He groaned, suspended between torment and ecstasy as she tightened her arms around his neck and her kiss took on a more fevered urgency. Their tongues tangled, fangs clashing as Carys pressed herself against him.
The leather shorts he wore from the halted fight barely held his raging arousal. His sex was hard as stone and starving to get loose. To get inside the temptress who was swiftly stoking him toward madness with her hot little mouth and merciless curves.
He slid one thigh between hers and ground against her, growling at the pleasurable friction of his shaft riding her hip as her tongue thrust in and out of his mouth.
It took all he had to keep a leash on his Breed instincts. It would be so easy to give in to the primal urge to take her plump lower lip between his teeth and bite down, hard enough to draw blood. It would be the act of an instant to break away from her mouth and sink his fangs into the soft flesh of her throat.
So goddamn tempting . . .
She had no idea how often he fought those urges with her.
Nor could she know. Because if she did, his beautiful, headstrong rebel would make certain he gave in to them.
Her mouth still joined with his, she dropped her hands to his bare shoulders and chest. Her fingers skated over his skin, tracing the swirls and flourishes of his glyphs as if she knew their patterns by heart.
No doubt, she did. Of her two Breed gifts, it was her photographic memory that was her most powerful where he was concerned. She knew exactly how to touch him, precisely how to bring him to the edge of oblivion.
When she reached down beneath the loose ties of his shorts to grasp his sex, Rune sucked in a tormented moan. His blood raced through his veins, most of it already heading south to meet the demand of his engorged shaft.
Carys palmed the blunt head of him, slicking her fingertips with the wetness that beaded there. Her caress glided along his length, a sure and steady motion that built swiftly toward an unbearable ache. She showed him no mercy, her touch leaving him taut as a bowstring and panting with need.
Rune still held his fighting gloves and steel torc in one hand. With each sure stroke of her fingers over his stiff cock, his fist tightened, driving the titanium spikes deeper into his palm. He barely felt the pain for all the pleasure of her touch.
And he needed to touch her too.
But not here.
The fighting pit was for pain and destruction, not anything he shared with her, no matter how hungry he was to take her beneath him regardless of where they were. But not in the cage.
He would never let that brutal part of his life brush too closely against what he had with Carys.
He pulled away from her kiss on a harsh curse.
Her touch stilled, confusion dimming the bright embers of her transformed eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have words, only need.
Taking her hand from his chest, he laced their fingers together and led her out of the cage.
CHAPTER 11
He brought her through the vacant corridors of the arena to his private quarters, tossing aside his gloves and torc as soon as he entered his chamber with her. Carys sighed as his hands found her face and held her steady for his kiss.
Breathless, weightless on her feet, she melted into his touch, into his fevered claiming of her mouth. He stopped only long enough to bring her with him into his bedroom, saying nothing, even as he pulled her into his arms with another searing kiss.
He hadn’t answered her back in the cage. She knew part of his brooding silence could be blamed on need. She felt it too—the flashfire heat that ignited between them whenever they came together.
But something was troubling him. Had been, even before his abrupt exit with her from the arena. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t noticed.
When their kiss finally broke, she rested her forehead against his and stared into his smoldering eyes. “What happened, Rune? Because if I did something, or said something that bothered you—”
He scowled and reached up to caress her cheek. “You’re doing everything right. All you have to do is look at me now to see that.”
It sounded like a line, something he’d never fed her before. But his eyes were blazing with desire. His fangs were enormous, filling his mouth as he spoke. Need had turned his deep voice to gravel.
Whatever shadows she had thought she’d seen in his eyes out in the arena were gone now, burned away by the twin glowing embers that locked on her now.
“But back there, in the cage . . .”
He drew her close, his large hands framing her face. “This is where I want you right now, Carys. In my arms. In my bed.” He bent his head and let his lips brush against her ear. “I want you on my tongue. On my cock.”
The words cleaved into her senses, conjuring mental images of the two of them naked and sweating and wild for each other. Whether he had planned to distract her like that, she didn’t know, but it was damn hard to hold on to doubts and misgivings when Rune was whispering wicked promises in her ear.
“The club is empty, just you and me now,” he murmured, his hands moving down to her shoulders, then around to grasp her backside. “So tonight, I plan to take my time.”
As if to prove his point, he dragged her into a slow, bone-melting kiss. Her pulse kicked into a faster beat. Her blood raced¸ sending rivers of fire through her veins.
He drew back, and her gaze fell to the bulge of his erection where it pushed against his leather shorts. She knew well enough that Rune’s cock was as impressive as the rest of him, but the thick outline of his shaft made her mouth water and her fangs erupt further out of her gums.
“Christ, the way you look at me,” he rasped. “Those eyes could ash a man in seconds.”