Kiss of Heat

Page 25

“I want you. I need you. I accept you as my mate. What more can I give you that you don’t already have?” She stared at him, her voice ragged, confusion and anger filling her voice. Her love. He sighed roughly. “I’m not asking you for anything more, Sherra,” he finally said in resignation. What right did he have to ask her for shit? “Not anymore.”
She moved slowly away from the door, stepping closer to him before stopping again.
“You’re wanting something I’m not giving,” she whispered. “I want to give it to you, Kane. I swear I do. I want you happy, I want you to know some peace as desperately as I need it for myself. Tell me what you want. Tell me what to do.”
She was gripping her hands in front of her, her fingers twisting together as she stared at him out of those shadowed, pain-ridden eyes. God help him, she had hurt so much in her lifetime. Was it fair that she hurt even a second more than she had to? That she should hurt because of his failure to protect her?
“Sherra…” He whispered her name with bleak sadness. “Come here, baby.” He held his hand out to her slowly. “You don’t have to guess. There’s nothing to tell. I think Taber’s contagious. All those foul moods of his.” He nearly choked on the words.
She shook her head desperately. “Don’t lie to me now,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with anger now.
“Don’t pacify me.”
He reached up to touch her cheek, but allowed his hand to drop to her shoulder instead, covering his own need, his own betraying action.
He tried to smile. “I need you,” he finally whispered. There was no need in making her pain greater at this moment. She gave him what she had, and it was more than he should expect, wasn’t it?
Because of him she had lost their child, had been drugged and cruelly raped and forced to survive in fear for nearly a decade. Because he had failed.
She didn’t want his tenderness, he knew. The gentle touches he would have given her, the soft words. She wanted to be fucked. She wanted the heat eased, wanted to be taken until her orgasm exploded through her body, relieving her of the pain. He could give her this, and if it failed to still his own hungers, then it was his fault, not hers.
“I dreamed of you for so many years,” she whispered then, staring up at him, her eyes dark, creased with pain. “Even though I thought you betrayed me, I ached until I thought I would die from the need. Not the need to be fucked, but the need to be held.” Her voice broke as a shudder racked her body. “I made myself hate, instead of love. I forced those needs so deep inside me that letting them go is as hard as forcing them down was to begin with.”
He stilled, watching her quietly now, hearing the words, seeing the tears in her eyes as she blinked furiously. And hope filled his heart.
“You touch me, and I feel all those defenses cracking…” A small sob filled her voice then. “I feel all those hopes and dreams that almost killed me rising inside me again. And it terrifies me…” A tear dropped down her cheek, a silky track of pain that had his heart clenching. “What do I do?” Her hands pressed against his chest, small fists that thumped against the scars as rage flashed in her eyes. “God damn you, Kane, what do I do if I lose you again? How will I survive loving you this fucking much, more than I ever did before, if I lose you?”
Joy ripped through his soul as he stared back at her in disbelief. It was all there now, filling her eyes, as surely as the pain, confusion and emotion filled them. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks as he reached up slowly, his fingertips touching them hesitantly as she held firm. She didn’t flinch. Her eyes fluttered in pleasure as he smoothed the dampness away, her breath hitching as she stared back at him. Loved him.
“I loved you then, but never as much as I love you now,” he whispered. “I knew what it was like to lose you, to believe there was no hope, no chance of ever touching you again, of feeling your warmth or your kiss. And even then, I fought for you. I fought your battle, and in the darkest dreams I raged at the loss. Until I saw you in the darkness, heard your voice, saw your eyes and I breathed again.” His voice rasped from his throat as he fought back his own tears. “I die inside when I awake alone, always wondering if I dreamed you. If you were never really there. My first glimpse of you each morning is like a little slice of heaven. But I need more, Sherra.” His thumb pressed against her lips, holding back her response until he could finish. “I need your heart. I need the same bond from you that I give to you. I can’t live on hopes. Not like this.”
“I love you,” she sobbed. “What more do you want?”
“No more running.” He gripped her shoulders, forcing himself to lighten his hold, his desperation. “No
more fucking denials, Sherra. No more separate beds or hiding. All or nothing. I want it all.”
“What the hell do you think I’m trying to give you, asshole?” She snarled in his face then, her canines flashing in warning as she growled the words. “Do you want me to take out a fucking ad or something?”
“I could handle that.” He tilted his head as though considering the suggestion, holding back his smile, his laughter. His joy. “It would be a start.”
Her eyes narrowed, anger flashing hot and deep an instant before she drew back her fist. He caught it just as quickly, laughed then pulled her to him. His lips covered hers as a strangled gasp left them. She was soft, delicate, her flesh warm and as tempting as sin itself as he moved quickly, lifting her to him as he fell back on the bed, pulling her along his body as his lips ate at hers, and she followed suit with a hunger that matched his own.
Kane flattened his hands, running them down the silk of the caftan to her hips. There, he bunched the material, pulling it up along her legs as they tangled with his, desperate to feel her naked flesh against him. His lips fought for supremacy of their kiss, for once he didn’t give a damn about that fucking hormone. She was his. Finally. Completely. Fuck that damned hormone.
His tongue plunged past her lips instead, tangling with hers, growling warningly when she tried to take control of the kiss. His hands moved to the neckline of the caftan, gripping the material and ripping it with a savage rend as he bore her to her back on the bed.
He struggled for control. He wanted it to last. He wanted her so damned hot, so out of her mind with the pleasure that she allowed him to love her. Allowed him to touch her, stroke her as he longed to. She stared up at him, her cheeks flushed, her green eyes glittering now with excitement rather than pain as he rose over her, pulling the ruined gown from her body as he gazed at the skin he uncovered. A light blush covered the smooth mounds of her swollen breasts. He ran the backs of the fingers of one hand over the nearest curve and almost trembled at the heat pouring off her as her nipples hardened further.
The soft, dark pink tips were elongated, stiff with her arousal and a tempting treat that spiked his already voracious appetite. His cock throbbed with the demand that he take her now, but his heart screamed out that he touch her first. He only wished the physical was what drove him. He longed to touch more than her soft breasts or her silken lips—he needed to touch her soul.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he lowered his head, smoothing his cheek over the curve of her breast until his lips raked the sensitive nipple. Her gasp of pleasure shook him.
“You’re trying to tease me.” She arched against him, her breathing rough and deep as he smoothed his hand along her trembling stomach to her parted thighs.
“Just trying?” he whispered as his lips smoothed over the satin delicacy of her breast. “I thought you could recognize clear intent when you saw it, sweetheart.”
Her soft laughter was more a gasp as his tongue licked over her nipple. His hand smoothed to her inner thigh, coming close but never touching the syrupy-slick mound between her thighs.
“I want to taste every inch of you.” His lips kissed over her breast, up her collarbone. “You’re so sweet, so delicate and so damned hot you nearly burn me alive.”
“What do you think you do to me?” Her voice was rough, husky from the pleasure he knew was moving through her.
“Let’s get hotter,” he growled an instant before his lips covered hers again. Moans and hot little cries escaped their throats as Kane moved her to her back, coming over her, glorying in her touch. She no longer just accepted his lust, his hunger, she battled with it, met it, matched it. Her hands roved over his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin as he moaned at the pleasure. His lips caressed her jaw, her cheek, smoothing over the fine skin as his fingers moved between her thighs. She was wet and hot for him, the sensitive folds of flesh parting easily as his fingers slid between them. Her hips rose, pressing her swollen clit into his fingers a second before he slid lower, testing the honeyed entrance to her vagina before moving back and circling her straining clit once again. Sherra’s hands gripped his shoulders, her neck arched, perspiration dewing her body as she rubbed against him. He closed his eyes at the pleasure of feeling her breasts stroking over his chest as she rubbed against him, her hands moving over his shoulders, her body undulating beneath him. He fought to keep his movements slow and easy, to soothe even as he aroused her, to make her aware of every cell in her body reaching out to him. He could feel her now. In each caress of her hands over his back, the arch of her against him, the way she rubbed against him like the little cat she was. He could feel her acceptance clear to his soul.
His lips tracked every soft inch of her face, her neck, her breasts, watching as her skin flushed, her breathing becoming ragged before he moved lower.
Kane spread her thighs slowly, staring in wonder at the light pink and cream of her flesh there. Breeds were hairless on their genitals, and he had never seen anything as arousing as the silken lips of her pussy parted for him, the darker blush of the inner flesh, a passion fruit he had been addicted to since the first taste.
He stretched out between her spread thighs, staring up at her as he gave her a wicked smile. “My midnight snack—hot, wet kitty.”
She blushed deeper. Kane would have laughed in sheer delight if he weren’t so aroused he had to fight for every second of control. His fingers slid over the thick layer of juices that gathered there. Like warm syrup, it clung to his fingers and sensitized the tips.
“I’m not going to be able to stand this,” she warned him weakly as her hands fell to the bed, clenching the blanket beneath her.
“Then we’ll go insane together,” he growled, reaching out to grip her fist and unlock her fingers from the material.
Watching her closely, he moved her hand to her breast, seeing the surprise that filled her gaze.
“Touch your breasts,” he ordered huskily. “I want to watch your fingers playing with your nipples. I want to hear your pleasure, your excitement, Sherra. Give me that much, at least.
Her hands cupped the smooth globes of her breasts, her fingers moving to her hard nipples as his cock jerked at the erotic sight.
Watching her, his gaze going from her self-exploration to her darkening eyes, he lowered his head. She jerked, a whimper escaping her lips as his tongue swiped through the glistening cream that lay heavy on her swollen cunt. She tasted like midnight and dreams, he thought. Elusive and ever-changing. He hummed his appreciation, his hands holding her thighs wide, his thumbs further parting the plump lips as he settled down for a feast of the senses.
He licked and lapped, circled her little clit and sucked at it strongly as her cries began to rise in volume. Her hips twisted, writhed beneath the pleasure, and soon he was tightening in his own raging need as he heard her crying out his name, begging for her release.
He moved lower, his tongue plunging into the velvet recess of her vagina as her cries escalated. Her knees were bent now, thighs spread wide, her hands on his head as she held him to her, her hips undulating, pressing her pussy against his devouring mouth as she fought for her orgasm.