"We don't want to do this." She was going to hate both of them come morning.
"Sugar, we want to do this more than we want tae breathe."
She was in his arms, cradled against his chest, feeling more feminine, weaker, more sensual than she had ever felt in her life as he turned and carried her to the bedroom and the large bed waiting in the center of it.
As her back met the incredibly soft comforter, she felt her boots being pulled from her feet and, a second later, her jeans sliding from her legs.
Her panties were no barrier, and the sound of her blouse tearing was only a distant thought as he rose over her, his lips covering hers with a growl of pure pleasure.
His tongue pressed inside her lips, taking them as his fingers slid between her thighs and parted the swollen, slick folds of her sex.
Her hips arched. Agonizing pleasure ripped through her vagina, clenching it tight around the wicked finger that slid slowly inside. And stroked. Caressed without thrusting, rubbing against nerve endings so sensitive she cried out in brutal need.
Clenching her hands in the heavy strands of hair that fell over his face, Storme held him to her, desperate for more of the mindless, incredible pleasure building between her thighs.
She could feel the need whipping through her, that aching, intense lust, as it only grew between them.
This one night.
Tonight she would be a woman with a man she knew couldn't suffer for it when morning came. Coyotes wouldn't kill this man, and if the Breeds from Haven or Sanctuary learned of this night, then there was nothing he could say, no way he could know where she'd gone once she slipped from his arms.
"Yes!" The word tore from her lips as he pressed another finger inside her, opening her, stretching her as her hips writhed against him, driving him deeper.
"There, love," he groaned, his fingers driving inside her as his lips nipped at her neck, licked and sent flames coursing through her bloodstream. "You're so tight. So sweet you make a mon forget his control."
"Good, you stripped mine." Arching, neck tilting as his lips moved to lick at the area where it curved into her shoulder, Storme gave herself to the night, and the touch of this man.
He was a man. She refused to think of the extra genetics he held. God, she just wanted one night, one night of pleasure rather than fear. She just wanted to be warm for a little while before she had to run again.
As he nipped at her shoulder, her hands moved to his shirt, pulling, tugging until buttons tore and slipped free, allowing her to push the material over his shoulders.
She wanted to feel him against her. All that hard, hot flesh, muscles rippling, the strength of him honed and sculpted for pleasure or for pain.
Tonight, she would have pleasure. He didn't know who she was. He had no idea the gift he was giving her, the sheer warmth she had ached so desperately for.
"Sugar, you taste like heaven," he groaned as he shed his shirt, his fingers slipping from inside her as he rose to his knees to discard the material.
Storme rose to meet him, sitting up in the bed, her hands going to the leather of his pants and tugging at the heavy buttons that held the material tight along the length of his cock.
She knew Breed physiology. She knew the length and breadth of a male Wolf Breed's shaft. She'd seen it, as a young girl in the labs. Like animals, the Breeds hadn't been allowed clothing in the labs.
As she released him, she realized that she hadn't understood or considered the sensual aspects of that endowment then. As the heavy, thick flesh speared out from his body, she felt her pu**y heat further, felt her juices flow between her thighs.
"Sugar, not yet." His fingers curled over her wrist as she lifted her gaze to him.
"Tonight's my night," she whispered back to him, feeling that determination as she allowed her fingers to grip the heated, iron-hard shaft.
Heated, throbbing and so hard. Her thumb smoothed over the tip of the head, easing away the light dampness that had gathered there.
"I shouldn't want this." Her throat tightened in sudden fear, the realization spearing through her that she might never forget this night.
"Why shouldn't you want this?" His fingers lifted to smooth back her hair as it fell over her cheek. "Why should ye not have all the pleasure I can give, love? And I know pleasure as you can never imagine."
Of course he did. Breeds were trained not just in giving pain, but also in giving pleasure.
"And what pleasure can I give you?" Compared to Styx, Storme knew she was as innocent as a virgin.
Her hand stroked down the length of his cock, feeling it jerk in her grip as his expression tightened and pleasure flashed in those bright blue eyes.
"Lass, you'll destroy me with pleasure at this rate," he assured her, his voice deeper, rougher as sensual enticement gleamed in his eyes.
The knowledge of seeing her effect on him did something to her. He wasn't lying, he couldn't be lying. She could see the truth of it in his eyes. She was giving him pleasure; he wanted her, ached as she ached, needed as she needed.
Moving forward, her tongue licked over the wide head, tasting man and heat, feeling it intoxicate her as her lips parted and sucked him inside.
This wasn't her, she assured herself as she felt the last restraint loosen inside her.
This was the woman she might have been, the woman that perhaps she could have been if she hadn't spent the past ten years fighting to survive, to hide from the horrors chasing her.
This was the woman she had dreamed of being. In Styx's arms she had no fears of being disturbed, no fears of being surprised as the pleasure rose inside her.