hammered into her. She thought she knew what pleasure was. This… this was insanity. She clawed at him, wanting him closer. There were too many clothes between them. She wanted, needed to feel his skin next to hers. “More,” she panted. “I need more!”
Shayla pushed at his chest, trying to reach between them to get rid of his shirt.
Rory tipped her backward. Shay tightened her thighs, her legs still wrapped around his waist. He captured her hands and slammed them down over her head, pinning her to the ground.
“Skin. Touch. Need.” She tugged at her arms, the need to touch him skin to skin so extreme she was incoherent with it.
“Skin. Yes,” he agreed gutturally. Rory balanced on one knee, hips still pumping, and dragged one sharp claw down the front of Shayla’s torso. Her clothes fell open. At the sight of her body, his eyes began to glow.
Shayla bucked against him, once more tugging on her arms. “Yours. Off. Touch. Please!”
“Yes.” One swipe and his shirt was rags. He threw the tattered pieces off. Then he came to his knees, pulling Shayla up until she straddled his lap, and released her hands.
Shayla wrapped her arms around his neck and let her legs drop from his waist. She planted her boots firmly on the ground for leverage and rubbed her chest against his sinuously, like a cat. Simultaneously she kissed and licked every part of him she could reach, wallowing in his scent, his taste. “Good. So. Good,” she groaned.
Rory palmed the back of her head and brought her mouth to his neck. “Bite me!”
A tiny alarm sounded at the back of her mind but was quickly smothered. It was difficult to think with her body continuously convulsing. Another voice, one she’d never heard before, spoke. “ Bite. Claim. Mine .”
She played with his neck, licking and nibbling, occasionally scraping the tendon with her teeth. Claim Rory? Was that something she wanted to do?
Rory’s hands gripped the cheeks of her ass, pulling them apart while he held her to him, spiked by his pistoning cock. He shifted angles and hit something inside that caused her back to bow and her nails to dig into his skin, drawing blood. “Shit!” She screamed the profanity into the night as another orgasm ricocheted through her body.
His claws dug into the sensitive inner area lining her rectum, hard enough to sting but not pierce through the skin. The hint of violence thrilled her, and her greedy pussy tightened on his cock.
“Bite me!” His voice joined with the one in her head. “Bite him, mark him, make him ours.”
Shayla pulled back and shook her head, confused. There was something she was supposed to remember. Some reason why she shouldn’t. She couldn’t think, and she desperately needed to.
“Bite me!”
“Bite. Mark. Claim.”
Their voices blended together, and something broke loose inside of Shayla. It rose to the surface, and her vision changed, colors bleeding to gray. A growl started low in her chest, swelling until it rolled out of her throat.
“ Bite me !”
Instinct took over and Shayla lunged. She clamped her teeth down on the tendon that connected his neck and shoulder, biting him so hard she broke skin and his blood filled her mouth.
Rory howled triumphantly. “Mine,” he roared as he shifted into his half-man/half-wolf form.
The feel of his fur growing against her tongue caused Shay to jerk her mouth free.
He lifted her off him and over onto her stomach. Pulling Shay to her knees, he locked his teeth on her shoulder and drilled her from behind. Their mating was raw, intense, primal, and when it was over, all Shayla could do was lie there, drained.
He’d reversed their positions so she could sprawl on top of him instead of the hard ground.
“Never again. I won’t let you go. You’re mine.”
Shayla shivered at the certainty she heard in his voice. Something had just happened. Something important, but she lacked the cognitive ability to decipher it. She was too tired. Shifting her head
David Drake, S.M. Stirling
Sarah Fine and Walter Jury