He already disliked the room. It had a high percentage of glass, which left her very exposed, to his way of thinking. The decking wrapped around from western glass doors to northern ones, then on to include the bathroom as well. Since the house was in the mountains, surrounded by nothing but trees and vast lawns, there was no need for curtains, blinds, or even tinting. She was on the third floor and isolated in the mountains, so, under normal circumstances, why should she worry about exposure? He checked the bath doors and windows, giving the deck a scan, then moved to do the same for the bedroom.
He could hear her breathing deeply and evenly, a heavy, restful sound shadowed by a purring feminine snore of sorts. It made him smile, and like so many things about her, it titillated him sexually when least expected. He absently checked the lock on the door as his gaze drifted over to the bed. As his eyes adjusted fully to the darkness, he could see her sprawled face down among mounds of bedding and a half-dozen pillows. He stepped closer and brought her into better focus.
The first thing he noticed was the spread of dark hair over the pillows and mattress. He followed the bare expanse of a long, beautiful spine right up to the upswept curve of her bottom, where a sheet and comforter concealed the rest of her from sight. Her hands were above her head and he could see the swelling of her breast squeezing out from between the weight of her body and the press of the mattress on the side nearest to him. There was something submissive about the pose, the antithesis of her powerful personality and steady strength. As erotic as he found her strength, this was equally stimulating, proving to him that she truly was sex incarnate. Even when she wasn’t conscious of it.
At least, she was to him.
Her skin glowed just about iridescent in the moonlight, even though it wasn’t very strong moonlight. As he stared at her, all he could think was that she looked so warm. So incredibly warm. All of that skin. Soft, warm, promising responsiveness that he already knew too well. And yet not well enough.
Liam crossed to the bed in two strides, gently standing his flashlight on the bedside table.
Liam Nash, this is known as a betrayal of trust.
That inner voice in his head was telling it like it was, no doubt about it. She trusted him to come into her room while she was vulnerable and asleep. What he was doing was no better than what that animal had intended to do before shooting up her hotel room like a carnival gallery.
No. It was even worse. Worse because she depended on him. He knew she depended on no one, yet had chosen to trust him to guard her back. Not to ogle it and think far too luridly vivid thoughts of sex and lust.
What in the world had gotten into him?
She had. She’d crawled under his skin and was putting down roots. She wore insanely provocative dresses, spoke incredibly intelligent observations, and sat by his bed for seventy-two hours, spending most of that time soothing him. She had survived the unthinkable fifty years ago. She made him laugh, made him think, and invented weapons no other man, woman, or Morphate could or would.
Yeah. He was in big trouble all right.
The part that sucked was that a man like him thrived on trouble.
He could also thrive on satin smooth skin, given half a chance.
Liam kept his breathing soft and even as he leaned over and reached for the center of the bed. His fingertips touched her back and he swallowed down a groan of pleasure. She was so supple it was like running his fingers through piles of silky, yielding talc that clung to you no matter which way you turned your fingers. He followed the curve of her spine, feeling the light chill of her skin because the room air was so cool.
Devon made a low sound reminiscent of a purr and he felt her move as if to follow his touch, seeking more. She sighed when her shift brought his entire palm onto her skin. Her movements were like those of a woman being made love to, slow and sensuous, receptive to the roaming touch of her lover.
God, how Liam wanted to be that lover. There was no use in denying that any longer. His body was singing with readiness in answer to her influence, blatantly hard as if to pronounce boldly what was expected of him. All it had taken was a touch, a sound, and the smallest movement.
Devon suddenly rolled over, her breast sliding fully into his hovering hand as she settled. Liam found himself with a dark, tempting nipple between two fingers, the tip already pointed toward the ceiling. Any sane man would have drawn the line right there, pulling back and thanking the powers that be that he hadn’t gotten caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Why, oh why, he wondered, couldn’t he be that man? He’d never before let his cock do the thinking for him. What was so damned different this time?
“Liam …”
The low murmur of his name was spoken in the dead of sleep, he was convinced of it. He squeezed his eyes shut as his entire body thrummed hotly in response to it. Did this mean she dreamed of him? Did she fantasize about his touch on her body, just like this? Liam gently squeezed his two fingers together, pinching that pert nipple ever so slightly, and thrilling in her instant moaning reaction, the arcing of her back, the raising of her knees in restless invitation.
Liam abruptly jerked himself away from her, twisting into an about-face and sliding down to the floor with his back pressed to the mattresses. He groaned with frustration and disgust, covering his face with his hands. What in hell was he doing? This was a violation! Pure and simple. There was no room for interpretation. He shoved himself to his feet and grabbed for the flashlight. To his surprise, his hand hit air. It wasn’t on the table where he was positive he’d left it. Thinking he had knocked it over, he bent to check the floor.
Suddenly, a straight beam of light blinded him in his unprotected eyes. While he shouted at the unexpected pain, he felt strong hands grabbing him by his shirt and throwing him over and down onto the bed. He was about to retaliate when he felt long legs swinging over him and framing his hips, and familiar feminine weight resting on his belly. Her hair brushed his face, filling him with that scent that was so sweet and so Devon.
“Devon! What the hell?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” she pointed out huskily, her torso lowering across his until he felt her breath rushing over his lips. “What are you doing, Liam?”
“Checking the locks,” he said hoarsely as he realized he could feel the heat and weight of her bare breasts through his thin T-shirt.
“Are there locks on the floor beside my bed?” she queried, whispering the rushed words over his lips, every syllable a teasingly light kiss.
“Devon, please,” he groaned as her hands roamed over his hair, neck, and chest. It was too much stimulation all at once. Her swaying bottom was rocking against his fly, taunting him with the knowledge that she was completely nude and rubbing herself against him. He grew so hard he could have pounded nails. It was gorgeously painful, agonizingly wonderful.
“You know what I think?” she asked, her body lifting so her hands could slide down his chest and marble-hard abdomen, following each defined muscle with smooth surety. He felt her smile lightly against his mouth when his belly flinched beneath her fingers. “I think you were sitting there watching me. Wondering,” she breathed, her tongue dipping to lick between his lips. Liam groaned as his head spun with pleasure. Her aggression was maddening. Hot. “Wondering what I feel like here,” she swayed her breasts across his hidden nipples. “Wondering what I taste like there.” Devon shifted her hips over him, riding him in a silky sway that nearly unmanned him. When his vision finally cleared of starbursts enough to see her riding astride him, head back in bliss, breasts thrust out for his pleasure, he grabbed her arms and sat up with her, forcing her weight down on his overtaxed body as he held her off balance.
“And what if I was?” he rasped roughly. He swung her around, driving her down into the bed beneath him, playing her game by grinding his hips forward between her splayed legs. She trilled out a long low moan of pleasure, her head rolling as her fingers gripped his arms madly.
Liam broke under that respons
e. He reared up on his knees over her and stripped off his T-shirt. He came back over her, his mouth swooping first for her breast, seizing the nipple. He rolled and sucked the hard tip between his hungry lips. He flicked her with teasing tongue strokes, bit with light scrapes of teeth.
“Liam!” she gasped. Devon felt her entire body combust. From that one point he started a ferocious fire, causing licking flames and molten liquid to drip from her body. He surged up to catch her mouth and ravaged her with breathtakingly seductive kisses. Her hands roamed his broad bare back with hunger and delight. They slid into his hair, over his neck, eased over his injured shoulder. Dipped deep below his waist, bumping over his weapons belt to curve over his buttocks and draw him closer down.
Liam had craved the feel of her body too much to be rushed, but he was on fire. Her breasts filled his palms to perfection again and again as he tried to learn her beautiful, writhing form.
She felt every touch with incredible intensity.
“Your hands burn,” she breathed into his ear on a moan as he was spreading that conflagration down her hips and thighs.
“Your entire body is burning,” he growled as she proved his point with a chain of gasps and something muttered about ‘calluses.’ Liam smiled slowly when he understood what she found so incredibly stimulating. His rough fingers could do things she couldn’t even imagine. Often they were a point of complaint, but he should have known she’d never be usual. He ran the rough edges of his fingers over both her nipples and rode with her when she lunged up off the bed. “Ah … liked that, did you?”
Her vivid eyes flew open as she panted and stared into his eyes as if seeing him for the first time. It was an unsettling thing to be on the receiving end of. For a moment he was afraid she’d come to her senses and he was about to be booted out of heaven.
“Liam,” she uttered roughly, making his cock twitch just at the sound. “Liam, I couldn’t bear if I hurt you,” she whispered.
He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what her arousal was doing to her, what it was taking to rest calmly beneath him, to pull back and try and emulate what she had once been when she had been human. She could be so dangerous to him. Didn’t he realize that?
And why wasn’t she pulling away? Why wasn’t she doing everything in her power to protect him?
“I can’t resist you,” she gasped, her hands grasping and stroking over his smoothly furred chest. She raked her fingernails through the hair. “There’s something about you that makes me throw myself open to you again and again. Liam, I want you so much and I don’t understand why.”
“Join the club, sweetheart,” he soothed her gently as he took up her mouth in a languorous, deep kiss that went on and on until he felt her calves wrapping around his thighs and her fingers deep in his hair.
“You could hate me one day,” she whispered against his lips. “So many people hate me now. I feel it all around me … except when I feel you all around me. How do you do that?”
“You think I have the answer to that? The only thing I can tell you is that I’m really glad this is mutual. You do things to me that I never thought were possible.” He kissed her again, coaxing her back into that quickly heating frenzy that made her writhe beneath him. “Feel me, sweetheart?” he breathed hotly, rotating his hips so she would know her power over his body. “Tell me how it feels,” he demanded as she moaned softly.
“Hard. Hot,” she gasped, her breasts heaving with every breath. “Dangerous.” She reached to grip his weapons belt, running her hands around to unbuckle it. Before it could be pulled away, though, she would have to undo the second fastening around his thigh on his holster side. She anticipated it quickly and ran a purposeful finger down his inner thigh until she had deftly undone it. She let it fall away, let it tumble off the bed with a loud thump. They both knew how dangerous it was to let the bullets within be treated carelessly, but neither was considering caution in that moment.
Liam began to slide his hands over her again, covering her breasts, belly, and hips. He worked his hand down between the press of their bodies, petting her hairless mound and feeling the viscous cream of her heat already wetting his fingertips. He closed his eyes tightly for a minute as he fought for control. When he opened them, he pinned her down by his gaze alone. He wanted to see her eyes as he touched her and brought her to pleasure. He wanted to watch her seductive, sly features contort in bliss.
Liam slid his touch between her folds and let his calluses run ever so lightly over aroused, anticipating flesh. She soaked his fingers. Devon sucked in her breath as he easily found the swollen bead of flesh that could manipulate her into passion. That was when he realized she had been right. Just like she had said, what he wanted most was to have her against his hungry mouth. Among so many desires overwhelming him, that was the one ringing loudest and truest in that moment.
“Oh God, Liam, you’re killing me,” she cried when his light, absent-minded touch taunted her. Liam flicked a firm thumb over that sensitive bud, rolling around the edges of it in slow, lazy circles until her hips were swirling with the rhythm. She moaned in response, erotic expressions crossing her beautiful face. In the end, that was why he stuck to his original desire. He wanted to watch her come. He licked a nipple and blew across it. Then he slid farther down her body and parting her labia to expose her clit to him, he was able to lick her just as tauntingly across her clit. Once. Just once. A lick and a long chilling blow before the relentless thumb returned.
“You taste like a dream,” he groaned, burying his face in her belly as he rode out the surges of screaming demand that he free his strangling cock and bury himself balls deep inside of her. Yes. Oh, God, yes he wanted that.
“You don’t know me,” she breathed, her legs clutching at him restlessly, her hands pushing against his chest. It was as if she were trying to hold on to him and push him away at the same time.
Devon closed her eyes, tilting back her head, trying not to let the beast inside of her out as it suddenly came knocking at the door with raging, pounding fists. In this, it refused to be controlled. This time she did push him away, shoved him, actually, using her preternatural strength to do so. She sent him nearly off the far edge of the king-sized bed, even as she rolled blindly away and dropped to the floor. She scrambled to her feet and lurched toward the bedroom door, but he had recovered himself with amazing alacrity and grabbed hold of her before she could so much as touch the knob.
“What the freaking hell?” he demanded as he hauled her about, forcing her to face him, both of them banging her backward into the door.
She couldn’t bear being near him. The smell of him lured the animal inside her much too strongly. She held her breath, looked away … curled her hands and held them away as best she could. It was all fruitless. There was no pretending Liam wasn’t there. Not with the heat of his body so intense from lovemaking and anger, the blend so potent and fierce.
“What is this?” he demanded, giving her a little shake as he tried to see her face in the darkness. But they had moved away from the windows so there was much less moonlight to help him. “Some kind of tease? Are you playing some kind of game?”
Even as he said it, Liam couldn’t make himself believe it. Her responses had been too genuine. Too abandoned. Or so it had seemed.
Liam continued to trap her against the door with the heavy press of his body, but he recalled how only instants ago she had proven to him that she could put up a very powerful fight if she was of a mind to. If she was strong enough to send his full weight flying, then she was as strong as they came.
Come on, Liam, think, he commanded of himself.
Then her recent words finally sank into his awareness.
I don’t want you to hate me … You don’t know me.
He reached for her face. Gripping her chin and tilting it up, he forced her to look at him. He focused on her through the darkness and countermanded her when she tried to get free again. Light shone on her left cheek, chin, and lips … and the white
gleam of the fang that had grown to peek through them. He moved a fingertip up to touch it and she fought a bit harder this time to resist him, forcing him to lay all of his weight against her, digging his feet into the floor to keep her from squirming free.
“No! You show me! You find that courage that I have seen in every cell of your being and you show me what you think will make me shun you!”
That managed to quiet her like no show of human strength could possibly have done.
“It’s not cowardice,” she insisted, the words having the softest of lisps because the anatomy of her mouth had been restructured and she was sporting deadly white fangs. She was holding her chin up and looking him in the eye as she did so, as brave as she’d ever been. “I … you’re human. And I am not. It is very rare for Morphates and humans to be well matched. It … it takes a particular kind of human to be able to withstand what we are when we’re aroused. Especially when aroused to the point that you have brought me to, Liam.”
Logically and intellectually he knew that. He had known it every time he had entertained thoughts of having her when in a calm and reasonable moment. But he tended to forget all of it when he touched her. No. She wasn’t afraid. She was protecting. Protecting him. From herself.
But he had asked himself these questions already. Dozens of times. In the secretive, speculating parts of his brain that had considered crossing the line with her, he had imagined what it might be like and had found himself insanely titillated by the thought of it. But he had known for quite some time that his sexual tastes did not run toward the mild or mundane.
“And you didn’t think I had ever considered that?” he asked her with amusement poured into his voice as liberally as syrup onto pancakes.
“Well, I …”
He could almost envision the gears turning in her head, as well as the soft flush rising on her skin as she began to breathe a little more quickly. However, he knew she would overthink, just as he would overthink if given enough time to do so. It was intriguing to realize how much they had in common. And if she was like him, then she worked best thinking on her feet and in the moment.
Dangerous Page 19
