Primal Bonds
Page 52
She shivered in excitement at the fierceness in his voice. “You can’t by taking me to Faerie. That’s crazy, Sean.”
“I’d rather take you than have you run off there by yourself.” He growled low in his throat, that mate protectiveness rearing again.
Andrea put her hands on her hips. “You’re going to start arguing with me again about me wanting to work at the bar, aren’t you?”
“’Tis dangerous. I’m not wrong about that.”
“We’ve been through this. I know it’s dangerous, but you can’t lock me away. You told me that I had the freedom to do what I wanted here, that I had freedom I didn’t have in my old Shiftertown. You can’t have it both ways.”
More growling, but his eyes stayed human blue, which meant he wasn’t as enraged as he’d been. Something had warmed between them, something that wouldn’t be undone. “Fine,” he said. “Work. Enjoy yourself.” His powerful hands went to her shoulders. “But no more dirty dancing with anyone but me.”
She smiled. “Jealous, were you?”
“You make my blood hot, sweetheart. I wanted to rip you away from him and break his neck.” He cupped her head in his hands, strong fingers on the back of her neck. “I want you so bad it’s f**king me up inside.” He smiled, a tall and virile Shifter male.
His kiss bit deep, stirring the fires that would never die inside her. Dancing tonight had been for Sean, not just for the joy of moving to the music. Yes, to tease him, but also because she wanted him to want her. She’d wanted him, not Ellison, to get up and come to her, to slide behind her and gyrate against her backside. This is what the mating frenzy did—threw caution to the wind.
Andrea’s hands went to his T-shirt, skimming under it to find his heart beating as fast as hers under his hot skin. “So don’t go.”
He shook his head, face pressed against hers. “I won’t leave you alone, unprotected. It’s my job to keep you safe. I can at least do my job.”
“While we’re going mad with mating frenzy?”
“I asked Ronan to guard the house. He’s happy to. He should be down on the porch now.”
“Good.” Andrea tugged Sean’s shirt off over his head while his hands went under her shirt, undoing her bra, pushing everything from her skin.
The sword began to sing as they went down on the bed, Sean’s mouth all over her. He kept amazing her, this man who’d claimed her. Wanting to keep her safe yet offering to help her find out who she truly was; fearing to lose her, yet wanting her to understand that she was free. His guilt and sorrow for Kenny tugged at her, making her want to hold him until his hurting went away.
She kissed him as Sean divested her of her pants and clawed out of his own, and then they were body to body, skin to skin, the frenzy winding them hotter and higher. Andrea cried out as he entered her; she was already open for him. Sensation after sensation swamped her, his thrusts spreading her until she twined her legs around his hips.
Sean, my mate. Mate of my heart.
Shifter bodies were made to respond like this, needing to mate until they couldn’t walk. The Fae in her couldn’t eradicate the wanting. Or maybe it was Sean himself who brought out that need in her.
The thought opened her eyes, opened her body, and made her cry his name in climax. Sean came seconds later, his body slick with sweat, his eyes wide and dark blue. The sword sang its joy at their joining, the threads twining within her and with the mate bond. Andrea had no idea whether Sean heard it too, because before she could ask him, he kissed her deeply, pinned her hands above her head, and started loving her all over again.
“These pancakes are great, Sean.” Ronan put his big elbows on the table and shoveled in another mouthful. “Mmm, blueberry. My favorite.”
Sean, at the griddle, ladled batter in a careful circle, filling in the middle as the pancake sizzled. His eyes felt sandy, his temper just as gritty. His mating frenzy hadn’t let him sleep much nor had his worry for Andrea, though he was pleased that her nightmares hadn’t returned last night.
The shower running upstairs told him Andrea was awake ... and wet and soapy and naked. Why Sean was downstairs cooking breakfast for Ronan, he wasn’t sure.
“I know things are tough right now,” Ronan said around bites. “But it’ll work out.”
“Whist, aren’t you the confident one?” Sean said.
“And I know that when you start saying things like whist that you’re pissed off. I’m trying to help. Don’t take it out on me.”
“Sorry. Didn’t sleep well.”
“I know you didn’t. I heard all that crazy, banging makeup sex. You don’t exactly keep it down. Here’s my advice: Just let the mating frenzy take over completely, and you two won’t have time to argue. Or the energy.”
Sean had almost forgotten about what he and Andrea had been mad about last night. Oh, yeah, her at the bar. Ellison. Didn’t seem to matter as much today. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The bathroom door slammed open upstairs, and Sean and Ronan fell silent, Ronan to eat, Sean to cook and fantasize about a wet and naked Andrea.
Andrea came down the stairs in a T-shirt and jeans, her damp hair tousled. “I smell pancakes.”
Ronan held up his last forkful. “Sean’s wicked good with them.”
Sean flipped the batch from the griddle onto a plate and put it on the counter. Andrea smelled good, far better than the pancakes, and the sight of her mussed hair shot his temperature high. Her black ringlets were thin corkscrews against her face and neck, and Sean wanted to burrow among them, licking her still wet skin.
“That’s yours,” he growled, pushing the plate at her.
Andrea took it with a nod and carried the plate to the table. Sean had already laid out butter and syrup, knives and forks, juice and coffee. He was at least good at feeding his bloody stubborn potential mate.
Andrea poured syrup over her pancakes and licked her finger. Sean froze as he watched her catch the sticky drop of syrup on her tongue. His throbbing erection, which had risen when he’d pictured her in the shower, tightened still further.
“That’s the solution, is it?” Andrea asked Ronan as she licked her lips. “Sean and I should have sex until we can’t remember why we’re mad at each other? Or anything else?”
“I’d rather take you than have you run off there by yourself.” He growled low in his throat, that mate protectiveness rearing again.
Andrea put her hands on her hips. “You’re going to start arguing with me again about me wanting to work at the bar, aren’t you?”
“’Tis dangerous. I’m not wrong about that.”
“We’ve been through this. I know it’s dangerous, but you can’t lock me away. You told me that I had the freedom to do what I wanted here, that I had freedom I didn’t have in my old Shiftertown. You can’t have it both ways.”
More growling, but his eyes stayed human blue, which meant he wasn’t as enraged as he’d been. Something had warmed between them, something that wouldn’t be undone. “Fine,” he said. “Work. Enjoy yourself.” His powerful hands went to her shoulders. “But no more dirty dancing with anyone but me.”
She smiled. “Jealous, were you?”
“You make my blood hot, sweetheart. I wanted to rip you away from him and break his neck.” He cupped her head in his hands, strong fingers on the back of her neck. “I want you so bad it’s f**king me up inside.” He smiled, a tall and virile Shifter male.
His kiss bit deep, stirring the fires that would never die inside her. Dancing tonight had been for Sean, not just for the joy of moving to the music. Yes, to tease him, but also because she wanted him to want her. She’d wanted him, not Ellison, to get up and come to her, to slide behind her and gyrate against her backside. This is what the mating frenzy did—threw caution to the wind.
Andrea’s hands went to his T-shirt, skimming under it to find his heart beating as fast as hers under his hot skin. “So don’t go.”
He shook his head, face pressed against hers. “I won’t leave you alone, unprotected. It’s my job to keep you safe. I can at least do my job.”
“While we’re going mad with mating frenzy?”
“I asked Ronan to guard the house. He’s happy to. He should be down on the porch now.”
“Good.” Andrea tugged Sean’s shirt off over his head while his hands went under her shirt, undoing her bra, pushing everything from her skin.
The sword began to sing as they went down on the bed, Sean’s mouth all over her. He kept amazing her, this man who’d claimed her. Wanting to keep her safe yet offering to help her find out who she truly was; fearing to lose her, yet wanting her to understand that she was free. His guilt and sorrow for Kenny tugged at her, making her want to hold him until his hurting went away.
She kissed him as Sean divested her of her pants and clawed out of his own, and then they were body to body, skin to skin, the frenzy winding them hotter and higher. Andrea cried out as he entered her; she was already open for him. Sensation after sensation swamped her, his thrusts spreading her until she twined her legs around his hips.
Sean, my mate. Mate of my heart.
Shifter bodies were made to respond like this, needing to mate until they couldn’t walk. The Fae in her couldn’t eradicate the wanting. Or maybe it was Sean himself who brought out that need in her.
The thought opened her eyes, opened her body, and made her cry his name in climax. Sean came seconds later, his body slick with sweat, his eyes wide and dark blue. The sword sang its joy at their joining, the threads twining within her and with the mate bond. Andrea had no idea whether Sean heard it too, because before she could ask him, he kissed her deeply, pinned her hands above her head, and started loving her all over again.
“These pancakes are great, Sean.” Ronan put his big elbows on the table and shoveled in another mouthful. “Mmm, blueberry. My favorite.”
Sean, at the griddle, ladled batter in a careful circle, filling in the middle as the pancake sizzled. His eyes felt sandy, his temper just as gritty. His mating frenzy hadn’t let him sleep much nor had his worry for Andrea, though he was pleased that her nightmares hadn’t returned last night.
The shower running upstairs told him Andrea was awake ... and wet and soapy and naked. Why Sean was downstairs cooking breakfast for Ronan, he wasn’t sure.
“I know things are tough right now,” Ronan said around bites. “But it’ll work out.”
“Whist, aren’t you the confident one?” Sean said.
“And I know that when you start saying things like whist that you’re pissed off. I’m trying to help. Don’t take it out on me.”
“Sorry. Didn’t sleep well.”
“I know you didn’t. I heard all that crazy, banging makeup sex. You don’t exactly keep it down. Here’s my advice: Just let the mating frenzy take over completely, and you two won’t have time to argue. Or the energy.”
Sean had almost forgotten about what he and Andrea had been mad about last night. Oh, yeah, her at the bar. Ellison. Didn’t seem to matter as much today. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
The bathroom door slammed open upstairs, and Sean and Ronan fell silent, Ronan to eat, Sean to cook and fantasize about a wet and naked Andrea.
Andrea came down the stairs in a T-shirt and jeans, her damp hair tousled. “I smell pancakes.”
Ronan held up his last forkful. “Sean’s wicked good with them.”
Sean flipped the batch from the griddle onto a plate and put it on the counter. Andrea smelled good, far better than the pancakes, and the sight of her mussed hair shot his temperature high. Her black ringlets were thin corkscrews against her face and neck, and Sean wanted to burrow among them, licking her still wet skin.
“That’s yours,” he growled, pushing the plate at her.
Andrea took it with a nod and carried the plate to the table. Sean had already laid out butter and syrup, knives and forks, juice and coffee. He was at least good at feeding his bloody stubborn potential mate.
Andrea poured syrup over her pancakes and licked her finger. Sean froze as he watched her catch the sticky drop of syrup on her tongue. His throbbing erection, which had risen when he’d pictured her in the shower, tightened still further.
“That’s the solution, is it?” Andrea asked Ronan as she licked her lips. “Sean and I should have sex until we can’t remember why we’re mad at each other? Or anything else?”
