Free Kiss of Heat by Lora Leigh

insane,” she snorted, turning, her hands shaking as she bent to the box, sorting through the straw as she pulled another new, gleaming automatic rifle from the depths and laid it with the others on the cart beside her.
    “Am I?” He pulled her around to face him, feeling the feverish heat of her skin as she tried to jerk away from him.
    “I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t let go of me.” She was panting.
    Kane could see the fine film of perspiration gathering on her brow, the flush beneath her cheeks, the hunger raging in her gaze.
    “You couldn’t kick my ass if you wanted to right now,” he retorted tightly. “Look at you, Sherra. You’re weak, exhausted from fighting the heat, and nearly shaking with lust. How long can you fight it?”
    “I’ve fought it before.” She struggled as he pushed her against the low metal shelf behind her, holding her there with his body, his own carnal hunger beating at his brain with a strength he was beginning to fear.
    “Not like this you haven’t,” he growled, gripping her hips as her hands braced against his chest. Her fingers flexed, nails rasping over the cotton of his shirt, caressing the mark on his chest with devastating pleasure. “Do you think you’re alone, Sherra? Do you think for one damned minute that you’re suffering without me?”
    He jerked his shirt open, buttons scattering as she pulled her hands back.
    “Look, damn you.” One hand tangled in her hair as he forced her gaze to the mark a bare inch from his flat, hard male nipple. “Look what you left on me, Sherra. How well you marked me. Do you think for one fucking minute that damned hormone can make this harder on me?”
    His voice was rough, enraged. He didn’t know if he could hold back, if he could fuck her now without hurting them both.
    He heard the small, keening sound of agony dragged from the depths of her throat as her eyes widened in pain and horror. Her face paled, her fingers reaching out to touch the reddened mark again.
    Kane grimaced as pleasure, hot and destructive, raced straight to his cock. It swelled, pulsed, as he felt his pre-come seeping from the small, slitted eye in the center of the bulging head.
    Drawing in a hard breath, he trapped her fingers against his chest, stilling them.
    “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, a whimper of need and denial that broke his heart.
    “Sorry?” he asked her softly. “Oh no, baby. I don’t want to hear sorry. I want to hear you purring while my tongue fucks so deep and hard up your tight little pussy that you scream with it. After I’ve eaten my fill of you, then I want to feel those sharp little nails scratching down my back as I fill you with every hard, aching inch of my cock. That’s what I want to hear, Sherra.”
    Her eyes widened further, shock glittering brightly in her gaze as her head raised, her tongue flickering over her lips.
    “Uh uh.” He shook his head, applying a bit of pressure to hers as he pressed her to his chest. “Don’t lick those pretty lips, baby. Lick that mark you left me. Taste me, Sherra, before I do something we’ll both regret.”
    His control was at its weakest point. His body was in full, overwhelming riot. His cock ached like an open wound and the mark on his chest was burning like a flame.
    “Kane.” She rested her forehead against him, her breath whispering over the sensitive brand.
    Her hands clenched at his waist, holding tightly to him as she struggled for breath. Her small body trembled, nearly shaking as she fought both of them and the hunger raging between them.
    Kane tightened his grip on the silken strands of hair at the back of her head before he flattened his palm, pressing again.
    “Now,” he groaned. “You know what I fucking need, Sherra. Give it to me before I take something you’re not ready to give me.”
    The thin, desperate moan that echoed from her chest had him tightening, waiting. It wasn’t a sound of protest or of fear, but of hunger. A second later his