Hump Day: Rhenna Morgan's GUARDIAN'S BOND

GUARDIAN'S BOND by Rhenna MorganSeeking a sexy shifter protector? Of course you are! Don't worry, we've got the perfect Hump Day excerpt to satisfy your craving: Rhenna Morgan's series starter, Guardian's Bond!

Priest Rahandras has waited 50 years to find his mate, but once he does it becomes clear she has no knowledge of the Volán clan. But inexperience doesn't cow Katy. Together she and Priest protect their clan from danger and set fires to the pages with some SERIOUSLY explosive chemistry. 

Reaching the bedroom door, he guided her through ahead of him. Her gaze landed on the bed and the full impact of what she’d agreed to reverberated clear to her bones. This was it. Full intimacy with a man who wouldn’t balk in his dominance. Who’d demand her submission and not stop until she gave it.

Moving in behind her, he turned her to face him then gently framed her face. “Breathe, mihara.” As he had at the shop, he stole her kiss before she could speak, taking full advantage of her surprise and slicking his tongue past her lips.

It was exactly what she’d needed. As if his lips and tongue gliding wet and warm against her own had the power to unplug every thought save those tied to sensation.

She sighed, tilted her head back for more of his addictive taste and pressed closer to his heat. Savored the slab of warm, hard muscle beneath his T-shirt and the way her heavy breasts gave way to his strength. She wanted more. Wanted to feel his heat without their clothes between them. The rasp of her straining nipples against his bare flesh.

But he only kissed her, lazily drawing her deeper and deeper and taking his sweet, frustrating time.

She moaned and rubbed herself against him, tilting her neck to give him better access as he blazed a drugging trail with his mouth along her jawline. It was beautiful. Relaxed and unhurried, but so far from what she’d expected her thoughts slipped out without censor. “Why are you being so tender?”

His lips curved against her skin and he nipped the spot right where her neck and shoulders met. He licked the same spot and chuckled, the warmth of his breath teasing the wet path he’d left behind. “This isn’t tender, kitten.” Slowly, he lifted his head and began working free the hasty braid she’d fashioned for their ride home. “This is me keeping a choke hold on my beast and the darkness so I don’t throw you down and fuck you until all you know in this world is the feel of my cock inside you.”

Holy hell.

Her body mirrored the thought with a tremor she couldn’t have hidden if she’d tried.

And he felt it, tightening the arm he kept around her waist as he lazily combed his fingers higher and higher, studying her every response. “You like that.” Not a question, but an observation spoken aloud.

Still, she answered, the admission on her lips fascinatingly erotic. “Yes.”

He hummed at that, the approving tone of the low rumble stroking her much the way she’d petted his cat. “That’s good. Because sooner or later, I won’t be able to hold it back, and the darkness is going to get its turn.” He speared his fingers in her hair and fisted the thick strands, giving her just a taste of what he’d promised. “Until that happens, I plan to build you up and make sure you’re ready for it.”

Ready for it? She was already strung so tight she could likely power half the electricity needed for his house. Worse, she didn’t have a clue how to manage it all. Only knew that the growing current needed an outlet. A place to unleash and purge the burgeoning surplus before it consumed her entirely. “Priest—”

He captured her protest with another kiss, the press of his mouth more insistent than the last. A vow and an order all rolled up into one. When he finally pulled away again, it was only enough to murmur against her lips. “Now, you’re going to stay right here and do exactly what I tell you.”

He shifted as though to move away, but she dug fingertips into his broad shoulders, practically clawing to keep him in place. “I don’t like the way that sounds.”

“You may not like the way it sounds, but you’ll like how it feels.” He pried her hands free and eased back, a salacious grin on his face that said whatever came next would either break her, or send her into a whole different stratosphere.

He ambled to the oversized club chair near the bed. 

Compared to the rest of his manly furnishings, the subtle gold damask design had seemed slightly out of place when she’d first seen it. Though, watching him settle in it now, splaying his big body on the deep cushions and resting his head against the raised, yet slightly reclined back, it made perfect sense. A chair meant for a king…or a high priest. “Take off your clothes.”

It was the last thing she’d expected. A blunt order with zero give that whipped her thinking brain to life and urged her to run. But her body rebelled and stayed locked in place, her thighs quivering in anticipation. Beneath her ribbed tank, her nipples strained harder against the cotton, eager for his gaze. And since she’d pushed the limits of her courage and gone sans bra this morning, they’d jetted right to feature presentation.

She smoothed her hands across the jeans covering her hips, her palms damp where her mouth could barely muster any moisture at all. At the back of her mind, the question Alek had posed whispered and nudged her to jump.

What do you want, Katy?

She wanted this. Right here. Right now. Nothing but pleasure and what felt good. Curling her fingers around the hem of her tank, she sucked in a bracing breath and peeled it up and over her head.

The room’s cool air rushed to greet her, sinfully caressing her skin and making her breasts grow taut and heavy. Priest’s pendant hung heavy at the hollow of her throat, the weight somehow accenting just how much she’d bared.

Priest rubbed his hands along the chair’s thick armrest and gripped the edge, his covetous gaze locked on her breasts. Despite his outward appearance of control, his voice was deep. Almost broken. “More.”

She’d done that. Drawn a confident and powerful man to the edge. Made his voice crack with the same desire that pulsed at her core. The effect was staggering. Intoxicating and strangely addictive.

With shaking fingers, she loosened her jeans, the muted rasp of the zipper as she drew it down and her shaky breaths strangely erotic against the room’s silence. But rather than peel the denim back, she dipped her fingertips beneath her waistband and teasingly skimmed the flesh underneath.

His gaze flicked to hers, a warning to match his words burning behind his predatory stare. “You’re dancing a dangerous line, kitten. Your claws may not be very sharp, but mine are lethally accurate. If you value those jeans, you’ll get them off your body before they’re in shreds.”

Another dirty lash against her senses, this one leaving no doubt that when she peeled her panties down her legs they’d be soaked in the center. And if he’d meant to hurry her along…well, he’d pushed the wrong button. More like stoked her newfound courage and built a raging blaze.

Slowly, she shimmied her jeans past her hips, but made sure to leave her simple white hipster panties in place. From the front, the silky lace wasn’t all that revealing, but from the back they were cheeky as hell. A fact she couldn’t wait for him to discover. She straightened as she spoke, stepped out of her jeans and kicked them aside. “What about your teeth? Will you use them on me, too?”

A growl rumbled up his throat, part panther, part man. Though, both seemed to be fighting for the upper hand. “Oh, you’ll get my bite. Right about the time your pussy clamps down on my cock. Now lose the panties.”

A sassy Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir almost slipped past her lips, but the greedy woman who relished the reins nestled in her grip quashed the smart-ass quip before it could air and peeled the lacy fabric down her thighs.

Oh, yes. She was slick and ready for him. Drenched. A fact driven home by the glistening wetness in her discarded panties.

Apparently, her mate didn’t need the visual, because he gripped the armrests hard enough they groaned and his nostrils flared. He licked his lower lip and practically snarled, “I can smell you.”

It shouldn’t have turned her on. Wouldn’t have with anyone else. But with Priest it was glorious. A primitive testament to her impact on the beast eyeing its next conquest. “You’d smell it better if you were closer.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “I’ll do more than smell it. I’m going to eat it. Lick every damned drop and tongue you until you come and give me more.”

“Okay,” she whispered, the precursor to what promised to be an earthquake-sized release rippling between her legs.

He grinned and cocked his head, his expression far too perceptive. “Did you touch yourself this morning?”

Boy, had she. Both when she’d woken up and again in the shower. Though nothing she’d done had sparked the same response he manifested in her dreams. “Yes.”

“Show me.”

Another rung on the ladder. The next flight up on the death-defying swan pe he seemed hell-bent on facilitating. But she’d done this much. Had pushed him to the point he looked as if he might launch himself at her any second. And more, she’d found a level of confidence she’d never dreamed of owning. A stunning and self-assured sexuality that burned hot as an August sun. What better way to own what she felt and who she was than right now? Here, with her own two hands.

Fingers trembling, she started at her hips, the touch cool despite the fire licking beneath her skin. She let her eyes slip shut and her head drop back, the delicate caress of her hands along her rib cage and then cupping her breasts leaving goose bumps in their wake.

“Is that really what you want?” he said. “How you want me to touch them?”

“No,” she groaned, the answer the easiest one he’d asked of her all night. She forced her heavy eyelids open. “It’s not the same.” She lifted and gently squeezed each mound, remembering how his touch had felt in her dreams. Wondered how reality would be in comparison. “My hands are too small. Not as strong or as rough as yours.” Or as confident, though she refused to admit as much out loud.

He rose and prowled toward her, the power contained in every step that of a man not only close to the edge, but eager to cross it. His big hands splayed along the upper curve of her hips, the heat branding her as sure as his words. “Are you ready for that, mihara? Ready to be claimed?”

God, that word. It should have made her run. At least generated a host of arguments. Instead, a tremor wiggled down her spine and her shoulders pressed back in invitation as the traitorous truth slipped free. “Yes.”

One second. Maybe not even that long, and he cupped her breasts, molding and shaping the taut mounds the way he had in her dreams. Only this was so much better. Hotter. Harder. The difference between sunshine slanting through a closed, dust-covered window and standing unobstructed beneath a brilliant afternoon sun.

And his mouth. Thought wasn’t possible with this kiss. This battle he waged with his lips and tongue. Expelling what little tie she had to reality and laying to waste the last fragments of her fears. The only play left to make was surrender, and she gave it. Willingly. Eagerly.

She slipped her fingers beneath his shirt and moaned at the hard, hot flesh underneath. Over a week, she’d watched him sauntering shirtless and barefoot around his home and finally she had unfettered access. An open opportunity to explore every plane and indentation. She shoved the offensive cotton higher only to be road blocked by his broad chest and the fact that he was too busy using his hands on her to lift them up and let her pull the fabric free. “Priest. Shirt.”

The way he devoured her mouth, she was lucky to get that much out, but he did as she demanded, snarling as he tore his lips away from hers and ripped the shirt over his head. “Need you under me. Now.” Hands back at her hips, he hoisted her up like she weighed a whopping five pounds and palmed her ass in a possessive grip. “Wrap me up.”

Her legs obeyed. God knew, her brain hadn’t sent the order because when he’d pulled her flush against his bare torso her mind had come completely unhinged. But before she could fully appreciate the blistering sensation of his skin against hers and the erotic feel of his charms pressed against her sternum, she was on her back, his massive body braced above her and his mouth relentlessly drawing one nipple deep.

With something between a sigh and a groan, she speared her fingers into his thick hair, the heavy length of it spilling against her torso a stark contrast to the rough rasp of his jeans against her bare thighs.

She rolled her hips, torn between pulling him away from the wicked suction he kept on her breast so she could see his eyes and holding him exactly where he was. “Your jeans.”

Apparently, talking in minimal sentences wasn’t working anymore, because all she got in return was a grunt worthy of a caveman. He shifted to her other breast, nipped the puckered tip, then enveloped it in his scalding mouth.

And holy crap, it felt good. An erotic tug tied straight to her sex that would only get about a thousand times better if she could get him to let up long enough to shuck his jeans and let her grind against the hard length underneath.

She fumbled for his waistband and got the top button undone before he jerked her hands away and pinned them over her head.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, clearly irritated she’d interrupted his plans.

“I’m way past thinking about it. I’m doing.”

“Not yet, you’re not.” He lifted his weight and took his sweet time perusing her body. Despite the purposeful action, his chest pumped in and out like a man who’d sprinted a marathon. “I took you with my mouth last night, but dreams aren’t reality.” He met her stare and released her hands, the conviction behind his gaze enough to hold her without physical restraints. “I want the real deal and I’m getting it tonight.” Sliding his hands beneath her ass, he tilted her for his mouth and openly inhaled her scent, his cat chuffing in pure delight. “Every last fucking drop.”

He licked straight through her slit and she cried out, the velvet rasp of his tongue against her sensitive folds demanding not just her surrender, but her pleasure. Amping the slow-building fire to a raging inferno until there was nothing but sensation. It was overwhelming. Startling in its intensity. So much so, she writhed beneath his mouth, part of her desperate for more of what he offered and another desperate to escape and catch her breath.

Instead, she dared to open her eyes. To feast on the insanely carnal image of her mate devouring her sex—and nearly came when he met her gaze.

He circled her clit with his tongue, the leisurely glide sending fresh ripples out in all directions. “That’s it, kitten,” he growled against her flesh as he teased one finger at her entrance. “Enjoy how it looks.” Another circle, this one tighter and faster. “How it feels when your male devours your cunt.”

And she was gone.

Completely outer limits and soaring through a whole different stratosphere where right, wrong and reason didn’t even compute. Where it didn’t matter what words he’d used to push her over the edge, or the judgments she’d once attributed to them. Only the press of his fingers filling her, pushing her higher with every pulse. The sweet draw of his lips around her clit and the decadent vibration of his hungry groan.

She rolled her hips and savored each wave, riding his steady fingers with a wanton, yet freeing openness and shamelessly holding him to her with both hands. Or maybe it was just her holding on. God knew, the reality she’d known before had been completely rearranged. Every color, every truth, every assumption turned on its head and new possibilities uncovered.

Lazily feeding from her release, he lifted his gaze to hers, a heavy dose of male arrogance adding an extra spark to his gray eyes.

Spearing her hands through his hair, she urged him toward her. “You look awfully proud of yourself.”

“My mate just came for the first time in my mouth and she did it hard.” He kissed the top of her cleft and slowly shifted so he braced himself above her. Between her legs, his fingers pumped slow but steady, stoking the embers he’d left behind. “Not a man alive who won’t smirk when his woman’s taste is on his tongue and her moans are rattling around in his head.”

He kissed her, deep and thorough. As if he needed to drive home how intimately he now knew her and how much more they had yet to go.

Except there was one thing she wasn’t skipping on the trip. One thing she’d yet to indulge in, even in dreams. She pushed against his chest, gaining only enough room to cant her head and leave her jaw and neck exposed to his devious lips. “I want to see you. Want you to show yourself the way I did.”

She felt more than heard his low growl rumbling against her chest, then the slow bristle of his beard against her collarbone as he seemed to consider her request. When he lifted his head, his gaze burned with an edge she’d never seen before. A glint that warned the darkness was closer than she’d realized.

For a second, she expected him to speak. To utter another of those jaw-dropping statements he’d floored her with since they’d begun their sexual dance all those days ago. Instead he slowly eased his fingers from inside her as he sat back on his heels, smoothed his calloused palms along her splayed inner thighs and unhurriedly drank her in.

“Priest?”

“I want you to stay just like this. Open and ready for me. Understand?”

Oh, boy. She was definitely dancing with the dark side. If the tension woven within his voice didn’t prove it, then the otherworldly edge around it did.

And yet she wasn’t afraid. Not even a little. Excited, yes. Drunk on endorphins, absolutely. But not afraid. Not of Priest or any part of him. She swallowed hard, but fisted the comforter at her sides and eked out a broken “Yes.”

Guardian's Bond is available in digital now. Print copies hit shelves on March 27. If you want to start reading today, you can find digital copies starting at $3.99 here: Amazon | B&N | Google Play | iBooks | Kobo. Want to read more of Guardian's Bond? RT VIP Salon members can read the first chapter now!

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