Tags:
United States,
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Erótica,
Romance,
Adult,
Occult fiction,
Occult & Supernatural,
Erotic Fiction,
Brazil,
Cryptozoology,
Animal communicators,
Rain forests
bloodhound now? It hadn’t been that long since he’d had sex …
Or had it?
Forcing himself to ignore the beautiful woman chained fifteen feet from him for a few seconds, he stared at the metal cuff and the bunk and he tugged …
and felt the chain give. He put a little more muscle into it, and the metal began to separate along the chain links until one finally snapped.
“What the hell—are you like Superman?” Marlena stared between the chain and him, and really, he wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Right now, he sure felt like Superman.
Swiftly, he was on her, pinning her to the cot. “Who are you and why did they put you in this tent with me?”
“Get your hands off me or—”
“Or what? You’ll call that asshole Shep, whose dick you just tried to wrap around your finger?” He snorted even as she struggled with both her chain and him. “You’re not fooling me. You’re in the jungle with another woman. Two women, alone in the Amazon. Random scientists don’t do shit like that. They have teams.”
She stared at him. “How do you know I’m a scientist?”
“I heard …” He’d heard. What the fuck? “I heard Shep talking before he went to get you. Goddamned guy can’t stop running his mouth.”
She nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “My friend and I, we were lost. We went too far and got separated from our camp.”
“So these guys rescued you.”
“I guess so.” She yanked at the handcuff attached to the cot and looked miserable.
And hot. Like, the good kind of hot. And he was getting hot too, and what the hell? Maybe she was wrapping his dick around her finger … and maybe he was way more dim-witted than Shep.
Or maybe … maybe it was all the changes he was going through. Because there was no way he’d ever healed this fast before. He’d been on the goddamned brink of death.
He inhaled. Damn, the woman smelled good.
“Chance …” The word came out a whisper, because she had no recourse against his approach.
“Your scent … it’s killing me,” he growled against her ear, then buried his face in her neck, her hair, his hands traveling along her body while she remained trapped on the thin mattress.
33
“Why don’t you even the playing field?” she asked, rattling the chain, but he was far too intent on getting into her pants.
His hand slid under her shirt, along her bare belly. He needed to touch her.
Taste her.
He simply needed. She didn’t resist, parted her thighs for his touch. Wanted him too. And when his fingers found her, rubbed her hot, wet sex, he captured her groan against his mouth. His erection jutted against her side as he attempted to shift her so they could press together.
Her handcuffs were in the way, but he continued kissing her, and even in his sex haze, he knew she was voluntarily kissing him back, her tongue teasing the roof of his mouth as she rocked against his hand.
He wanted to drop to his knees, tongue her, taste her … but his need to mark her, to fill her was stronger. That was a keen, unbearable longing he would not be able to stop.
With a sharp tug, her pants and thong were pulled down, but they wouldn’t fit over the heavy boots she wore. Frustrated, he managed to free one leg enough for him to hook it around his waist. To open her to him.
Her wet sex welcomed the head of his cock easily. Teased it, and for a second he wondered what the hell was going on here, why he couldn’t stop. Why she didn’t want him to.
Why all of this felt so goddamned right.
With a harsh cry he didn’t recognize as his own, he thrust inside her. Felt strange at the lack of guilt, because he hadn’t asked her if any of this was okay.
But even though Marlena was bound, she was consenting. Opening for him.
Wrapping her legs around his waist as he balanced them both, her head thrown back in pure ecstasy.
From there, it was all happening in slow-motion flashes. He was vaguely aware of her cries of pleasure. The room seemed to spin and he was