Hunger's Mate (15 page)

“What do you think you know?”

She was afraid of what his answer might be, but certain that whatever he knew, it wasn't everything. Nobody knew that, nobody but her and Larry.

Both his hands were on her face now, cradling her cheeks as if she was somehow more precious than her past. A lump formed in her throat as she thought of just how impossible that actually was.

“I know that I was brought here for a purpose and that purpose has somehow led me to you. The pretty and intriguing Dawn Montgomery with eyes like a precious jewel.”

When she opened her mouth to say something, to refute what he'd just said, he moved one hand slightly so that his thumb lightly pressed against her lips.

“I also know that I will not let anything or anyone hurt you. Whatever is in your past, whoever is trying to find you, will have to go through me first.”

She shook her head. This was not the answer. These traitorous feelings rippling through her body at his touch, his intent gaze and his sweet words, it just wasn't right. Not for this moment and definitely not for her. He nodded, determined, as she watched him moving closer, his face now only inches from hers.

“I'm not leaving you. I don't care what you did or didn't do, I'm not leaving, unless you tell me to,” he said, his breath whispering over her skin, spreading even more warmth throughout her body.

The tip of his nose rubbed against hers as he tilted his head.

“Tell me to leave if that's what you want, Jewel.”

His lips brushed over hers as he talked, her mouth watering at the proximity, at the promise.

“Tell me to go and I will.”

Her heart hammered in her chest, her nipples hardening, center pulsating.

“Say the words, Jewel. Tell me you want me to go,” he insisted, this time his tongue snaking out to brush over the crease of her lips.

Jewel inhaled deeply, letting the breath out in one nervous whoosh, before throwing all caution to the wind and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

“Stay,” she mumbled before his lips took hers.

*   *   *

Ezra had kissed Jewel before. He'd felt the warmth of her lips, the sweet tangy taste of her tongue against his, and so he already knew he would have a reaction to her. But there was nothing to prepare him for the torrent of emotions that ripped through his body the moment their mouths collided this time.

Her arms around his neck gripped him so tightly, the cat inside pressed persistently against him and Ezra thought at any moment he might actually combust. Before that moment he'd wanted to experience every ounce of this pleasure, every second of her acquiescence. Yet it was so much more. As he pulled away to let her catch her breath, Ezra looked into her beautiful brown eyes once more. There was a bit of relief there, just a glimpse before she lowered her lashes and lifted her head for another kiss.

For one torturous instant something shifted inside and Ezra went completely still. His shoulders ached as he closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. He could smell the black smoke filtering through that damned hut, could feel the sting of it against his flared nostrils as it entered his system. Flash forward to the night he'd been so completely full of that same stench, that same sting through his nose and the death that had ensued.

His eyes flew open then, latching onto hers and focusing for more endless seconds. This was not Acacia. He was no longer in the jungle.

And this was just sex. It was basic, yet urgent. The need to be slaked, he insisted.

He came over her then, moving until she was lying back on the bed, his knee between hers as he lowered to kiss her once more. This kiss was different. It went deeper, touching places long since left silent in him, awakening, just as Dagar had predicted.

The cat hissed against that thought, reaching out for something more and Ezra obliged. His hands went to the rim of the towel, pulling it apart until all he could feel was bare skin. Gloriously soft and warm skin. Her breasts were full, overflowing as his large hands cupped one, squeezed, and then he moaned as spikes of pleasure shot straight to his dick. He continued to knead the soft mound, pressing his hips deeper into her center, hating the layers of clothing preventing him from the heated skin-on-skin contact.

She lifted a leg, her inner thigh rubbing along his outer one. He absolutely despised the clothes he wore then. But his hands followed the bare skin, moving down her bottom, to the back of her knees where he lifted her leg higher, tucking it around his waist. This allowed him to press even farther into her center, to pull her even closer to him. When he was barely able to tear his lips from hers, to bite along the line of her jaw, going down the line of her neck, her hands flattened against the back of his head, guiding him slowly down, down. Until his tongue flattened over her puckered nipple.

She gasped at the same time that his cat hissed. Her back arched and his mouth opened wider over the succulent mound. She was so soft, the lavender scented soap she'd used in the shower an intriguing contrast to her usual intoxicating aroma. His hand covered that mound as his mouth moved to its twin, suckling so deep he felt like he could actually devour her. Again, her hands tightened on the back of his head, driving the hunger stabbing at him with sharp pleasurable tinges until the next step was all but inevitable.

Going even lower Ezra inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, as his hands glided along her torso. He loved her scent, welcomed it over all others and, he reluctantly admitted to himself, craved it like an addict. She was soft here also, the small curve of her stomach a welcome contrast to the females of slighter build he'd been with. From here her hips flared into what—if he were indulging in a rear view—he knew was a delectably plump ass. From the front it was the closely shaved V of her juncture, the thickness of her thighs that he parted with a ragged moan.

The scent of her arousal coating the plump folds drifted up to his nose first, the sight of her opening like a precious flower, wet and enticing, actually had him wavering. Ezra Preston never wavered. His mouth watered and he closed his eyes to whatever dark thoughts were forming in his mind. He could pull away, he could get up off this bed and walk out on this female and nothing would happen to him, nothing would be lacking in him.

The cat felt differently and before the human could form a valid argument, Ezra was lowering his head, his tongue extended, licking drops of her arousal from the plump folds as it coated her. He growled, low and deep, and licked her again and again. When he suckled a soft vulva lip into his mouth his shoulders tensed, the cat pressing harder to break free and find its release, both equally persistent needs. She released her hold on his head, her fingers clutching the sheets beneath them instead and he sucked again, licked, then sucked, then licked some more.

Her body began to tremble slightly and Ezra continued his relentless assault, cupping her ass cheeks in his palms and lifting her up off the bed, closer to his mouth like a delectable feast. She gasped and moaned lightly, her hips pumping against his mouth. She tasted like warm honey, drizzling over his tongue in steady rivulets. Never really one for sweet treats, Ezra found himself wanting more and more. When he speared his tongue into her heated entrance, she bolted up off the bed so fast he almost lost his hold on her. But she wasn't there yet, she hadn't come into his mouth as he'd been so impatiently waiting for her to do. There had never been a time when Ezra had craved a female's release more than he'd craved the act of sex alone. Sure, he was experienced enough to pleasure each of his lovers thoroughly, but that was more like an item on the to-do list for him, sex more like a necessity that gnawed at him with vengeful clarity.

Yet with her, he wanted even more than her release, more than her pleasure. He wanted a part of her, something he could hold onto when he walked out of this room, something he could undoubtedly claim. Even though he shouldn't. He couldn't

But in the next seconds she was mumbling, “No. No. Stop it.”

She pushed at his shoulders until his lips jerked away from her heated flesh with a loud smacking noise. A second after the lost contact she was closing her thighs and rolling off the bed. Ezra was too stunned to stop her and too needy to protest. Lowering his head until his chin touched his chest he breathed in and out, in and out, slower and slower until he felt like he once again had control, over man and cat, the cat that desperately wanted to break free.

“I can't do it,” she whispered from the other side of her room.

He was both relieved and surprised she hadn't left, but then realized, where would she go? Paolo and another guard were standing right outside the door of her room. They wouldn't let her out, not without Ezra's consent. And he wasn't consenting to a goddamned thing.

“You can't let me pleasure you but you can lie about your identity for three years,” he said, coming to a stand.

His dick was so hard the tip throbbed painfully, his balls tight, ready to explode. He swallowed in his attempt at control, his dick aching even more, his fingers clenched at his sides. She'd pulled on a top that just barely covered her ass, and it was sheer. Because nothing about this night was going to go easily for him.

“You don't understand,” she said, pulling her arms up and crossing them over her chest.

Ezra took a step closer to her, stopped and waited until the cat inside had ceased its incessant pacing, and then took another. “You have no idea what I'd understand.”

“And you have no idea what I've been through,” she countered, shaking her head as she spoke.

Her hair, her natural hair was curly, about two or three inches long, lying against her neck in soft waves. He wanted to run his finger along her hairline, to touch the part of her that was real. Just as he'd wanted her release so desperately, because that too, would have been real. And it would have been his, just as he was deathly afraid he wanted her to be.

“We've all been through something, Jewel. That's what life is about,” he told her, even though the things he and Eli had been through were enough to last a couple of lifetimes. Still, he believed what he'd just said, he'd told his brother the same thing each time he'd become overwhelmed by their past.

Their present situation had escalated in the last few months. The reprieve the brothers had searched for in the jungle was doing exactly what the shaman predicted it would. It was wearing off. And if that was happening, then he was capable of that rage that had overtaken him before.

Ezra was close enough to touch her now, even though he knew it was a mistake. He should be the one to walk out of this room. He should leave her alone and protect them both from what could possibly end badly. The last woman he'd felt these urges with he'd ended up killing, her blood dripping from his hands. He would never be able to live with himself if that happened again, if that happened with Jewel.

Even with that logic beating against his skull like a drum, Ezra reached out to put his hands on her shoulders because he needed to feel her once more, and because he needed the other thoughts to disappear, at least for the moment. She stiffened instantly, moving forward as much as she could, being stopped by the dresser in front of her.

“I won't hurt you,” he told her, promising with every part of himself to keep his word.

She tsked. “That's what they all say.”

He bristled at the words, his brow furrowed. “I'm not them, or him, or whoever messed with your head before.”

“No. You're one of them,” she tossed back. “One of Mr. Perry's men who walk around here like you run the whole damned world. You ride in those SUVs, carry your guns, and call yourself a businessman. You're no better than he is.”

For a second Ezra thought she was telling him she knew he was a Shadow Shifter, or worse, that she knew he was a totally fucked-up Shadow Shifter. She'd seen that thing at the police station and she'd seen Jacques and Bas in their cat form and she'd been terrified. He'd protected her and then he'd gotten her the hell out of there, just like any man up against unnatural beasts would do for a female. He hadn't shifted, although his cat had wanted to break free, to charge that beast and break its unholy neck. But he hadn't. He'd gotten her to safety instead, he'd kept the secret. So her comparison had to be man versus man, he told himself with complete conviction.

“I'm not like any other man you've ever met. And you,” he said, letting his hands rub down her arms, “are not like any female I've ever met.”

“You don't know me,” she told him again. “You don't know why I did what I did.”

At this moment Ezra simply did not care. Her scent was intoxicating, her arousal calling to him on a primal level that had his teeth clenching. Yes, he knew that her real name was Dawn Montgomery and that she was being accused of stealing from someone—someone very powerful he presumed, to have bought off the police department and convinced them to hold her at their precinct until he arrived. ADAM was supposed to guard her, to keep her protected until the man arrived. But Ezra had gotten there first. He'd taken what was his and now he'd sacrifice his life to keep her safe.

Tonight, at this very moment, he was not only ignoring that dark part of him that promised retribution, but he'd also give up the true confessions session in exchange for making her his, for taking what he found he needed more than he needed to breathe.

Pushing the shirt up he had one hand over her breast and the other between her legs before she could open her mouth to speak. There was a mirror over the dresser. He hadn't paid much attention to it until this very moment, when he looked straight ahead to see her staring back at him. Her eyes were glazed with lust, tinged with denial. Her mouth, open to protest, was silenced by the pleasure he knew was spearing through her as his fingers slipped effortlessly through her still-damp folds, until his thumb rested on the hardened bud of her clit, his finger moving deep inside her center.