Rule Breaker

CHAPTER 20

The two days she’d spent running from Rule and his Breeds had been exhausting. So exhausting that fighting him once he found her would have been impossible. At least, that was the excuse she used that afternoon after coming awake, wrapped tight in his arms.

Not just his arms. One muscular leg was thrown over hers, anchoring her to the bed. Behind her, the stiff, thick length of his cock pressed against her lower back, reminding her why she was there.

He hadn’t wanted her until by some stroke of ill luck, nature had decided to use some freaky hormone to bind her to him. Now, he decided he wanted her? Wanted her so much that he had her locked to him like a well-loved wife?

She so didn’t think so.

“Let me go.” She pushed at the arm lying over her, the anger of the past two days rising inside her even as the arousal began a hard, heated simmer between her thighs.

Dammit, she hadn’t even had a shower yet. After he’d taken her, after that “something” had locked inside her and sent her spiraling into a complete rapturous meltdown, she hadn’t even had the energy to keep her eyes open, let alone drag her ass out of the bed to shower.

Damn him.

“Dammit, let me the fuck go.” She rammed her elbow into his side with enough force to bring him instantly awake.

“What?” the grouch grumbled, his arm tightening around her.

“Get your damned leg off me, Rule,” she snapped, infuriated. “I have to get out of this bed now.”

“Why?” He snuggled sleepily against her back, which only pissed her off further.

“I don’t need a damned body cuff,” she informed him furiously as she struggled against him. “Now let me the hell go so I can go to the bathroom.”

A grumbling little growl vibrated in his throat, but thankfully, he released her, albeit slowly.

“Hurry,” he mumbled, burying his head in her pillow as she glanced back at him.

Irritation surged inside her. He had just completely fucked up her entire life and all he wanted to do was sleep?

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that, asshole,” she muttered with a silent snort before heading quickly to the bathroom.

She could smell him all over her. That man-and-midnight-storm scent with a hint of peppermint and chocolate. Hell, she was starting to crave chocolate because of him.

She really needed to convince herself she hated him. That was what she needed to do. Maybe then that mating hormone stuff would just go away and leave her alone. Because right now, it was making its presence known by sensitizing her clit and the inner muscles of her sex in a way that was highly distracting.

She had things to do today. She didn’t have time to lie around in bed with a crazy Breed.

He had to be crazed. What other explanation could there be for him jumping away from her as though she were diseased two nights before, then spending two days canvassing the Navajo Nation in his search for her.

Crazy-ass, that was what he was.

And those eyes.

As she flipped on the shower and adjusted the temperature, a shiver raced through her at the memory of his eyes. The whites hadn’t existed. His entire eye had turned blue with the exception of the black, center pupil. Like a lion. Like a predator.

It was damned sexy . . . no, it wasn’t sexy, it was damned freaky, she amended furiously.

Collecting the items needed for her shower, she stepped beneath the stinging spray, lowered her head and let the water beat down on her.

She wanted to cry now. She hadn’t cried in nine years, and she wasn’t going to start now because it sure as hell wouldn’t help. It didn’t solve anything. It would just make her head hurt. And the last thing she needed was another headache. The man lying in the bed in the other room was enough headache for any woman.

Washing her hair quickly before conditioning the long mass of dark brown strands, Gypsy tried to keep her mind off the ache her body was turning into, and on the rest of the day instead.

It was late afternoon.

She had a meeting scheduled with her parents at their home office regarding that stupid contract they were signing with the Bureau of Breed Affairs. Jonas had announced that the new office would be opening but had held back the news that an assistant director and several liaisons had already been appointed.

That announcement was supposed to come after the initial phase of introducing Rule, Malachi and Stygian to the business community in the tri-county area had been accomplished.

Her mother already had a schedule outlined that was guaranteed to strip Gypsy of the last of her patience where Rule was concerned.

Rinsing the suds from her body as she turned beneath the spray, she was somehow not surprised to come to a hard stop as her shoulder hit the immovable obstacle that stepped into the shower with her.

“Showering without me?” Rich, normal blue eyes stared down at her as steamy water sluiced over the hard-muscled, darkly tanned flesh of his body.

God, he was almost a work of art.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body. The power beneath the tough flesh was obvious, just as the intelligence that gleamed in his eyes couldn’t be missed.

“I would love to.” Her smile was tight and she knew it.

She didn’t want a confrontation while she was naked, but that gleam in his eyes assured her that he didn’t mind at all.

Rivulets of water curled around his neck, running in narrow streams down his body as her gaze tracked them. They curled over and around the heavy width of his erection before falling down his powerful legs.

Not that she bothered to follow the path along his legs. Her gaze stopped on the heavily veined shaft spearing out from his body. The heavy throb of blood beneath the flesh matched the pulse evident in the flared crest that pointed demandingly toward her.

His cock screamed intent. Throbbing beneath her gaze, clenching as she licked her lips nervously, it was a temptation she really needed to refuse.

She might play the seductress, but as Rule knew, until two nights before, she’d never been with a man. She hadn’t gone parking, she hadn’t almost had sex, she hadn’t been a false virgin with the experience to please a man to any point.

But God help her, all she wanted to do was fill her mouth with the fierce throb of the stiffly engorged, flared crest of his cock. She wanted to lick it. Suck it. She wanted to feel it throbbing like that on her tongue just before he began fucking her mouth because he wanted her so bad he couldn’t control the urge to do so.

She’d dreamed of that more than once since seeing him for the first time.

A moan whispered through the air around her as she felt his thumb and the side of his finger grip her nipple, tugging at it, tightening on the nubbin of flesh with a firm strength that sent shards of sensation racing straight to her pussy.

What the hell was she doing?

Licking her lips again, she obeyed the need that had her lowering herself to her knees, losing the pleasure attacking her nipple for a pleasure she couldn’t deny herself.

Leaning forward, lips parting, she felt one hand lock in the hair at the back of her head, and her lashes fluttered with the sharp sensation of his fingers clenching the strands as he tugged at them.

Her tongue met the engorged crest first, curled around it, licking it as her lips followed, drawing him inside the hungry depths of her mouth.

Okay, she’d read books.

She’d seen it on some of the late-night, hard-core movies she’d watched over the years. She knew the basics. And Rule seemed to be appreciating those basics immensely.

“Ah fuck,” he groaned above her as she gripped the base of the shaft firmly and began moving her mouth and tongue over the sensitive head. “Gypsy, sweetheart. That’s it. Fuck. That’s it, baby, suck me deep just like that.”

Just like that. As deep as she could take him as she worked her fingers over the hard shaft, feeling the blood pound in the thick veins beneath the iron-hard flesh.

The hunger assailing her wasn’t as unfamiliar as she wanted to convince herself it was, though. Over the years, her body had reminded her often that she was a woman rather than just a tool for vengeance.

The ache in her pussy and swollen clit was amplified, but many nights she had spent in her lonely bed masturbating, to the point of tears because the release she needed wasn’t there.

Yes, she too had been a false virgin, no matter how her anger wanted to pretend otherwise.

She wasn’t a virgin of any sort now. She was no longer a tool of vengeance, and she would pay for allowing that to happen later. Right now, she was just a woman—a hungry, aching woman. One whose senses were completely filled with the Breed whose cock was shuttling between her lips. Her tongue licked and stroked hungrily over the hot flesh as the taste of him and her hunger for him raged out of control.

His hand was locked in the hair at the back of her head, clenching and pulling at the strands, sending arcs of explosive sensation racing through her, over her.

A heavy pulse flexed beneath the erection she held captive, a hint of salty male and midnight teasing her taste buds as pre-cum escaped the narrow slit at the tip of his cock. The taste brought a low moan from her lips, the need for more than a teasing hint of his pleasure rushing through her system.

Tightening her grip at the base of his shaft, she slid her free hand from his thigh to between his legs to find his tightly drawn testicles. As her fingers caressed him there, finding the spheres hidden beneath her touch, he groaned her name.

The sound of it was a hoarse, growling rasp that sent her senses spinning in pleasure. The sound of a man’s pleasure shouldn’t send sensation racing through her with the same strength that his touch would. Or with the same pleasure.

Yet it did.

Her womb clenched, her clit swelling impossibly further as her pussy slickened for him.

Sucking the thick flesh deeper, Gypsy held it deep within her mouth, her tongue working against the sensitive underside as she suckled the broad head, loving the taste and feel of him in her mouth.

The intimacy of it. The pleasure she swore she could feel emanating from him seemed to wrap around her, sink inside her and whip the conflagration of sensations rising through her senses higher than ever before.

...

What the fuck was she doing to him?

Rule felt every muscle in his body tightening, burning, pleasure rushing through his flesh like a thousand tingling slashes against every nerve ending in his body. The feel of her mouth drawing on the sensitive head of his dick was destroying him. The pleasure was tearing through him, raking across his senses and giving a part of him that had been wild, uncontrolled and inconsolable completely to the woman kneeling before him.

As her tongue pressed firmly against the underside of his cock, he could feel the brutal pleasure gathering just beneath it. The flared head pulsed and swelled further even as it tightened with agonizing pleasure. He could feel the barb that would only distend once he was buried inside her, surrounded to the hilt by her lush heat, pulsing in time to the blood rushing through his veins.

Adrenaline called forth by the pleasure tearing through him filled his senses. That rush of power and strength was an incredible high during battle, but rushing through his system now, powered by Mating Heat, aflame with the scent of her hunger for him, it was like nothing he had ever known.

Even the powerful hallucinogenics, the incredible drugged highs and mind-numbing lows he’d experienced in the labs had nothing on the sensations ravaging his senses now.

There was no such thing as control. There was no holding back.

His fingers locked in her hair, his gaze locked on the ecstatic expression of her face, he knew that control, reason or holding back was nothing he wanted when it came to the lush eroticism of this woman.

His mate.

“Gypsy, now is the time to pull back.” The animal was taking control. Rule could feel his senses expanding, narrowing, centering on the woman and nothing more. On the hunger clawing at him, beating in his soul and demanding he take her.

Possess her.

Imprint upon her the fact that she belonged to him.

This was his mate.

She was the man’s woman. The man’s heart.

But she was the animal’s mate, and here, at this time, the animal ruled. The creature that existed within his genetics, within the soul of the man, had been held back long enough.

As her lashes drifted open, her pretty green eyes dark and filled with hunger, gleaming with feminine defiance, Rule lost the battle.

...

Gypsy could feel him. He was close. His testicles were drawn tight, his cock throbbing, the crest flared and pounding fiercely as the taste of salt and male arousal teased her senses.

She’d wondered what it would be like with him, loving him with her lips, with her tongue, feeling him thrusting past her lips until he found his pleasure with her.

She was certain it would happen within seconds.

“Gypsy, now is the time to pull back.” The sound of his voice was so ragged then, so harsh and animalistic that she knew what she would see when she opened her eyes.

She told herself to keep her eyes closed. She didn’t want to see what would meet her eyes.

But she had never listened to that inner voice as she should, so why should she start now?

Her lashes drifted open.

Brilliant, neon blue filled his gaze, his entire eye. In the center, the black iris had morphed, slitted just a bit to assure her that it wasn’t the man staring back at her. The animal his genetics were drawn from watched her, and he was tired of waiting on the man to—

“No.” The protest was instinctive as he pulled back, removing the treat she’d believed was within seconds of releasing into her mouth.

He snarled at her. A low, feral sound that had her eyes widening, a gasp tearing from her as she suddenly found herself staring at the shower wall. Behind her, one hard hand gripped her hip to hold her in place as the other planted itself between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward firmly.

“Damn you—” She froze the second she’d moved to struggle against him.

Suddenly he was covering her, sharp canines, dangerously strong, gripping the muscle at the bend of her neck as he growled a low, harsh warning.

She should have been terrified.

She should have been fighting.

Instead, she lost her breath, gasping with a surge of such incredible pleasure that her lashes fluttered in a gesture of instinctive submission to him.

She would hate herself later, she decided. Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe next week.

She wasn’t going to do anything to dull or take away from the incredibly erotic sensations rushing through her body. Pleasure stormed her senses. It exploded at the sensitive flesh of her neck, spilled through the rest of her body, and when the hard crest of his cock pressed against the swollen folds of her pussy, her juices had her so slick, so ready for him that when he pressed against the entrance, the tip of his cock wedged inside easily.

Then came the real pleasure.

Gypsy’s back arched, a cry tearing from her lips as the first heavy thrust buried only a few inches of his shaft inside her. Steamy water flowed around them, blocked only marginally by his broad back. It heated the cubicle further, steaming the glass door, filling the area with a moist heat that only further sensitized her flesh.

Pulling back, he gave her only a second to draw another breath before he was plunging inside her again, then again. Four heavy thrusts before he lodged fully inside her, stretching her, sending sharp spasms of incredible pleasure piercing each nerve ending inside her pussy.

Her fingers curled against the shower floor, the tile smooth, warm beneath her. Above her, Rule was harder, hotter. Buried inside her, his cock throbbing, pounding against her overstretched vagina and clouding her senses with a drugging pleasure.

She was crying his name, begging, and she had no idea what she was begging for until he began moving.

His fingers tightened at her hip as he planted his other hand on the shower floor in front of her. Gypsy braced her shoulder against the clenched muscles of his arm, turning her head and biting into the tough flesh as he began thrusting fiercely inside her.

Each penetration was a shock of agonizing pleasure. The rasp of the flared crest against her inner tissue stoked the need to climax to a painful level. She was crying out his name, her pussy clenching on each quick thrust, desperate to hold him inside her. The iron-hard width stretched her until each thrust exerted just enough pressure to her swollen clit to drive her insane there.

Her senses were being thrown out of control. Pleasure intensified to the point that she was certain she couldn’t stand another second. Couldn’t bear the need to orgasm for a heartbeat longer, only to be thrown higher. To burn hotter.

“Rule, please. Damn you, let me come,” she cried out, feeling his tongue licking against the flesh clenched between his teeth as a rumbled growl vibrated against her back and at her ear.

His hips pounded against her rear, his cock shuttling hard and deep, caressing and stroking the oversensitized flesh of her pussy until she thought she would go mad with the sensations tearing through her.

“Please,” she moaned against his bicep, feeling it flex beneath her lips. “Please, fuck me hard. Harder.”

He growled, the pace increasing, the iron-hard flesh shafting inside her faster, harder, stroking and burning through flesh as the delicate tissue clenched and tightened around each thrust until she felt that inferno building inside her reaching a critical peak.

The hand gripping her hip slid between her thighs, finding the agonizingly swollen bud of her clit with the callused tips of his fingers.

That touch against live nerve endings screaming out for him shattered her. It began with a rapid-fire implosion that stole her breath. Ecstasy crashed in upon her senses, drawing her body tight as her teeth bit into the hard flesh of his bicep.

Lightning struck at her clit, speared into her pussy, then gathered in force to clench at her womb as it suddenly went from an internal influx of pure pleasure to a series of fiery explosions of such ecstatic fury that her sight blurred to a whitescape of brilliant, bursting light.

She was unaware how hard she bit into his bicep as she felt the internal detonations overtake her. She was only barely aware of his teeth penetrating the flesh at the bend of her neck and shoulder. Each sensation was just another white-hot burst of rapture shuddering through her body, jerking her in his grip as she felt the additional thickness of that added erection inside her, locking him inside her.

The feline Breed barb.

She could feel it locking into the area of her G-spot, rasping and caressing flesh so well hidden on a woman that it took a very experienced lover to find and caress it properly.

Nature had given the feline Breeds a little additional help there, just as it had in other areas. Several rapid-fire bursts of sensation struck at her sense as Rule locked inside her. They amplified the release ripping at her senses, sent her flying higher, until she was nothing but a creature of pure sensation. She wanted, needed, nothing but this pleasure.

This Breed possessing her.

She was lost and she knew it.

Gypsy could feel the imprint of that truth searing inside her soul. She was lost to him. There was no escaping him, because she knew, mating be damned, she would never be able to do without this pleasure again. And that terrified her. Because anything a woman couldn’t do without was guaranteed to destroy her when it was taken from her.

...

What the fuck had he done?

What the fuck was going on?

Son of a bitch.

Son of a bitch.

It was all he could do to hold his weight from her as he found they’d both collapsed to the floor of the shower. Warm water still flowed around them, though the heat that had filled it earlier was absent.

And he needed to get his ass off his mate and turn off the water before she became chilled.

The thought of that actually had him moving. Every instinct inside him warned him that protecting her, no matter how slight the danger or effect on her health, was of paramount importance.

What did she do to him?

This wasn’t Mating Heat. Mating Heat was the inability to be apart. It was the need to fuck, to procreate, no matter the obstacles.

This wasn’t Mating Heat. It was the animal’s response to the man’s automatic thoughts about a woman he was trying desperately not to love. And he’d already failed.

Forcing his muscles from the limpest stage they had likely ever known, Rule moved to his feet, quickly turned off the water, then knelt to help his mate from the shower tiles.

“Just go ’way,” she mumbled as he lifted her into his arms before placing her on the wide built-in shower seat and grabbing a towel.

She slumped against the corner, eyes closed, her long hair hanging in sodden ringlets around her face and dripping water down her breasts and on her thighs. Her head rested against the corner of the shower, the green of her eyes gleaming between her lowered lashes.

“Get dressed or something.” Her voice was still sleepy, lazy, no doubt the reason why she surprised him when her hand flashed out and jerked the towel from his grip.

This was a bad thing, he thought as she draped the material over her to cover her breasts and thighs. No one else, no matter who, no matter the circumstances, could have jerked that towel from him so easily. Never had he allowed his guard to drop to that point.

That didn’t excuse the fact that she had moved much more quickly, and with a precision no civilian could possess, to ensure that she acquired the towel from him. And she didn’t even notice the fact that she had moved so easily, and with a training he was certain she wouldn’t want revealed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The smell of her distrust was offensive.

Rule grimaced. The animal was still far too close to the surface, the pleasure of moments before still lingering too strongly within his senses.

“Let’s get you dried off, hotshot,” he told her, kneeling in front of her and taking the towel from her, despite the struggle she gave him.

Starting with her hair, he blotted the excess water from it gently, aware long moments later that she was growing frustrated with his ministrations. The long, water-heavy ringlets were particularly pretty, though. The straight effect she sometimes achieved was nice as well, but he was fond of the waves and little curls. Drying it too quickly, too roughly could cause the strands to frizz. He knew she wouldn’t like that. He’d never seen her hair frizzy or at any time less than silken and healthy looking.

“Rule, what the hell are you up to?” She was watching him with far more distrust than even moments before.

“I’ve just been drying your hair.” Finishing the last of the long curls, he brushed them gently behind her shoulder as he evaded her attempts to grab the towel back.

“Fine, you dried it.” She glared back at him. “Now give me the damned towel. I’ll dry myself.”

The scent of her distrust only grew and, even more disturbing, also a sense of fear as he’d continued attempting to dry her. Why would taking care of his luscious little mate cause her such distress?

Narrowing his eyes, Rule did as she asked, reached out and pulled another towel off the shelf on the outside wall to finish drying his own body.

Seconds later she found the strength in her legs, rose to her feet and quickly wrapped the towel around the slender curves he would have enjoyed watching a bit longer.

Tossing his own towel to the corner of the shower, he moved from the cubicle and headed to the bedroom. The scent of the continued distrust and that edge of fear had been joined by the hint of pain.

Dammit. She was tempting those crazy fucking animal genetics into surging free again. And that was something he’d prefer to ensure never happened again. Well, unless he was buried deep inside her again.

Pulling on a pair of jeans, he zipped them quickly, aware that his cock was still hard enough to ensure it wouldn’t be long before he was indeed buried inside her again.

Until then, he’d wait patiently.

It wasn’t long before she moved into the room, glancing at him nervously before moving to the dresser. There—his brow lifted as she found the drawer that held his shirts on the first try.

Lifting a dark gray T-shirt free from the top of the pile, she unfolded it, drew it over her head, then pushed her arms into the sleeves and let it fall over her body before dropping the towel.

Those animal genetics—

He normally cursed them; in this second, he was doing more than cursing them. The animal snapped inside him. A hint of a scent. The awareness of something not just right as his normally dependable senses failed him.

He’d come into this room weeks before, aware of the slightest scent that he should have recognized, only to have it elude him.

It wasn’t eluding him now.

“Where did you get the scent blocker the night you searched my room, mate?” he asked her softly. “And who provided it?”