“Okay. The mood is ruined.” She lowered her head and raised her hands, resting her face against her palms. Then she pressed her forehead against his chest.
He clasped her wrist, then hooked two fingers under her chin, forcing her gaze to lift. “Let’s see if we can un-ruin it, yes?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip but nodded.
“Did I mention that you…Desdemona Anastasia,”—he motioned to the amazingly detailed jungle scene etched into her flesh— “are the sexiest piece I’ve ever beheld?”
Those long-lashed hazel eyes widened with surprised euphoria. “You did, but I’m expecting you to tell me at least five times a day from now on.”
How long was “from now on?”
“Want to hear something funny? Well, boo-hoo funny,” she corrected. “You are the first person to compliment me in years.”
Truly? “The males in your life are fools.”
Preening, she told him, “I guess sleeping with you was inevitable. Because you are the sexiest piece I’ve ever beheld. When you broke into my bathroom, I considered jumping your bones.”
He detected no lie. Fox had wanted him from the start? His head spun.
Inner shake. Concentrate! Before they could be together, he had to explain the rules—to them both. Voice firm, he said, “We’ve called a temporary truce, though you still wish to escape. I still can’t let you. Therefore, the times you aren’t under my direct supervision, you’ll be returned to the dungeon. If my leaders refuse to pardon you, allowing you to work with us…” What will I do then? “We’ll have to come to some other arrangement. Are these terms acceptable?” Please, be acceptable.
“Let’s see if I can read between the lines,” she said. “We’re sleeping together to preempt regret, not for any other reason, and I shouldn’t get my hopes up that you’ll ever develop feelings for me?”
Perceptive Fox strikes again. “Exact—” He pressed his lips together, going silent as a foul taste coated his tongue. Apparently, he wasn’t sleeping with her simply to prevent regret.
A pause laden with tension stretched into what felt like days, weeks. Peering at him through the thick shield of her lashes, she quietly asked, “Did you redecorate your bedroom to impress me?”
Yes, but also to make her more comfortable. However, admitting the truth would be foolish. Remaining silent, he entered the shower stall and turned a knob, water gushing from the showerhead. Steam billowed, reminding him of early morning fog.
Fox followed him in, but stopped on the other side of the waterfall. At first, they remained immobile, staring at each other. Then, she made a move, reaching through the water to run her hands over his wings, ruffling the feathers.
Another groan slipped from him, his mind momentarily engulfed by bliss.
“Rumor claims a Sent One’s wings are an erogenous zone,” she said, sounding enchanted.
“You heard correctly.” The fact that she didn’t know for sure… “You’ve never been with anyone like me before?”
“Nope. You’re my first.”
And your last. The possessive thought rooted him in place. Possessive, yes, but also dark. If his leaders voted to end her rather than save her, he would be her last everything.
His chest did that awful clenching thing.
“By the way,” she said with a teasing smile, scrambling his thoughts. “Don’t think I’ll be easy to please just because I’ve gone five hundred years without sex.” As she stepped under the water, soaking her hair, the dirt washed from her skin. “I’m really good at pleasuring myself.”
That visual… He sucked in a mouthful of air. Fox, naked and in bed, working her clitoris and thrusting her fingers as deep as possible.
The visual would be forever branded into his mind. “I will watch you do this. Later.”
“Oh, you will, will you?” she purred.
“I will.” Nothing would stop him. “And you’ll love every second of it.”
“How about you make me love every second of this shower? Let’s stop eye-banging and start banging-banging.”
Yes! Satisfaction poured through him, eroding any lingering resistance. Gripping her by the hips, he spun her around and tugged her backward, pressing her spine against his chest. He’d been celibate for a year, every new touch was overwhelming. Too much, but also somehow not enough.
With his lips hovering directly over her ear, he whispered, “My bold little vixen loves her pleasures.”
“She does, she really does,” she replied, with a throaty voice. He snickered, then he got to work, shampooing and conditioning her hair. Next, he sudsed his hands with soap to wash the rest of her. She was so soft yet strong. So perfect. Every point of contact magnified his lust until need utterly consumed him. A bead of precum glistened on the head of his shaft.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “I bathed before I came to you. We’ll have to shower again, so you can wash me.”
“Deal.” She leaned into his every touch, her eyelids heavy and hooded, her lips parted. Lips he wanted wrapped around his erection… Soon, she began to pant.
For too many years, Bjorn had despised being touched by anyone other than Thane and Xerxes. The only people in existence who understood his inner torment, because they’d lived through the nightmare, too. Once he’d begun to crave human contact again, he’d wanted to inflict pain, not pleasure, and the guilt had eaten him alive. Here, now, with Fox, the woman he should enjoy harming, he only wanted to pleasure. I am some kind of messed up.
Perhaps parts of him had finally healed?
Reeling again. If she agreed to be with him merely to manipulate his emotions… He stiffened. I’ll bear those wounds all over again. “Before, I told you not to tell me why you decided to break your sexual fast with me. Now, I have to know.”
“Because I like you, okay? You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met.”
Again, he detected no lie. He marveled, his shaft pulsing with so much force, he feared he might come. For the most amazing woman to consider him the most amazing man—was there any finer compliment?
“You are already clean,” she said, anticipation crackling in her tone, “so how about we get you dirty?” She spun and wound her arms around his neck. Enlarged pupils. A reaction she couldn’t fake. “I want my hands all over you.”
Control fraying… Waterdrops clung to her lashes. Rapture flushed her cheeks. Not kicking her legs apart and plunging inside her, required every ounce of his might. How tight would she be? How wet? “Touch me anywhere you desire.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb along the seam between her lips. “With us, nothing is taboo.”
“Good to know.” She melted into him, a wanton smile nearly unmanning him. “I think I’ll start with your lips.”
As she rose to her tiptoes, he bent his head. Their mouths met, and he opened up, greeting the thrust of her tongue with one of his own. They kissed and kissed and kissed, all thoughts drowning as wave after wave of heat and yearning flooded him.
Bjorn walked her backward and pressed her against the wall, or rather, the wing he wrapped around her, ensuring she didn’t get cold. He fisted a lock of her hair and tilted her head farther back, deepening the kiss. With his free hand, he cupped the underside of her knee and lifted her leg. He placed her foot on the bench beside them and spread her legs, leaving her open to him.
Shivers rocked her. A frenzy overtook him, spurring him on. Need more. Now! He kissed her harder, faster. From a slow, drugging exploration to a wild, wicked devouring. When she scoured her nails down his spine and gripped his ass to yank him ever closer, the pace of the kiss accelerated yet again.
When he shifted, the tip of his shaft brushed against her core. She released a plaintive moan, and he hissed, his blood running hot. Boiling. Sweat beaded on his brow. He needed this woman in ways he’d never dreamed possible. Growls percolated in his chest. Had he ever enjoyed a female’s reactions more?
“You are”—everything—“exquisite.” He ground his aching length between her legs.
At the same time, he cupped her breasts. Kneading the giving flesh, pinching her nipples, he licked and sucked his way down her neck, where he flicked his tongue over her racing pulse.
Her breaths turned shallow. She rolled her hips, seeking—chasing—a more intimate contact. “Bjorn. Mmmm. It’s been…too long…I want…need…more!”
More. Yes. Could he truly handle more after going so long without a hint of pleasure?
He must. He couldn’t get enough of this woman. Dazed, he sank to his knees, laving and sucking her nipples on his way down. The dusky pearls teased and tantalized him. Then he kissed a fiery path down the center of her stomach, licked a circle around her navel, and nibbled lower…lower still. When he hit his knees at last, he paused to look up, wanting to take in all of her, rather than his new portal to paradise.
Soaked strands of jet-black hair clung to her. Water droplets sluiced down her heaving chest, catching on puffy nipples several shades darker than before. Her spine was arched, her head back. Her belly quivered. With her foot still resting on the bench, he had a clear view of paradise—her swollen, needy little clit, and those pouty pink folds that glistened with feminine honey.
Ravenous, he licked his lips. Then he licked her. A grunt escaped, his eyes closing in surrender. Never, in all his days, had he tasted anything so sweet. Maddened, already desperate for another sampling, he set in with more vigor, licking, sucking, nibbling. Mimicking sex.
Soft cries left her in a rush as his tongue penetrated her core. He wished to penetrate her with something else, too. Something bigger. Harder. He craved the sense of communion experienced only between two lovers. But again, he wasn’t sure he could handle the emotional fallout—yet. Will take this a step at a time.
She arched her spine more pronouncedly, thrusting her breasts up, giving him better access. He skimmed her inner thighs, then palmed the curve of her ass. A perfect handful.
Goose bumps spread over her, fueling a return of his satisfaction. My beauty craves more, too. He traced a fiery path to her core…and thrust a finger into her heat. Wet heat.
“Yes!” When he withdrew the digit, she shouted, “No!” She shifted her hips, blindly hunting for his hand.
Such exuberance! So demanding! Loving her reactions, he thrust his finger inside her once again, adding a second this time, stretching her. So tight. So hot. So wet—dripping. Her inner walls clenched around the digits, another cry bursting from her, this one higher, longer, almost a scream.
The urge to come intensified, pressure building. No, no, no. Fox first. Then me. As he worked her over, he sucked on her clit hard. Between panting breaths, he told her, “Never tasted anything so sweet.”
She gasped, then cried out once again. He sucked harder.
“Bjorn!” Fox came on his tongue.
Chapter Thirteen
An orgasm tore through Fox. So good, so good, so good. Muscles contracted. Blood heated as it rushed through her veins. Her mind soared through the clouds, forming a complete thought suddenly beyond her skill set.
The demon went quiet, and she didn’t know if he orgasmed too and couldn’t speak, or if her satisfaction drowned him out.
Before she could come down from the high, a new tide of lust crashed into her, rendering her satisfaction nothing but a fond memory. She felt as though she hadn’t come in…ever. Tremors vibrated in her bones, stronger aches plaguing her.
Need to be filled. By Bjorn, only Bjorn. A powerful Sent One who listened when she spoke and never went to war with wisdom, simply because it came from a woman. Who treated his enemy—a target for elimination no less—with respect. He never lied, and he always remained loyal to his friends. Not once had he complained about her habit of detaching from emotion. He controlled his temper, exhibiting a perma-calm veneer. Basically, he was a walking, talking grenade to her life plans, with the pin already pulled. But…
She wasn’t sure he was ready for sex. She wasn’t sure she was ready for sex. Bjorn would be her first lover in centuries. Good or bad, she would feel bonded to him afterwards. Already, oral sex had made her feel tender toward him. And ultra-clingy. Never want to leave his side.
Steam billowed around him, creating a dream-like haze as he straightened. Dewdrops glistened on his skin. Tension tightened his features, his inhalations ragged. His gorgeous golden wings arched over his broad shoulders, the edges rimmed by a bony substance that glittered in the water.
Intrigued, she reached out to trace the ridge with her fingertips. At first contact, he hissed in a breath. She moaned. Hard as steel and white-hot.
When she pulled back, aggression pulsed from him. His eyes… Fox shivered. Those rainbow eyes, so lovely and unique, blazed with sexual hunger.
As she watched, he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip to taste her again.
Hot. As. Hell. In a bold one-two move, Fox cupped his nape and spun him around and to the side. The underside of his knees hit the edge of the bench, and he plopped onto the seat. Wasting no time, she dropped to her knees, positioning herself between his powerful thighs.
Shock and excitement emanated from him. He wore them both well. Very, very well.
For a long while, she debated. Climb into his lap and impale herself on his ginormous shaft, or suck him down. In the end, she unveiled a slow, wicked smile and purred, “Time for your tongue-lashing, baby.”
His air of excitement intensified. She thought she also detected a note of relief and disappointment. Like her, he must want sex but fear his reaction to it.
We are definitely more alike than I ever realized.
Trembling, she leaned closer and flicked her tongue over a nipple, then the other. He combed his fingers through her hair and fisted the strands. What he didn’t do—apply pressure, forcing her head to lower. No, oh no, he merely clung to her, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.
Her traitorous heart skipped a beat. He’s starting to care for me, isn’t he?
She was delighted. No, horrified. No, delighted. Argh! She was delightfully horrified. He deserved better than Fox, the woman planning to win and shred his heart just to escape imprisonment and death. Bjorn would save himself a world of grief if he exiled her from the heavens Survivor-style. Or refused to give her a rose à la The Bachelor. Better yet, evict her from the house like a competitor on Big Brother. Seriously, by the time they parted, Bjorn would have brand-spanking-new trust issues.
Guilt iced her…until the heat of her desires melted it. Mouth watering for him, Fox opened wide and sucked him down.
Roaring, he bucked his hips, sending his length deeper into her throat. “Sorry, sorry,” he croaked, easing up.
“Don’t be sorry for enjoying my kiss.” Down she went. Up. Down again. He was so big, he stretched her jaw. So hot, he scorched her tongue. So sweet he reminded her of morning sunshine. And, yes, okay, morning sunshine had no taste, but no other words properly described the compilation of heat, light, and…perfection. At the moment, her world revolved around him.
When she picked up the pace, he unleashed a series of curses. “Don’t stop. Please, vixen, do not stop.”
Never! But she did pause. “Would you rather be inside me?”
“Yes. No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yes?”
Definitely not ready. “Soon,” she vowed. And had he just referred to her as a vixen, another word for female fox? Love!
At first, she used one hand on his shaft, following the motion of her mouth, while the other hand played with his testicles. But, the more she sucked on him, the stronger her own arousal became. Finally, she released his testicles to slide her hand down her body…and sink two fingers into her soaked channel.
Having those fingers inside her only ratcheted up her need for more, more, more, satisfaction dancing just out of reach.
Bjorn tightened his grip on her hair, lifting her head. “You are so hungry for your man, you can’t even wait for a second orgasm?”
The awe he evinced had her groaning as she sucked him down again. Sucked him�
�fingered herself…any second she would blow, the need to climax already clawing and gnawing at her.
“If you do not finish me with your hand, vixen, I will jet down your throat.”
The endearment pushed her over the edge. Pleasured crashed over her, and she screamed around his shaft.
“Fox!” he shouted, her climax spurring his. “I’m coming. I’m coming!” As promised, he poured his satisfaction down her throat.
She swallowed—no, savored every drop. She’d earned it.
When she came down from her second high, panting and trembling, a sense of vulnerability hacked at her emotional lock-box. Suddenly, she felt like an exposed nerve, stripped bare, with no internal armor. Or a Twinkie with an ooey-gooey cream filling. Yet, she couldn’t regret what they’d done. Or even what they hadn’t done.
This wasn’t a one and done deal. They’d be together again; she knew it. This kind of wanting demanded a response.
Needing a moment to compose herself, Fox crawled into his lap and buried her face in the hollow of his neck. Wait. Did he regret what they’d done? Would he blame her for his inability to resist her charms? No doubt he considered his desire for her a weakness. But, as one minute bled into another, he remained relaxed, holding her close with one arm, petting her hair with the other.
Eventually, he stood, still cradling her in his arms. He carried her out of the stall, cool air kissing her damp skin, raising goose bumps. She shivered as he set her on unsteady legs. Holding her up, he dried her off, then himself.
Her mind whirled. “Are you taking me back to the dungeon?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened. Closed. No sound emerged.
Hadn’t decided yet, huh? She switched gears—for now. “I need clothes,” she told him, struggling to project an easy, carefree vibe. “Good ones.”
“To aid your escape, yes?” Once again, he didn’t sound upset by the idea, just matter-of-fact. “Don’t deny it. I was a prisoner once, too, only my captors were demons.”
“Captivity is captivity, no matter the host.” Though she did not like the thought of him suffering at the hands of demons. Or anyone! The horrors he must have endured…
The Darkest Assassin: A Lords of the Underworld Novella Page 12
