She raised one shoulder. “I have the power to do that . . . here.”
“How?” he asked again.
She turned her palms up. “I can change the forms of matter.”
An awesome power, he thought. “What about those monsters?”
“They are part of my defense system.”
The matter-of-fact words were like a fist to his gut. “You did that to me?”
Her eyes darkened, and she shook her head quickly. “I didn’t mean to. I had no idea that you were coming here—that you could come here.”
“But I did.”
“No one has done it before. You walked through the jungle?”
“Yes.”
“Where dangers lurk.”
“And this is a place of safety?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“My house.”
He looked around the courtyard. “And you made it beautiful for yourself.”
“For my pleasure.” She kept her gaze on him. “But you do not belong here.”
“Maybe, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I wanted to see you again.” He swallowed. “Hold you. That’s why I had to try.”
Her breath caught, but she repeated, “You should not.”
“You didn’t want to see me?”
Emotions chased themselves across her lovely features. “Yes. I did. As you said, I could not drive you from my thoughts.”
“But you didn’t come back last night.”
“No one needed me last night.”
“That didn’t have to keep you away.”
“I don’t do things simply for my own benefit.”
“Why not?”
“I never have.”
That admission tore at him. Before he could stop himself, he reached for her and pulled her close. Closing his eyes, he held her, stroking his hands up and down her back and plunging his fingers into her thick, dark hair.
If you tried to measure their relationship in the real world, you could say he barely knew her, but this wasn’t the real world. Still, he silently acknowledged that he was taking liberties, again. Only now he didn’t think she was going to vanish.
Holding his breath, he prayed she would not pull away. At first her body was stiff. Then with a sigh, she let herself melt against him.
He breathed in her delicate scent, absorbing the feel of her slender frame and her feminine curves. It felt so good to hold her, after months of feeling alone and unwanted. He knew she was alone, too. Was that why she allowed him to hold her?
The two of them swayed together, and he wondered if she needed him as much as he needed her.
The unspoken invitation made his heart beat faster. And faster still when her hands began to move restlessly across his back, then down to the waistband of his jeans. With her arms around him, she pulled his shirt from the back of his pants, then slipped her hand under, pressing her palm against the naked skin of his back, sliding fingers over his warm flesh, sending shivers over his skin.
He closed his eyes, marveling at the way her touch made him feel hot and cold at the same time. When she tipped her face up, he lowered his head, his lips settling on hers. She opened for him, and he drank in the wonderful taste of her as she continued to cling to him.
He might not have known her long, but he had sensed things about her that he hadn’t been able to put into words. And he wanted to make love with her. More than that, he was sure she wanted him as well.
She looked up and glanced around the courtyard. “Come inside,” she murmured.
He knitted his fingers with hers, and she led him into the house, on the opposite side of the building from where he’d awakened.
They stepped into a bedroom that was beautiful, adorned with patterned cushions, silken hangings and a wide bed on a low platform.
“Is this where you sleep?”
“Yes.”
His gaze came back to her, and he looked his fill. He’d seen women in saris before, and they always had on a blouse under the length of fabric, but her arms and shoulders were bare expect for where one end of the sari was draped over her shoulder. Below the fabric he could see the high, firm shape of her small breasts.
If he pulled the material from her shoulder, he knew he would expose the top of her body. He wanted to do that, yet he was pretty sure that would be going too fast for her.
She might have invited him to her bedroom, yet he saw a mixture of desire and uncertainty on her face.
The need for her pounded fiercely through his body, but he held himself in check as he gathered her in his arms, kissing her face, the curve of her ear, her jawline as his hands stroked up and down her back, under the hanging fabric, then glided around to find the sides of her breasts.
She let her head drop to his shoulder as he touched her, easing the silk away so that he could bring his hands inward, caressing her satin skin, taking her breasts in his hands and skimming his thumbs across the hardened peaks, bringing a gasp to her lips.
“I should do that, too,” she murmured. Her hands were at the front of his tee shirt, rolling it up so that she could slide her hands over his chest, making his breath catch as her fingers tangled in his thick hair, then found his nipples and swept her thumbs across them.
He closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. It seemed like a miracle that she was in his arms.
“You’ll have to show me what to do,” she murmured.
The whispered words got his attention. “What?”
“I have never done this before.”
Chapter Five
His breath caught. “You haven’t made love with a man?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It wasn’t something I wanted.”
“But you want it now?”
“You made me want it.”
When she raised her face, her gaze met his, and it felt as though time had stopped.
She had never been with a man, but she wanted to be with him.
He was dizzy with desire for her, yet her words had given him pause.
As he watched, she pulled the top of the sari off her shoulder, revealing the top half of her body. The other end of the garment was tied at her waist, and she undid the knot, pulling the covering off so that she stood naked before him.
His gaze took in her perfect body. The curve of her hips, her narrow waist, her beautiful breasts, then rose to her face, where he saw doubts flicker.
“Do I not please you?”
“Of course you please me. You’re beautiful.”
“Then why do you not reach for me? I thought you would want to press my body to yours.”
He made a strangled sound and uttered words that surprised him. “Perhaps we are not meant to do this.”
“You do not sense something between us? Something difficult to put into words. Long ago my mother told me that when I met the right man, I would know. I asked how I would know. She said only that I would.”
“Oh Lord, Ariel.”
She reached for him. He reached at the same time, pulling her into his arms, holding tight. He had thought that making love to her would be a precious gift. He hadn’t understood how precious.
Desperate to feel her breasts against his chest, he stepped back far enough to yank his shirt over his head and toss it on the floor before gathering her into his arms, a sound of gratitude rising in his throat as he absorbed the feel of her against himself.
It was difficult to draw in a full breath, difficult to keep his balance as he swayed her in his arms so that her breasts moved back and forth against his body.
“Oh,” she cried out as her nipples slid against the roughened hair of his chest.
She made a small sobbing sound, her arms clasping his back.
He fumbled with the button at the top of his jeans, opening it and lowering the zipper so that he could drag the pants down his legs and kick them away. But he left his briefs on.
He reached around her, sliding his hands over the curve o
f her bottom, her hips, the indentation at her waist, all the places he’d longed to touched. Imagined touching.
He had known he wanted her, but he hadn’t dared to imagine this. It was so much better than any daydream he could have conjured up, and he marveled at the intensity of what he felt now.
He bent to pull the covers back, then brought her down to the bed with him, rolling to his side, holding her in his arms.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“The same things we’ve been doing. Give each other pleasure.”
“What gives you pleasure?” she asked.
“Touching you. Kissing you.”
“And all of that pleases me.”
He cleared his throat, wanting to make sure she understood everything. “Do you know that when a man enters a woman’s body for the first time, it may hurt her?”
He saw her swallow. “No.”
“But if you’re ready for me, the pain will be quick,” he said, wondering if he was telling the truth. He’d never done this precise thing either, but he wasn’t going to test her confidence by admitting that.
His gaze on her face, he cupped her breasts, shaping them to his touch, then playing his thumbs over her distended nipples.
She closed her eyes, her breath catching as he bent to take one hard peak into his mouth, drawing on her as he used his thumb and finger to tug and twist the other side.
His name was a gasp on her lips.
Gratified by her response, he slid one hand slowly down her body, pausing to play with the tight curls at the juncture of her legs before reaching lower, parting her folds, touching her there.
He felt her tense. “All right?”
“Yes.”
She was aroused. Hot and moist for him. He had never needed a woman more, yet he wasn’t going to rush this. Not when he knew this moment was so important—for both of them.
He touched her and kissed her, tasted her, lifting his head to watch her face and judge her readiness as he continued to stroke his fingers through her most intimate flesh.
He saw passion mold her features, felt her hips lift restlessly against his fingers.
He slipped his finger into her, then out again, stroking up to her clit.
“That feels so good,” she gasped.
“There’s more. Do you know the pleasure a woman feels when she reaches sexual climax?”
“No.”
“I’ll show you. Just with my hand.”
“How is that possible?”
“You’ll see.”
He continued to stroke her, dipping into her, pressing against her swollen sex, sliding up to her clit as he rocked his hand, his finger plunging in and out of her, feeling her inner muscles tremble, then convulse.
He felt her climax against his hand, felt her whole body clenching. While pleasure still gripped her, he levered himself over her and plunged his cock inside her.
She cried out, staring up at him, and he went still above her, overcome by emotions. “The painful part is done. I’m in you,” he whispered, in a choked voice, bending to kiss her. He rolled to his side, taking her with him so that he could kiss her and touch her when he began to move his hips.
He felt tiny tremors in her sheath as her arousal built again. Then, as he moved, she began to match his rhythm. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she climbed toward orgasm with him. Summoning every ounce of self-control he possessed, he held himself back, waiting for her to reach the peak of her pleasure again. When he felt the spasms of her climax bloom to full force, he let himself go, crying out as his own orgasm rocketed through him.
He rolled to his side, cradling her in his arms, overwhelmed with the joy of making love with her— and the trust she had given him.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“I should be the one to say that. You gave me something I never knew about—never expected.”
He stroked her arm, turned his head so that he could kiss her cheek. He had so many questions, but he understood that he might not get the answers he wanted—or any answers at all. And as he lay in this woman’s bed, enjoying the feel of her head resting on his arm, he felt a profound peace and happiness—which he was afraid he would never feel again.
He was sure he could prolong the sweet respite by keeping his questions locked in his throat, but he had never considered himself a coward.
“Ariel, who are you?” he asked in a voice that he couldn’t quite hold steady.
She stiffened in his arms, then scooted away from him, putting a foot of space between them. “I can’t talk about that.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I want to.”
“But?”
“But this is very new to me, and I think I may already be breaking the rules.”
“What, you lose your powers if you’re not a virgin?”
“I don’t think so.” She raised her hand, and a television screen appeared on the wall across the room. Not bulky but perfectly flat like a picture hanging in a gallery. As he watched, it flicked on and he saw Bernard Shaw reporting on the situation in the Middle East.”
“I guess I can still do it.” she murmured.
“You can get CNN here?”
“If I want. And channels from other countries.”
Instantly the channel changed to a women commentator speaking what sounded like Russian.
“Movies?”
“What one do you want to see?”
“Coming Home with Jane Fonda and Jon Voight.” He could identify with that one.
This time the change took a few moments. As the movie showed on the screen, he reached for her hand, knitting his fingers with hers.
“He’s injured in a war. Like you.”
“Worse.”
“Yeah, turn it off and get The 1812 Overture. Not too loud.”
She did it, pulling up a recording the Boston Pops had done on Public Broadcasting.
He listened to the music, wanting answers, but he wanted this time with her, too. She had given him something he hadn’t expected. Not just the sweetness of making love with her. In this place, he was whole again, and he was pretty sure that wouldn’t be true when he went back to the Naval Medical Center. He didn’t ask about that. Instead he asked, “How long can I stay here?”
“I don’t know.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “No one from your world ever came here before.”
“Why me?”
“You possess something other men lack.”
“What?”
“The only thing I can think is that your mind is open in an unusual way.”
“Or the two of us have a connection that neither one of us can explain.”
He waited for her to say it could be explained, but she only nodded.
“Show me your house,” he said, wondering if he’d find any clues. If she had a TV, maybe she had a computer connected to . . . what? The universal mind?
When she climbed out of bed, he saw the blood on the inside of her thighs and drew in a ragged breath.
She followed his gaze and flushed. “That happened when you entered me?”
“Yes.”
“I should wash.”
“Let me wash you.”
Her flush deepened.
“There should be no secrets between us. At least physical secrets,” he said. “Where’s the bathroom?”
She gave a little nod but picked up the sari and draped it over her body before leading him down the hall to a huge bathroom with a marble tub as big as a Jacuzzi, a large shower enclosed on all sides by glass and a marble sink counter. One wall was tiled in a mural that looked like it could have come from ancient Greece, and the toilet was in a separate room that was modeled on a Roman general’s campaign tent.
“You like to mix your decor.”
“I change it when I want.”
He turned on the water in the shower, adjusting the temperature to steamy. Come on in.”
“With you?”
“Yeah. You need to l
earn that it’s not just for washing.”
He stepped under the water, which turned his skin instantly slick and hot.
He held out his hand, and Ariel stepped in with him. He reached for a peach-colored washcloth hanging on a small rack and wet it under the water, then bent to wash the blood off her thighs, watching it run into the drain and swirl away.
When he was done, he pulled her close, absorbing the feel of her wet body plastered to his.
Reaching behind her, he found a bar of soap in a wall niche and slicked his hands, running them up and down her back, playing over the curve of her butt, wringing a small exclamation from her.
Bending his head, he nibbled on her ear, sucked on the lobe, stiffened his tongue and probed.
Tipping her head up, he brought his mouth to hers, playing with her lips and then her teeth and the sweet territory beyond as he brought his soapy hands to her breasts, gliding over them, loving the way her body quivered in his arms.
She sighed and dipped her head so that he couldn’t see her face as she walked him in a little circle. She’d moved him so that the soap dish was to his back, and when she played her soap-slick hands down his back to his butt, he grinned. She was a fast learner.
Very fast, he realized when she slipped one soapy hand into the crack between his butt cheeks and closed the other around his aching erection, imitating the motion of intercourse.
He gasped as she played with his ass and his butt crack. “Don’t do too much of that.”
“You don’t like it?”
“I like it too much. You’ll make me come.”
“That’s what it’s called?”
“Yeah. Or orgasm. Or sexual climax.”
He moved her hand to safer territory, then went back to her taut nipples, using a circular motion to skim their edges, alternating that with flicks of his thumbnails across the very tips, wringing a sob from her.
“We could use a little shelf in here. For you to sit on,” he muttered. About at the height of my hips.
The requested shelf materialized in back of her, and he lifted her onto it, spreading her legs and moving between them so that he could thrust his cock into her.
He saw her look down at the place where they were joined.
“You can’t tell where one of us starts and the other ends,” she breathed.
ON EDGE (Decorah Security) Page 4
