Falcon’s Captive by Vonna Harper Page A

what he’s doing. Prepare. Be ready.
    But did she want to anticipate? Maybe it was better and certainly easier to float in the middle of the storm he’d created. Once again he gave no hint of the gentleness he’d demonstrated earlier, and her pussy wept with each thrust. Her tissues gave way, then surrendered even more, flowing around the masterful fingers.
    She sensed that he was leaning low over her, his back bent and the hand that was not between her legs braced against the ground. Damp heat slammed into her chest. His face was a blur, his body a dark mass over hers. And he was coming closer, his breath drenching her much as her flooded cunt soaked him.
    “What, what?” she managed.
    His response came in the form of something warm and wet settling over the breast she didn’t have hold of. She hadn’t yet acknowledged what he was doing when he sucked her mound into his mouth and closed his lips around it. His tongue pressed against her already hard nipple.
    “Ahh!”
    The fingers skewering her pushed home and held, pressure coming at her and staying, promising and taunting.
    Swimming, much as she relished the experience, had never made her feel as weightless as she did now. Flying had been a part of her for as long as she remembered, a wonderful experience, but that, too, had nothing in common with the soaring, burning sensations swamping her.
    Twisting under him, she scraped her nails along his forearm. Although he grunted, he didn’t try to shake her off. Still scratching him, she opened her mouth, but instead of saying anything, she licked her lips. Sometimes the wind at Falcon Land blew in tight, violent circles, sucking up dirt and leaves and throwing them into the sky. She was in a cyclone of her own making, hers and this man’s.
    Determined to pull him into it with her, she spread her legs wide and bent her knees. A potent scent assaulted her.
    Pushing her breast out of his mouth, he sucked in a breath, then grunted. “You smell of sex, of wanting.”
    “You—made me.”
    “I couldn’t force something you didn’t want on you.”
    Although she wasn’t sure about that, at the moment it didn’t matter. Her legs continued to gape. Watching him pull in another breath reminded her to do the same. She was beyond modesty, beyond fear, ready to plunge.
    “I need your cock in me!”
    “You’re sure?”
    “No, no!”
    His slow blink endeared him to her because for the first time she saw something hesitant in his expression. Maybe he wasn’t the consummate warrior he’d wanted her to believe after all.
    “I don’t have to ask permission,” he said after a moment. “Whatever I want, I can take.”
    “I know that.”
    A hot wave washed over her. She was still trying to come to grips with it when another threatened to drown her. Desperate for a death she was positive would lead to a new birth, she rocked up and clamped her hands over the wrist between her legs. Instead of pulling him off her, she pushed, pressing his fingers even more firmly into her. Her back burned, leaving her with no choice but to fall back again. Her hands slid up him to his forearm.
    “Please,” she begged. “I only want this one thing from you, please.”
    “One?” His chuckle lacked warmth. “And after we’ve fucked, we’ll each return to our people, is that what you’re saying?”
    She couldn’t think beyond killing the great hunger in her, that and acknowledging his mastery over her. Both hating and worshiping him, she tried to soothe away the scratches she’d inflicted on him. Having his fingers still in her bonded them together. Either that or the invasion increased his control of her.
    “Nakos, please!”
    “A warrior loves to hear a woman beg,” he muttered and leaned over her again.
    His tongue slid over her damp nipple. Then his teeth scraped the sides of her swollen nub. She started to buck only to lose all strength as he once more pulled her breast into his mouth. He owned it just as he did the rest of