Taming the Queen of Beasts

<strong>GAR  </strong>

"I want you."

Gar's entire skin prickled, pebbling with goosebumps that washed over him in the wave of emotion accompanying those whispered words.

His grip on her hips tightened instinctively, but he forced himself to relax it, not wanting to scare her. But Rika didn't seem to even notice.

Pressing herself into his chest, her fingers clawing deliciously across his scalp, she kissed under his jaw, to his throat, her lips full and soft against his Adam's Apple. He shuddered again, his hips rolling instinctively against her.

She sucked in when his very prominent arousal, tight and uncomfortable in his leathers, pressed against her. But to his delight, she didn't freeze, or tense, but sank into the pressure, rubbing herself against him as she opened her mouth on his skin.

The mating call, low and gruff, vibrated in his chest and Rika made a little noise.

"Holy hell, that sound," she breathed, pulling back far enough to meet his eyes, her own wide with wonder and the fire sparking between them. "How do you do that?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, combing his fingers through her hair and letting the soft strands trail through his fingers and down her back. "It comes from my soul."

She blinked, then beamed at him. "I can't wait," she said, her smile turning wicked. "I can't wait, Gar. I want you."

Before he could respond, she took his mouth again, her breath rushing out of her nose and across his cheek to flutter in his hair.

With a groan vibrating in his chest, he sat up straighter to bring their bodies together, fighting the urge to pull her against him hard, to claw his fingers down her back. He needed to be closer.

Slowly, so she could stop him if she wanted to, he let his fingers slide up her thighs, to her hips, under the hem of her shirt until he found her waist.

Heart hammering, body aching for her, he forced himself to stop there for the moment, but Rika, panting, sat back far enough to get her hands between them and started quickly unbuttoning her shirt.

Gar whimpered as the shadow between her breasts was revealed, then her stomach. His fingers tightened, desperate to keep her there, to bring her closer, but he kept silently screaming at himself to go slowly. Slowly. Not to push. She was smiling. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes sparkled, and he could smell her desire for him.

He couldn't afford to startle her or—

"Gar, please, come closer," she whispered, pulling the sides of her shirt apart and letting it drop off her shoulders and down her arms, baring herself to him, her eyes bright on his. "Please."

With the groaning huff of the mating call, Gar slid his hands to the small of her back and took her mouth. Rika smiled into his kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning back so she was arched into him as she tilted her head and deepened the kiss.

Gar shivered at the soft plumpness of her breasts pressed against his chest. Slowly, slowly, he slid one hand up her spine to cradle her to him, while he brought the other around, tracing the line of her ribs, until he found that full warmth and covered it with his palm.

Rika sighed and arched into his grip. It was such an unexpected response, Gar opened his mouth to suck in a breath, his body trembling as he held himself back from simply taking her on the spot. Breath shaking, he pulled back far enough to see her, to watch himself cup her, take the weight of her breast in his hand, and to rub his thumb over the dusky pink peak.

Rika's fingers fisted in his hair and she closed her eyes on a gasp. "Do that again."

So he did, his own desire thrumming in his veins as her hips twitched and she arched harder, pressing herself into his hand.

"Oh, god, Rika…" he groaned.

"Please, Gar," she whispered, rocking against him and whimpering. "I want you so badly."

She opened her mouth on his neck and sucked, sending a bolt of firey hot desire jangling through his veins. Gar groaned again, cupping her ass and pulling her down as he ground into her, watching her face, testing her scent, for any sign of fear or tension. But she responded like a female in love—her body loose, her breath quick and deep, her skin flushed and warm.

As he watched she straightened and pushed him back into the couch. Gar let himself relax, let his head rest on the back of the couch, to watch with startled joy as she grinned at him wickedly and, hair falling over her face, watched her own hands slide down his chest, his stomach, to the waistband of his leathers.

He sucked in and her eyebrows rose. "Poor Gar. You must be so uncomfortable," she giggled breathlessly. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want to scare you," he rasped as she popped the top button on his leathers and desire spiked at the base of his spine.

"I'm not scared of you, Gar," she said, biting her lip and raising her eyes to watch his face as she popped the next button, and the next. "I'm scared of giving myself up and… and then losing you."

Gar made a strangled noise when she made it to the fourth button, then pulled the front of his leathers aside, releasing him.

Her smile didn't fade as she reached for him, then Gar was shuddering, groaning, because she grasped him just right, stroking up and down his length.

"Rika—oh, shit."

She bit her lip and stroked him again as an image bloomed in his mind of taking her mouth, using his tongue to tease that lip out from under the pinch—

"Fuck, Rika, you have to stop or…"

She giggled and the flash of mischief in her eyes was joy—but he knew, he knew if he didn't stop her, she would end this for both of them.

So with a playful growl he sat up, taking her wrists and pulling her hands up, around his neck. Then, taking her mouth in a searing kiss, he stroked his hands up her sides, over her breasts, squeezing and teasing until she gasped and bucked against him.