So he used what he had. The pleasure he could give her. The heat that consumed her, and that little edge of pain he knew that made her senses skyrocket and her body convulse in release. What it did to him was just as amazing. Never had he known so much pleasure from simply the giving of it. The arch of her body, the glaze of perspiration over her skin, the sound of her husky cries echoing around them. It made each touch, each whisper of skin over skin more arousing than the most experienced touch he had ever received.

Driving her higher was all that mattered. Tasting her, pleasuring her, was his only concern. And damn if she didn’t taste good. His lips moved from breast to breast, suckling soft, hard, his tongue lashing at her peaked nipple as he stared up at her, watching as she slipped deeper and deeper in the sheer sexuality of the act.

She was coming apart in his arms, and he loved it.

As his mouth continued to torture and torment her tight little nipples he smoothed one hand along her inner thigh, feeling it tense as he came closer to the scalding heat of her pussy. His fingers slid through the shallow slit, a groan escaping his throat at the strangled scream that tore from her. She was honey sweet, hot enough to singe his senses, her heated scent making his mouth water for just a taste.

As he reached the engorged bud of her clit, he lifted his hand then patted the swollen mound firmly. Her hips reared up as screaming pleas filled the bedroom.

“Oh God, Kiowa, I swear. I swear…” she cried. “I won’t run again. I swear. Please do something…”

“But I am doing something.” He was panting for breath, consumed by a hunger for her he had no desire to deny.

He patted her sensitive pussy again, knowing it would take very little to set off the throbbing trigger of her clit. She was so ready to come that even her pussy trembled with the need.

“Kiowa…” her voice dropped to a trembling, breathless cry. “I swear. I swear…”

“Shhh, baby,” he whispered, his mouth moving from her breasts to her damp abdomen and then lower.

“Just enjoy it, Manda. Just let me make you feel good.”

His tongue circled her throbbing clit, the taste of her going to his head like the most potent drug. She was so sweet, so liquid hot and slick it was like plunging his tongue in melted sugar when he thrust it up the velvet confines of her cunt.

He knew what he was going to do. Not that he had planned it, or even really considered it until she had run from him. The moment he had realized she had entered the mountain and placed herself in greater danger, Kiowa had known exactly how he would imprint her submission to him in her mind, her heart. She was his mate. She was falling in love with him, he could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. She would come to realize that her heart as well as her body was bound to him. But until she did, she would learn his word was law where her protection was concerned. She was not strong enough to protect herself. She had no idea of the depravity of the world and those who would take her from him if they had a chance. He would not give them the chance, and neither would she. As his lips moved back to her straining clitoris, he plunged two fingers quickly into the weeping depths of her pussy. She exploded fast, arching and shuddering as her cries filled his ears. He gave her only seconds to peak and begin the gentle slide down before he moved away. Before she had the will or the mind to fight him, he loosened the restraints and flipped her quickly to her stomach. She gasped as he allowed his hand to fall to the smooth, rounded globes of her ass again. Damn she was pretty there, her flesh still pink from the earlier spanking, the small entrance to her anus flexing in response to the orgasm slowly easing through her body.

He lifted her hips, bracing her knees on the bed.

“Stay,” he growled when she would have lain back down. “On your knees, just like that.”

Her legs tightened as she whimpered, arousal still thick in her voice.

“You will not endanger yourself like that again, Amanda,” he snarled, his hands moving to position her knees on the bed as he wanted them, angling her hips back, her rosy rear parting to reveal the ultratight entrance to her ass.

“Do you know what I’m going to do, Manda?” he asked her softly, crooning, his voice deepening at the thought of the pleasure to come.

“Just do it,” she cried out, her buttocks flexing.

He chuckled at the demand, moving his fingers along her saturated pussy to spread the honeyed lubrication back to the little hole.

He slid his finger in slowly, watching as it stretched her asshole, feeling his breath catch in his throat as she relaxed easily for him. He eased her slowly, one finger stretching and feeling her, then two, then three. At the third, she was gasping, her back bowing as her strangled cries echoed around him. Moving his fingers back, he edged closer, tucking the thick head of his dick at the tender opening.

“Kiowa…” Her voice was drugged, sensual as he pressed close, feeling the hard pulse of fluid that exited the tip at the feel of the tight entrance.

Instinct, Dash had told him. A biological, instinctive response to the female’s tight channels and the unusual thickness of the wolf and coyote breeds. Their dicks were unusually thick, though not abnormal. Without it, he could have never attempted what he knew he was going to do now. Hell, he had never attempted if before, had never known it would be possible.

“Kiowa.” Amanda pressed closer, her voice breathy, dazed with the arousal straining through her. He had only kissed her once, deliberately. He wanted to stroke the fires of her lust, not the hormone that spilled from his tongue. He wanted to make her crazy, his touch, her need for it, driving her. His cock spurted again as he pressed deeper. She cried out as the fluid shot into tight, tense muscles.

“Talk to me, baby,” he groaned, hanging onto his control by a thread. “Tell me if you want it, Amanda.”

“Yes.” The harsh groan had his teeth gritting as he pressed deeper.

“Damn. You’re tight,” he panted, feeling the grip, tighter than any fist stretching around the head of his cock.

“Kiowa…” The low drawn-out wail as more of the relaxing fluid shot into her had his head falling back on his neck, his grip on her hips tightening.

The very fact that she was accepting, allowing the penetration was proof of her trust, the intimacy growing between them. Amanda was as prickly as a porcupine protecting its lair; she would never give such liberties without complete trust.

“You will not endanger yourself again.” He pushed deeper, the head of his erection popping inside the stretched muscles now as she flexed around him, causing yet another hard surge of the hormonal fluid inside her tight ass. “Never, Amanda.”

“I swear,” she cried hoarsely. “Oh God, Kiowa, I can’t bear it.”

He pulled back, easing from her immediately, only to have her scream in denial and push back, lodging him deeper inside her.

“What do you want, Amanda?” he demanded fiercely. “Tell me what you want.”

“You…” She was gasping for breath, shuddering each time his cock pulsed inside her. “I want you.”

“Not good enough,” he snapped. “Tell me what you want, Amanda. Tell me now or I’ll stop.”

“No!” She pressed closer, moving back against him, pushing him deeper inside her as she screamed out at the sensations.

“Tell me!” His hand landed on her ass demandingly.

“Fuck me,” she snarled, her voice slurred, enraptured. “Damn you, fuck my ass, Kiowa. Fuck me.”

Two hard blistering jets of the pre-come surged from his cock a second later. Kiowa pushed deeper, gritting his teeth, holding her tight as she writhed beneath him until every tortured, engorged inch of his dick was buried inside her.

She was crying now, her muscles flexing and rippling around him, fighting to accommodate the flesh filling her.

“Mine!” He couldn’t stop the growl that barreled from his throat as he came over her, his lips searching for the tender wound he had left on her neck as he felt his release building in his balls. She was too tight, too hot around him, and despite the thick lubrication his cock had spurted inside her and his normally steely self-control, he knew he wouldn’t last but seconds. She was closer. He could smell it. Feel her pussy rippling through the walls of her ass and knew when he knotted the delicate portal he was lodged in, her orgasm might well destroy them both.

“Yes!” Her uninhibited scream shocked him, renewed him. “God yes, Kiowa. Yours. Yours. Now fuck me, damn you.”

She tightened on him again, her anus flexing, rippling until he had no choice. He was moving inside her, long thrusts that he fought to keep gentle, to keep from hurting her, but her cries urged him on, drove him insane.

His hands were tight on her hips as she followed each stroke, the sound of smacking flesh and wet sex filling the air until he knew he couldn’t bear it any longer. He prayed Dash had known what the hell he was talking about, because Kiowa couldn’t have pulled from her now if both their lives depended on it. He thrust hard and deep, feeling it happen, the tightness halfway up his cock, the sudden swelling as his balls tightened and his cock hardened further. It was exquisite, the most pleasure he could have known in his life.

The first hard rush of semen came as he felt her inner walls stretching, allowing the knot to press into her pussy as it stretched the anal wall, to throb hard and deep inside her, pushing her over an edge unfamiliar to her if her screams were any indication. Throttled, weak sounds interspersed with his name, her vows, her sweet voice swearing she would never run again.

His. Always his.

His teeth bit into her, even though he had sworn to deny himself that pleasure. This time, there was no blood, only sweet, giving female flesh beneath his laving tongue and her soft voice urging him on.

He filled her with his semen, jerking above her, feeling the hard pulse of her release as well, and knowing at that moment, if she ever left him, if he ever lost her, he would be only half a man. His soul would wither to dust and life would, for the first time, become an event not worthy of his notice.

Chapter Twenty-One

“What is that?” Amanda stared at the article hanging above the bed drowsily. It looked like a spider’s web, spun within a circle of branches. Small gems were threaded into the web, and above, where it hung from the ceiling, several small pouches were attached to the string.

“It’s a dream catcher.” Kiowa lay on his side, snuggled close to her, one arm beneath her head, the other thrown over her stomach as she rested against his chest.

“I’ve heard of those.” She frowned.

Kiowa grunted. “My mother was half Kiowa Indian. She wove it before she sent me away with my grandfather. It’s supposed to bring good dreams. To catch visions and hold them in place while allowing nightmares to escape and trouble you no longer.”

She tilted her head curiously.

“Most of the Breeds resemble Native Americans, why is that?”

He sighed at her question, shifting onto his back to stare up at the dream catcher.

“The genetically altered sperm has a lot of Native American coding. The scientists, in their studies, decided that it would create fiercer fighters, more savage soldiers when combined with the animal DNA.”

He shrugged dismissively.

She tilted her head, staring at the intricate, fragile weave and the small crystals that looked like dew upon a spider’s web.

“Does it bring good dreams?” she asked him then, turning to look at him. The expression on his face was a mix of regret and acceptance. He didn’t resent the past, but he was determined it wouldn’t be repeated.

“It’s a keepsake.” He finally turned away from it and she knew it was much more than that to him. She continued to stare up at it silently.

“Did you ever see your mother after your grandfather took you?” she asked. She couldn’t imagine her life without her family. As aggravating and frustrating as they could be, they were still her family.