Boxed Set

by Brenda K. Davies

  She eagerly tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin, needing to feel him. Her hands skimmed over his warm, solid flesh. A tremor of delight rippled through her as he pulled back to allow her to pull his shirt free, giving her access to what she desperately sought. Her breath froze in her lungs as she took in the broad magnificence of his solid chest. Black hair curled across it, encircling his small nipples before tapering down his flat stomach. Her mouth went dry as she ran her hands across him and shuddered with desire and anticipation.

  He bent back to her, seizing hold of her mouth and ravishing her until she was breathless, and shaking. Her hands wrapped around his back and dug into his flesh. His muscles bunched and flexed beneath her touch. She was frantic to get closer to him, to feel more of him, all of him. Her body was burning with want, aching and trembling as she pressed herself against him.

  Stefan couldn't take anymore, couldn't slow down, no matter how much he wanted to. He was away from her for too long, denied himself too long. She had denied him for too long, and he had to have her —now.

  He ripped her shorts off, heedless of the cry of surprise she issued. He met her gaze, but there was no trepidation in her eyes like he’d expected, only a fiery passion which matched his own. He quickly pulled off her shirt. Unable to take the time to bother with her bra hooks, he tore it free, determined to expose her full breasts and luscious body.

  He savored the sight of her as she lay panting beneath him. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. Her breasts, with their inviting strawberry buds, heaved as she trembled and quivered beneath him. A shudder tore through him as he bent his head and sucked on her nipple. He licked and nipped at the hardened bud. He relished in the feel of her as she bucked and moaned beneath him.

  Her frenzied motions and muted cries only served to fuel his passion further out of control. He fumbled with the button on his jeans; his hands shook so fiercely with anticipation he couldn't get them undone. Frustration claimed him as he tore them open, wrenching them off with a violent, jerking motion. He tore at her underwear, pulling it free as he settled himself between her long, inviting thighs.

  His hand slid to the juncture of her thighs, groaning as he discovered her already wet and hot for him. He slid a finger into her, stroking and loving her as she arched against him. Stefan knew he should take more time, prepare her more, but the feel of her hot sheath clenching his finger was more than he could stand.

  Everything was happening too fast, a part of him knew that, and tried to stop it. But the other part, the bigger part, was beyond any sense of control or reason. He had to have her. He was on fire, burning with the intensity of his emotions, and the passion consuming him. He drove into her, tearing through the barrier of her virginity with a savage cry of possession.

  Isabelle’s nails clawed his back as pain tore through her. A whimper escaped as he went still inside her and the muscles of his back flexed beneath her hands.

  "I'm sorry, Isabelle," he grated hoarsely in her ear.

  An emotion so profound welled up in her until she almost started to cry again. She clung to his sweat-slicked body as her muscles gradually began to loosen around him and eased to his invasion. He kissed her neck before nibbling on her ear as he slid out of her and deliberately back in. Isabelle relaxed around him as the tenderness began to fade. The passion of moments before returned as she met the undulating movement of his hips.

  He kissed and touched her everywhere, unable to get enough of the feel of her silken body against his. He kneaded and massaged her breasts as he reclaimed one of her nipples with his mouth again. Her hands dug into his back as she arched against him, and delicious whimpers of pleasure escaped from her. Now that he was inside her, now that he had her, his urgency receded, and he took the time to enjoy the sensations she stirred in him. He had never felt anything as wonderfully tight, warm, and wet as she was, never experienced such pleasure in his life.

  "Wrap your legs around me," he grated against her lips.

  Her eyes opened as she wrapped her long legs around his waist. A cry of rapture issued from her as the movement caused him to slide even further into her warm body. Stefan groaned; he clenched his teeth against the urge to spill inside her. He enjoyed the play of emotions sliding over her face and the passion darkening her eyes to deep purple. Her lids started to close.

  "No, watch me," he ordered.

  Her eyes flew back open, wide and startled. Then, she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her hips began to rise and fall with him as she found, and matched, his rhythm. He watched her fixedly as his hands fondled and caressed her. Passion parted her lips, caused her breath to quicken and her body to quiver. He knew she was nearing release by the flicker of surprise crossing her face.

  He slid his hand between her thighs to stroke the quivering bud begging for his attention. Soft cries whispered from her, and she enthusiastically met his fierce, pounding rhythm.

  "Now," he commanded as he drove into her. "Come for me now, Isabelle!"

  She cried out loudly; her body clenched around him as the force of her spasms ripped his orgasm from him. The strength of it tore a bellow of satisfaction and delight from him. Never had he experienced anything as wonderful or fulfilling. He hadn't thought it could exist.

  He nearly collapsed on top of her but managed to catch himself in time. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her to the side as small tremors continued to shake her body. He remained inside her as her head settled on his shoulder. His breathing was still rough and ragged, and he was pleased to note hers was too. Their bodies were coated with sweat as he pulled her against him, a feeling of utter contentment stealing through him. This was where he belonged, he realized.

  "You left me," she whispered.

  He nuzzled the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't do it again."

  "I won't," he promised.

  "Good."

  She snuggled closer to him and was instantly asleep. Stefan smiled as he held her against him, savoring in the scent of their lovemaking and her delicious body against his. He knew he should be concerned about how much he cared for her and the evil inside him. However, for the first time in his long existence, he felt at peace. He was never going to let her know about his past, never going to look back again. He savored in the feel of her as he drifted to sleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Isabelle instinctively nestled closer to Stefan's warm body when she woke the next morning. His arm tightened around her as he drew her closer. "Good morning," he murmured in her ear.

  She smiled as she rolled over to face him. His hair, tousled from sleep, fell across his forehead with a boyish appeal that warmed her heart. Her smile deepened as she brushed the hair off his forehead. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. The impact of his smile was enough to make her melt.

  "Did you miss me while I was gone?" he inquired.

  "I barely even noticed," she lied.

  His smile deepened. "Really?"

  Isabelle’s body quickened in anticipation as he caressed her hip and came back up to circle her breast. Her nipple hardened as his finger traced around it. "Maybe a little," she whispered breathlessly.

  His smile was wicked as he bent and licked her taut nipple before pulling away from her. "Just a little?"

  She bit her bottom lip as she stared into his gleaming eyes. "Did you miss me?" she demanded.

  "Did I miss being avoided, run away from, tortured, and sexually frustrated?" Isabelle scowled at him as he smiled down at her. "Yes, I did."

  She laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  "More than a little?" he growled.

  A small thrill shot through her at the feel of his hair-roughened chest against her sensitive breasts. He slid his leg between hers and nudged her thighs apart. Isabelle's breath froze in her lungs as his hand slid down and he began to stroke her. A small gasp escaped as his finger slid inside and her hips began to move slowly with the pace he set.

 
"More than a little?" he murmured against her lips as his other hand leisurely fondled her breast.

  Isabelle could barely think through the pleasure consuming her, let alone speak. His hand slid away from her. Isabelle groaned her protest as she wiggled closer to him. Chuckling, he nibbled on her bottom lip. He grabbed her hips, pulling her against him and rubbing the tip of his erect shaft teasingly against her aching, wet center. Isabelle opened her legs to accept his invasion, but it didn't come.

  "More than a little?" he demanded.

  Her lips parted as he continued to rub against her. She couldn't take any more of the sweet torture he was putting her through, she would have conceded anything to him. "Yes!" she cried.

  He smiled as he slid into her. Isabelle slipped her arms around his neck and dragged his mouth down to hers. The world fell away as his body moved over her, enveloping her with his strength, security, and warmth. He caught each of her sighs with his mouth as he leisurely explored, tasted, and made love to her. She touched him everywhere, relishing in the feel of the strong muscles cording his back, chest, thighs, and ass as they grew slick with sweat.

  Her hands dug into his back as he drove her closer to the brink of ecstasy he’d pushed her over last night. He was her only anchor in the sea of pleasure engulfing her. He grasped her hands, dragging them above her head and pinning them down as he drove more aggressively into her. Isabelle's legs clenched around him as she eagerly met his increasing movements. He held her wrists in one hand as he reached between their bodies to rub against her quivering nub. She screamed as waves of ecstasy rocked her.

  He drove into her, spilling everything into her as her body contracted around him. He collapsed, his breathing ragged as he pulled her against his chest, absorbing the tremors shaking her. He rolled her to the side as he tried to calm the pounding of his heart and catch his breath. It was only then he thought about how roughly he’d taken her, twice now. He should have taken it easier on her; she must be sore from last night still.

  "Are you okay?" he grated.

  "Uh huh," she replied as she nuzzled against his chest.

  "Did I hurt you?" he demanded.

  Isabelle frowned at the concern in his voice. She lifted her head to look at him. He studied her intently, his apprehension apparent in the pinched lines around his mouth and eyes.

  "No, why would you think that?" she asked.

  He continued to search her face intently, obviously not believing what she told him. "I know I hurt you last night."

  "Only a little," she assured him.

  "And today, it was too soon; I should have waited a day or two before taking you again."

  She smiled down at him sweetly as she shook her head. "I would have taken you."

  He laughed as he pulled her down for a long, lingering kiss. "Would you now?" he murmured against her lips.

  "Yes, I would," she said with a nod and a smile.

  "I wasn't too rough with you?"

  "No," she assured him as her fingers curled into the hair on his chest. To his utter amazement, he felt himself growing hard again as she smiled down at him seductively.

  "Next time, we'll go slow and really make love."

  Her forehead furrowed as she stared at him in confusion. "I thought we already did."

  He laughed as he shook his head. "No, there is so much more to learn, and I am going to enjoy teaching you all of it."

  Her eyes darkened as she bit her bottom lip. "I see," she whispered.

  Isabelle lowered her lashes before he could see the distress tearing through her. She’d managed to forget all her concerns about inadequacy in her happiness to see him, to have him, but they all came back to her now. His words made her realize how little she knew, and how very much he did know.

  She wanted to crawl out of bed and run away from him, but she didn't want him to know how upset she was. It would help if he would at least say something to reassure her; tell her she hadn't been a disappointment, or worse, downright awful, but she would die before she ever asked him about it.

  "Isabelle." She turned back to him, hopeful he’d somehow sensed her insecurity and would reassure her. "I told you that you wouldn't kick me out of your room."

  Her mouth dropped. There was a teasing gleam in his eyes, but his words, coupled with her doubts, brought a flood of anger forth. She instantly rolled away and climbed out of bed.

  "Hey, come back here!" he protested laughingly.

  "No!" she retorted as she made her way to the bathroom.

  "What is the matter with you?" he demanded.

  She spun to face him, planting her hands on her hips as she glared at him. "Why can't you ever say something nice? Why do you always have to be such an arrogant ass?"

  Stefan would be amused by her obvious ire, and especially her stance, if it weren't for the hurt blazing from her eyes. He didn't understand it. He was only teasing her, but it was apparent she’d taken it the wrong way.

  "Isabelle—"

  "You know what, get out! Get out now!"

  Rage sizzled through him as he thrust the tangled sheet away and sat up. "I am not going anywhere!”

  "Yes, you are. I want you to leave."

  Usually, he wouldn't get so incensed, but after the torment of the past three days, hearing her telling him to get out wasn’t something he would tolerate. He knew she’d been as unhappy as him, but she was more than willing to toss him out of her life again, and the last thing he wanted was to lose her. He had no idea how he’d allowed her to get so much control over him when it was evident he had almost none over her, and it infuriated him.

  "I don't care what you want!" he retorted. "I'm not going anywhere because you can't take a joke!"

  Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "You're an insensitive, cruel, idiot! Get out, and don't come back!"

  The tears nearly blinded her as she whirled around, ran into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her. She was acting like an idiot, she knew that, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave again. She had just wanted him to reassure her, to ease all her doubts and worries.

  Instead, he made her feel weaker than she’d already prove herself to be around him, and even more insecure. His words about teaching her how to make love, on top of his smug superiority about getting into her bed, were more than she could handle.

  There was no way she could ever compete with the women of his past, and she didn't want to. All she wanted was for him to tell her she was special and she wasn't just another conquest. Not to remind her she was like every other woman who hadn't refused him. She slid onto the counter, drawing her legs up as she buried her head in her hands and tears slid down her face.

  "Isabelle, come out of there," he ordered from the other side of the door.

  "No."

  Stefan forced himself to take a deep breath before he ripped the door off its hinges and dragged her out. He knew there was more behind her anger and distress than what he had said. The tears in her eyes proved that, but he couldn't think of what, and he wasn't in the mood to puzzle it out. He was done fighting with her, and he wasn't about to let her lead him around. It was beyond time she learned he was the one in charge. He grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. She quickly shoved it shut again.

  "Let me in that room, or I'm going to rip this door off its fucking hinges!" he bellowed, his patience fraying as he shoved the door back open.

  Isabelle scrambled forward to kick the door quickly shut again. The breath froze in her lungs as he grew eerily quiet on the other side. For a second she thought he would rip the door off, but when seconds ticked by with no sound, and no further attempt to enter, her shoulders slumped in relief, and her head bowed.

  The loud crashing shot her head up. A strangled cry escaped her as the door, and part of the wall was torn away and flung aside. Wrath radiated from every inch of his body as he stepped into the room and towered over her. Unable to move, her breath froze in her lungs as his eyes blazed a violent red at her.
Pure terror spurted through her veins, her heart jackhammered in her chest, and a thick lump constricted her throat. She would jump up and flee the room, but he blocked her only path to escape.

  "Get up!" he barked.

  Isabelle knew her legs wouldn't hold her. Instead, she shook her head numbly, unable to tear her gaze away from his thunderous expression. She didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes blazed even brighter. The wrath radiating from him beat at her in waves threatening to drown her within their terrifying depths. She started to recoil, but he grabbed her arms and lifted her.

  Isabelle didn't even attempt to fight; she worried he would kill her if she did, he certainly looked irate enough to do it. She was sure he would never harm her, but she wasn't about to take her chances in the face of his hostility. Instead, she hung limply, waiting to see what he would do as dread hummed through every inch of her body. However, even though he was trembling with wrath, his hands on her arms were not bruising.

  He threw her onto the bed and climbed on top of her. His knees were on either side of her hips, and his hands clasped her arms at her sides. She stared breathlessly up at him, trembling with dread, as he glowered at her. Power and strength radiated from him. She recalled how he ripped the door off its hinges, and tossed it aside as if it weighed no more than a feather. She didn't even want to think about what he could do to her if he wanted to.

  "Now, you are going to listen to me!" he spat. "I am not going anywhere. So, you better get that realization through your thick skull right now, Isabelle, or so help me I will ram it in there! Do you understand me?" When she didn't answer fast enough for his liking, his hands tightened upon her arms, and he shook her a little. "Do you understand me?"

  Her lower lip trembled as she managed a weak nod. "Yes," she whispered. He unclenched his rigid jaw. Finally, he was beginning to make some headway with her. "But you left before."

  His head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. He should have known better than to think she would concede so quickly. Just once, he wished she would make things easy for him, not constantly put him on the defensive.