Hot for the Holidays by Lora Leigh Page A

cheek.
    Taking the figure from her, Hawke wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her against him. She watched, silent, as he hung the ornament again, the broken wing sending fragments of light glittering around it.
    “She doesn’t need to be fixed.” Hawke’s voice was soft, his breath feathering along her temple as she stared at the wing. “She’ll always remind us of what we survived, Jess.”
    She bit her lip and tried not to cry.
    “I was lying,” she finally bit out desperately, another sob tearing from her chest. “What I told Todd . . .”
    Hawke swung her around, his finger pressing to her lips as she saw the surprising crooked grin on his lips.
    “Breeds can smell a lie, mate. Have you forgotten that?”
    Her lips parted. Yes, she had forgotten that. In the fear and the confusion, she had forgotten that Breeds could smell a lie.
    “You knew?” Her breathing hitched as happiness seemed to flood her. “You knew I was lying?”
    “I knew you were fighting to hold on until I could get my bearings.” He touched a tear on her cheek, wiped it away. “I knew you were saving both our lives the only way you could, baby. You didn’t hurt me. I never once believed otherwise.”
     
    ould he love anyone more than he loved her at that moment, Hawke wondered. Pure joy lit up her gaze; sweet heat and unconditional love filled the air around them. She was indeed a mate he could be proud of. One he knew would always walk at his side.
    Turning, he lifted her in his arms and bore her back to the mattress.
    “I believe we were in the middle of something when that bastard disturbed us,” he stated as he came over her, her arms wrapping around his neck as her lips curved into a tempting, loving smile.
    “We weren’t exactly in the middle,” she shot back saucily. “I believe we were just getting started. Don’t go missing steps there, mate.”
    He had to laugh at her. She’d always been able to make him smile, make him laugh. She had always lightened his heart even as she hardened his dick.
    “I love you, Jess,” he growled, the man and the animal speaking, the primal need and emotion that erupted inside him impossible to contain.
    “I love you, Hawke Esteban. With everything I am, I love you.”
    His lips covered hers then. Deep, sipping kisses kept them both drugged as they fought with their clothes, pulling them from each other, tossing them to the side, baring their flesh to the stroke and caress of the other.
    Her hands roved over his back, her nails rasping over his flesh as she arched against him, urging him with little moans and cries for the possession he couldn’t hold back.
    He had nearly lost her. So easily, she could have been taken away from him tonight. How the hell was he supposed to live if he ever lost his Jess? Not just his mate, but his woman, his lover. She was a part of his soul that he knew he never wanted to be free of.
    Sliding his hand along her side, he reached the ripe curve of her breast. He cupped the mound in his palm and lifted it, rolled his thumb over the distended peak of her nipple before lowering his head to taste it.
    Drawing the tight little nub into his mouth, he suckled at her as though he was dying for the taste of her. Actually, he had been dying before he tasted her. Frozen on the inside, locked in a loneliness he couldn’t bear. For a year he had fought to prove her innocence, fought for her release. And now she was here, in his arms, touching him, arching to him as he touched her.
    He moved down her body and relished each broken cry of pleasure as he fought the heated, slick folds of her pussy. Starving for the taste of her, for the heat of her, he licked through the narrow cleft, moaned at the slick essence of her and devoured her. With lips, tongue and sucking little kisses, he teased and tormented her silken flesh. Tasted her until there was no doubt in his mind that he could ever live without her, then drew in the tight little knot of her clit and sucked