Lora Leigh - Rule Breaker

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, sweat easing down his chest in thin rivulets as his eyes darkened, glowed brighter. “Take me just like that. All tight and slick, with all those pretty juices clinging to me as that tight pussy sucks me right in.”

Another cry slipped free of her lips as she realized she was being pulled straight into the steady climb to another orgasm before the first one was finished tossing her through the sensual storm that had possessed her.

“Rule.” One hand gripped one of his wrists as the other tore at the blankets beneath her. “Just do it. Oh God, I don’t know if I can stand this.”

Pleasure was a racking, torturous ecstasy as he took her slowly. So slowly, letting her feel every inch of his cock ease inside her, parting her with the wide, blunt head, staking claim, branding her inner flesh with erotic heat.

“That snug little cunt sucks at me like a hungry mouth,” he groaned, the explicit words more involuntary, an expression and extension of his pleasure more than anything else. “Fuck yeah, suck me right in, baby. Tighten that hungry pussy around me.”

A half growl, half snarl left his chest as she did just that involuntarily to the sound of the sexy order.

“Dream of this.” He pushed in deeper, his hips flexing, driving his erection inside her another inch, pulling back, sinking in again as she began to writhe beneath him.

It was so good.

It was too good.

She didn’t know if she could survive it. If she could survive the coming explosion.

“Rule!” She tried to scream out for him as he suddenly powered inside her.

Taking her in a single, deep stroke, burying his cock balls-deep inside the tight inner shudders of her pussy as sensation began to pulse, to throb inside her senses as she felt her orgasm building.

“God, I feel your pleasure,” he groaned as she stared back at him in dazed, nearly uncomprehending hunger. “It surrounds me, Gypsy. Strokes me.”

As his did her.

Pulling back, he drove inside her again, but this time, he didn’t pause. He pushed his arm beneath her hips, lifted her hips and began fucking her with a hunger torn out of his control.

If he’d sensed her pleasure, she swore she had to feel his. The ultra tight, rippling flesh gripping him, stroking him as he sank to the very depths, his cock head burying itself in giving flesh, as if the blunt crest had buried itself in liquid lightning.

Pleasure struck at the sensitive crest, wrapped around the shaft, stroked and flicked and licked with electric pleasure that only built with each inward stroke until he was shafting inside her harder, the pleasure climbing, taking her, sealing her to him, until it suddenly pierced both their senses with blow after blow of such ecstasy that Gypsy wondered if they would survive it.

Her pussy tightened further around him, flexing and rippling as the first hard jet of his release pulsed inside her. Then that swelling extended from his shaft, just beneath the head of his cock. It became quickly erect, tucking in that narrow crevice behind her clit and increasing the sensation, the brutal pleasure with bolt after bolt of sensation even as the pulse of his release ejaculated inside her.

When it was over, his weight partly collapsed upon her, the rest boneless against the bed, exhaustion seeped through her. Through every muscle, every bone and cell, until it came to a shadowed, hidden part of her soul.

But Rule knew it was there. When he had found it, why he hadn’t tried to force it open, she wasn’t certain.

An impression of gentle chastisement touched her senses then.

No, he would never force it from her.

He would never take it from her.

It was hers to give as nothing else ever could be.

It was more precious than her love, more dear to him than her laughter or her smiles, she realized.

Gypsy tentatively released the final shield she’d built years ago between herself and anyone who threatened to touch her heart.

But Rule had done more than threaten to touch it. He owned it. He owned every part of her, even this fragile, so very vulnerable part of her soul.

For the first time in nine years, Gypsy gave her trust.

Completely. Willingly and without hesitation she bound herself to her Breed, both man and inner beast.

He found the energy to lift his head, to brush his lips against hers, then meet her gaze.

They didn’t have to speak.

They could feel.

They didn’t have to make vows.

It was all there already.

In that link that would never have existed if man hadn’t thought he could create life, if the Almighty hadn’t taken those creations and made them his own.

A link that gave her Breed full access, heart and soul.

But gave Gypsy complete, endearing love, dedication and an assurance, even if tomorrow didn’t come, right now, here in his arms, she was finally complete.

“She was the child we did not believe we would be blessed with.” Orrin Martinez sat with his two sons and their families. Their wives and children.

President of the Navajo Nation, Ray Running Wolf Martinez; his wife, Maria; and daughter, Claire. Orrin’s younger son and legal advisor, the widowed Terran Martinez, and his two daughters, Isabelle and Chelsea. Behind Isabelle stood her mate, the Coyote Breed negotiator, Malachi Morgan. Sitting just behind Orrin and to his side was the Navajo Nation Headquarters head of security, Audi Johnson. Behind him stood his wife, Jane, and their daughter, Liza Johnson, as well as Liza’s Wolf Breed mate, Stygian Black.

The entire family of Orrin Martinez as well as his lawyer faced two Lion Breeds and their mates, who had been summoned by the head of the chiefs of the Six Tribes to answer the question of their declaration of kinship to the Martinez family.

Rule sure hoped Isabelle had a little thankfulness in her heart after the secret he’d revealed for her. To save her father from a rash decision that would have destroyed her, based on another’s lies, Rule had admitted to Terran that Malachi had never been in the labs where his baby sister, Morningstar Martinez, had been held captive for so many years before she was murdered beneath the cruel scalpel of the scientists that worked there.

Rule and Lawe had been in those labs, and they knew Malachi hadn’t been there. They were the children of Morningstar, and whoever had come in contact with her during those years, they had known of it.

Rule and Lawe sat in front of the wide desk of the head of the chiefs of the Six Tribes, facing the family Orrin claimed. They were part of this family by blood, separated from them by intent.

As Orrin was one of the chiefs of the Six Tribes, his position on the Nation Council was assured. His opinion was highly respected. Orrin was well known for his honesty, his integrity. His son Ray had gained the vote as president of the Nation mainly because of his father’s backing. But Orrin was also known just as well for his missing daughter and his determined search for her until twelve years past, when the Breeds had officially notified him of her death.

“Her mother, Aliva,” Orrin continued, “died of grief two months after we received news that she had died.” He shook his head, his voice thickening. “I, Ray, and especially Terran, we followed every lead, searched every place on this Earth we could search and we could not find our precious Star. The grief was more than her mother could bear.”

It was all Rule could do not to sneer. The only thing that held the curl of disgust from his lips was confusion. Confusion because Orrin knew he had received all the information he had needed to find his precious Star , and he had ignored it. Yet the old man sat across from him, his face weathered and lined, his black eyes filled with tears that were blinked back quickly, and his scent one of honesty.