Blood Mate: A Paranormal Romance by Natalie Kristen Page A

convulsed violently as her
desire spiked and twisted through her, driving her almost out of her
mind.
    “ I...I need...you,
Jett,” she whispered finally.
    Jett held her tightly, his
desire to protect and possess her surging uncontrollably.
    He knew all this time that she
was his.
    His woman needed him. Now.
    She was his.
    He couldn't have her in his
life, but just for this moment, just for tonight, she would be his.
    He would not deny her. And
there was no denying how much he wanted her.
    He wanted this, wanted her,
for too long.
    Jett gripped the ends of her
t-shirt, feeling his lust rage out of control. In a pounding
heartbeat, he ripped her shirt in two, exposing her pale, quivering
body.
    Tonight, only for tonight,
you are mine.

     

CHAPTER
NINE

    Bryn gasped as Jett shredded
her t-shirt and pressed her hard against the wall. Her black bra and
black leather pants contrasted with her smooth, white skin. Jett
pinned her hands to the wall, and let his eyes rake slowly down her
body.
    His gaze was hot and
predatory. His breath on her neck sent a jolt of molten heat
hurtling down her body. She squirmed and panted, wanting and needing
his mouth and hands on her. This maddening, tormenting hunger was
worse than anything she had ever experienced before.
    Bryn blinked rapidly as her
vision began to blur. “Jett...”
    She felt him grab her hands
and stretch them high over her head as he lowered his face to hers.
    She tilted her face to him as
he began to kiss her. She could feel his deep yearning and his
hunger as he kissed her relentlessly and achingly. She felt the hard
length of him against her belly, and she moaned against his mouth.
    She wanted more of him. She
wanted to put her hands against his broad chest, feel the powerful
beat of his heart and trace every sculptured line and angle of his
scarred body. She wanted to rake her fingers through his soft, sandy
hair and hold that handsome face in both her hands. She wanted to
feel him, all of him. She wanted to take him into her body, and take
his blood. He was her mate.
    She wanted him to take her
hard, claim her, own her.
    Bryn arched her back,
straining to get closer to him. She tried to free her hands, but he
laced his fingers through hers and pressed her hands to the wall as
he continued devouring her mouth.
    “ Jett...” she
panted as he kissed her collarbone and nipped at her neck.
    He dragged the strap of her
bra down her shoulders and kissed the swell of her breasts. Bryn
cried out as his tongue teased into the cup of her bra to taste her
nipple. He began to suckle her greedily and his hands moved to her
back to unclasp her bra. As he tore her bra away, she heard him
inhale sharply. “Bryn, you are so beautiful,” he rasped.
    Jett's breathing became ragged
and heavy as his gaze dropped to her full, heaving breasts.
    With a growl, he grabbed her
and closed his mouth over one pert, pink nipple. He sucked hard,
making her nipples lengthen and harden under his lips and tongue.
Bryn whimpered as he took her nipples between his teeth and tugged at
them. As he kneaded her lush breasts with his large, rough hands,
Bryn pushed her hands greedily under his t-shirt.
    She braced against the wall of
his chest and felt his heart beating strongly against her palm. His
muscles tensed and rippled as she ran her fingers down his abdomen.
Her eyes blazed with heat as she yanked his t-shirt up to see his
tanned, ripped torso.
    With one swift motion, she
pulled his t-shirt over his head and stared at him as he stood bare
chested before her.
    She licked her lips.
    He was gorgeous. Tanned,
muscled, scarred. He was—perfect.
    Her eyes lingered over the
jagged scars and faded tattoos on his chest and arms. His scars were
a part of him. He had gotten them when he was a kid, in brawls, turf
battles and power struggles. There were newer, more recent scars.
These were injuries he had sustained as a police officer and as a PAC
Enforcer.
    Jett stared down at her,
holding himself