Stygian's Honor Page 13

  d to want, to hunger for something and have no name to give to what she hungered for.

  To her, it was the worst possible tease.

  “Tease you?” His voice was suddenly rougher, grating as he wrapped one arm around her back and pulled her closer. “I’d never tease you, Liza. I promise, I’m entirely, wholeheartedly serious about this. About you.”

  His head lowered and his lips touched hers.

  She was shaking. Like a leaf in the storm and any other cliché that slipped through her suddenly too-alert brain.

  Shudders of reaction began tearing through her as her lips parted and his settled more firmly against them, opening them, owning them.

  His tongue swiped over her lips, flicked past them and licked over her tongue.

  Suddenly, she knew what Isabelle had meant. His kiss was like a summer rainstorm, lightning and thunder chaos clamoring through her system as the taste of summer heat rushed through her senses.

  His lips slanted over hers, his hands pulling her closer as the feel of his erection pressing against her stomach had her tilting her hips and arching to meet him.

  Blood thundered through her veins, the fiery need spreading through her body, clamoring for more, burning away any objections she could have made.

  Desire burned through her in ways she couldn’t have anticipated. It sizzled across her flesh, sensitizing it, creating a receptive base for each touch he should deign to stroke across it.

  And she wanted each touch.

  His tongue flicked across her lips, teasing and heating them. She licked against it, loving that wild, stormy taste. Then it sank between her lips once again, giving her only seconds to close her lips over it, to contain the taste filling her system before it retreated once again.

  Oh God, the pleasure was exquisite.

  Her nipples hardened furiously. The pressure of her bra against the sensitive tips was almost agony, so she took it off.

  It wasn’t the fabric she wanted touching her. It was his hands, his fingers. She wanted the feel of his flesh against hers creating that roughened, electric pulse of sensations that raced across her skin.

  She ached for it.

  She had to get closer.

  Twining her arms around his neck, she arched to him, and still it wasn’t enough.

  “I can’t touch you like this,” she whimpered, pulling at his shirt as he released her lips for only a second. “I need to touch you more, Stygian.”

  So much for not being that kind of girl.

  At least she only wanted to be a sex slave for this man.

  And oh yes, she could handle sex slave.

  For a night or two, anyway.

  For a lifetime or two, definitely.

  “Oh.” Her eyes flew open as she felt his hand push beneath her shirt, the calloused, roughened flesh stroking up her back. “I like that.”

  No, she loved it.

  She arched into his touch, her lashes drifting closed as his hand stroked back down, curved around her hip then moved up her midriff, her rib cage—

  Opening her eyes, a ragged breath of air tore from her lungs as his palm cupped the swollen mound of her breast.

  Why her hand was suddenly gripping his wrist, she wasn’t certain.

  She looked down to where her fingers curled over his powerful wrist, her flesh much paler than his, the feel of those invisible hairs beneath softening its toughness.

  Breathing hard, barely able to draw in enough oxygen, she lifted her gaze to his once again. Liza pressed his hand more firmly against the curve of her breast. Still watching him, she let her own thumb stroke over the tight, hardened point of her nipple.

  Oh, that was good.

  Letting her lashes drift closed once more, feeling the caress of his gaze where her hand lay over his, she let her thumb rub against the sensitized peak as he watched.

  His breathing grew heavier, the heat against her flesh seemed searing. The hunger rising inside her was suddenly clamoring to take more sensation, to amplify it and torture them both with a need she was finding impossible to deny.

  Drawing her thumb back, a moan drifting past her lips, Liza was prepared to stroke the needy little nubbin again when suddenly, Stygian took control of the caress.

  With thumb and forefinger, he gripped the tip and rolled it between them, then let his lips brush against her jaw.

  “Get rid of this shirt.”

  Staring up at him as he used his free hand to tug at her shirt, Liza loosened her hold on his neck to grip the hem and pull it over her head.

  Oh, sweet Heaven.

  A brutal, ecstatic heat surrounded her nipple before the shirt fell to the floor.

  The pressure of his thumb and forefinger around the tip increased, milking the sensitive flesh and torturing nerve endings that suddenly burned in an ecstatic quest for more.

  Oh God, oh God, wasn’t that just like a Breed, taking advantage—

  With her body arched back, her breasts pushed forward and high, Stygian lowered his head and immediately sucked the painfully sensitive tip into his mouth.

  The cry that tore from her lips shocked her.

  The speed at which her hands buried in his hair, clenched in the strands and tried to pull him closer astounded her.

  As his tongue lashed at the pebbled hardness, Liza flinched with pleasure, shuddering in his arms as tremulous cries left her lips.

  Her nipple felt brutally hot. Too sensitive. The pleasure flaying the tip with merciless strokes tore through her senses and jerked her into a realm of such pleasure she felt tortured by it.

  “Oh yes, Stygian, please. Yes,” she moaned, her head tipping back, her aching pussy rubbing against the hard muscle of his thigh as her hips tilted to him.

  As he lifted her closer, his hard thigh pushed further between hers as he pulled her hips down to it and moved rhythmically against the sensitive, wet flesh. Even through the soft cotton of her pants she could feel the rasp of his jeans, the fiery warmth of his flesh and she wanted more. So very much more.

  She felt so empty.

  She swore she had never actually felt the inner flesh of her sex and the loneliness it felt. But she felt it now. It clenched and tightened and the slick layer of juices eased from it, creating a teasing friction that only amplified the need for more.

  Plumping the firm flesh of her breast with his fingers, Stygian worked the agonizingly tight peak of her nipple with his tongue. Rolling it over the sensitive flesh, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, laving it, rubbing the side of his tongue over the pebbled hardness as it grew increasingly tender. It ached, the hard flesh demanded—

  “Please.” Her fingers buried in his hair. “Oh God, what are you doing to me?”

  His head lifted.

  “Don’t stop.” Eyes flaring open in shock, she stared up at him as she watched him jerk his shirt off.

  Tight, hard abs flexed. The muscles of his chest rippled as his hair flowed around his shoulders.

  His blue-black gaze was piercing, filled with a demand that her body was responding to with incredible force.

  “Do we stop this now, or do we finish it, Liza?” His voice sounded tormented.

  “Stop?” Shock filled her. “Do I act like I want to stop, Stygian?”

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  What happened to a man taking what was offered and just running off the next morning rather than asking questions before he ever managed to get a woman into his bed?

  “I don’t want your regrets in the morning,” he stated, his tone rough.

  She had to curl her hands into fists to keep from touching him.

  All that tough-looking, prime, muscular male flesh did nothing but tempt her fingers and her lips to explore, to kiss.

  A sharp shake of her head was a mistake. Allowing him to pause, to speak, to be the man he was, was definitely a mistake.

  Because now, all she could think was, what the hell was she doing?

  She could taste him on her tongue, even now, as the
feel of his kiss should have been easing from her lips. Yet it wasn’t. It was still there, the sensitive curves still swollen and aching for more.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by an emotion she didn’t recognize or understand. “Don’t do that, Stygian. Don’t make me choose like this.”

  “Our tomorrows mean too much to me, Liza.”

  “Bullshit!” Anger shot through her as she jerked out of his arms, confronting him furiously. “Do you think I don’t know a play for control when I see one? God, just take it and stop talking.”

  She could barely breathe now for the emotions surging through her, for the hunger and the aching need for the return of his touch.

  Oh, she wasn’t having this.

  She wanted him. She wanted him until it was all she could do not to throw herself back into his arms. But as he stood there staring at her, his expression dominant, full of arrogance, she just wanted to kick him instead.

  Jerking her shirt from the bed, she pulled it over her head furiously.

  “‘Our tomorrows mean too much to me,’” she mocked him, her hands moving to her hips as she cocked one hip and faced him with such a surge of antagonism that she could barely breathe for it. “For God’s sake, Stygian, if tomorrow meant so damned much to you, then you would have kept your mouth shut and just fucked me while you had the chance.”

  “Like any other man would have done?” His arms crossed over his chest, and for just a second, she hated him for the fact that he wasn’t holding her. That he was blocking the heat she swore she was going to freeze without.

  “Well, yeah, pretty much,” she snapped back at him. “What do you want from me? Do I have to make you a few promises first? I thought that was your job? Come, Stygian, give me the empty promises, get me off, then leave me the hell alone.”

  Her father had always warned her that her smart mouth was going to end up costing her something she didn’t want to lose.

  It was her temper, she’d reminded him. A temper she’d gotten from him, so he really couldn’t blame her.

  But at the moment, she had a feeling it was going to end up costing her the night she’d really wanted to spend in this Breed’s bed. Just one night to go crazy in his arms, maybe sleep there for a bit, go crazy with him again, then face the reality she wanted only to hide from tonight.

  “Do you believe that’s all this means to me?” he asked, his expression savage as he watched her, his gaze beginning to glitter with anger. “A one-night stand with a woman that means nothing? Is that all it is to you, Liza? A few hours you can forget when reality returns and a man that will be content to just disappear from your life?”

  “Can I get that lucky?” God no, that wasn’t what she wanted, but still, the words burst from her lips before she could control them.

  “After that kiss?” The hard, triumphant smile that curled his lips had her heart stopping in her chest.

  It was a reminder. She’d wanted the truth of mating before he kissed her, right? So what had she been doing accosting him?

  Breathing rough, the need for oxygen suddenly slamming inside her, Liza stared up at him, the temper that had always been her downfall exploding at the satisfaction she glimpsed in his eyes.

  “After that kiss?” she exclaimed furiously. “Sorry, Breed, but maybe it’s not as damned powerful as you were hoping it was. I guess I have my answer. Those tabloids are full of shit.”

  Swinging around, she made for the bathroom with the intent of locking herself in and taking the coldest shower possible.

  She had taken maybe two steps—counting them wasn’t high on her list of priorities—when in the next breath, she was back flat against the wall and staring up at him as the first tear slid slowly from the corner of one eye.

  Oh God, she hated crying. She never cried in front of anyone, and crying in front of him was just humiliating.

  He was so strong, so dominant and determined. She wanted to be strong in his eyes as well.

  Tears were not a sign of strength, thank you very much.

  “Just let me go.” Rough, those damnable tears rasping at her throat, Liza tried to look away and hold back that pain.

  Meeting his gaze was the hardest thing she had done in recent memory, but she forced herself to anyway. She met his gaze and swore if she saw pity there, she was going to slam her knee straight into his balls.

  His lips quirked. “The scent of your sweet pussy weeping for me only just slightly overshadows your hunger to do me harm, Liza.”

  Forcing the sneer to curl her lip and fight back her tears took everything she had. “Why not just call me ‘mate.’ That’s what Malachi calls Isabelle. And we both know that’s why my mouth is watering for your kiss almost as bad as my pussy is creaming for your dick.”

  Vulgar, meant to be insulting. It might have been just that if it weren’t for the husky, phone-sex tone of her voice. And she might have felt just a smidgen of shame if his eyes hadn’t suddenly dilated in pure, undiluted lust as a primitive, animalistic growl rumbled in his chest.

  If they had been close before, a second later it wouldn’t be possible for a breath of air to slide between their hips as his hands clamped on her rear, lifted her, and in one smooth move had her thighs spread, her knees clamping on his hips as he ground his erection, hard, into the vee of her thighs.

  Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the room again.

  Breathing had never been so difficult. Her nipples pressed hard into his chest with each breath she took, and her clit was so swollen, so sensitive that the feel of her silk panties grinding into it was torturous.

  “When I bury my dick up that tight pussy, Liza, you’re going to wish you’d given more heed to whatever it is you think you know,” he warned her, his voice harsh. “Mate.” He nipped her lips, then licked the little wound.

  Liza gasped, her lips parting, and as they opened, Stygian was there.

  His kiss was incredibly hot. So hungry she could only give in to it as pleasure tore through her in a wave of sensation so intense she swore she nearly orgasmed from it. She could feel it building, pulsing, riding the edge of release with such sharp intensity that she shuddered with its need.

  Just as quickly, he released her.

  Liza swayed as she found herself alone, the wall the only thing between her and losing her balance completely.

  Staring back at Stygian as he paced away from her, his hands tunneling through his hair in frustration, she wondered exactly how he managed it.

  She couldn’t have walked away from him if her life had depended on it. Evidently the hunger was affecting her far more deeply than it was him.

  Turning back to her, the blue glints in his eyes seemed to glow while his expression tightened with such savagery it sent an involuntary shudder up her spine.

  “Mate.” His lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace of pure lust. “My mate.”

  Confidence and power filled him. Where was the fairness in that when she suddenly felt so…female. So much weaker than he, and for some unfathomable reason, ready to beg to submit to him.

  Instead, she forced herself to lift her chin willfully.

  “Yours?” Pushing herself away from the wall, she breathed in roughly. “Not hardly, Stygian. Some damned chemical reaction does not make me yours. Nor does it make me even want to be yours. So maybe you should consider revising your bedside manner, stud, because this one is only pissing me off.”

  With that, she stalked to the bathroom, slammed the door closed and locked it.

  She sure as hell didn’t want him smelling that particular lie.

  CHAPTER 11

  Liza had learned over the years the fine art of the delicate lie as she worked, first with her father in the security division of the headquarters of the Navajo Nation, then as she began training to work with the Breed Underground Network.

  Breeds could smell a lie or even the intent to deceive. Learning how to lie just in case it was a Breed one was conversing with had become second nature. Bu
t she had never had to learn how to lie about her attraction to a Breed, or her need. And lying about it was suddenly imperative. Otherwise, Stygian would end up with enough power over her to ensure that she was willing to do whatever he asked her to do. Just as she suspected Isabelle was willing to do whatever Malachi asked of her. Now, she understood, sort of, why her friend would stand so solidly with the man that called her “mate.” Especially if he gave her the illusion of respect and a choice.

  Not that she discussed her suspicions with Stygian. He would of course deny all of it. After all, what man, or Breed for that matter, would want to admit that his woman didn’t have a choice.

  Or did she?

  As she showered, dressed and applied her makeup for work the next morning, she had to admit that she didn’t feel inclined to give Stygian anything other than sex. And honestly, the need for his touch was becoming so strong, so desperate she really wasn’t certain how long she would last before begging for it.

  Crying for it.

  Screaming for it.

  It was really rather amusing if one looked at it from the right perspective. That was, if the person wasn’t the one suffering, then it would have been amusing, she told herself as they rode to the Nation’s headquarters that morning.

  Yes, she would have been very amused, if it wasn’t her burning alive from the inside with the need to feel his touch. His possession.

  She was certain she should be traumatized from it, after all, as a virgin, she should have been terrified of so much hunger for something she’d never experienced before.

  “I think you should put in a request for a leave of absence as long as this situation in progress,” Stygian finally spoke as the black, unmarked Bureau of Breed Affairs SUV pulled up to the front entrance of the Navajo Nation Headquarters.

  “I think you should do your job and let me do mine.” She clenched her teeth and cursed herself for the quick, uncensored response.

  Damn, she hadn’t wanted to be quite so confrontational.

  She hadn’t wanted to be, but her body felt miserable. She was too sensitive, her flesh too warm, her breasts too swollen and her clit far too tender.

  She was too aroused and too upset and too many other things to even consider dealing with him on a less hostile basis.

  Because, of course, it was all his damned fault.

  “What did you want me to do, Liza?” He caught her arm before she could open the door. “Take advantage of the situation without giving you a chance to consider where it’s going?”

  And, of course, he just had to step forward and throw himself full force into that confrontation didn’t he?

  “Because I’m so damned stupid I couldn’t possibly have known it was headed straight to one of those nice big beds,” she agreed mockingly. “Why, you did the right thing, of course, Stygian. Far be it for you to allow yourself to just be male for a change. To let the situation go and have a little fun. I agree, that would be so very uncalled for.”

  Damn it.

  Pressing her lips together tightly, she promised herself she was going to keep the smart remarks to thought only.

  What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t hold back her need for him, her anger with him, or her verbal responses that she’d never had a problem keeping to herself before. For the first time in her life, she really wanted a man. Wanted him so badly that even before he shared that tasty hormone and this burning lust with her, she’d ached for him. She had wanted him like nothing she had wanted in her life before him.

  The knowledge of that was simply terrifying, because the reaction to him was so strong, so overwhelming that it felt as though it were coming from someone entirely different than the person she knew herself to be.

  More than once she had felt the power of it, a surge of possessiveness and lust that she could barely contain, mixing with a response so primal as to be more animal than human. As though the need for him, the “mating” as they called it, made her more Breed than human.

  “You’re pushing your limit.”

  “Oh, I have a limit?” Eyes wide in false innocence, she stared back at him as though she had never imagined such a thing. “Why, Stygian, you should have let me know before now.”

  “What I should have done was bend you over that fucking bed and paddled your ass before fucking you into a better frame of mind,” he growled as he released her.

  Before she could let loose with a scathing comeback, he was out of the vehicle and striding around the vehicle to her door.

  She would have unleashed the heated comments that flashed across her mind if they weren’t wiped completely away by the sight of him stalking, in a purely predatory way, his head high, shoulders back, chest as wide as hell, as he came along the passenger side of the vehicle. The sight of his erection bulging in his jeans as the wind whipped the loose cotton shirt close to his body threatened to take her breath.

  Her mouth went dry, then began to moisten just as quickly as her pussy began creaming in need of him.

  Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell.

  Her door was jerked open.

  Stygian’s lips parted as though to say something more before his nostrils flared and his eyes seemed to glaze in lust for the barest moment.

  A muttered curse left his lips as Liza stepped from the vehicle and tossed him a tight, satisfied smile. At least she wasn’t the only one left aching with such misery.