Page 299 of Primal Bonds

Anticipation coursed through her. She shivered and rubbed the goosebumps that popped up on her arms.

“Cold?” he asked.

“No. Just…” She shrugged a shoulder.

His smile was knowing. He dragged off his T-shirt.

Her breath jammed in her throat. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him unclothed.

He was…perfect. Smooth, honey-brown skin stretched over firm muscles. Dark hair dusted his pecs, arrowed through washboard abs before disappearing beneath his waistband. Her gaze locked on the hard ridge beneath his zipper.

He didn’t give her nearly enough time to look. Instead, his hands were on her waist, his mouth covering hers. He walked her backward until her thighs hit the mattress, then lifted her onto the bed and crouched at her feet.

Slipping off her boots and socks, he cradled one boot in his hand. “Later,” he said with a wicked curve of his lips, “you’ll wear these for me—and nothing else.”

“I will?” She eyed the boot, intrigued. But it wasn’t in her nature to submit easily. When you were the youngest child—and a girl—in a family with four large, hard-ass brothers, you either stood up for yourself or got crushed.

She moistened her lips. “Maybe if you ask nice.” Her voice came out husky, seductive, in a tone she barely recognized as hers.

His smile increased. “You’ll do it. That’s my reward for winning the race.”

She arched a brow. “What reward? I didn’t agree to—"

“But you’ll do it. Because I want you to.” He set down the boot but remained where he was, crouched between her legs. Warm hands ran up her inner thighs. He rubbed a thumb over the seam of her jeans. “Won’t you?”

She moaned, so sensitized that even that small pressure was almost too much.

Then he leaned forward and replaced his thumb with his mouth, and it got even better. He blew on the material, a hot, moist stream that nearly made her come out of her skin.

Gulping air, she dug her fingers into the fake leopard skin and arched her back. Pressing her pelvis toward him, unconsciously begging for more.

He undid the button of her jeans and eased down the zipper. Two long fingers slid inside. He worked them under the boy shorts so he could tease her clit.

“Say yes, angel. Say you’ll wear the boots. To please me.”

She studied him. His eyes glinted up at her, bright, devilish. Did he mean it, or was it a game? Either way, she wasn’t ready to give in.

She smiled and twisted against his fingers. If he’d just apply a bit more pressure…

“More,” she said in smoky tones that made him swallow. Hard.

He rose up to kiss her. His tongue swirled around hers, while inside her jeans, his fingers moved in a similar tantalizing pattern. Promising pleasure but holding it just out of reach.

“You’re so wet.” A low growl. “So ready for me. But I haven’t heard a yes.”

He withdrew his hand from her pants and brought his hand to his mouth, licking her juices from his first two fingers while he watched her from beneath his lids.

She blinked up at him. Somehow she’d ended flat on her back with him propped on an elbow next to her.

He peeled her out of the tight jeans, and then shucked his own pants. He crawled over her, heavily erect, his only adornment the big chunk of gray-and-orange quartz hanging from the leather thong around his neck.

His expression was hard with desire, his bronze irises shot with the blue of his cougar. They were gorgeous, mesmerizing, like cyan fireworks exploding against a dusk sky.

Both man and cat were making love to her.

A primitive thrill raced over her skin. She touched his cheek, letting her own animal into her eyes—and surrendered.

Because suddenly, she didn’t want to play games. What mattered was that he wanted her, and that she wanted him back, clear to the wild, untamed heart of her.

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