At last, after a long silence, she spoke. “I…I thought you were going to heal my lip.”
Sylvan stroked her hair which had come loose from the knot at the back of her neck and now cascaded down her shoulders in soft chestnut waves. “I thought your heart needed healing first.”
She shifted against him, getting more comfortable. “This is nice,” she admitted softly. “I…I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”
“The fault is entirely mine,” Sylvan murmured. “The urlich aroused my protective rage. And then I got so completely focused on marking you I forgot to consider your feelings. Can you forgive me?”
“I…I think so.” She looked up at him. “I guess you can’t help the way you get when there’s an enemy around. But please just…don’t come at me that way again.”
“I won’t. I swear it.” He meant it from the bottom of his heart and Sophia seemed to sense his sincerity.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze still locked with his. “I…I appreciate that.”
“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sylvan heard the break in his own voice but he couldn’t help it. “I would die to protect you, Sophia. To think you would believe I could hurt you in any way—especially that way…” But he couldn’t go on.
“Sylvan…” She was looking at him with something like wonder on her face. “You…you’re crying,” she whispered. She sounded like she could hardly believe it.
Sylvan didn’t believe it himself. “No, I’m not.” He had never given in to such emotion, never allowed himself such weakness before. Even after his father’s passing and Feenah’s betrayal, not so much as a single tear had come to his eyes.
But Sophia was nodding. “Yes, you are. Or at least, you’re sort of leaking a little.” Reaching up, she brushed lightly at his cheek. “See?” She held out her hand. To his surprise her fingertips were wet.
“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.
“Why?” Sophia sounded genuinely curious.
He shook his head. “To show such weakness before one I am supposed to protect…it is unacceptable. Unforgivable.”
“No, it’s not.” Suddenly she put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “It’s not, Sylvan,” she whispered in his ear, pressing her soft cheek against his. “Not at all, I promise you.”
His heart swelled until he thought it might burst and he hugged her back carefully. He no longer cared if the urlich and the AllFather with all his hellish legions came upon him and killed him. At that moment, with Sophia willingly in his arms and her sweet feminine fragrance invading his senses, he knew he could die a happy and contented male. But she’ll die too. Or be captured without you to protect her.
Sophia must have had the same thought because after a long moment she pulled back and looked at him seriously.
“How long do we have until they come back and find us?” she asked softly.
Sylvan shrugged. “It could be an hour or several hours. It depends on how widely scattered their pack was in the first place and how far away the lead urlich is. They won’t form a consensus without her.”
“Her?” She frowned. “I thought everything to do with the Scourge was male. I mean, they have the AllFather and you were saying they don’t have any females…”
He nodded. “This is the one exception. Female urlich are craftier and more intelligent. So while the others in the pack might be male, the lead is always a female.”
Sophie sat up straighter in his lap and looked him in the eye. “Well, whatever they are, you need to mark me before they get back to us.”
“No.” He frowned. “No, Sophia. Absolutely not.” He’d been looking forward to the feel of her soft, naked body under his but clearly it was not to be.
However, now that she no longer felt threatened, there was a stubborn look in her lovely green eyes. “I don’t accept that. I won’t let my…my phobia be the cause of your death.”
A phobia, is it? They would have to address that later—if there was a later. And he wanted to know who “Burke” was too. But right now he’d barely gained her trust—he wasn’t about to throw it away for any reason. “I won’t do it,” he told her.
“But—”
“Think what you’re asking, Sophia,” he said gently. “If I mark you the traditional way I’ll have to be on top of you, completely naked and you’ll have to be naked as well, under me, open for me. I’ll have to be touching you, rubbing myself against you. Do you really think you can handle that with your…” He paused, trying to think how to put it. “With your phobia?” he finished, using her word.
Sophia paled and he could see she was considering what he’d said. “No,” she said at last in a low voice. “No I…I’m pretty sure having you, uh, on top of me would probably set me off again.” She looked up at him. “But…didn’t you say earlier there was another way to, uh, to mark a female? I mean…when you were talking about…about wanting to…to taste me…” Her voice had fallen so low that he could barely hear it and her cheeks were a bright pink. “I mean, if you…if that wouldn’t bother you too much.” She looked down at her small hands as though she couldn’t stand to meet his eyes.
Sylvan found her embarrassment both charming and incredibly arousing.
“I could mark you with my mouth,” he said, a surge of lust rushing through him at the thought. To kneel before her and spread her open, to taste her sweet juices and lap her soft little pussy until she moans and cries…Goddess how he wanted that! But he wanted to be careful with her as well. “We Kindred have scent glands around our lips and mouths as well as between our legs,” he told her. “But I don’t want to hurt or embarrass you.”
Sophie looked up at him again, the light of determination in her eyes. “I trust you not to hurt me and, well, being embarrassed is better than being dead,” she said in a voice that wavered only a little. “And I mean, you could just kind of…uh, rub against me some? Maybe? I mean you wouldn’t have to actually…you know.”
“I could,” he agreed gravely. “Though I would have to be very, very thorough. The scent glands around my mouth aren’t as strong as those on my shaft.”
“That’s all right.” She looked down at her hands again. “As long as you’re not on top of me, I think…think I can handle it. That is… if…if you really don’t mind.”
“Sophia, look at me.” Lifting her chin gently, he made her look into his eyes. “Nothing on this world or any other would give me more pleasure than spreading you open and tasting your sweet juices,” he murmured. “You need never have a question about that.”
“Oh,” she whispered and her cheeks were nearly crimson now. “I…thank you, I guess.”
“But I realize,” Sylvan continued, trying to gauge her reaction. “That we’re doing this for necessity, not pleasure. So if you’d rather, I can try to keep it…” He frowned. “I don’t know the word in your language.”
“Businesslike?” she offered. “Professional?”
Sylvan nodded. “Yes, I guess those work. What I’m saying is, I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are. So I’ll just do what is necessary—no more, no less.”
“Okay.” She was looking a little more comfortable with the idea now, which eased his heart. No matter how much he longed to savor her juices and bring her to orgasm again and again, her comfort was more important than his need. “Just one more thing,” she said in a small voice.
“Anything,” Sylvan told her. “You have only to ask, Talana.”
“I…well…I don’t want to offend you but…” She hesitated for a long moment but he waited patiently until she went on. “Could you do it…uh mark me…without letting your…your fangs come out?” she asked at last. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you but that’s kind of a very delicate area and…and…”
“No, it’s all right. I understand.” He nodded, trying to look unconcerned but inside his heart burned again. She still fears me. Still fears what I am. “I can do that—hold them back if I concentrate,” he said.
Though it was going to hurt like a son of a bitch.
“Oh thank you. Thank you for understanding.” She looked so relieved that Sylvan couldn’t help feeling another twinge. Of course, under normal circumstances, Blood Kindred never made love without his fangs completely extended. Then again, if these were normal circumstances he would be planning to bite her thigh at the moment she came and Sylvan knew she would never agree to that. It’s for necessity, not pleasure, he reminded himself sternly. She doesn’t actually want you to taste her—just mark her, that’s all.
“It’s all right,” he said roughly, stroking her hair. “In fact, I’ll make you a promise here and now, Sophia. I will never bite you for any reason—unless you ask me to.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
He nodded. “Really. I swear it as a Blood Kindred and a warrior. And we do not break our oaths.”
“I know that well enough, by now.” She smiled and reached out tentatively to brush his cheek. “Thank you, Sylvan. You really know how to put me at ease.”
“I’m glad you feel safe with me again,” he said sincerely. “But we really should get started. We don’t know when the urlich will come back.”
“All right.” Slowly she slid from his lap and settled herself on the bed again with her thighs slightly apart. “I guess I’m ready.”
“I’ll try to take things slowly and let you know what I’m doing each step of the way,” Sylvan assured her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, shifting her hips a little, as though trying to get comfortable. “I’ve, uh, just so you know I’ve never done this—or had it done to me, I guess—before. So I’m not quite sure how—”
“Like this.” Lust surged inside him again as he positioned her gently, pulling her down to the end of the bed until her calves and feet hung over the side.
“Oh.” She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him anxiously as he knelt on the floor between her legs. “Why…why like that?”
“It’s the best way to open you completely,” Sylvan explained, placing his hands on her inner thighs. “I told you I’ll have to be very thorough. I need to be able to spread you open and stay between your legs for a long, long time. Long enough to mark you completely.”
“Oh,” she whispered again and there was a soft, breathless tone to her voice that told him she was embarrassed and excited at once. He liked hearing that tone—liked it a lot.
“You can watch if you want,” he offered, caressing her thighs. Gods but she had such soft, smooth skin… “If you’ve never been tasted before you might want to see what I’m doing.”
Her face was bright pink now but she was watching him with a fascination that belied her embarrassment. “You…you wouldn’t mind?”
“I’d love it,” Sylvan assured her in a low voice. “I’d love to be able to look up and see your face while I’m marking you. In fact…here.” Standing for a moment he took several of the pillows from the head of the bed and propped them behind her back. “There,” he said, resuming his position between her legs. “Might as well get comfortable. We’re going to be here for awhile.”
“Okay,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
“No.” Sylvan bowed his head briefly. “Thank you for allowing me to mark you, Sophia. You honor me with your trust and the gift of your body.”
“Sylvan…” she murmured, lingering over his name in a way that sent another surge of lust through him. Gods, how he wanted to hear her call for him in the throes of passion! But I’m only here to mark, not taste, he reminded himself sternly.
“I’m going to begin now, Talana,” he told her. Slowly, trying to gauge her reaction, he unbuttoned the last few buttons of the blue uniform shirt and spread it open, baring her completely for him. Sophie shifted a little but said nothing, so he placed both hands on her thighs and began to part them gently but firmly.
At first she trembled under his touch and resisted him but Sylvan looked up and caught her gaze. “Look at me, Sophia,” he commanded softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to mark you and bring you pleasure. Can you open yourself for me and let me do that?”
She looked at his face for a long moment and what she saw must have reassured her. Slowly she nodded. “…yes.”
“Good.” He applied gentle pressure again and this time her knees parted completely, revealing the soft little mound of her sex.
For a moment Sylvan just looked at her. She was so beautiful, so perfectly formed it took his breath away. His fangs, which had automatically retracted when he’d sensed her fear and anguish, were already aching to come out. Again he had the sensation of his cock being trapped in too-tight pants but he set his teeth and grimly ignored it. This was about pleasing Sophia. Showing her he wasn’t a beast—that he could be gentle and non-threatening and tender. That was all that mattered.
Sophia must have misinterpreted his silence because she cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably.
“Uh, I’m sorry I’m not waxed or anything. That, uh, area doesn’t really see a lot of action so—”
“You’re perfect.” Sylvan looked up at her, letting her see the admiration and lust in his eyes. “And I like your curls.” He brushed his fingertips over them lightly, making her shiver in response. “They make you more sensitive, I think.”
Sophie looked relieved. “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind…”
“I don’t,” Sylvan assured her, looking between her thighs again. Gods but her fragrance was delicious. And the outer lips of her sex were so pink and soft and innocent looking—like the petals of an exotic flower that had yet to bloom.
Sylvan knew she was no virgin—the things she’d said led him to believe as much. And as for her “phobia”—there had to be a cause for it. Possibly a past lover had hurt or frightened her. Or worse, he thought darkly. But whatever the case, she couldn’t have had many lovers—or any that knew what they were doing. How could any man have access to such beauty and ignore it? How could he not wish to be between her legs for hours every day, exploring her lush pussy with his tongue?
She shifted again. “Is…is everything okay?”
“Fine.” Sylvan realized he was spending too much time admiring her. “Forgive me,” he told her. “But you’re so beautiful I don’t want to rush things.”
“Yes, but the urlich…”
“You’re right.” Bending, he pressed his face to her inner thigh, breathing in her heady aroma before looking up at her. “It’s time we began.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sophie couldn’t believe she was letting him do this. After her scare earlier when she’d been sure he was going to do the unthinkable, she wouldn’t have thought she could ever trust him again. Let alone trust him enough to spread her legs for him and let him put his mouth on her. But the look on his face when he’d realized how badly he had scared her had changed her mind.
And his tears, she thought watching him as he bent over her. There had only been a few and he had been completely silent as they fell—nothing like her own inconsolable sobbing. But they had touched her deeply. Somehow she knew those ice blue eyes didn’t cry often or easily—if at all. Yet he had wept for the pain he’d caused her and she had heard the anguish in his voice when he asked her forgiveness. It touched her heart somehow, made her want to give him another chance.
A long sigh fell out of her as he pressed his face to her inner thigh, rubbing his slightly scratchy cheek against her skin, almost like a cat. I just can’t figure him out—he’s such a contradiction. One minute he’s this fearsome warrior, scary enough to give anyone nightmares for a month and the next he’s utterly gentle and sweet. And patient and kind and…watch it, Sophie, she told herself sternly. Don’t forget that under those kissable-looking lips are a pair of fangs that would make Dracula jealous. And—
But just then all coherent thought was driven from her mind because Sylvan was tasting her.
Not her pussy—not yet. But he was running his tongue slowly up her inner thigh in a way t
hat made her heart pound madly against her ribs.
“What…” she whispered uncertainly. “Why…?”
Sylvan looked up. “The moisture will help my scent adhere to your skin. Do you object to me licking you?”
“No, I…no,” Sophie whispered.
“Good.” His eyes burned with need. “Because I’m going to have to do a lot of licking to mark you properly.”
“I just…wasn’t expecting it. I guess I just thought you’d, you know, dive right in?”
He frowned slightly. “Where would be the pleasure in that? I want to savor you, Sophia. To burn the memory of you opening for me into my mind forever.”
“Oh,” she gasped as he licked her other thigh, his warm wet tongue stopping just short of her outer pussy lips. God, but he was sexy when he talked like that! She almost felt like she could come just from hearing his deep, warm voice. But of course I’m not going to be coming, she told herself sternly. He’s just marking me—just masking my scent. That’s all.
Trying to keep that thought in mind, she watched as he continued to bathe her thighs with his tongue, tracing the tender crease where each leg joined her body but never quite touching her center, until she felt like she was going to scream with anticipation.
Sylvan must have sensed her impatience because he looked up at her, eyes blazing and murmured, “Are you ready for me to mark your pussy now, Sophia?”
“Y-yes. I guess so,” she stammered. God, she still couldn’t believe he was doing this—even more unbelievable was that she wanted him to. Wanted to feel his warm lips and hot breath against her pussy in a way she’d never wanted anything before.
Sylvan was watching her—feeding off the need she was certain he could see on her face. Still, he took things slowly. “I’ll just mark the outside at first,” he promised softly. “I won’t spread you open and mark the inside of your pussy until I’m sure you’re ready.”
Hunted_Book 2 Brides of the Kindred Page 16
