Mine to Crave (Mine #4)(36)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Jasmine let go of Drake. He reached for the other man and hauled the guy through the driver’s side window. But when Victor’s feet touched the cement, the guy’s right leg crumbled. Definitely broken.

So Drake put the jerk in a fireman’s carry even as he locked one hand around Jasmine’s wrist. They ran forward, as fast as they could as the flames grew behind them.

As he looked ahead, Drake saw the flashing lights of police cars rushing down the street.

The cops would be there in moments.

A boom sounded behind him. The blast knocked Drake off his feet, and he hit the ground.

“Get…her…out…Get Jazz…” Victor had crashed right along with him. Jasmine was on her knees beside Drake. “Before the cops…come…get her…”

The SUV was blazing behind them. The men who’d attacked Jasmine and Victor were long gone, and now the FBI agent wanted him to help a supposedly wanted woman escape?

Since that had been his plan all along, Drake rose and pulled Jasmine with him.

“But you need help,” Jasmine said as she stared down at the injured man. “Victor, your leg—”

“I’ll come to you, Jazz. Just…go!”

She turned with Drake and they ran for his car. In seconds, they were inside the vehicle and racing away from the blaze. The heaving sound of their breaths filled the car. When Drake glanced in his rear-view mirror, he saw smoke and flames and the blue lights of patrol cars.

He sped up and turned hard to the right. He knew these roads—streets usually not traveled by many because this was the side of town that the tourists avoided.

Drake didn’t know if the cops were following him or not, but, either way, he wasn’t going to leave a trail for them.

Jasmine’s hands were clenched in her lap. She didn’t speak, and small shivers shook her body every few moments.

“You should…you should probably drop me off somewhere,” she finally said, her words hushed.

What?

“That corner looks good.” She pointed.

“I’m not,” Drake snarled out, “dropping you off any place.”

He was taking her back to his casino. Since he had extra security there, he figured it was the safest place in the city. “I’m just…I’m trouble you don’t want.”

“If I didn’t want you, do you really think I would’ve followed you from the police station? Do you think I would’ve shot a man for a woman I didn’t want?”

They were hitting the busier streets now. A few more turns, and he was sliding into his private entrance at the Masquerade. He stopped long enough to bark orders to the guards there. Then they were inside the parking garage. He couldn’t get her out of the car and into his private elevator fast enough. When the elevator doors closed behind them and they shot up, heading toward his quarters, he pulled her into his arms.

“Drake, look, I—”

He kissed her. Deep and long and desperately. If those SOBs in the van had taken her, he never would have seen her again. He knew that fact with utter certainty.

His hands sank into her hair as he tilted her head back. Drake felt as if he were starving, as if he’d spent his whole life on the edge of hunger—and she was…everything that he needed.

I’m as bad as Trace and Noah.

No, he was worse. Because he knew that Jasmine was no angel. And he didn’t care.

He turned their bodies, pushing her back against the mirrored wall of the elevator. His aroused c**k thrust against her. He was rock hard for her, and he needed to be in her.

He tore his mouth from hers. Pressed hot kisses to her neck.

Adrenaline heated his blood. Fear. Fury. A deadly combination.

Won’t let her go. No one will take her from me.

Jasmine wasn’t standing docilely in his arms. She arched against him, and her moans and gasps just drove him on.

His hands slid down her body. He caught the snap of her jeans. Yanked those jeans open. Shoved them down her legs. The material got tangled in her shoes, but Jasmine kicked herself free.

“Drake…”

He kissed her again. Kissed her, even as he grabbed the lace of her panties and tore them away.

There was no finesse this time. No seduction. He needed in her.

He needed control. Needed the certainty of knowing that she was his. She was safe.

He lifted her up against the mirror. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did. Drake thrust into her. Deep and long, and the desperate fear finally eased.

But the arousal didn’t. The consuming lust just grew as he withdrew and plunged into her. Again and again. He held her hips tightly, moving her to match his rhythm, forcing her to take all that he had.

She cried out his name, and he felt the clench of her delicate inner muscles around him as she climaxed.

His thrusts grew faster then. He wanted to take and take from her. Take until she realized that he was the one she needed.

The only one.

Her lips pressed lightly to his throat. She kissed him. A delicate, tender caress in the maelstrom of passion that surrounded him.

He came then, with a release so strong that his heart seemed to stop for a moment as the pleasure pulsed through every vein in his body. It swept over him, through him, and it was so good. So incredibly good. He never wanted it to end.

It was as close to paradise as Drake knew he’d ever get.

And she was climaxing again. He heard the quick catch of Jasmine’s breath and felt her stiffen against him. He kept thrusting, drawing out his own pleasure and forcing more pleasure on her.

He always wanted to give Jasmine pleasure.

He wanted to spoil her for any other lovers.

Just me, princess. Always…me.

And that last thought scared the hell out of him because he wasn’t supposed to want any woman that way. Wasn’t supposed to care about her other lovers. Wasn’t supposed to care at all.

But for her…with her…he did.

Jasmine would have no idea just how dangerous that was.

***

Saxon marched into the office that Maxwell had claimed. Maxwell noticed that the guy was moving a bit slower than normal, and…

“You’re missing someone,” Maxwell pointed out.

Saxon’s chin jerked up into the air. “We encountered a problem.”

Maxwell rose and circled around the desk. The scent of the river drifted through the window. “I don’t care about problems. I care about Jasmine.”

Or rather, he cared about silencing the bitch.

His eyes narrowed. “Is that blood on your shirt?” Because it sure as shit looked like blood soaking that shirt near the guy’s shoulder.