imal part of him, the part that knew the preservation of the Breeds depended on mating, felt otherwise. She should be safe, behind strong walls, enclosed in a secure environment. She shouldn’t be placing her life in danger, no matter the situation or the reason.
It was typical Breed arrogance and even though he fought it, he feared he would eventually lose the battle.
“Personal preservation was never high on my list of priorities anyway.” She shrugged and he knew she meant it. “You only live once, Cabal. If you hide and bury your head from the world around you, then you aren’t living. You’re existing.”
“You’re an adventure junkie,” he accused her.
She laughed at that. He watched her lips tilt in sudden amusement, saw the laughter that crossed her gaze.
“Is that what you call it? My father used to call it insanity.”
She had lost her family just before meeting Douglas Watts and marrying him. Perhaps that was why the bastard had managed to fool her so easily. He had been no friend of the Breeds, and his coverage of the rescues had always been subtly biased.
“Insanity is a good word for it.” He moved closer. Damn if he could help himself. He wanted to feel the warmth of her, wanted to touch her satiny flesh, taste it. She was naked beneath that robe, for now. If he didn’t move quickly, she would be dressed and gone.
“Cabal.” Her voice was breathless.
It was breathless in passion as well, he remembered. Sweet and husky, drawn from deep within her chest as pleasure stole through her. He wanted to hear it again, her soft little cries, her mews of need and ecstasy.
“I dream of you.” The words were dragged from him. He hadn’t meant to whisper those words, hadn’t meant to reveal that information to her. “I dream of touching you, of licking every inch of your flesh.”
She shivered. Cabal watched the betraying little ripple as it rushed across her body. Wide gray eyes stared up at him, a little bemused, a lot wary. He could see the hungry need in her eyes, in the ripening of her lips, in the flush of her cheeks.
He couldn’t force himself to move from her path, to allow her to walk from the room and into danger. His sweet, sweet mate. Why would he do something so insane when he could have her beneath him, arching into his touch, begging for the completion that only he could bring her?
“Cabal, don’t do this.”
He paused, his lips a breath from hers as he watched the conflicting emotions chase across her face, smelled them in her subtle scent. Anger. A shade of pain and bitterness. And determination. She was determined to do what she had come here to do, and he was deliberately standing in her way.
Mating heat was one thing, but at this moment he was deliberately igniting those fires to keep her here. To keep her safe.
“Letting you go tonight isn’t going to change anything,” he warned her softly. “You can run forever, Cassa, and I’ll be right behind you.”
Her lips trembled, and it was all he could do to keep from catching them beneath his own and loving them with all the hunger he could feel building between her and him.
She was his. God had created her for him, matched her to him. Heart and soul, she had been meant for him.
“I’m a possession,” she whispered painfully. He could feel the pain, smell it on the air around them. “A mate. That’s all, Cabal.”
“My only mate,” he reminded her, his voice harsh. “You should be thankful I haven’t loaded you up in a heli-jet and had you whisked back to Sanctuary.”
“You should be thankful that I didn’t shoot you first.” She was nose to nose with him now, anger overwhelming arousal, pride adding its bittersweet scent.
She wanted to deny him, but her fingers were holding on to his arms, the tips massaging his flesh. She was denying him, even as she held on to him.
“I should show you how good staying here could be,” he whispered.
He wanted to act on it. His tongue wanted to act; the glands beneath it were swollen, hot, the mating hormone begging to be released into the warm depths of her mouth. He could just lick her. Just lick over the lush curves of her lips. It would take no more than that. The mating hormone in the glands of his tongue was eager, ready for release once again.
Cabal clenched his teeth, fought for control. Just a little control. Now was not the time for this. He had his own meeting to attend and arrangements to make to ensure her safety.
But how fucking sweet she was. He knew her now, knew the taste of her and the intoxicating effects it would have on him.
So intoxicating.
A growl rumbled in his chest. One hand lowered, fingers cupping the curve of her rear as he jerked her close, lifted her, ground her against the erection throbbing hard and hot beneath his jeans.
He could have her now, he could take her. All it would take was a single kiss. One hot, desperate caress of his tongue against hers and she would belong to him. She wouldn’t be able to deny him.
“Cabal.” If it was a protest, then it was a weak one.
Her head fell back as his lips moved to her jaw, her neck. He didn’t lick, though he wanted to. He was dying to.
Instead, his lips only parted, his teeth raked over the sensitive flesh as his cock jerked at the sound of her sudden, needy little moan.
Sweet heaven. That was what he needed from her. The sound of her pleasure. Not her protests, not the look of wariness or fear in her eyes. But just this, Cassa’s pleasure.
◆ CHAPTER 10 ◆
She was dying in his arms.
Cassa could feel the waves of heated, intoxicating need rushing through her system; she embraced it even as she fought it. Her nails dug into his forearms as her head fell back helplessly, her senses trained on the intensity of sensation rushing over her neck. The sharp tips of the wickedly long canines raked against her skin and sent spirals of exquisite pleasure racing in their wake once again.
Her toes were actually curling against the carpet as she tried not to lift closer to him, and failed. As his thigh slipped between hers, pressing against the desperate need throbbing between her legs, a moan left her throat. Her hips undulated as she rode the hard muscle; her nails dug into the material of his shirt, and she felt the rush of wild wetness spilling from her sex.
She ached for him. Never had she ached for anything or anyone as she ached for Cabal. Just this fast, just this soon after he had taken her last time, and she hungered for him with the same desperate intensity as before.
Mating heat. That chemical reaction that was racing through the Breed community, tying couples together, refusing to allow them to separate. It was a feral, hungry heat, one that refused to be ignored, one Cassa knew was taking her over, stealing her soul. Cabal had already stolen her heart. Now he was taking anything that might have been left.
“Damn you.” He growled the curse at her ear. “Do you know what you do to me, Cassa? Do you know what this will do to us?”
“One question at a time.” She panted breathlessly as his thigh pressed harder against the robe-covered flesh of her sex. “My multitasking abilities aren’t working today.”
She could have sworn she heard a chuckle at her shoulder as he buried his face against her neck.
“You damned smart-ass,” he accused her.
“You damned Breed.” Her lashes refused to lift, to open as his hands gripped her back, massaged, stroked over the material of her robe.
It shouldn’t feel so good. The feel of his hands stroking up her back, his fingers finding her spine, shouldn’t fill her with this insane, crazy need to bite him again.
His neck was there beneath her lips. He would bite her again if he took her again.
And she could bite him as well. She could bite to her heart’s content, taste his flesh and revel in it now without worrying about the consequences, because the consequences were already here.
Her lashes lifted, pleasure rushing through her like a narcotic as her head lowered and her lips touched the tough, hard flesh of his neck.
The
sound that rumbled from his chest sent a chill of fierce sensation rushing down her spine. Part fear, part pleasure and a whole lot of feminine satisfaction.
No matter the reason—chemical, biological or just plain fate—she would please this Breed as no other woman could. The womanizing, charming and fierce Cabal St. Laurents would never know pleasure like he knew with her, simply because she was his mate.
For a moment, the fear overpowered every other sensation. Because the same held true for her. There would never be any pleasure as fierce as this with anyone else.
“Cabal, we have to stop this.” She spoke the words, but her thighs tightened on his, her hips worked against the hard muscle pressed between them and her juices flowed thick and hot from her vagina.
She had never needed anything as desperately as she needed Cabal. Again. Right now.
“You ache,” he whispered at her ear. “I sense it, Cassa. You need me.”
She needed him now. She had needed him before she had ever known what mating heat was, before she had ever been close enough for the phenomenon to flare between them. She had needed him a second before she had parted her lips and tasted his blood.
Yes, she needed him, but she knew the depth of her need went far beyond the physical. Even as she felt one hand slide from her back to her stomach, she knew she couldn’t have his heart as well.
But that didn’t stop her from whispering his name as she felt the belt of her robe release. And it didn’t keep her from sucking in her stomach as she felt the ends part.
“Just a touch.” He nipped at her ear and sent an explosive flare of ecstasy shooting through her body.
Bare flesh, his fingers calloused and sure as they slid against her lower stomach.
“Cabal, this is crazy. We both have things to do.” Her protest was a thin, pleasure-filled cry as his fingers slid between her thighs, the tips feathering the damp curls that hid the sensitive folds of her sex.
Her hips arched closer, trying to recapture the pressure of his thigh as he drew back. A second later they stilled at the feel of his fingertips pressing into the curls at the top of her mound.
How hot his flesh was. Pleasure intensified and exploded through her system as she felt her clit swelling, felt the folds of her sex becoming drenched in her juices. Her body was so primed for him, so desperate for his touch that it left her helpless in its wake.
“I can smell how sweet and hot you are.” His lips smoothed over her neck, to her shoulder, as he pushed the neckline of her robe aside with his chin. “I can feel it, Cassa.”
His fingers slid lower, sliding past the desperate throb of her clit, stroking around it with the lightest touch before delving into the drenched, slick essence spilling from her pussy.
“We can’t do this right now.” She wanted to cry at the knowledge of what was coming, the ties that would bind them even closer together, and would eventually destroy them both. Each time he touched her, each time he possessed her, she lost more of herself to him.
“We can’t? But, baby, we’re already doing it. Have already done it.”
She went up on her tiptoes as his finger slid lower, curled and thrust wickedly into the tight, desperate entrance that throbbed for his possession. A wailing, desperate sigh fell from her lips. Her head pressed into his shoulder, her hands tightened on his forearms.
Cassa could feel herself shaking, coming apart from the inside out as his finger thrust inside her. Her muscles clamped around the intruder, tightened. The heated wetness increased, making his way slick and hot as his finger pumped slow and easy past the tightening tissue.
“I need to be inside you,” he growled, his jaw pressing against hers now, the feel of his muscles clenching in the side of his face reminding Cassa of the control he was imposing upon himself. “I need to lay you down, Cassa. To touch you. I could spend hours, days, just touching you. Tasting you.”
Oh God. She lost her breath as white-hot need slammed into the muscles surrounding his stroking finger. Her womb clenched and tightened, and if she wasn’t mistaken, she was bare seconds from the most intense orgasm of her life.
“Do you want me, Cassa?” The question was an insidious promise of both pleasure and pain as he whispered the words. “Do you need me?”
She needed him like she needed air to breathe.
A whimper left her throat as his finger pulled back, and when it returned, another made the fit tighter, stretched her, burned her with a pleasure she couldn’t fight.
She had never had a problem fighting against desire, or attraction. Not since she was too young and too stupid to know any better. Not since she had learned the true depths of betrayal that loving a man could bring.
But now, the pleasure was too intense, too deep to ignore or to deny. His fingers fucked inside her with slow, deliberate movements while his thumb circled the swollen bud of her clit and had it throbbing with the need for orgasm.
She was close. So fucking close. If the pressure was just a little firmer, just a little harder.
“Cabal, please.” Her hips jerked against each slow, deliberate thrust. “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never tease you, Cassa.”
She wanted to scream at the next thrust. The feel of his fingers pushing hard and deep inside her, sending a surge of violent pleasure rushing through her system, shocking it, and nearly stilling her heartbeat with the extremity of it.
She should be used to this by now. She should know his touch, be immune to the excitement that was just as fierce, just as hot as the first time he had touched her.
When her breath returned, it was in a rush, a cry as the next thrust sent her to her tiptoes and had her fingernails tightening at his biceps now. Close. So close. She was going to explode. She was going to destroy them both with the response beginning to build inside her.
“Come for me, Cassa.” His voice rumbled at her ear. “Let me feel it, baby. Let me feel you coming for me.”
She cried his name, tightened. She could feel the fragile threads of ecstasy closing in around her clit. Felt the need coalescing within her.
As his fingers plunged inside her once more, filled her, stretched her, the need began to expand, began to beat in a hard, rapid demand through her bloodstream. It was inside her, around her, amassing through her.
“Ms. Hawkins, it’s Sheriff Lacey.” The voice was an intrusion, a hated, horrible sound as she felt Cabal still. “Ms. Hawkins, are you there?”
She wasn’t here. She couldn’t answer. The breath was trapped in her throat as surely as Cabal’s fingers were trapped inside her sex.
A growl, harsh and dangerous, rumbled in his throat.
“Ms. Hawkins, open the door or I’m going to have it opened.” Sheriff Lacey’s voice firmed, became cold and warning. “Are you all right, Ms. Hawkins?”
The sheriff would have checked to be certain she had come back to her room. The receptionist at the front desk knew she was there.
Cassa shook her head.
“Answer her,” Cabal demanded.
A whimper left her throat.
“Now, Cassa.” His fingers slid free of her, and she wanted to scream in rage at the sheriff.
“Just a minute.” Her voice was hoarse, filled with the agony of a release slipping slowly out of her grasp.
“Is everything okay, Ms. Hawkins?” Sheriff Lacey’s voice became more demanding.
“Fine. Fine,” she snapped. “Just a minute.”
She was weak, too off balance even to realize that Cabal was fixing her robe until he had already completed the job.
His expression was tight with lust, his eyes greener, the amber flecks in them more brilliant as he stared down at her.
“We’re insane to have let this start,” he stated harshly.
She could have cried. She wanted to cry. There was nothing like the regret when a man she was tied to forever stated his own regret that they were tied. Oh yeah, this little relationship was going to be tons of fun.
“Your hand was in my ro
be,” she reminded him, her voice tart. “Not the other way around. I remember telling you I had things to do this evening.” She would have preferred Cabal not know about this meeting though.
Her body was still singing, the need for release still tearing through her, as Sheriff Lacey knocked on the door once again.
Wiping her hands down her thighs, Cassa drew in a hard breath before pulling her control around her and moving to the door.
She looked back at Cabal, wishing she could still her response to him as easily as he seemed to be stilling his to her. She would have taken more time to get herself under control, to stop her hands from shaking, if the sheriff hadn’t pounded on the door again.
Clenching her teeth, she gripped the doorknob and pulled the door open, stepping back and facing the sheriff as the other woman’s gaze sliced into the room and settled on Cabal.
For a moment, Cassa felt the tension and the certainty that the sheriff and Cabal knew each other more than either of them would want her to realize. It was in the tension that tightened in the other woman’s shoulders, and the suspicion that filled her hazel eyes.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” The sheriff’s tone was wry, her smile friendly, though the knowledge that she had indeed interrupted something was clear in her gaze.
“Not at all,” Cassa assured her. “Please come in, and thank you for taking time to see me again.”
“When I received the message that there was possible Breed violence in the county, I admit, I rushed right over. You didn’t mention that earlier today.”
Great. Cassa glanced at Cabal and watched his eyes narrow.
“Is Mr. St. Laurents involved?” Slender, tall, the sheriff hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans as her gaze raked over Cabal. “I always did think he was a rather suspicious character.”
There was an edge of laughter in the sheriff’s voice, and one of familiarity. She wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she knew Cabal, but there was no sense that she knew him too well. Cassa tried to still the jealousy rising within her, both surprised and horrified as she recognized the emotion.
She didn’t do jealousy. She did not, she would not, become jealous of a man. There was no quicker way to self-destruct than to give in to that emotion. And Cassa refused to ever self-destruct again.
“Mr. St. Laurents, I’m certain, is most likely involved somehow.” Cassa felt the tightness of her smile as well as the certainty that Cabal had come here tonight for no other reason than to influence her against the investigation she had come to Glen Ferris for.
Danna Lacey stepped into the room, her gaze going between Cassa and Cabal as a dark brow lifted curiously.
Dressed in jeans, an official shirt and boots, Sherrif Lacey looked the quintessential country girl. Her shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a sleek braid that fit well beneath her official sheriff’s hat and showed off her high cheekbones perfectly.
Green eyes twinkled merrily, but they held a hint of cyni cism. She was amused though well acquainted with dealing with Breeds and very well aware of their deceptions.
She should be. Danna Lacey’s department had been one of the first to sign on to cooperate with Breed Law in its efforts to incorporate Breeds into the law enforcement communities and to enforce the new laws governing violence against Breeds.
“So, what’s the problem?” Sheriff Lacey looked between the two of them. “Usually the Bureau of Breed Affairs contacts me if any violence has occurred involving Breeds. Not reporters. And you didn’t mention any of this earlier, Ms. Hawkins.”
“Ms. Hawkins is merely concerned, I believe,” Cabal drawled. “We’ve been conducting training exercises in the national forest and she came upon one of them the other night.”
Oh, that was a good one.
“Not quite,” Cassa objected. “The last I heard, Coyotes in the employ of John Bollen don’t exactly cooperate with the Bureau or Sanctuary.”
John Bollen, formerly second-in-command under General Tallant, a once high official with the Genetics Council, had taken over after Tallant’s death. The Tallant organization, now called Bollen Enterprises, supplied security guards, personal protection and other services where muscle and weapons were required. It had, under General Tallant’s ownership, also supplied subversive teams to strike against Breeds.
What it did now, where Breeds were concerned, was anyone’s guess. Bollen kept his business quiet, but the general consensus was that the Breeds were now in more danger from Bollen than they ever had been when the organization was under Tallant’s leadership.
“Bollen’s Coyotes are in the national forest?” Sheriff Lacey directed her question to Cabal. “During Breed training exercises?”
Cabal directed a chiding look to Cassa before turning back to Lacey.
“Come on, Danna, you know how it works. We spy on them, they spy on us. No one was armed, no one was hurt.”
Sheriff Lacey grimaced at the comment before directing her attention back to Cassa. “Then where does the violence come in?”
Cassa knew immediately that the sheriff, though sympathetic and likely prone to disagree with or outright disbelieve Cabal, wasn’t about to involve herself in investigating something Cabal was so clearly warning her away from.
“I was ambushed in the forest,” Cassa stated, hiding her anger now. “I thought you should be aware that Coyote soldiers are roaming the area and I did feel threatened. Had Mr. St. Laurents not been in the area, then the three soldiers I faced could have become dangerous.”
Lacey’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know who they are?”
“Only one.” Cassa shrugged.
“It was Dog and his two lieutenants, Butch and Mongrel.” Cabal spoke up with a cold smile.
Sheriff Lacey shook her head at the information, her expression becoming sober as she gave a sharp nod. “I’ll alert the forest rangers to be on watch for them,” she promised. “As well as the local police and my deputies. We can’t throw their asses out of the area, but we can keep an eye on them.” She looked back at Cassa. “How much longer will you be here?”
Cassa crossed her arms over her breasts, aware that the sheriff was probably hoping her stay would be brief.
“I’m not certain,” she stated. “Should it matter?”
The sheriff grimaced. “You’re like gas poured on a Breed fire,” she said. “You could be the reason the Coyote soldiers are here, Ms. Hawkins, as you’re well aware. The few times Dog has shown up in your reports, you’ve not exactly been tactful in re