Disciplining the Beast: Taming the Beast, Book 5 by Tina Donahue Page A

lips bruised from their kisses. Her lids were at half-mast, but her eyes sparkled.
    He pecked her mouth and hauled in another breath. “Am I still the man?”
    “Better. A freaking god.”
    Hardly. He’d never performed as well with another woman as he had with her. She deserved the credit. “Thanks. Sleepy?”
    “Hmm.” She’d already closed her eyes.
    “Wynona?”
    She breathed evenly, her head sagging to the side.
    Damn. He wasn’t ready to be alone, was eager to talk, laugh, share, love, but he didn’t want to disturb her.
    With his shaft still inside her sheath, he folded his wings over them, providing more privacy and warmth, and then settled down to nap.

Chapter Six
    Wynona had faked sleep, not knowing what to say after the best lovemaking ever. What she and Rafael had shared wasn’t mindless sex. Their smiles and teasing, the way he’d folded his wings to protect them, had turned the moments surprisingly intimate.
    When other supernaturals had finished screwing her, they’d taken off for their next conquest or had passed out, not caring what she thought or felt.
    She was used to that. This… Her emotions were too raw and unruly now, not knowing where to go. Laughter, tears, fear raged at the same time.
    Rafael was too good for her. A hard notion to admit, but them hooking up would ruin him. If SACS found out about tonight, he couldn’t lie like she could to wiggle out of a bad situation. He’d confess, apologize, and would most likely beg for punishment because he was a decent guy. Surely, they’d clip his wings. She didn’t want to consider what else they’d do to make him an example.
    No way could that happen. She had to convince him a relationship between them was suicidal.
    Round and round she went, searching for a solution until popping sounds awakened her. She rolled over. Rafael’s weight no longer confined, her sheath empty once more, abandoned.
    She should have been relieved but couldn’t lie that well to herself. Afraid to open her eyes and learn he’d left, she patted the sheets on his side. Empty and cool.
    Another pop rang out.
    She struggled to her elbows, inhaled deeply at the effort, and stilled at the bacon scent. And cinnamon rolls? She sniffed again. Yeah.
    She shoved back her hair and pushed up. Rafael tended to two skillets on the stove, brandishing her spatula like a Food Network expert. Fried onion and potato scents wafted toward her.
    His musk smelled better. He hadn’t dressed, his glutes rock hard, flexing with each move, his broad back potently male. Two creases ran down either side of his spine, nearly invisible, the only indication he had wings inside.
    She ached to see, touch, and explore them.
    No, no, no. They had no future. She had no right. Why had he come back? Clearly, he’d left to get food, since she didn’t have anything in the fridge except microwaveable crap. No fuss, no muss, no taste.
    A fresh set of his clothes hung from her garment rack, this place too small for a closet. His pants were navy, shirt pearl gray. He’d even brought another pair of boxer briefs and socks.
    His feet were deliciously large with long toes.
    Wynona figured she’d need years to explore him with her mouth, tongue, and hands. There was simply too much good stuff to enjoy. She wished he hadn’t combed and tied back his hair. Loose was better, tousled was staggering.
    He opened the oven door and bent at the waist, peering inside. His cock swung back and forth, an erotic pendulum. Finished, he straightened, turned to her, and smiled. Pleasure filled his eyes. They crinkled at the corners with his widening grin.
    She left the bed and turned off the burners and oven.
    He sobered quickly. “What’s wrong? You’re not hungry?”
    Starved was more like it. She wanted to laugh at her absurd feelings. Better that than cry. She sank to her knees, gripping his narrow hips. “Ravenous.”
    Some might say insatiable when it came to him.
    Unable to wait a second longer, she buried her