The sensations felt never ending, spearing through her, exploding in her clit, her pu**y, across her nerves, and finally hitting her brain with a surge of the pure fiery waves of pleasure.
A hard, desperate throb in his shaft echoed through her flesh, as though his c**k were pulsing, threatening to swell harder, wider insider her. The pleasure of that additional pulse against the sensitive walls of her pu**y became almost overwhelming.
It was a good thing breathing was natural, because anything that took thought was impossible. Anything but riding the waves of rapture wasn't happening.
And when it was over, she collapsed beneath him, snuggled against his heat, and let another need have her.
Exhaustion.
Satiation.
Warmth.
She just wanted to sleep in his arms now.
"Ahh, lass," he whispered as his lips touched her shoulder, his voice filled with regret. "My sweet Storme. If only the world were different ..."
CHAPTER 3
She was caught.
Storme sat in the sitting room glaring at Styx as Breeds filled the room. The contents of her duffel bag were spread out on the table, every item in it thoroughly examined by the Breeds that had arrived after she dressed.
Styx stood to the side of the room, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her with an inquisitive expression. As though he were trying to figure out a particular problem.
Lips thinned, anger burning inside her, she stared back at him.
He had played her. Him, Navarro, Rule, Lawe, and Jonas Wyatt.
She turned her gaze to Wyatt.
She'd never seen him dressed as he was now, all in black, weapons strapped to his thigh, his eerie silver eyes so hard, so cold they were deadly. Of all the Breeds Storme had fought to avoid over the years, the director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs was almost at the top of her list. He was damned scary.
Perhaps Styx was scarier though. He'd managed to get beneath her defenses, to play the perfect game without once arousing her suspicions. And she could be a damned suspicious person.
Hands clasped tight in her lap, she tried to think, to force her brain past the exhaustion and fear to find a way to escape. There had to be a way to escape; she had always found one before.
Admittedly, she hadn't allowed herself to be in this position before though. In the ten years she had been running, since she was a young, tender, fourteen, never had she allowed herself to be surrounded by Breeds.
Now here she was, no weapons, no way out, and she was surrounded.
"I want the data chip."
She flinched at the sound of Wyatt's voice. It was razor sharp, cutting, and merciless.
"People in hell want ice water too," she sneered back at him. "You're going to get about as lucky as they are in your wants."
"You don't want to f**k with me over this, Ms. Montague." The latent violence in his tone had the hairs at the back of her neck rising.
"I'll tell you what I've told you for the past ten years, I don't have your data chip."
Two factions chased her. The Bureau Breeds and the Council Breeds, and to look at them, it was impossible to tell which was which.
Jonas contacted her often through the old email account of her father's that she checked regularly. It was always the same. When she was ready to give him what he wanted, then he could protect her.
Her answer was always the same. She didn't have what he wanted.
It seemed he was tired of playing nice.
"Ms. Montague, the time for lies is over." The growl in his voice was frankly terrifying.
As he stepped toward her, Styx moved as well. His action surprised her. It appeared as if he was placing himself in line to protect her against what might well be the most powerful Breed in the world at the moment.
Jonas's gaze flashed to the Wolf Breed. "She's not yours," he bit out, his tone icy.
"Doesn't matter," Styx growled back. "I pulled her in, I'm responsible for her."
A mocking smile curled her lips. He had fooled her once; she wouldn't allow him to fool her again. No doubt this fake protection was no more than another game to draw her in.
Jonas glanced back at her. "She doesn't appear to want your protection, Styx."
Storme sat up straighter. "By all means, Styx, protect me." Mocking and sweet, Storme kept her tone even, hoping to hide the fear rising inside her.
His gaze flashed back to her, irate and glittering with a warning.
"She knows what she has, Styx," Jonas growled back as he stared back at Storme.
"She knows, and she's holding on to it for a reason."
Because she had sworn she would hold on to it. Because it was the only thing her father had ever asked her to do. To protect that information.
"I'm not holding anything ..."
"Breeds can smell a f**king lie," Jonas snarled back. "And you, Ms. Montague, are lying. Tell me what the f**k you want for it and we can conclude this piece of business before the night is over."
She had always known she couldn't lie to their faces. She was too aware of what she was holding, too aware of the fact that their sense of smell would betray her.
There was no doubt Jonas Wyatt was enraged at this moment as well. It was there in every controlled inch of his body, in the glitter of his silver eyes.
"Storme, this has gone beyond whatever you believe you're protecting that information for," Styx stated quietly. "We can protect you, but we have to have the data chip."
"So you f**ked me for it?" she sneered with a harsh laugh. "Tell me, Styx, are you one of those Breeds that were trained to be gigolos for the Council?"