain. The night wind blew cold against his skin, still warm from mating.

Growls and pain-filled yelps came from ahead. The males were indeed fighting in animal form.

When he reached the clearing, he snarled. Up on hind legs, a seven-foot grizzly swung its arms at a wolf. Near the trees, Farrah was crying hysterically and clinging to Patrick. Karen ran across to join them.

The scents of anger and fear—and blood—hung heavy in the air. The wolf limped from a badly mangled hind leg and tried to retreat, but the stranger kept advancing. Wanting the kill.

Not on my mountain. "By Herne, you will halt!" The command backed by the God‘s power hit the two animals. Stunned, they dropped to their haunches, shaking their heads. Calum motioned for Patrick to pull Chad out of danger.

The unknown grizzly remained in the center of the clearing, trying to regain its feet.

The bear growled when Calum