Charmed
Page 43
She felt invincible, immortal, impossibly free. Her body was alive, never more alive, with heat pumping crazily through her blood. The world was spinning around her, a blur of color and blinding lights, whirling faster, faster, until she was forced to grip the pickets of the banister to keep from falling off the edge of the earth.
Her knuckles whitened against the wood as he tore her slacks away, then the thin swatch of lace beneath. His mouth, oh, his mouth, greedy, frantic, fevered. Ana bit back a scream as he sent her flying into hot, airless space.
Her mindless murmurs were in no language he could understand, but he knew he had taken her beyond the boundaries of the sane, of the rational. He wanted her there, right there with him as they catapulted into the madness of vivid, lawless passion.
He'd waited. He'd waited. Now her slim white body bucked. A thoroughbred ready to ride. Quivering like a stallion, he mounted her, driving himself into that wet, waiting heat. She arched to meet him and, hips moving like lightning, raced with him into the roaring dark.
Her hands slid weakly off his damp back. She was too numb to feel the slap of wood against them as they fell against the stairs. She wanted to hold him, but her strength was gone. It wasn't possible to focus her mind on what had happened. All that came were flashes of sensations, bursts of emotions.
If this was the darker side of love, nothing could have prepared her for it. If this terrible need was what had lived inside him, she couldn't comprehend how he could have strapped it back for so long.
For her sake. She turned her damp face into his throat. All for her sake.
Beneath his still-shuddering body, she was as limp as water. Boone struggled to get a grip on reality. He needed to move. After everything else he'd done to her, he was probably crushing her. But when he started to shift, she made a little sound of distress that scraped at his conscience.
"Here, baby, let me help you."
He eased away, picking up a tattered sleeve of her blouse with some idea to cover her. Biting off an oath, he tossed it down again. She'd turned slightly on her side, obviously seeking some kind of comfort. For God's sake, he thought in disgust, he'd taken her like some kind of fiend, and on the stairs. On the stairs .
"Ana." He found what was left of his own shirt and tried to wrap it around her shoulders. "Anastasia, I don't know how to explain."
"Explain?" The word was barely audible. Her throat was wild with thirst.
"There's no possible… Let me help you up." Her body slid like wax through his arms. "I'll get you some clothes, or… Oh, hell."
"I don't think I can get up." She moistened her lips, and tasted him. "Not for a day or two. This is fine, though. I'll just stay right here."
Frowning at her, he tried to interpret what he heard in her voice. It wasn't anger. It didn't sound like distress. It sounded like—very much like—satisfaction. "You're not upset?"
"Hmmm? Am I supposed to be?"
"Well, for… I practically attacked you. Hell, I did attack you, almost taking you in the front seat of the car, tearing off your clothes, dragging you in here and devouring what was left of you on the stairs."
With her eyes still closed, she drew in a deep breath, then let it out again on a sigh through curved lips. "You certainly did. And it's the first time I've been devoured. I don't think I'll ever go up and down a staircase the same way again."
Gently he tipped a finger under her chin until her eyes opened. "I had intended to at least make it to the bedroom."
"I guess we'll get there eventually." Recognizing concern, she put a hand on his wrist. "Boone, do you think I could be upset because you wanted me that much?"
"I thought you might be upset because this wasn't what you're used to."
Making the effort, she sat up, wincing a little at the aches that would surely be bruises before much longer. "I'm not made of glass. There's no way we could love each other that wouldn't be right. But…" She linked her arms around his neck and her smile was wicked around the edges. "Under the circumstances, I'm glad we made it into the house."
He skimmed his hands down to her hips for the pleasure of bringing her body against his. "My neighbor's very open-minded."
"I've heard that." Experimentally she caught his lower lip between her teeth. Remembering how much pleasure it gave her to feel his lips cruise over her face and throat, she began a lazy journey over his. "Fortunately, my neighbor's very understanding of passions. I doubt anything would shock him. Even if I told him I often fantasize about him at night, when I'm alone, in bed."
It was impossible, but he felt himself stir against her. The deep, dark wanting began to smolder again. "Really? What kind of fantasies?"
"Of having him come to me." Her breath began to quicken as his mouth roamed over her shoulder. "Come to my bed like an incubus in the night, when a storm cracks the air. I can see his eyes, cobalt blue in a flash of lightning, and I know that he wants me the way no one else ever has, or ever will."
Knowing very well that if he didn't take some kind of action now they'd remain sprawled on the stairs, he gathered her up. "I can't give you the lightning."
She smiled as he carried her up. "You already have."
Later, hours later, they knelt on the tumbled bed, feasting on pizza by candlelight. Ana had lost track of time and had no need to know if it was midnight or approaching dawn. They had loved and talked and laughed and loved again. No night in her life had been more perfect. What did time matter here?
"Guinevere was no heroine." Ana licked sauce from her fingers. They had discussed epic poetry, modern animation, ancient legends and folklore and classic horror. She wasn't sure how they had wound their way back to Arthur and Camelot, but on the subject of Arthur's queen, Ana stood firm. "And she certainly wasn't a tragic figure."
"I'd think a woman, especially one with your compassion, would have more sympathy with her situation." Boone debated having a last piece from the cardboard box they'd plopped in the center of the bed.
"Why?" Ana picked it up herself and began to feed it to him. "She betrayed her husband, helped bring down a kingdom, all because she was weak-willed and self-indulgent."
"She was in love."
Her knuckles whitened against the wood as he tore her slacks away, then the thin swatch of lace beneath. His mouth, oh, his mouth, greedy, frantic, fevered. Ana bit back a scream as he sent her flying into hot, airless space.
Her mindless murmurs were in no language he could understand, but he knew he had taken her beyond the boundaries of the sane, of the rational. He wanted her there, right there with him as they catapulted into the madness of vivid, lawless passion.
He'd waited. He'd waited. Now her slim white body bucked. A thoroughbred ready to ride. Quivering like a stallion, he mounted her, driving himself into that wet, waiting heat. She arched to meet him and, hips moving like lightning, raced with him into the roaring dark.
Her hands slid weakly off his damp back. She was too numb to feel the slap of wood against them as they fell against the stairs. She wanted to hold him, but her strength was gone. It wasn't possible to focus her mind on what had happened. All that came were flashes of sensations, bursts of emotions.
If this was the darker side of love, nothing could have prepared her for it. If this terrible need was what had lived inside him, she couldn't comprehend how he could have strapped it back for so long.
For her sake. She turned her damp face into his throat. All for her sake.
Beneath his still-shuddering body, she was as limp as water. Boone struggled to get a grip on reality. He needed to move. After everything else he'd done to her, he was probably crushing her. But when he started to shift, she made a little sound of distress that scraped at his conscience.
"Here, baby, let me help you."
He eased away, picking up a tattered sleeve of her blouse with some idea to cover her. Biting off an oath, he tossed it down again. She'd turned slightly on her side, obviously seeking some kind of comfort. For God's sake, he thought in disgust, he'd taken her like some kind of fiend, and on the stairs. On the stairs .
"Ana." He found what was left of his own shirt and tried to wrap it around her shoulders. "Anastasia, I don't know how to explain."
"Explain?" The word was barely audible. Her throat was wild with thirst.
"There's no possible… Let me help you up." Her body slid like wax through his arms. "I'll get you some clothes, or… Oh, hell."
"I don't think I can get up." She moistened her lips, and tasted him. "Not for a day or two. This is fine, though. I'll just stay right here."
Frowning at her, he tried to interpret what he heard in her voice. It wasn't anger. It didn't sound like distress. It sounded like—very much like—satisfaction. "You're not upset?"
"Hmmm? Am I supposed to be?"
"Well, for… I practically attacked you. Hell, I did attack you, almost taking you in the front seat of the car, tearing off your clothes, dragging you in here and devouring what was left of you on the stairs."
With her eyes still closed, she drew in a deep breath, then let it out again on a sigh through curved lips. "You certainly did. And it's the first time I've been devoured. I don't think I'll ever go up and down a staircase the same way again."
Gently he tipped a finger under her chin until her eyes opened. "I had intended to at least make it to the bedroom."
"I guess we'll get there eventually." Recognizing concern, she put a hand on his wrist. "Boone, do you think I could be upset because you wanted me that much?"
"I thought you might be upset because this wasn't what you're used to."
Making the effort, she sat up, wincing a little at the aches that would surely be bruises before much longer. "I'm not made of glass. There's no way we could love each other that wouldn't be right. But…" She linked her arms around his neck and her smile was wicked around the edges. "Under the circumstances, I'm glad we made it into the house."
He skimmed his hands down to her hips for the pleasure of bringing her body against his. "My neighbor's very open-minded."
"I've heard that." Experimentally she caught his lower lip between her teeth. Remembering how much pleasure it gave her to feel his lips cruise over her face and throat, she began a lazy journey over his. "Fortunately, my neighbor's very understanding of passions. I doubt anything would shock him. Even if I told him I often fantasize about him at night, when I'm alone, in bed."
It was impossible, but he felt himself stir against her. The deep, dark wanting began to smolder again. "Really? What kind of fantasies?"
"Of having him come to me." Her breath began to quicken as his mouth roamed over her shoulder. "Come to my bed like an incubus in the night, when a storm cracks the air. I can see his eyes, cobalt blue in a flash of lightning, and I know that he wants me the way no one else ever has, or ever will."
Knowing very well that if he didn't take some kind of action now they'd remain sprawled on the stairs, he gathered her up. "I can't give you the lightning."
She smiled as he carried her up. "You already have."
Later, hours later, they knelt on the tumbled bed, feasting on pizza by candlelight. Ana had lost track of time and had no need to know if it was midnight or approaching dawn. They had loved and talked and laughed and loved again. No night in her life had been more perfect. What did time matter here?
"Guinevere was no heroine." Ana licked sauce from her fingers. They had discussed epic poetry, modern animation, ancient legends and folklore and classic horror. She wasn't sure how they had wound their way back to Arthur and Camelot, but on the subject of Arthur's queen, Ana stood firm. "And she certainly wasn't a tragic figure."
"I'd think a woman, especially one with your compassion, would have more sympathy with her situation." Boone debated having a last piece from the cardboard box they'd plopped in the center of the bed.
"Why?" Ana picked it up herself and began to feed it to him. "She betrayed her husband, helped bring down a kingdom, all because she was weak-willed and self-indulgent."
"She was in love."
