Free Primal Heat 1 by A. C. Arthur Page A

her down toward the mattress.
    “You never listen,” he told her. “No matter what I tell you, you are determined to do the opposite.”
    “You wanted me too,” she countered.
    “You’re fucking disobedient!” he yelled, spreading her cheeks, letting the tip of his dick rub from her anus to her core, still spreading her juices until the slick sound echoed in the room.
    “You should be punished,” he continued. “Punished.”
    The smack of his palm against her ass was quick, painful, and had Nivea coming with a rush that stole her breath.
    “Eli,” she breathed finally.
    He smacked the other cheek and her arms shook, threatening to buckle and send her face smashing into the bed.
    “Just … just,” he started to say, then stopped, deciding to press his cock into her instead of completing the sentence.
    He pounded hard, spearing in and out of her while holding tight to her hips with the same confidence and determination he trained his guards. The sound of his groin smacking into her ass was rhythmic, addictive as Nivea grabbed the comforter between her fingers again. With each thrust she moaned, with each retraction her cat growled. She’d tried to circle her hips, to meet his pumps, but he held her tighter, keeping her still while he worked.
    “You don’t have me,” she vaguely heard him say through the haze of pleasure, the rise of her next release.
    “You. Will. Never. Have. Me.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust, retract, then a thrust again.
    For what may have been the first time in her life Nivea couldn’t respond. She couldn’t give a quick quip, couldn’t defend herself or tear him down with a smart retort. All she could do was grit her teeth to keep from screaming as her release rippled through her entire body.
    He stilled behind her and she heard his cat purring, a soft curse falling from his lips as his dick pulsated inside her, his release escaping even though, she thought with faint alarm, he didn’t want it to.
    *   *   *
    The shower wasn’t meant for two. Each bathroom was utilitarian in design. So it was no wonder Eli felt claustrophobic as they both attempted to wash away the sweat resulting from their tryst. He’d done so with clear and present intent, while Nivea looked to be languishing in the moment.
    She lifted one long arm, soaping the pit then up and down its length. Repeated those steps with the other arm. All the while her eyes remained closed, her breasts rising and falling with the act. When she soaped the high mounds it was with great slowness, her hands resting over her puckered nipples, slipping slowly down her torso, where a trail of soapy bubbles followed. The moment the trail ended at the V of her legs was when Eli finally looked away.
    His fists balled at his sides as he thought of how he’d fallen to the weakness. He’d fought for what seemed like so long against touching her, taking her. And now, here they were. Not even a foot away she was naked, her body available and waiting for him. All he had to do was reach out and take, again.
    But he didn’t. Instead he moved quickly to exit the stall, slamming the door behind him as he stepped into the coolness of the bathroom. The towel he’d used earlier was still in the bedroom, so he continued his hasty steps there, yanking the towel from the floor where he’d left it. Drying quickly he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and was just sticking his arms through a sleeveless undershirt when she emerged from the bathroom.
    “So how are we going to deal with this?” she asked. “Uncomfortable silence? Awkward avoidance?”
    She dried off her body as she talked, showing not an inch of modesty as she let the towel fall to the floor and reached for her clothes. Gritting his teeth, Eli refused to look at the lines and curves of her body as she moved, performing the simplest, yet most seductive task he’d ever seen.
    “I have some questions to ask you and then we’ll see,” he stated, taking a seat on the