A Touch of Crimson

Page 18

“Are you saying you’ve done this before?” Jealousy ate at her, cooling her blood. “I thought you’d grow fangs if you got some.”
His mouth curved in a purely male smile. “There’s only you, neshama. You alone bring out this side of me.”
She had no idea what he’d just called her, but it struck a deep chord with her, and the way his voice sounded when he said it gave her butterflies. “Adrian . . . Shit. I’m going to burn in hell for this.”
“For leaning against a wall?” He licked erotically into her ear. “No, you won’t.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing,” she protested, even as she couldn’t seem to find the will to push him away. Not when one of his wickedly talented hands was sliding into her pants while the other was pushing up her camisole and baring her chest.
“This was inevitable. We are inevitable.” His gaze lifted to look into her dazed eyes. “You know it.”
“Why aren’t you afraid?”
“I’m more afraid of not having you than of paying for the privilege.” He cupped her possessively through the lace of her thong.
Her head fell back, all resistance leaving her as his finger teased along the sensitive crease of her thigh where skin met the edge of lace. There was a vibrating anxiety inside her, a piercing hunger and longing that scared her more than the ramifications of what they were doing. The steamy sensuality that clung to him enveloped her, stoking her desire until she couldn’t think for wanting him. She wanted his touch so badly—craved it.
Adrian supported her spine in the cradle of one large hand and arched her toward him. She held her breath, waiting. He blew a cool stream of air over her puckered nipple, and the light constriction of her thong disappeared along with the garment itself. His hot, wet tongue stroked across her at the same moment his fingertips parted her and stroked across her clitoris. She shuddered violently and cried out, so damn turned on she thought she might combust. She was feverish, damp with sweat and the slickness of her arousal.
He gave a rumbling sound of approval. “Soft and wet. And waxed. Nothing to get in the way while I eat you for hours.”
Not wax. Laser. But why argue? He liked it. And she liked that he liked it. She also liked the feel of his feather-light touch circling the trembling entrance to her body, and his tongue fluttering over her hardened nipple. She liked the way his wings curved nearly to the wall, forming a shield of white that made her feel safe and protected. Cherished.
Reaching up, Lindsay ran her hands through the thick strands of his black hair. She lifted one leg and slung it around his hip, opening herself further. “Touch me,” she gasped, writhing as his cheeks hollowed with a quick tug on her breast.
“I am.” His breath gusted warmly over the cooling wetness left from his mouth.
She growled.
Two long, elegant fingers pushed inside her. “Is this what you want?”
Pulling herself up with a grip at his nape, she took his mouth, ravishing it; then she nipped along his jaw down to his throat. Her lips parted over his throbbing pulse, her tongue stroking over it, plumping the thick vein. Then she raked her teeth across it.
He groaned, catching her with an arm around her back. “You’re so fucking hot. You’re driving me insane.”
Her hips pumped and circled, riding his fingers. She tossed his words back at him. “Get me off. Make me come.”
Adrian’s mouth slanted across hers. His thumb pressed against her throbbing clitoris, massaging it with every plunge of his fingers. She sobbed her pleasure into his mouth, her short nails digging into the rock-hard muscles of his shoulders. He caught her tongue and sucked on it, making her sex clench hard on his working hand.
The silky soft stroke of his chest hair across her aching nipples was killing her, finishing the job begun by his tenderness. Everything about the way he touched her was reverent. Worshipful. Even in the midst of the rawest sexual encounter she’d ever had, she felt like it was all about her. About being with her in every intimate way possible.
The orgasm hit her like lightning. She quaked in his arms, climaxing violently, the delicate tissues of her sex rippling along wickedly knowledgeable fingers that curved and rubbed in a way that kept her coming.
Lindsay could only hold on to him, tears squeezing past tightly closed eyelids. Her panting breaths exchanged with his. All the while he kissed her as if he’d die if he didn’t.
She’d barely stopped shaking when his fingers left her and she was lifted against him—naked, her clothes gone the way of his . . . wherever that was. Entwined, they spun in a controlled rush; then the cool surface of the dining table was beneath her buttocks and she was reaching back, propping her torso up with her arms canted behind her. Adrian pushed her knee aside with one hand and took his cock in hand with the other. The broad crown was tucked against her.
His eyes, shimmering with raging blue flames, stared into hers. “I’ve been starving for you, neshama sheli.”
She’d barely sucked in the shaky breath required to ask him what he said when he began the hot, hard slide into her, pushing her to lie back, blanketing her with the scorching heat of his body. Writhing to accommodate him, she gripped his hips, trying to slow the relentless stretching impalement.
“Jesus—” She gasped, her back arching. “Why the hell are you built like a porn star if you’re not allowed to have sex!”
His laugh swept over her, leaving goose bumps in its wake. It was such a rich, deep sound—infinitely beautiful and soul stirring. Her heart swelled as if she lived and breathed to hear that sound from him.
He sank to the root, touching the end of her. His wings extended and flexed luxuriously, reminding her of the sensual stretching of a well-fed feline. Their eyes met and held; so did their breaths. He cupped her face in that breathless moment, staring at her in a way that melted her.
“Ani ohev otach, Lindsay,” he whispered, before taking her mouth and filling her burning lungs with his exhalation. He rotated his hips, sinking a fraction deeper. She swore she felt every inch—every ridged vein and every beat of his pounding heart.
She held his nape with one hand, licking across his lips, shaken by the absolute surety that she was right where she’d always longed to be and hadn’t known it. “Adrian, I—”
The sound of resonating chimes froze her. And him.
They clung to each other, breathing hard, his penis a thick, throbbing presence inside her. The full import of what she was doing and who she was doing it with hit her like a deluge of ice water.
The sound came again, followed by a brusque knocking. A damn doorbell.
She gasped a sound of relief, then whimpered as Adrian began to withdraw. His gaze never left her as he pulled out with aching slowness and a tightly clenched jaw. The moment he fell heavily from her body, she scrambled from the table and ran to her bedroom.
He redressed her in her pajamas before she slammed the door shut, but nothing so simple as clothes could make her feel less raw and exposed.
CHAPTER 13
Adrian pushed shaking hands through his hair to straighten it before looking into the oval foyer mirror. Although the sleeveless Asian-style tunic he’d summoned fell to his midthigh and hid his erection, his flushed face and bright eyes, along with lips swollen by Lindsay’s fervency, betrayed his mortal weakness.
He stared at his reflection, regulating his breathing and willing his countenance into the tight, austere lines he was expected to present. He tucked his wings away, knowing they’d betray his roiling emotions as surely as his gaze did.
The bell rang a third time, followed by another round of knocking. He yanked on the levered handle of one of the double doors, then walked away as the door began its automated glide back into a locked position. As he crossed the room, he mentally crushed some of the most fragrant flowers in the massive floral arrangements scattered about the vast suite. The cloying scents couldn’t hide the lush smell of sex from the powerful nostrils of an angel, but at least he could show respect by making the effort.
“Captain,” Jason greeted him in a slow, knowing drawl.
“You have news for me?” He went into the kitchen and washed his hands, rinsing away the now beloved smell of Lindsay’s desire. His blood still raged from the remembered feel of her body’s tight hot clasp. That bright moment of connection would have shattered him if she hadn’t made him laugh, which he hadn’t done in so long he couldn’t recall the last time. He’d forgotten how potent their affinity was. He couldn’t remember it ever scorching him so completely. He felt as if he’d been run through a forge, heated until he was molten, then refashioned into something new and untarnished.
“Where’s Shadoe?”
He turned around, feeling an odd agitation at the use of a name he couldn’t yet explain to Lindsay, and found Elijah with Jason. The truth of what he’d been doing before their intrusion wouldn’t escape the notice of a lycan’s more primal instincts. Lindsay’s scent was all over him, and from the flaring of Elijah’s nostrils, the lycan recognized that.
“Lindsay,” Adrian emphasized, “is still recuperating.”
Jason studied him openly. “But she’s been up. She . . . ate.”
“Like a lumberjack.”
“How’s her arm?” Elijah asked, his face studiously impassive.
“Healing nicely.”
“Good.” The lycan gave a brisk nod of satisfaction.
Adrian crossed his arms, appraising Elijah. There was no longer any doubt the lycan was an Alpha, not after watching him with the other lycans when they cleaned out the Hurricane nest. Also no doubt he was dangerous—his inherent dominance and ability to draw other lycans into following his lead could only result in trouble. For now, however, he was committed to Lindsay. She’d saved his hide—more than once, he said. He would repay that debt by protecting her with his life and, right now, that was just the level of loyalty Adrian needed to keep her safe.
“I just wanted to check with you,” Jason began, moving to the dining table, “about our plans to head back up to Utah tomorrow. Is that timeline still doable?”
“I said it was.” Adrian’s voice was low and smooth, but he had to make a concerted effort not to clench his fists as Jason paused before the very spot where he’d been buried inside Lindsay just moments earlier. “Six o’clock sharp I want to be on the road.”
“Okay.” Jason set his hand on the table and looked at him. “Helena’s in Vegas. She wants to see you.”
“I’ll meet with her as soon as I change. Elijah, stay with Lindsay.”
Adrian headed toward his bedroom on the opposite side of the living area from Lindsay’s. He closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling harshly before picking up the phone and hitting the button that connected him to her room.
It took her a long time to answer. “Hello?”
“Linds . . . Are you okay?”
She sighed. “No. I’m pretty far from okay.”
His eyes closed. Her embarrassment and confusion were tangible. “I have to go out. Elijah will stay with you. When I get back, you and I will talk.”
“All right.”
“If you need or want anything while I’m gone, charge it to the room.”
“Oh god.” She groaned. “Please don’t buy me off.”
“Wouldn’t think of it. You’re priceless.”
There was another long pause. When her voice came again, it was laced with steel. “You’re right, Adrian. You can’t afford me. The price is too high. I won’t let you pay it.”
He looked at the closed door and cursed under his breath. She needed his attention and reassurance after what they’d just shared, but with the others here he could do nothing to soothe her. There were things he couldn’t yet say, but could show her, if only they had privacy. “We’ll talk when I get back,” he said again.
“Be careful.”
“Stay out of trouble.” Adrian returned the receiver to the cradle and pushed to his feet. The sooner he took care of business, the sooner he could return to Lindsay.
Lindsay took a second shower. When she came out of the bathroom, there was another outfit laid out on the bed. This one was on a hanger and covered by a boutique’s protective bag. She revealed the garment inside, finding the outrageously priced tags still attached. It was a beautiful ensemble, with chocolate-hued palazzo pants paired with a multihued turquoise and gold shell. Expensive and elegant, so suited to Adrian’s taste.A makeup case sat beside it, filled with brand-new MAC makeup. And lying innocuously on the bed beneath it all was a money envelope branded with the hotel’s logo, filled with a two-inch-thick stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills.
She ran her hands down her face with a groan. She was in so far over her head she was drowning. Adrian was too much for her. She couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle him. The looks he gave her, the way he spoke to her and touched her . . . whatever the hell they were doing wasn’t a fling for him. And no matter what she said, no matter how hard she tried, he was determined to have her at any cost.
She dressed and made herself presentable, then settled into the seat Adrian had occupied earlier and called her dad.
“Eddie Gibson, Gibson Automotive,” he answered.
“Hey, Dad.” She heard the whirring of air tools in the background, and her throat tightened with homesickness. Her father didn’t know about the darker aspects of her life, but he knew she was unusual and he loved her unconditionally anyway. “It’s me. Sorry I didn’t call sooner.”
“Hey, baby. Are you feeling better?” His beloved voice was gruff with concern.
Frowning, she asked, “Better? Yes, I feel good. Great, actually.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” A relieved sigh crossed the line between them. “I was worried when I couldn’t get ahold of you. Every time I tried your cell, it went straight to voice mail.”