Serengeti Storm by Vivi Andrews Read Free Book Online

against the pale silk of her skin, drawing his eyes. Her breasts rose and fell in their black-lace prison with the rapid tempo of her breath.
    “What—” He didn’t know what he was going to ask. What was she doing? What did she want? He already knew the answer to both questions. He’d known since she walked in the door and he recognized the wildness in her eyes. Just as he’d known he wasn’t going to fight her, didn’t have a prayer of resisting.
    He wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. More.
    Moving inhumanly fast, she closed the distance between them and cut off the question with her mouth, slamming it hard against his, her fingers grabbing fistfuls of his hair to hold him tight. Her body pressed fully against him and Caleb lost himself inside the warm, sucking, eager heat of her mouth. The drugging suction of it as she worked her tongue against his, feeding the flame that never died between them into a flash fire of lust.
    She released her vise-grip on his hair and went to work on the fastenings of his jeans. In her eagerness, her claws flexed in and out. When one vicious tip nicked the skin of his abdomen, the small, surprising flicker of pain brought him a brief moment of clarity.
    He shoved her away so suddenly she stumbled backward until she hit the bed, falling back into the unmade mess of sheets.
    “If you wanted me in bed, Cale, all you had to do was ask.” She gave a low laugh, her hands already unfastening the clasp on her bra and tossing it aside.
    She quickly unzipped her jeans and began wriggling the tight denim over the smooth expanse of her hips. Caleb stepped forward and grabbed her wrists to stop her.
    He knew he was squeezing too hard, but finesse was a thing of the past. Shana always burned straight through the reins he kept on his control. “What the fuck are you doing?”
    She arched one auburn brow. “Undressing. It facilitates the fucking. Take off your pants.”
    “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole,” he snarled, wishing he knew how to make the words true.
    His mind might resist, knowing the hell Shana could put him through, but his body was more than willing. Inside his jeans, he was already hard beyond the point of pain.
    Shana’s eyes dropped to his erection and she slowly wet her lips. “Ten feet? That’s a bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it, big boy?”
    “Stop it.”
    Far from obeying, she seemed urged to action by his demand. He still held her wrists, but she writhed on the bed, the movement of her full breasts hypnotizing. His vision was so fogged by want, it took her kicking the jeans off her ankles before he realized she’d been wriggling out of them.
    She lay pinned to the bed by his hands on her wrists, in nothing but a sheer, purple thong. She hooked her ankles behind his knees and tried to pull him down onto her. Caleb stumbled, but kept his feet—and his distance.
    “Come on, Cale,” she purred, trying again to twine her legs around his. “You know what I need.”
    “You need a straitjacket,” he growled. But then he met her eyes. Those wild, feverish eyes.
    He’d seen her like this before, in a frenzy of need. She would run to him from her mother. Her face would be twisted as if she was crying, but her eyes would be dry. He’d never seen Shana shed a single tear, no matter how wretchedly she sobbed. He would try to hold her, but gentleness never soothed her. She needed the push and the heat. The frantic strain of her body against his.
    And he always gave her what she needed, fucking her high and hard until she screamed in release, trying to absorb all that panic and frenzy into his body.
    Looking into those wild eyes, he knew he would never be able to walk away from her.
     
    When Caleb suddenly went still, looming above her, Shana squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. “Cale? Come on, baby.”
    She was mostly naked on his bed with her blood boiling. Now was not the fucking time for soulful gazes.
    She dropped her eyes to the ridge his