Dragon Storm (32 page)

But not for the average giant. That thought was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Kit was devastating her with his tongue, his teeth. With his thick, knowing fingers. Her vision blurred and her body bowed in response. She gripped his head in her hands, lifting her hips up to meet his mouth. “Kit.
Yes
. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

His fingers tightened on her thighs, and he lifted his mouth. “My greedy angel. Come for me, Jesse. Come against my tongue. I want it all. Every fucking drop.”

“
Kit
.” He swirled his tongue deep inside her, his thumb pressing her aching clit, and Jesse couldn’t hold back. She cried out with the power of her climax, coming against his mouth while the water poured down her burning skin. Kit pulled her closer, groaning with approval as his raspy tongue lapped at the lips of her sex, as if he couldn’t get enough of her taste.

Her mouth opened on a soundless scream when his fangs pierced her inner thigh. Fire flowed through her veins and into her core from the drugging ecstasy of his bite.

Jesse felt herself coming again and again, waves of pleasure that seemed to grow stronger with every moment that passed. Her gaze was captured by a snarling Max, his own fangs extended while his attention fixated on the healing mark on her breast. She closed her eyes, her body on overload.

“I can’t…it’s too much.”

Kit cleaned the wound with his tongue before getting up to stand beside her. Her heavy lids lifted to see his massive cock hovering just out of reach. She wanted to taste it, to return the pleasure he’d given her, but he didn’t give her the chance. “It’s not enough,
sarasvatti
. It will never be enough. I need to be inside you.”

He lifted her by her hips, sliding beneath her so she was sitting on his lap. Kit leaned his chin on her shoulder, holding her while she rubbed against him, her body screaming for his. “Now you know.”

Max answered, his voice rough with longing in the large hall. “Now I know.”

“I will have your vow.”

Jesse watched Max kneel on the marbled floor in front of them. “With the blood I spill, you have my vow. Only death can break it.” He pulled a dagger from his boot, slicing open his palm before Jesse could stop him.

“What are you doing?”

Kit pulled her back against his chest, his hands tightening on her hips as he probed her with his cock. “
We
are protecting you,
sarasvatti
. And I? I am loving you.” The last words were whispered softly in her ear before he pulled her down, filling her heated sex with his thick erection.

Her body was still reacting from his bite, fluttering with residual contractions as he stretched her. A part of her seemed to watch from the corner of the room in disbelief. She watched as the voluptuous goddess threw back her head, her fiery tresses spilling across the bronze giant’s chest as she fought to accept all of him inside her.

She was heedless of the man at their feet. She took his worship as her due while his blood dripped from his clenched fist onto the floor, his other hand cupping his stiff erection through his pants, desperate for his own release.

The woman beneath the waterfall lifted her breasts in her hands, squeezing her nipples hard between her fingers, loving the sharp sensation. She was shameless in her sensuality. Focused only on the pleasure hammering her body as her lover drove her down onto his cock, faster and deeper with every stroke.

She came back to herself with a cry as Kit lifted one hand from her hips to spank her clit. “That’s what I want. I want to hear your cries of need echoing through these somber halls.”

He spanked her again, growling when she tightened her muscles around him in response. “You’re like hot silk around my cock. Your pussy grips me tighter than any fist,
sarasvatti
. Great Mother,
Jesse
, I’ve never felt such heat.”

Jesse freed her breasts, reaching back to grip his thighs for balance as she rode him harder, forcing him in as deep as he could go. Kit gave a shout of surprised pleasure. “
Yes
. That’s it, angel. Take what is yours. Fuck me.”

She rocked against him, reveling in the stretch, the sting as her internal muscles were forced to give way to his hard shaft. His mouth opened on her shoulder, fangs pressing against her flesh but not breaking the skin. She could feel his restraint, feel him holding back, maintaining his control. But she didn’t want him to have control. Not now.

Jesse’s nails dug sharply into his thighs and she lifted herself up, until the head of his cock was barely inside her, and stopped. She clenched her muscles rhythmically around the tip of his shaft, but held herself back, keeping what he wanted just out of reach.

Kit’s grip tightened on her hips. “Jesse? Baby, you’re killing me.” She resisted his gentle tug, shaking her head.

Max stilled, tilting his head as he waited to see what she was up to. But Kit knew. “You
think
you want me to lose all my control,
sarasvatti
, but you don’t. Or are you angling for a special kind of punishment?”

Love can drive you over the edge. It can also let you fly.

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

© 2009 Crystal Jordan

In the Heat of the Night, Book Four

Pixie Parthon worked hard to make her music production company a success. Anyone who gets in her way gets the business end of her Fae magic. Her savvy business sense kept her family afloat for years, but now that her musician brother is mated and off on a world tour she’s feeling left in the dust.

Maybe it was a faint wish for a little love magic for herself, but she didn’t expect one night of cutting loose to leave her marked for life. A little love bite is one thing. Give up her hard-won independence to a pushy alpha werewolf? She’ll pass.

Malcon is just as shocked as Pixie, but for a different reason. From the moment he saw her, his desire went far beyond getting into her pants. When she agreed—begged—to be bitten, he believed she also sensed their destiny to be mates.

Now it’s too late. Nothing will convince Pixie that he has no intention of clipping her wings—not even a month’s worth of orgasms on call. Crazy as it sounds, love is all he wants from her. Even if it means letting her go…

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Crazy Little Thing Called Love:

Three weeks later, Malcon was still on the campaign and gaining ground, I had to admit. I was nowhere near giving in, but every moment I spent with him made me like him more, want him more, crave him more. My heart jumped when I saw him each evening, and it saddened me to leave him every morning. I counted the hours to when I got to see him again like some teenager with her first crush.

It scared the shit out of me.

I should call the deal off, tell him no, and move on with my life. I knew it. I’d even tried to make myself say it more than once. So far, I was pathetically unsuccessful. I didn’t want to stop seeing him, and that complicated the shit out of everything. That was exactly what he wanted. The problem was, things were going smoothly. Nothing had been tested and crumbled under pressure, so it was all shiny and pretty and new. I wasn’t running from coast to coast like I had so often. Wolf pack politics and business were good. We were good. When the brown stuff hit the fan and splattered the way it inevitably did, he would try to fence me in the way every other male had. So, while I was letting myself enjoy the moment, it was with the slight dread in the pit of my stomach of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Sucking in a deep breath, I refocused on the quarterly reports in front of me. I had a boatload of meetings tomorrow, so I had to get a bigger boatload of paperwork done tonight. I should be relieved by a break from Malcon, but I wasn’t.

An hour later, my cell phone vibrated across the surface of my desk and made me jolt. My heart raced, and I pressed my palm to my chest. I pushed the button on my cell phone that transferred the call to the Bluetooth in my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, Pixie.”

A smile automatically curved my lips at the sound of his voice. “Hey, you. What’s up?”

“Not much.” I could hear an answering smile form on his handsome face. “How late are you working tonight?”

“Late.” I looked at the stacks of paperwork that covered every available surface in my office. I sighed. “Very late.”

He hummed sympathetically. “That’s too bad.”

“What are you doing?” I leaned back in my chair and kicked my heels up onto the desk, crossing my ankles.

He chuckled. “Working very late. We’re taking a break for another forty-five minutes, but then I have to put in a conference call to Tokyo.”

“Ouch. That’s what, a seventeen-hour difference?”

“About that, yeah.” There was a short pause. “So, I was thinking we should have dinner together.”

“If we’re both working madly on opposite sides of the city, how do you—” A knock sounded on the outer office door. “Hold on a sec.”

My eyebrows arched. Was it him again? My sex clenched at the mere thought of what we’d done together the last time we were in my office. I hopped up to open the door. A courier stood there with a plastic bag from my favorite Italian place in one hand and a vase with a dozen purple roses in the other. I blinked for a moment, then flipped the lock and opened the door. “Hi.”

“Pixie Parthon?” The kid offered a bashful smile.

I nodded. “That’s me.”

“Sign here, please.”

I scrawled my name on the digital pad he held out to me, and then collected my booty. Locking the door behind the courier, I couldn’t stop the stupid smile that spread as I smelled the roses.

Malcon’s voice sounded softly in my ear. “Did you get it?”

“Yes.” A little laugh spilled out, and I carried the heavy crystal vase and food to my office. Clearing off one of the piles of paper from my credenza, I set the roses in the middle where I could see them from my desk. I couldn’t resist taking another lungful of their spicy sweet scent. “Malcon, the flowers are beautiful. Thank you.”

His voice deepened the way it did when he was pleased. “So, like I said, I think we should have dinner together.”

“You had Moretti’s delivered to you too?” The stupid grin widened with delight. This was without a doubt the most creative non-date I’d ever had. Okay, so it was the only one, but still. It was nice of him to think of this.

I heard him shift the receiver against his ear. “They make the best veal parmigiana.”

Plopping myself into my chair, I opened the bag and all the various containers inside. There was even a little bottle of Pellegrino. My stomach gave a rumble as I ripped open the packet of plastic silverware. “Mmm, I love their three-cheese ziti. How did you know?”

“The manager told me your favorites.”

“Ha! Rosa is the best.” I forked a bite of it into my mouth and moaned. “Oh man. This is so good.”

His low growl filtered through the phone, and I moaned a little louder on the next bite to torment him. He laughed. “Minx. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” I sipped the fizzing water. “I was going to skip dinner, so this is fabulous. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I heard him chew a bite slowly and swallow. “So…how was your day?”

“Good. Busy.” Settling back in my chair, I spent the rest of his break chatting with him about how our work had gone.

It was…nice. I really, really liked it. Almost as much as I liked him. I groaned when I hung up the phone, dropping my forehead to my desk. God, I was in so much trouble with this man.

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