Breeds: Stygian's Honour Part 43

Reaching back and gathering her hair, she wound the long strands into a loose braid be- fore securing it with the elastic band around her wrist.

"What if I don't know the secrets I'm keep- ing?" She surprised him with the answer.

"Then I'd say you're hiding from them," he answered, ignoring the flash of disagreement in her gaze, the hint of anger that darkened the soft gray color.

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She didn't argue; instead, she moved.

The small, delicate-looking fist suddenly delivered a blow, not to the muscle-packed abdomen, but instead to the vulnerable area below, between his navel and the band of his jeans, only a breath from the engorged head of his c.o.c.k.

The blow stole his breath an instant before he moved for her. Swinging away, he nearly had her before she suddenly dropped, rolled and came up behind him.

Before he could a.s.similate the surprise, her little foot landed in the back of his knee, stealing his balance and nearly taking him to the mat before he caught himself in a crouch.

The crouch and roll she executed before coming up behind him wasn't a typical re- sponse to the threat of being held from be- hind, even for their female enforcers. For her height and lack of physical strength, it worked perfectly. It also gave her the 618/862.

opening to come at him again before he could respond with a countermove.

Within two breaths, he was placed on the defensive by the very fact that, with nimble grace, she managed to elude his grasp and stay just out of reach.

And he wasn't playing with her.

Stygian had every intention of getting his hands on her and stripping her, first of that little top she wore. The one that tightened around her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and clearly showed the hard, pointed nipples beneath what ap- peared to be the lace of her bra.

The moves she was using weren't those she would have been trained for by the Coyote females. They were Breed male moves with the addition of a graceful feminine twist, an unexpected arch, kick or jab. And if she ab- solutely had to, a low, swift crouch and roll that placed her just out of reach.

He was impressed.

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He was even more impressed, not to say highly suspicious of the fact that she used them so well. So well that he was beginning to suspect that it wasn't Ashley and Emma who had been training her. A male Breed had somehow been training her so secretively that he hadn't heard about it.

And he wouldn't have thought that were possible.

Remaining alert, keeping his eyes on her, Stygian arched his brow mockingly as she circled him, looking for an opening to bury that pretty little fist in some vulnerable area, no doubt.

When he saw his opening, he moved.

Ducking nearly to a crouch as she moved for him, Stygian managed to twist and come up behind her, both arms wrapping around her, trapping hers and shackling them to her side.

She didn't attempt to move her arms. Her first, natural reaction would have been to 620/862.

struggle with her upper body. At least, that was what it should have been.

Instead, in another surprising move, she lifted both legs. The heel of one slammed in- to his knee, taking him to the mat.

Most men, warriors, soldiers, would have lost their hold. Stygian was really rather proud of the fact that he kept hold of her.

Intense satisfaction then filled him as he managed to wrestle her to the mat beneath him, his body holding hers trapped securely between him and the mat.

"Who's been training you?" he snarled as he gave her ear an erotic little nip. "Tell me, mate, who have you been playing with?"

Not that it really mattered, Stygian thought as he rolled his hips against the gentle curve of her rear and allowed her to feel the hardened erection beneath his jeans.

It didn't matter, because from now on, she would only be playing with him. He would be 621/862.

her only sparring partner. Only he would be training her to do any d.a.m.ned thing.

Liza could feel her juices spilling from her p.u.s.s.y, dampening the folds beyond as well as her panties as Stygian forced a hard thigh between her legs, forcing them open, then spreading them further to allow his hips to wedge into the cradle he created.

"Answer me, mate," he rasped as his in- cisors raked along the nape of her neck.

"What Breed male has dared to train you so effectively?"

She forced a laugh past her lips-she had to force it, because all she wanted to do was moan and beg him to f.u.c.k her.

"What, us puny little humans aren't al- lowed to use any of your Breed moves?" She knew better, but pus.h.i.+ng him was the agenda.

Pus.h.i.+ng him to lose control.

Pus.h.i.+ng him to f.u.c.k her.

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Pus.h.i.+ng him to force her control from her and to allow her just a few moments of peace from the thoughts and fears that kept swirl- ing through her mind.

"No Breed males have trained me for any- thing." She kept the mockery thick in her voice.

He could detect a lie in her voice, and she had to be careful here.

No Breed males had been training her; in- stead, the Coyote females Ashley, Emma and s.h.i.+loh, and occasionally the Jaguar Breeds Chimera and s.h.i.+loh, and several Wolf Breed females. The other training she had was from the men that were part of the team she'd been a.s.signed to with the underground network.

Did the big tough male Breeds think their smaller counterparts didn't have the ability to train anyone?

"Who has been training you then?" he growled in amus.e.m.e.nt as she felt his c.o.c.k 623/862.

pressing into the vee of her thighs, pus.h.i.+ng against the entrance of her s.e.x through their layers of clothes.

She wanted the clothes from between them.

She wanted him.

Wanted him hard and deep and-oh G.o.d-taking her with the force and hunger that sent her careening into maddening release.

"Who said anyone was training me?" Clos- ing her eyes, her nails curling into the mat where he held her wrists secure, Liza let the sensations, the excitement and intense sen- suality wash over her.

"From now on, you want to learn to fight, you can come to me." His head lowered, his teeth raking the side of her neck.

"Come to you to learn to fight?" She fought to breathe, to fight back her tears as emotion threatened to flood her senses as well.

"Really, Stygian, I've seen Breeds with their 624/862.

women. They're not allowed to fight." She smiled with a sensual, tempting curve of her lips. "They only get to f.u.c.k."

"Really?" he murmured at her ear, his d.i.c.k jerking in excitement at the carnality in her voice. "Coyote females fight. Ashley and Emma are two of our best warriors."

"Breed females," she argued breathlessly.

"Human mates aren't given the same options."

"Says who?" His tongue swiped over a par- ticularly nerveridden area where he'd bitten her two nights before.

Pleasure sang through her body with a suddenness that left her gasping and had more of her slickening juices spilling from her p.u.s.s.y.

"Diane Broen and every argument she and Lawe are rumored to have had." She was barely whispering as one of his hands pushed beneath her camisole.

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"But Lion Breeds are a.s.sholes," he growled, his voice thick with s.e.xual hunger.

"What?" Liza could barely make out what he was saying as his fingers released the front catch of her bra and cupped the swollen weight of one breast.

"I said, Lion Breeds are a.s.sholes," he re- peated, the dark, l.u.s.t-sharpened sound of his voice stroking her senses as his thumb stroked over the exquisitely hard peak of her nipple.

"Breeds are a.s.sholes." Her fingers dug into the mat again as his other hand-fingers long and powerful-began pus.h.i.+ng beneath the low-riding band of her cotton pants.

It was all she could do to breathe.

h.e.l.l, she didn't give a d.a.m.n if she was breathing or not, as long as he kept touching her.

His touch was like living l.u.s.t. Hot and mesmerizing, it stole reason, leaving her helpless beneath him.

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The air around them was thick and heavy with erotic heat.

His hard body above her was such a stimu- lant, so powerful and aroused she felt lost in the sensation of his weight against her.

"Wolf Breeds aren't a.s.sholes, though," he promised as the tips of his fingers brushed against the curls at the top of her p.u.s.s.y.

Liza felt the involuntary clench of her thighs, her v.a.g.i.n.a, the lush slide of her juices spilling from her body.

His fingers fluffed the curls that sheltered the top of her mound. Only there had she left that soft covering. Below it, the swollen folds were carefully waxed, overly sensitive, and heated, aching for his touch, for more than the firm pressure of his c.o.c.k and their cloth- ing between it and her.

His teeth raked against her neck once again, the pleasure singeing through every cell of her body.

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The feel of his incisors rasping over her sent a rush of electrified sensation tearing across her nerve endings, heating her, burn- ing through her mind.

A hard shudder of pleasure raced through her as arousal jumped to a hard, l.u.s.t-driven punch of hunger to her womb.

Liza fought to ride the wave of muscle- shuddering sensual tension suddenly flood- ing her senses.

To make it last.

To make it crest to the o.r.g.a.s.m that seemed so close, yet remained just out of reach.

The eroticism of having him cover her from behind, the heated length of his body holding her to the mat, his hands shackling her wrists, had her arching her rear, pressing the ridge of his c.o.c.k tighter against her p.u.s.s.y as her thighs spread further.

She swore she was going to come from pure excitement. The extreme dominance and s.e.xual awareness was a flood of 628/862.

knowledge so intense it was almost a physic- al caress.

Ecstatic pleasure flooded her body.

It tore through her.

It raced across her nerve endings, tighten- ing her c.l.i.t and her p.u.s.s.y to painful awareness.

She shouldn't feel like this.

No matter the rumors she'd heard of mat- ing heat. No matter what her own instincts were telling her.

She shouldn't be feeling this.

This wasn't just s.e.xual. It wasn't just pleasure. It wasn't just a need to be f.u.c.ked into pure exhaustion, and G.o.d knew, that need was uppermost in her mind. It was quickly reaching a critical point and wiping her mind of any other instinct.

It was so much more than an intense need for release.

More than a need to be filled.

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It exceeded the need to feel flesh against flesh, his c.o.c.k buried inside her, or the det- onation of an o.r.g.a.s.m she knew would leave her flying into pure rapture.

It was more than she had ever imagined she could have because mixed with the ex- treme sensations and wave upon wave of pleasure was the instinctive knowledge that it was also a need born of emotion.

Burning in the very depths of her soul was the knowledge that the heart she'd managed to keep locked against all pain had been breached.

Stygian had somehow found a way to sneak in and take it over.

He filled it, possessed it. He controlled it effortlessly and she had no idea how he had managed to do it.

Fighting to make sense of it, to pull herself back from the never-ending rush of sensa- tions to repair the breach, she was shocked 630/862.

at the sudden feel and sound of rending cloth.