Claiming the Jackal. Seressia Glass

claimed her mouth in a kiss that slaughtered her senses and reduced her to nothing more than raw, aching need. As if someone had tossed a match on her, Rana went up in flames. She grabbed his hair, pressing her body against his, anchoring herself as she kissed him back with the same level of ferocity. Tongues tangled, teeth clashed as each tried to devour the other.

      Was this a magical or chemical reaction, a long-slumbering need roaring to life or the will of their patron gods? At the moment, she didn’t care about anything beyond Hector’s scorching presence and getting even more of him.

      “Too many clothes,” he muttered against her throat when they broke for air.

      “You’re not wearing any,” she said just as she realized she was still fully dressed. “Oh. Yeah.”

      She loosened her grip on him long enough pull her blouse over her head, her bra quickly following. Hector jerked at her skirt, and she lifted her hips so he could pull it and her panties away.

      She expected him to immediately cover her again, and she would have welcomed that, welcomed the wildness that pulsed between them. Instead he paused, on his hands and knees above her, staring down at her. Knowing these jackals were night creatures, she knew he could see her much better than she could see him.

      He leaned down, pressed his nose against her throat and inhaled. “You smell incredible.” His tongue stroked over the pulse at the base of her throat, a long, slow glide that left her shivering. “You taste even better.”

      Her heart thudded in her chest as he licked his way down her throat to her chest. His lips hovered just over her heart, his breath scintillating warmth against the cool of the night.

      “I can hear your heart pounding,” he whispered, words skating over her exposed skin. She couldn’t tell if his tone was concerned or pleased. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

      “Not afraid. Not of you.” She reached up, cupped his jaw. “Maybe afraid of how much I want this.”

      “Yeah, that,” he said, his voice like crushed gravel. “Need to taste you again.”