Burning Dawn
Page 62
He stepped into her personal space, and she gulped.
“This is not happening,” she said. “I’m not giving permission.”
“I’m not asking.” Her nearness...her scent...her beauty...her temper... It was one punch of lust after another. But...more than that. He admired her. She knew he could destroy her in a physical altercation, and yet she charged at him anyway, demanding her way.
He placed his hands at her temples, such soft, warm skin. She tensed at the moment of contact, but still he closed his eyes.
“I don’t want a bond with you,” she croaked.
“Elin,” he said, smiling for the first time in weeks. “I can taste your lie.” And never had he been so pleased.
Through the connection of flesh against flesh, he swept himself into her mind. He caught a memory-flash of her laughing up at her husband. A male of average height, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a classically handsome face. Her eyes were filled with love and tenderness.
Then a flash of the warrior Orson, calloused hands gripping her shoulders, shaking her.
The images burned away, there one moment, gone the next, mental flames leaving nothing but ash. She was blocking him. Intrepid human. But she was too late. The bond was in place.
Thane broke contact and jolted back, creating distance.
“If you encounter any problems or threats,” he said, “just think of me. Reach for me with your mind as you would reach for me with your hand. I will do the rest.”
“I know,” she grumbled. “Xerxes explained how it’s done.”
Jealousy struck—and struck hard. He breathed in and out with deliberate slowness, hoping to calm. He stoked his desires, instead. The scent of cherries roused his deepest hunger.
“I’m gonna go now,” she said with a tremor, and backed away. Could she sense the change in him?
“Not yet.” He cupped her shoulders, stopping her. “There’s one more thing you need to do.”
Her gaze got caught on his, and they peered at each other, silent, for a long time. The air seemed to thicken, as if they’d just stepped into a sultry midnight bayou. She began to pant. Her pupils dilated.
He rejoiced.
“What?” she finally asked, breathless. “What do I need to do?”
“This.” He yanked her against his body and kissed her.
He didn’t start soft, and he didn’t ease her into it. He thrust his tongue hard and demanded entrance. Surprised—or willing—she opened. He took full advantage, thrusting again and again, taking her mouth the way he wanted to take her body.
She melted against him and moaned his name. Want him. Want him so much. Can’t fight this. Don’t want to fight it anymore.
Her voice drifted through his mind, snapping what little remained of Thane’s control. He devoured her mouth, sucking, biting and thrusting. Basking in all that was Elin. Little mewls escaped the back of her throat.
He cupped her under the thighs and lifted her, fitting her core against his erection. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he whispered. “Anything.” Just don’t leave me.
She gasped, as if she’d heard the words he hadn’t spoken. Maybe she had. He was past the point of caring. All that mattered was what came next. Her needs and his ability to meet them.
A moment passed; she stopped kissing him. He ground his teeth. She wiggled free from his grip, stood, and stepped away from him. He ground his teeth harder. When the back of her knees hit the coffee table, she met his piercing stare. It wasn’t regret that he saw—but passion. She licked her lips...and he began to hope. Slowly, so blessedly slow, she stripped from the waist down.
Lust like he’d never known hit him, and it hurt. But it was the best kind of hurt. She wasn’t leaving him.
He drank in her beauty, trembling with the need to touch her.
Steady. Wait for her direction.
Gaze hooded, she moved around the table, eased onto the couch, and slowly spread her legs. She crooked a finger at him. “Come here.”
A willing slave, he closed the distance, shoving the coffee table out of the way and breaking its legs. He knelt in front of her. With his hands on her knees, he forced her to spread her legs even wider. He fought to retain composure.
Mine. She’s mine. That’s mine.
He’d never tasted a woman—not the way he was currently thinking. He knew some men hated the act, and some loved it. He knew some tolerated it the same way some women tolerated sex, willing to do it to please a partner, but not necessarily enjoying it.
Now, in a daze, almost desperate, fueled by desire, he lowered his head. Hovered, still waiting. “Elin?”
“Do it. Put your mouth on me.”
He slooowly tasted her. His eyes closed, and he savored the feminine flavors that instantly drugged and addicted him. “More,” he said. He took another taste, and another, until he was lapping at her...indulging.
Her exhalations turned shallow. “Yes,” she moaned, hips writhing, seeking more of him. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
Would rather die.
“Die. Yes, I’ll die if you don’t take me all the way.”
He reached up to knead her breasts, but she took one of his hands and sucked a finger into her hot, sweet mouth. He felt the suction all the way to his sac, and jerked, rubbing his erection into the couch. When he next licked her, he was frantic, flicking the tip of his tongue over the little bundle of nerves at her apex, again and again, and she cried out.
“More,” she said, and sucked him harder.
He slid lower, to her entrance, and thrust his tongue in and out, in and out, mimicking the motions of sex. He was so hard he feared he would burst at any second.
“Thane.” She anchored her feet at the edge of the couch and undulated against his mouth. He returned to the bundle of nerves, flicking, flicking, and slid two fingers deep inside her. She was so warm and wet the glide was easy. “Yes!”
My woman likes this. He sucked on her, using the same rhythm as his fingers, and she began to buck against him. Faster and faster. The sounds she made became incomprehensible. It was exquisite nonsense...until she grabbed him by the hair and screamed his name, her inner walls clenching on him.
He was still kissing her when her body stopped twitching. Still kissing her when she sagged against the couch, spent and boneless.
Still kissing her when she stopped sucking his finger and gave him a little push.
“This is not happening,” she said. “I’m not giving permission.”
“I’m not asking.” Her nearness...her scent...her beauty...her temper... It was one punch of lust after another. But...more than that. He admired her. She knew he could destroy her in a physical altercation, and yet she charged at him anyway, demanding her way.
He placed his hands at her temples, such soft, warm skin. She tensed at the moment of contact, but still he closed his eyes.
“I don’t want a bond with you,” she croaked.
“Elin,” he said, smiling for the first time in weeks. “I can taste your lie.” And never had he been so pleased.
Through the connection of flesh against flesh, he swept himself into her mind. He caught a memory-flash of her laughing up at her husband. A male of average height, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a classically handsome face. Her eyes were filled with love and tenderness.
Then a flash of the warrior Orson, calloused hands gripping her shoulders, shaking her.
The images burned away, there one moment, gone the next, mental flames leaving nothing but ash. She was blocking him. Intrepid human. But she was too late. The bond was in place.
Thane broke contact and jolted back, creating distance.
“If you encounter any problems or threats,” he said, “just think of me. Reach for me with your mind as you would reach for me with your hand. I will do the rest.”
“I know,” she grumbled. “Xerxes explained how it’s done.”
Jealousy struck—and struck hard. He breathed in and out with deliberate slowness, hoping to calm. He stoked his desires, instead. The scent of cherries roused his deepest hunger.
“I’m gonna go now,” she said with a tremor, and backed away. Could she sense the change in him?
“Not yet.” He cupped her shoulders, stopping her. “There’s one more thing you need to do.”
Her gaze got caught on his, and they peered at each other, silent, for a long time. The air seemed to thicken, as if they’d just stepped into a sultry midnight bayou. She began to pant. Her pupils dilated.
He rejoiced.
“What?” she finally asked, breathless. “What do I need to do?”
“This.” He yanked her against his body and kissed her.
He didn’t start soft, and he didn’t ease her into it. He thrust his tongue hard and demanded entrance. Surprised—or willing—she opened. He took full advantage, thrusting again and again, taking her mouth the way he wanted to take her body.
She melted against him and moaned his name. Want him. Want him so much. Can’t fight this. Don’t want to fight it anymore.
Her voice drifted through his mind, snapping what little remained of Thane’s control. He devoured her mouth, sucking, biting and thrusting. Basking in all that was Elin. Little mewls escaped the back of her throat.
He cupped her under the thighs and lifted her, fitting her core against his erection. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he whispered. “Anything.” Just don’t leave me.
She gasped, as if she’d heard the words he hadn’t spoken. Maybe she had. He was past the point of caring. All that mattered was what came next. Her needs and his ability to meet them.
A moment passed; she stopped kissing him. He ground his teeth. She wiggled free from his grip, stood, and stepped away from him. He ground his teeth harder. When the back of her knees hit the coffee table, she met his piercing stare. It wasn’t regret that he saw—but passion. She licked her lips...and he began to hope. Slowly, so blessedly slow, she stripped from the waist down.
Lust like he’d never known hit him, and it hurt. But it was the best kind of hurt. She wasn’t leaving him.
He drank in her beauty, trembling with the need to touch her.
Steady. Wait for her direction.
Gaze hooded, she moved around the table, eased onto the couch, and slowly spread her legs. She crooked a finger at him. “Come here.”
A willing slave, he closed the distance, shoving the coffee table out of the way and breaking its legs. He knelt in front of her. With his hands on her knees, he forced her to spread her legs even wider. He fought to retain composure.
Mine. She’s mine. That’s mine.
He’d never tasted a woman—not the way he was currently thinking. He knew some men hated the act, and some loved it. He knew some tolerated it the same way some women tolerated sex, willing to do it to please a partner, but not necessarily enjoying it.
Now, in a daze, almost desperate, fueled by desire, he lowered his head. Hovered, still waiting. “Elin?”
“Do it. Put your mouth on me.”
He slooowly tasted her. His eyes closed, and he savored the feminine flavors that instantly drugged and addicted him. “More,” he said. He took another taste, and another, until he was lapping at her...indulging.
Her exhalations turned shallow. “Yes,” she moaned, hips writhing, seeking more of him. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
Would rather die.
“Die. Yes, I’ll die if you don’t take me all the way.”
He reached up to knead her breasts, but she took one of his hands and sucked a finger into her hot, sweet mouth. He felt the suction all the way to his sac, and jerked, rubbing his erection into the couch. When he next licked her, he was frantic, flicking the tip of his tongue over the little bundle of nerves at her apex, again and again, and she cried out.
“More,” she said, and sucked him harder.
He slid lower, to her entrance, and thrust his tongue in and out, in and out, mimicking the motions of sex. He was so hard he feared he would burst at any second.
“Thane.” She anchored her feet at the edge of the couch and undulated against his mouth. He returned to the bundle of nerves, flicking, flicking, and slid two fingers deep inside her. She was so warm and wet the glide was easy. “Yes!”
My woman likes this. He sucked on her, using the same rhythm as his fingers, and she began to buck against him. Faster and faster. The sounds she made became incomprehensible. It was exquisite nonsense...until she grabbed him by the hair and screamed his name, her inner walls clenching on him.
He was still kissing her when her body stopped twitching. Still kissing her when she sagged against the couch, spent and boneless.
Still kissing her when she stopped sucking his finger and gave him a little push.
