"Shaque, what—"
He placed one finger on her lips. “We're taking this too fast for you. I know how I feel, what I want, but you're not so sure. I'm not selfish enough to force you, Elyse. We're going to take this slower, give you time to get to know me. Your way."
"My way?” Her brows shot up.
"Yeah,” he said. “You have four days."
And he walked out of the cabin, leaving her standing amongst the wreckage of her table, and wondering just what had happened.
* * * *
True to his word, Shaque slowed down. There was no way he regretted telling his friends that he and Elyse were a couple. He wasn't about to let the stubborn, mixed-up woman loose, but he did intend to give her some space.
Which meant no hard kisses, and no provocation.
Okay, he thought to himself, there was some provocation, but he'd make it more subtle. And devious. Hell, he was no angel, never had been and wasn't about to start. Not when it came to Elyse. She was certainly no angel, either. So that made them a matched pair, as far as he was concerned.
But he was determined the next move would be hers. Helped along by him, of course. Just a bit. Okay, a lot.
When they studied the information given to them by The Overlord, he now leaned over the back of Elyse's chair and inhaled the scent of her hair, letting her feel him behind her. Once she relaxed enough with him there, he lightly trailed his finger across the back of her shoulders, just the faintest touch, and felt her stiffen. He stopped as though having absent-mindedly touched her.
When they ate, he spoke normally, but he watched her lips, letting his desire burn through even while keeping the tone of his words polite.
Every chance he got, he brushed against her. When she had trouble reaching a disc on a high shelf, he moved fast, planting himself behind her and stretching up above her for it, ensuring he leaned against her, rubbing lightly as he moved.
He ensured he showered before her, leaving the masculine scent of his soap in the air. And he didn't dress in the shower, instead walking to and from clad in a towel slung low on his hips.
It didn't seem to affect her, except to make her start laughing, which wasn't the result he was after. Or maybe it was, because she was so relaxed around him, so amused, that she let her guard well and truly down.
He saw the heat in her eyes, the way she undeniably followed him with her eyes when he walked down the corridor with the towel slung low. But she didn't make the first move.
Every night he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.
He was showing admirable constraint, considering how bloody frustrated he was getting. The fact that she didn't seem to be as affected as he was, made it worse.
Now when he brushed against her and she laughed, his loins tightened. Her amused glances made him want to kiss her smiling lips, swallow that laughter and replace it with moans.
She might be getting more relaxed, but he was becoming wound up tighter than a spring.
Shit, he just might end up eating humble pie and go knocking on her cabin door after all.
By night four, he was contemplating doing just that. Standing in the middle of his cabin, his blood running hot through his veins at just the memory of her soft breast brushing against his arm when she'd turned and bumped into him—because he was lurking as tantalizingly close as possible, of course—he took a deep breath.
Bugger it. He was going to eat humble pie. He'd beg Elyse if he had to. He'd kiss her senseless. He'd yank her into his arms and make her as hot for him as he was for her.
"Hey,” a soft voice said from the doorway.
He opened his eyes and looked straight her. And did a double take.
Elyse leaned in the doorway in just a towel. Her hair was soft and shining, her eyes twinkling with a combination of heat and amusement, and the scent of her soap was in the air.
"Elyse?"
Straightening, she walked into the cabin, crossed to him, grabbed his towel and yanked it away.
"You win,” she breathed throatily, and fisting her hands in his hair, she dragged his head down and took his mouth in a kiss so ravenously hot he thought they were going to combust.
But when he started to reach for her, she shoved him back towards the bed.
"You might win,” she said, the heat in her eyes banking, simmering, “But this is my game now."
Oh suns, yes! Right now Shaque would have gone down on his knees if she'd told him to.
The bunk hit him in the back of the knees and he fell backwards onto the mattress. He only just had time to shove himself up the length of the mattress before she came after him, her moves slow and sinuous as she crawled up his length on hands and knees.
She didn't stop until she was braced above him, her knees on either side of his hips, and then she lowered herself down, but only enough to kiss him.
She devoured his mouth, kissing and demanding more, demanding his kisses back, but growling low in her throat when he started to control it.
"Don't worry.” She smiled down at him. “I'm still here, not the mutant."
"I'll take you anyway you'll give me.” He reached for her.
She grabbed his wrists and with surprising strength slammed them down above his head. “Is that right?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"Mmm.” Her smile was lustful. “Close your eyes, let's see how far you want to go."
He smiled back hedonistically. “As far as you want to take me, baby."
"Then I've just the surprise for you. Close your eyes."
His staff was already hard, curving up to his belly. Soon he'd be in her tight sheath, slipping into her heat. Soon ... and he couldn't wait to see what surprise she had for him.
He closed his eyes, felt her shift, felt the towel fall to his body. The mattress dipped, she grasped his wrists—and something cold snapped around both.
Shaque's eyes jerked open and he yanked on his hands to no avail. He angled his head to look up, and saw that his wrists were cuffed—and the chain between the manacles was around the bunk head rail.
"As far as I want to go, baby,” Elyse purred above him.
He looked back at her. Straddling his hips in glorious nakedness, her eyes were rimmed with red as always, but there was something else in them tonight. Carnal heat, hot desire. And she had the upper hand. He was at her mercy.
He grinned.
"Yeah, thought you'd like a bit of force.” Elyse laughed softly.
"Do your worse, baby,” he invited her.
Her lips curved in a concupiscent smile.
She trailed her nails down his chest—and from there everything was washed away in a tide of utter prurience.
Her hands were firm on his staff, pulling the curving length away from his stomach while she played the tip with her thumb, making him arch up. Every firm stroke of her palms up his length made him shudder. She played him like an expert, making him swell and pulse, and thrust into her hand, and she stroked firm and hard, long and slow, alternating until he was begging her to take him, to finish it. His heart thundered, his blood churned. He yanked on the manacles, but it was useless.
Just before he climaxed, he saw her watching him. Through a haze of desire, he saw her smile, saw the hunger in her eyes, but she gave him one last pull, and he erupted. Arching back, pressing his head back into the pillow, groaning his release as his hips tried to pump beneath her. Only her weight was on him, and he felt her bear down to stop him moving, so all he could do was shift slightly, managing in the throes of passion to thrust a little. But not enough. All he could do was spurt and spurt, his seed coming in spasms.
She stroked him through it, encouraging him, milking him with her fist, sending him over and over into that blissful agony of climax.
When he finally stopped shaking, finally blinked his way back to gasping reality, he opened his eyes to find her braced over him.
"My,” she whispered, her breath a warm puff of air against his lips, “You are virulent."
Then she
moved down his body, and he watched her through half closed eyes, trying to get his breath back, knowing she had something else planned.
"Elyse.” His voice was hoarse. “Release me."
"Are you scared?"
"Hell, no!” He was on fire.
She grinned at him and winked. “Then hang in there for a bit longer, hunter."
Using the towel, she wiped him dry of his own seed, and then she proceeded to lick and nibble her way down his chest, her nipples leaving a tiny, tingling trail where she just let them touch his skin.
He could feel the ardour rising up again, his heart starting to pump his blood around in a heated flow to every part of himself.
He wanted to hold her, wanted to flip her over onto her back and shove into her. The chain rattled when he tried to reach for her, reminding him that he was her captive.
"Elyse,” he rasped, “let me go."
"No.” She licked the crease in his groin, making him jump, and finding out how sensitive he was there, she played the crease with her tongue, teasing and licking, light touches that were driving little splinters of heat deeper inside him.
Clenching his teeth, feeling the passion and desire rise deliciously inside him, Shaque wrapped his hands around the chain, needing something to hold onto while Elyse built the furnace inside him to an unbearable pitch.
His staff hardened, lengthened, and within minutes was throbbing for release.
She didn't give him relief, not yet. Instead, she shifted between his thighs, settling herself comfortably, and smiled. It was a teasingly carnal smile.
The she dipped down and licked his scrotum, nibbled, tongued, pressing against his perineum as he'd done to her.
Shaque roared out her name, straining back in a fever pitch of desire. When she combined it with lightly stroking the crease of his groin, sensations shattered through him, the tickling touches combined with the stronger, more determined motions of her tongue on his sensitive areas making him shudder.
He bent his knees involuntarily, pushing upward, his hips pumping. Heat speared through him, clouding his senses, roaring through him with heat and need so bad he couldn't stop his thrusts.
She didn't stop him, but cupped his scrotum firmly, pressing it against his body, massaging and pulling gently, driving him onward.
He shuddered, trying to find release, feeling as though he was going to burst in a haze of pleasured agony.
"Oh God! Oh God, Elyse! Please! Please!” he begged.
Her hands were on his hips, forcing him down, and she came down on him, holding him down with her shoulders and upper chest.
Panting raggedly, in a haze of need, he looked down to find her lips hovering above his staff. Oh blazing suns. She looked up at him, her gaze skimming above the rock hard muscles in his abdomen and chest to look into his eyes.
And then she firmly gripped his staff and pulled it to her mouth, engulfing the head and part of the shaft in one sucking motion that had him arching back helplessly. Stars burst behind his eyes, heat roiled up inside him, and he shuddered and cried out hoarsely as she sucked firmly, without a break, just sucking and sucking and pulling and pushing him higher and higher up that towering pinnacle, until he almost flew the last few steps and flung outwards.
Hips pumping as he emptied himself into her and she sucked, taking his essence, milking him with her mouth as she had earlier with her hands.
Again when he came drifting back down, he opened his eyes hazily to find her hovering above him. There was a tenderness in her eyes he'd never seen before, and she smoothed his hair back from his hot forehead.
"Are you all right?” she asked.
"I think I've died and gone to Heaven,” he replied hoarsely.
"You're in no pain?"
"I've never felt better in my life—” he began, only to widen his eyes when she slid down his body, took his limp member in the soft heat of her mouth, and started sucking and nibbling.
Oh God. Oh God, she was going to—sweet mercy!
He wouldn't have thought it possible, but within minutes he was stiff and hard, the head of his staff throbbing as she stroked and licked him to a burgeoning erection for the third time.
His heart was thundering so much, the heat in his blood never having had a chance to cool and now it blazed through his body like a fire ball.
Almost viciously he yanked on the chains, looking up at the manacles in helpless frustration.
"Let me go, Elyse,” he demanded from between clenched teeth. “I want to take you now.” Sweat streaked his body, making his skin hotter, and he fought the chains, wanting to take the dominant position, wanting to push the teasing wench beneath him and pump into her hot, sweet body.
"Oh, want to take me, huh?” She rose up on her knees and shifted, straddling his hips.
He craved her, and his hot eyes swept over her, from her gleaming eyes, to her soft breasts with the nipples so arousingly peaked, begging for his mouth, to her taunt stomach and the soft curls at the apex of her thighs. He could see the glimmer of moisture in the soft brown curls, and he wanted her, wanted her now. Right now.
He thrust upwards, but she only laughed teasingly and lifted herself straight up, out of his way.
Now he started cursing, twisting his hands, yanking at the cuffs.
"God, Elyse, if I get my hands on you,” he promised harshly, the blood thundering in his ears as desire peaked and peaked but found no release, “I'll take you every way I can!"
"Ooohhh, promises, promises,” she taunted, but the heat in her eyes flared hotter.
Reaching down between them, she took his staff in her hands, stroking him once, making him arch back and pant for breath, clenching his teeth. He felt the heat of her body, the tickle of the curls hiding her femininity against the throbbing tip of his penis.
Then he was sheathed in her, sliding into that wet, hot cavern with the muscles that gripped him with intensity and held on as she lifted herself up and lowered again.
He was having none of her slow, teasing pace.
Bracing his feet on the bed, he thrust up, piercing her deep and sheathing himself fully inside her, right up to the hilt. The straddled position she was in opened her up to him, and he felt the curls on his skin, mingling with his own where the base of him met the base of her.
He heard her cry out, but he couldn't focus, not when his blood thundered in his ears and fire raced through his veins. His body took over as his mind flung away in hedonistic heat. His hips pumped, and he felt Elyse ride him, her body rocking, then matching his thrusts, coming down as his hips pumped up.
Gripping the chain, he hung on, pulling at it, feeling his muscles bulge with the effort. His thighs burned as he pumped upward harder, but there was no way he could stop.
Caught in the delirious heat of the moment, his seed leaking from the tip of his rock-hard staff, Shaque roared out her name, then growled from between clenched teeth as he felt his scrotum tighten, drawing up—and then sweet, blessed relief as his seed spurted forth once more in a hot torrent that poured deep within that hot, sweet, tormenting body that rode him so easily.
Dimly he heard Elyse cry out his name, but nothing else. The flood of his seed was accompanied by being flung out once more to spin in that dizzying vortex of intense heat and pleasure and agony/bliss.
When he finally came to, he had no idea how long he'd been out. But he was aware of other things. Elyse's face was buried in his neck, her hot breaths panting against his skin. Her hot skin was pressed against his own damp, hot body. His wrists ached from yanking on the manacles. His manhood felt well and truly used.
He grinned weakly. Stars, what a ride!
Feeling her shift on his chest, he said quietly, “Elyse.” He was surprised to find his voice husky.
"Mmm?"
"Could you take the cuffs off?"
Lifting her head, she looked from his face to his wrists. “Oh."
She looked so soft and drowsy and sexually satisfied that he wanted to tuck her head back un
der his chin and cuddle her. But first ... “Elyse? The cuffs?"
"Yeah.” She cleared her throat and shifted, sliding off him and moving up.
Turning his head, he eyed her rounded hip, resisting the temptation to lean in and give it a nip. Truth be told, he was exhausted. Sexually wrung out. Used and bloody happy about it.
All he wanted to do now was snuggle and go to sleep.
The cuffs snapped open and he eased his arms down, wincing at the stiffness.
"Oh bugger.” Elyse knelt before him, taking his arms and running her hands up and down his muscles, kneading and squeezing. “I'm sorry."
"Don't be,” he said huskily. “It was worth ever second."
A grin curved her lips. “Really?"
"Yeah, baby.” Catching her arms, Shaque pulled her down beside him, turning to take her into his arms and tuck her head where, as far as he was concerned, it belonged—under his chin. Nuzzling into her hair, breathing deeply of her scent, he whispered, “It was worth every second."
"Mmm.” Snuggling into his arms, Elyse was asleep within seconds
With a satisfied smile on his face, Shaque quickly followed.
When he awoke in the morning, Elyse was gone.
Fourteen
Rechecking the coordinates, Elyse frowned. It shouldn't have been possible. They couldn't possibly be this far out of the Inner Sanctum.
"You are never to leave the bed before me,” Shaque huskily.
Looking over her shoulder, Elyse grinned. He stood in the doorway, barefoot, a towel slung low around his hips, blonde hair tousled, and a scowl on his classically handsome face. “Morning, hunter."
"It would be a better one if you stayed where you belonged.” Moving into the cabin, he stopped behind her, grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled her head back firmly but carefully, and took her mouth in a ravishing kiss.
Even half asleep, the man could kiss enough to make her toes curl in her boots.
"I didn't want to wake you,” she murmured when he lifted his mouth from hers. “You looked tired."
"I should be tired. Some lusty wench invaded my room, chained me up and had her wicked way with my body."
"Poor woman. Maybe she mistook you for someone else?"
Soul of a Predator Page 36
