She tensed when she said the words, as if waiting for a blow or as if her own admission had shocked her. He suspected it might have been a combination of both.
Her hand tugged at his, trying to escape his grip, but Dag refused to allow it. Instead, he used the connection to pull her closer until he could scoop her into his arms and cradle her against his chest. She struggled halfheartedly while he settled himself in her bed, bracing his shoulders against her headboard and arranging her neatly in his lap. When she sniffled, he felt a crack run through his heart.
“I cannot explain the foolishness of your parents,” he said, bending close to press his cheek to her curling hair. “It is unfathomable to me that a parent should treat their child so coldly, let alone that anyone should behave so toward one as good and precious as you.”
She sniffled again, then followed with a laughing snort. “You’re just saying that because you want into my pants.”
“You are not wearing pants,” he pointed out, running his hand up the smooth skin of her thigh beneath the overlarge T-shirt she wore as a sleeping garment. “And as I have already been inside them, the argument loses all meaning.”
She gave another disbelieving snort, but then she let her head rest in the hollow of his shoulder and snuggled closer against him.
Dag continued, “You are precious to your grandmother, so much that she argued with her own child in defense of you, did she not?”
Kylie nodded with clear reluctance.
“You are precious to Wynn, too. Anyone can see the affection she holds for you. She claims you as her sister, in her heart even if not by blood.” He had to clench his teeth to get the next example out without biting something. “And it is clear that you are precious to your other friends, if Victim was any example.”
She slapped his chest lightly. “Victor, you big jerk. You know, you weren’t very nice to him while he was here. I’m sure that’s why he rushed off like that.”
Not nice to the puny human? Dag had allowed him to leave with his head still on his shoulders and his intestines intact in his abdomen, hadn’t he? He called that being very nice indeed, especially given the puppy-dog look of devotion the young male had turned on Kylie every time he glanced at her.
He swiftly moved to his next point. “You are precious to anyone who takes as much as a moment to get to know you, little one, because to know you is to see your true beauty.” His arms tightened around her and he nuzzled the soft, fragile skin at her temple. “You are very, very precious to me.”
She melted against him, which pleased him greatly, but he felt the hot warmth of tears on her cheeks, which made him want to kill something for daring to hurt her. Her relationship with her parents was clearly strained, but he sensed she might object if he tore their hearts from their chests and stomped on them.
He had to content himself with merely holding her, rocking her gently until her tears dried up and her breath went from uneven hiccups to a soft sigh. For a moment he thought she had fallen asleep until she raised a hand and laid her soft palm against his face. Unable to help himself, he turned into it and inhaled the sweet scent of her, loving the touch of bitterness that grounded her and made her somehow attainable for a monster like him.
* * *
Kylie threw her pity party for five more self-indulgent minutes. She wore the pointy hat, blew the noisemaker, threw the streamers, and ate the cake. Then she sat up and took a long hard look at the man sitting before her.
Dag looked back, his black eyes steady and unblinking, his expression calm and neutral. He didn’t push, didn’t withdraw, he just let her be.
How did he know to do that? Even she wouldn’t have been able to identify that as what she needed, but Dag knew and he gave it. Maybe that was why she trusted him; even after only a week—and what a week it had been—she knew that when he had sworn to protect her, he had meant it. And she knew that when he had sworn he was her mate, he meant that, too.
Did Kylie really want to fight him on it? After all, what good would it do? The man’s head had been carved out of granite, more literally than most, so she knew he wasn’t going to change his mind. She didn’t know if she could change hers, either, but she knew she didn’t like the person she’d been on and off for the last couple of days. She didn’t like being confused, didn’t like being angsty, didn’t like being a big, whining ball of “why me?”
Which meant that right here, right now, she was putting a stop to it. Time not just to nut up or shut up, but to make the choice that no matter what the future held, she would be fine just as long as she remembered to be Kylie.
Squirming in Dag’s embrace, she maneuvered herself to straddle his lap, pressing her knees against his hips and resting her hands on his chest. His own embrace loosened but didn’t fall away. His hands dropped to lightly clasp her hips and his face lit with curiosity.
She grinned and stroked the hard muscle hidden beneath his gray T-shirt. She knew he’d put it on for her, since he’d grumbled more than once that week over the necessity of confining human clothing when not in his natural form. Earlier, she’d been vaguely grateful. Now, she wished he hadn’t bothered.
“I’m done whining,” she announced, finding the edge of a pectoral muscle and tracing the curving line beneath the cotton covering. “I just thought you deserved to know that. And I should thank you for putting up with it. For that and for just now. What you said was really sweet. And you’re right. I’m a pretty lovable person, so I should get over myself and move on.”
He blinked, his expression looking a little dazed and more than a little confused. “You owe me no apologies, little one, nor any thanks, but I am glad to hear you acknowledge the truth.”
“That I’m lovable?” He nodded and Kylie let her grin turn wicked. “Yeah, I am.” She leaned forward and let her unbound breasts press against him while she whispered into his mouth. “Want to love me right now?”
For a second, she wondered if he had turned back to stone, but then he shot forward in a burst of speed, locked his arms around her and flipped her onto her back. While he loomed over her, growling his arousal, Kylie tipped her head back and laughed with giddy pleasure.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She giggled, loving the flash of mischief that glinted in his eyes as he relaxed and realized her blue mood had truly passed.
“Take this as well,” he rumbled just before he dove into her mouth and dragged her into a riptide of desire.
She gloried in it, encouraged it, wanting to taste his wildness and the urgency of his need. When they had come together earlier, he had been careful with her, tender and seductive, until at the end when she had goaded him into letting go.
This time, she wanted him to hold nothing back.
She tried to tell him with the fervor of her response. She nipped at his lips, sucked at his tongue, and moaned at the rich, exotic flavor of him. She pressed herself up into his restraining weight, canting her hips to cradle his hardness, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him as close as she could manage. She twisted and writhed and dug her nails into his back, and all he gave her was the steady, smoldering heat of restrained passion.
Ha! She’d show him.
It would be great if she could pull off that trick of his and just make their clothes disappear with a thought, but she wasn’t a Guardian or a witch. She’d have to drive him crazy the old-fashioned way.
Breaking free from their kiss, she turned her head to nibble her way from his jaw to the corded muscles of his throat. She heard his growl echoing in her ear before he dropped his head and began his own assault on her shoulder. He pulled the neck of her shirt aside and scraped his teeth across her pale skin before retracing the same path with his tongue.
While he distracted himself nicely, Kylie slipped one hand from its grip on his back and slid it sneakily between their bodies. Her fingers burrowed beneath the waist of his soft, drawstring pants. At the same moment that she closed her fingers around his straining erection, she twisted her head and
struck, sinking her even white teeth into the flesh where his neck and shoulder met.
Dag howled.
He shuddered like a bolt of lightning arced through him, lit up with violent arousal. Kylie had the fleeting thought that she hoped he hadn’t woken Wynn or Knox, before she decided to hell with it and stroked up his length with a tight fist. He muttered something sharp and guttural against her shoulder and half a second later she found herself imprisoned beneath more than two hundred pounds of male lust.
He had grabbed both her wrists, dragging her hands from him and pinning them to the bed above her head. While his own clothing disappeared with a thought, hers he dragged up over her head but didn’t bother to pull completely off. Instead, he bunched the fabric in his hands, twisted and manipulated it until she discovered for the first time that a properly knotted and tightened T-shirt could make an effective pair of soft, abrasion-free shackles.
Who knew?
She mentally kissed her second pair of panties of the day good-bye, since he tore them from her with even less finesse than the first pair. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to find all the pieces in the morning, but then again, she didn’t really care.
She cared even less when he grasped both her legs just above the knees and leaned forward until he blocked the entire world from her view.
“You know, it is not nice to tease, little one,” he murmured, his voice a rasping purr that raised goose bumps on her flesh and sent shivers racing down her spine. “Here. Let me show you.”
Before she could even process the threat in his words, he wrenched her legs apart and covered her pussy with his hot, hungry mouth.
Her eyes rolled so far back into her head, she’d need surgery to get them out.
His tongue lashed at her like a tender, silken whip, flicking back and forth across her swollen clit until she actually begged him to stop. He did, sort of, abandoning her clit to explore the soft folds around her entrance and stab his tongue deep inside her. What on earth had she done?
Her hips writhed in a futile attempt to escape the relentless pleasure he forced upon her. Again and again, his mouth brought her to the brink of climax, then retreated, varying or dulling the stimulation until the pressure eased and she once again fell to breathless moaning.
The man should be outlawed.
“Dag, stop.” She was panting, unable to draw in enough air for true coherence. “Enough. Just come inside me. Please. Fuck me.”
He lifted his head just enough to meet her gaze, licked his lips and shook his head. “Mm, not yet,” he growled and returned to his torture.
His lips closed around her clit and drew against it with soft, steady pulls that almost had her weeping. Her entire body felt feverish and aching, and she could feel beads of sweat trickling down her temples. She could only hope her heart was healthy enough for this kind of strain.
Desperate for relief, she brought her bound hands down and grabbed at his head, trying to pull him up and over her, but it felt like trying to shift a grand piano with her pinky finger. He batted her hands away and shoved them up out of his way before increasing the suction on her clit to something that tap-danced wildly across the line between pleasure and pain.
“Dag! Please!” she shouted, her voice hoarse and barely recognizable to her own ears. He responded by thrusting two long fingers into her soaked, empty passage and finding the spot on her inner walls that made her head explode.
The rest of her followed shortly after. The orgasm tore through her, taking her like a kitten in its teeth and shaking ruthlessly. Dag barely eased off the pressure, continuing to stroke and lick and torment until all she could do was shake and shudder and gasp for air.
Her pleas had dissolved into nothing more than a steady stream of whimpers by the time Dag lifted his head and stroked his hands soothingly across her belly and thighs. Her skin felt so sensitive that even the nonsexual touch almost set her off again.
“Such a good little human,” he crooned, continuing to rub with firm, comforting pressure, avoiding her overstimulated sex and her aching nipple until she finally felt like she could breathe again.
She forced her eyes open, surprised to realize she hadn’t just closed them, but had clenched them so tightly that they didn’t want to open. When she eventually managed it, she blinked up at him in a daze and found him watching her with that blazing black gaze.
“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning forward to brush his mouth over hers. The simple touch made her realize that while the painful level of arousal had eased, her pussy still ached and pulsed with emptiness. She needed him inside her.
Kylie reached for him and he met her halfway, swiftly removing the T-shirt from around her wrists and bringing them to his lips for a rain of tender kisses. Then his hands clasped her shoulders, lifting her upper body from the bed and pressing her tight against his chest.
“I have but scratched the surface of how I wish to love you, little Kylie,” he said, his voice a tender rasp. “I have so much more to show you.”
“Good,” she breathed and sank into his kiss.
He drew it out, deep and slow like all great kisses, the frantic pace of the last little while dissolving in a pool of languid heat. Then his teeth began to nibble, his hands stroked up her bare sides to close over her breasts, and the tension began to creep back into her muscles.
No way could she take another round of Dag’s tender torture, but she still needed to feel him inside her. Pushing herself up onto her knees, Kylie tried to swing one leg over to straddle his lap, but his hands tightened, stopping her.
She felt a whine building, and had no problem with telling him exactly what she needed, but he was already ahead of her. His hands urged her to twist until she faced away from him, staring through the darkness at the shadow of her headboard. Pressure on her shoulders eased her forward, while his grip on her hips held her lower body in place.
Eager for what was coming, she settled her knees under her and braced her forearms on the mattress, tilting her hips to offer herself to her lover. She shivered as his hands stroked across the round cheeks of her ass, and she couldn’t bite back the moan of anticipation as his fingers closed around her hips. She needed him like her next breath.
He shifted behind her, his weight making the mattress dip. She had just an instant of warning as he set the head of his cock against her entrance before he thrust inside and filled her to the brim.
She didn’t scream, but she did cry out, a long, low, trembling sound of surprise and pleasure. In this position, he felt enormous, his width stretching her tender muscles, his length seeming to press against her heart. Her pussy clenched, trying to grip and hold him in place, but he was already moving, setting a rhythm of deep, heavy thrusts that made her head whirl and her clit throb between her legs.
His harsh breathing sounded loud in the quiet room, and the slap of his hips against her ass made her blush even as it added to her arousal. She began to thrust back against him, reaching for the pleasure she could feel beginning to build low in her belly.
Dag grunted his approval and leaned forward, draping his chest over her and pressing their bodies together, drowning her in the slick feel of his skin, and his hot, earthy scent. The intimacy only drove her higher, and when he scraped his teeth over her shoulder, she shuddered and clenched around him.
“Give me your pleasure,” he demanded, grasping her hip with one hand and sliding the other beneath her to press against the tight bundle of nerves he had already spent so much time tormenting. “Come,” he said, tapping her clit with firm, deliberate pressure. “I want to feel you around me, little human. Now.”
God, she wanted it, too. She reached for the climax, feeling it shimmer on the horizon. Then she felt his teeth close over the nape of her neck, digging in and holding her in place like an animal with its mate, and she lost it.
Everything went up in flames. Her body burned from the inside out, the orgasm like a wall of flames racing from the place where they joined through every inch of
skin and muscle she possessed. She felt his hips bucking against her as he emptied himself inside her and wondered if he burned as well. Her arms and legs gave out, no longer able to support her, and she collapsed onto the mattress with a living blanket pressing her into the soft surface.
At least this time there was a sheet, she thought drowsily. As a couple, maybe they were making real progress. It was her last thought before sleep took her, but it took her smiling.
Chapter Thirteen
Az men hot a sakh tsu ton, leygt men zikh shlofn.
When you have a lot to do, go to sleep.
Kylie entered the fray with renewed energy and determination. After about twelve hours of recuperative sleep. Ridiculously hot sex could apparently take a lot out of a girl.
She had no illusions about a miraculous solution to her issues. She wasn’t naïve enough to think one conversation, one self-administered slap upside the head, and one night of whew-boy-howdy sex meant that she and Dag were now on the straight path to happily ever after. She did, however, think that a more rational way to deal with this relationship, as with any relationship, was to take things as they came and to let it evolve into its own thing.
Besides, she had other stuff to worry about. That end-of-the-world nonsense just didn’t seem to be going away on its own.
Her bagels, however, were disappearing at an alarming rate. Apparently, gargoyles as a species got a real charge out of boiled and baked rounds of dough.
Everyone had gathered in the office, naturally, with bagels and coffee or tea (or soda) in hand to answer the day’s burning question. Where the heck did they start?
“Okay, say I’m a psycho-killer Demon worshipper,” Kylie threw out, bouncing lightly on her balance ball. “I want to make a big splash and raise a whole bunch of power in one fell swoop so I can feed it to my evil overlords. How am I going to do that?”
Wynn grimaced over her mug of tea. She perched on the arm of King David’s chair, which was currently occupied. Not by the cat, but by her bagel-munching mate. “I’d like to say you’re not, but then we wouldn’t be here worrying about it.”
Rocked by Love (Gargoyles Series) Page 18
