With shaking fingers, she loosened her jeans, the muted rasp of the zipper as she drew it down and her shaky breaths strangely erotic against the room’s silence. But rather than peel the denim back, she dipped her fingertips beneath her waistband and teasingly skimmed the flesh underneath.
His gaze flicked to hers, a warning to match his words burning behind his predatory stare. “You’re dancing a dangerous line, kitten. Your claws may not be very sharp, but mine are lethally accurate. If you value those jeans, you’ll get them off your body before they’re in shreds.”
Another dirty lash against her senses, this one leaving no doubt that when she peeled her panties down her legs they’d be soaked in the center. And if he’d meant to hurry her along...well, he’d pushed the wrong button. More like stoked her newfound courage and built a raging blaze.
Slowly, she shimmied her jeans past her hips, but made sure to leave her simple white hipster panties in place. From the front, the silky lace wasn’t all that revealing, but from the back they were cheeky as hell. A fact she couldn’t wait for him to discover. She straightened as she spoke, stepped out of her jeans and kicked them aside. “What about your teeth? Will you use them on me, too?”
A growl rumbled up his throat, part panther, part man. Though, both seemed to be fighting for the upper hand. “Oh, you’ll get my bite. Right about the time your pussy clamps down on my cock. Now lose the panties.”
A sassy Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir almost slipped past her lips, but the greedy woman who relished the reins nestled in her grip quashed the smart-ass quip before it could air and peeled the lacy fabric down her thighs.
Oh, yes. She was slick and ready for him. Drenched. A fact driven home by the glistening wetness in her discarded panties.
Apparently, her mate didn’t need the visual, because he gripped the armrests hard enough they groaned and his nostrils flared. He licked his lower lip and practically snarled, “I can smell you.”
It shouldn’t have turned her on. Wouldn’t have with anyone else. But with Priest it was glorious. A primitive testament to her impact on the beast eyeing its next conquest. “You’d smell it better if you were closer.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “I’ll do more than smell it. I’m going to eat it. Lick every damned drop and tongue you until you come and give me more.”
“Okay,” she whispered, the precursor to what promised to be an earthquake-sized release rippling between her legs.
He grinned and cocked his head, his expression far too perceptive. “Did you touch yourself this morning?”
Boy, had she. Both when she’d woken up and again in the shower. Though nothing she’d done had sparked the same response he manifested in her dreams. “Yes.”
“Show me.”
Another rung on the ladder. The next flight up on the death-defying swan dive he seemed hell-bent on facilitating. But she’d done this much. Had pushed him to the point he looked as if he might launch himself at her any second. And more, she’d found a level of confidence she’d never dreamed of owning. A stunning and self-assured sexuality that burned hot as an August sun. What better way to own what she felt and who she was than right now? Here, with her own two hands.
Fingers trembling, she started at her hips, the touch cool despite the fire licking beneath her skin. She let her eyes slip shut and her head drop back, the delicate caress of her hands along her rib cage and then cupping her breasts leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“Is that really what you want?” he said. “How you want me to touch them?”
“No,” she groaned, the answer the easiest one he’d asked of her all night. She forced her heavy eyelids open. “It’s not the same.” She lifted and gently squeezed each mound, remembering how his touch had felt in her dreams. Wondered how reality would be in comparison. “My hands are too small. Not as strong or as rough as yours.” Or as confident, though she refused to admit as much out loud.
He rose and prowled toward her, the power contained in every step that of a man not only close to the edge, but eager to cross it. His big hands splayed along the upper curve of her hips, the heat branding her as sure as his words. “Are you ready for that, mihara? Ready to be claimed?”
God, that word. It should have made her run. At least generated a host of arguments. Instead, a tremor wiggled down her spine and her shoulders pressed back in invitation as the traitorous truth slipped free. “Yes.”
One second. Maybe not even that long, and he cupped her breasts, molding and shaping the taut mounds the way he had in her dreams. Only this was so much better. Hotter. Harder. The difference between sunshine slanting through a closed, dust-covered window and standing unobstructed beneath a brilliant afternoon sun.
And his mouth. Thought wasn’t possible with this kiss. This battle he waged with his lips and tongue. Expelling what little tie she had to reality and laying to waste the last fragments of her fears. The only play left to make was surrender, and she gave it. Willingly. Eagerly.
She slipped her fingers beneath his shirt and moaned at the hard, hot flesh underneath. Over a week, she’d watched him sauntering shirtless and barefoot around his home and finally she had unfettered access. An open opportunity to explore every plane and indentation. She shoved the offensive cotton higher only to be road blocked by his broad chest and the fact that he was too busy using his hands on her to lift them up and let her pull the fabric free. “Priest. Shirt.”
The way he devoured her mouth, she was lucky to get that much out, but he did as she demanded, snarling as he tore his lips away from hers and ripped the shirt over his head. “Need you under me. Now.” Hands back at her hips, he hoisted her up like she weighed a whopping five pounds and palmed her ass in a possessive grip. “Wrap me up.”
Her legs obeyed. God knew, her brain hadn’t sent the order because when he’d pulled her flush against his bare torso her mind had come completely unhinged. But before she could fully appreciate the blistering sensation of his skin against hers and the erotic feel of his charms pressed against her sternum, she was on her back, his massive body braced above her and his mouth relentlessly drawing one nipple deep.
With something between a sigh and a groan, she speared her fingers into his thick hair, the heavy length of it spilling against her torso a stark contrast to the rough rasp of his jeans against her bare thighs.
She rolled her hips, torn between pulling him away from the wicked suction he kept on her breast so she could see his eyes and holding him exactly where he was. “Your jeans.”
Apparently, talking in minimal sentences wasn’t working anymore, because all she got in return was a grunt worthy of a caveman. He shifted to her other breast, nipped the puckered tip, then enveloped it in his scalding mouth.
And holy crap, it felt good. An erotic tug tied straight to her sex that would only get about a thousand times better if she could get him to let up long enough to shuck his jeans and let her grind against the hard length underneath.
She fumbled for his waistband and got the top button undone before he jerked her hands away and pinned them over her head.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, clearly irritated she’d interrupted his plans.
“I’m way past thinking about it. I’m doing.”
“Not yet, you’re not.” He lifted his weight and took his sweet time perusing her body. Despite the purposeful action, his chest pumped in and out like a man who’d sprinted a marathon. “I took you with my mouth last night, but dreams aren’t reality.” He met her stare and released her hands, the conviction behind his gaze enough to hold her without physical restraints. “I want the real deal and I’m getting it tonight.” Sliding his hands beneath her ass, he tilted her for his mouth and openly inhaled her scent, his cat chuffing in pure delight. “Every last fucking drop.”
He licked straight through her slit and she cried out, the velvet rasp of his tongue against her s
ensitive folds demanding not just her surrender, but her pleasure. Amping the slow-building fire to a raging inferno until there was nothing but sensation. It was overwhelming. Startling in its intensity. So much so, she writhed beneath his mouth, part of her desperate for more of what he offered and another desperate to escape and catch her breath.
Instead, she dared to open her eyes. To feast on the insanely carnal image of her mate devouring her sex—and nearly came when he met her gaze.
He circled her clit with his tongue, the leisurely glide sending fresh ripples out in all directions. “That’s it, kitten,” he growled against her flesh as he teased one finger at her entrance. “Enjoy how it looks.” Another circle, this one tighter and faster. “How it feels when your male devours your cunt.”
And she was gone.
Completely outer limits and soaring through a whole different stratosphere where right, wrong and reason didn’t even compute. Where it didn’t matter what words he’d used to push her over the edge, or the judgments she’d once attributed to them. Only the press of his fingers filling her, pushing her higher with every pulse. The sweet draw of his lips around her clit and the decadent vibration of his hungry groan.
She rolled her hips and savored each wave, riding his steady fingers with a wanton, yet freeing openness and shamelessly holding him to her with both hands. Or maybe it was just her holding on. God knew, the reality she’d known before had been completely rearranged. Every color, every truth, every assumption turned on its head and new possibilities uncovered.
Lazily feeding from her release, he lifted his gaze to hers, a heavy dose of male arrogance adding an extra spark to his gray eyes.
Spearing her hands through his hair, she urged him toward her. “You look awfully proud of yourself.”
“My mate just came for the first time in my mouth and she did it hard.” He kissed the top of her cleft and slowly shifted so he braced himself above her. Between her legs, his fingers pumped slow but steady, stoking the embers he’d left behind. “Not a man alive who won’t smirk when his woman’s taste is on his tongue and her moans are rattling around in his head.”
He kissed her, deep and thorough. As if he needed to drive home how intimately he now knew her and how much more they had yet to go.
Except there was one thing she wasn’t skipping on the trip. One thing she’d yet to indulge in, even in dreams. She pushed against his chest, gaining only enough room to cant her head and leave her jaw and neck exposed to his devious lips. “I want to see you. Want you to show yourself the way I did.”
She felt more than heard his low growl rumbling against her chest, then the slow bristle of his beard against her collarbone as he seemed to consider her request. When he lifted his head, his gaze burned with an edge she’d never seen before. A glint that warned the darkness was closer than she’d realized.
For a second, she expected him to speak. To utter another of those jaw-dropping statements he’d floored her with since they’d begun their sexual dance all those days ago. Instead he slowly eased his fingers from inside her as he sat back on his heels, smoothed his calloused palms along her splayed inner thighs and unhurriedly drank her in.
“Priest?”
“I want you to stay just like this. Open and ready for me. Understand?”
Oh, boy. She was definitely dancing with the dark side. If the tension woven within his voice didn’t prove it, then the otherworldly edge around it did.
And yet she wasn’t afraid. Not even a little. Excited, yes. Drunk on endorphins, absolutely. But not afraid. Not of Priest or any part of him. She swallowed hard, but fisted the comforter at her sides and eked out a broken “Yes.”
He growled in approval and eased to the foot of the bed. Running the heel of his hand along the thick length behind his jeans, he cocked his head to one side, considering. “How does it feel to wait for me like that, kitten?”
Sinful.
Indecent.
Dirty.
“Exposed,” she said instead, opting for the one that hit the closest to home.
“Hmmm.” He tugged his zipper down and peeled the denim back. To her surprise, his cock sprung free, long, thick and heavily veined. Enough so, his hesitation at giving her a show made a lot more sense. Heck, the thing was as intimidating as he’d been the first day they’d met.
Not breaking his stare, he shoved his jeans free, crawled back on the bed and stood tall on his knees between her splayed thighs. A hunter. A warrior. A protector.
And he was hers. Every dark, deliciously muscled inch of him.
“I guess that answers if you’re a boxers or a briefs man,” she managed, though her attempt at humor was quickly sidetracked when she spied the pre-come seeping from his cock.
She licked her lower lip and he growled, swiping his thumb through the pearly white substance and slicking it along his shaft. “I tolerate clothes on a good day. Less so when all I can think about is fucking and coming inside my mate.”
The muscles in her sex quivered, the combination of his voice, his wicked words and the image of him working himself making it almost impossible to keep her knees wide as he’d asked. Though, now that she thought about it, he hadn’t said anything about keeping her hands to herself. If he was free to put on a show, then so was she. Especially, if she could nudge things further along in the process.
She snaked one hand between her legs and fingered her slick folds. “That’s a little dangerous don’t you think? You have no clue who I’ve been with, and I doubt you’ve been celibate. Not with blonde bimbos sticking their boobs in your face all the time.”
His mouth crooked in a devious grin, apparently not only pleased with the initiative she’d shown, but eager to watch the show. “Kitten, the worst diseases in the world don’t impact our race. That includes sexual ones.”
A nice perk, but still, not a full get out of jail card. She slid one finger inside and circled her hips, her voice just a little bit threadier than before. “But I’m not on the pill.”
The grin grew to a full-on smile and he released his cock. “And you’re not in heat.” His hand covered hers, his strong fingers adding more pressure to her own. “If you were, I’d have carted you off and fucked you days ago.”
Oh, yes. His touch was much better than hers. Bolder. Bigger. Stronger. She ground her hips against their joined hands, only the curious part of her clinging to the conversation with dogged determination. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re my mate. When it’s time, we’ll both know it. Either you’ll welcome me, or I’ll die trying to change your mind, but we’ll figure that out later.” He punctuated his statement by gripping her knee, pressing it up and wide and replacing the path their fingers had taken with the wide crest of his cock.
Later was good. Very good. Because right now all she wanted was to feel him inside her. To check the rest of their conversation and get down to something far more primitive.
Up and down, he teased her, coating himself in her wetness. “You wanted to see me, mihara. Well, here I am.” He notched the tip inside her and paused long enough to grasp her hips in each hand and growl, “Watch while I claim my mate.”
Watch? Good God, it was so much more than watching. More like being reborn. Resurrected from the half-life she’d known and plunged into one blindingly bright. Inch by inch, he took her. Tunneled his thick, beautiful length inside her with an aching slowness that reeked of possession.
And it was amazing. Liberating. The stretch and fullness as he invaded ricocheting out in all directions. His dark, taut skin disappearing inside her with each slick pump deliciously explicit. The pinnacle of intimacy.
Fascinated, she trailed her fingers across his abdomen and savored the powerful flex and release of each thrust. The thin layer of sweat building against his hot skin.
“Priest.” It came out reverent. As awestruck and dazed as
the connection deepening between them.
“That’s right, kitten. Feel it.” He tightened his grip at her hips and adjusted his angle, driving up so the tip of him raked perfectly inside her. “Take what I give you. Own it.”
He was out of his mind. No one could own sensations like this. No more than they could own a violent storm or a raging ocean. But she could ride it. Ride it and let it sweep her into this new reality with both hands held high.
Matching each thrust of his hips with her own, she wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into his flanks, urging him deeper. “How about if you give me more?”
The sound that came out of him was part dirty chuckle, part snarl and his gray eyes darkened to that of an encroaching thundercloud. “There she is. My naughty mate dancing closer to the edge.”
Lord, but his voice was wicked. A sultry stroke to her already overloaded senses. “I’m not naughty.”
“Oh, yes you are. You may not see it, but I do.” He upped his thrusts, rolling his hips with each stab in the most sinfully beautiful display of masculinity she’d ever seen. Smoothing his hands up her sides and beneath her shoulder blades, a resonant purr rumbled from his chest. “And I’m going to prove it.”
One second he was above her, and the next she was upright, her legs wrapped around his waist and her pussy impaled on his glorious cock. Gone was the man who’d carefully watched his every step, replaced with an animal driven by base instinct. One determined to sweep her up in the frenzy and erase all the tidy ideas she’d thought to be true.
Over and over his pelvis slapped against hers, her breasts jiggling against his solid, sweat-slick chest with each buck and her hair softly teasing the delicate skin along her shoulders. She’d never felt more alive. More connected than in this moment.
With one hand splayed just above her ass and the other fisted in her hair, he tilted her head to one side and scraped his teeth along her neck. “You like that.”
Guardian’s Bond Page 19
