Visions of Heat p-2

by Nalini Singh

  Eyes wide, she nodded. "Vaughn?"

  "Yeah?"

  "If I can't finish this, will it hurt you?"

  "Hell, yeah. But my balls turning blue won't kill me. So don't worry about it. When you can't handle it, get up and get the hell out. If I look like I've gone cat, lock the door behind you and take the car. Hyperspeed." He showed her the keys. "Car's in the left cavern as you enter. Do you remember the way out? You have to follow it without deviation or you'll set off the defenses."

  Oddly, there was no fear in her scent. "My memory's highly trained. Don't worry about me being caught in a trap."

  He had a sudden thought. "Did you see this in a vision?"

  "N-no!" Her Psy facade cracked. "I've never seen anything this pleasurable." Night-sky eyes went to his hands as he pulled off his jeans and threw them aside. Her intense focus made his already painful erection pound in echo with his heartbeat.

  "How do you know it'll be pleasurable?" He got on the bed and lay down.

  Breath a whisper, she came closer and tied one wrist to the headboard. The cat growled but didn't try to make him wrench free.

  "Because just looking at you gives me the most extreme pleasure I've ever felt."

  "Christ, baby, tie me up before you start talking like that." He wasn't joking. He knew his beast, knew its limits, knew its demands.

  She went to the other side of the bed to tie up his free hand before coming to his feet. The jaguar didn't think this was okay anymore—claws pricked at his inner skin and a roar pushed at his throat. Forcing the beast to back down, he spread his legs to help her. But he knew there would come a point when he'd lose the battle with the cat. "The doors are closed," he told her, voice very low. "If you have to run, don't give me any warning and don't stop to get dressed. Just go!"

  Faith stood at the end of the bed and met his eyes. "Why do I trust you more than you trust yourself?"

  "You don't know the beast. Do what I tell you."

  "Vaughn, I can fight back."

  "Yeah, but can you kill? Because as far as I know, that's the only way you have to incapacitate me."

  "You won't hurt me. But"—she held up her hand when he would've spoken—"I promise I'll do everything you've asked if you go cat on me. Promise."

  He nodded, satisfied that she'd keep her word. Then he watched her as a cat watches prey. Except this time, he couldn't pounce. He wondered what she'd do, whether she'd torment him. The thought wasn't unpleasant—a little tormenting in bed could be very interesting. The one thing he didn't allow himself to think was that she'd complete the act and accept him into her body.

  She crawled onto the bed to sit on her knees beside him. "May I touch you?" Such a polite question, but there was an inferno in her eyes. A Psy not sure she could fully break conditioning. And yet gutsy enough to try. Was it any wonder she was his mate?

  "Anywhere." He wished he could kiss her. Unable to gratify the wish, he indulged himself with thoughts of how the softness of her lips would feel against his. The tart sweetness of her mouth was a remembered sensation that tightened his already impossibly taut body.

  Lightning-shot eyes met his. "I like your kiss, too."

  He loved being able to arouse her with his most erotic thoughts. "Then come here."

  "Vaughn, should I drop out of the Net before— What if my shields collapse?"

  "You can drop out the second your shields fail. I'll catch you." He'd already caught her, but she wasn't ready to accept the depth of their connection.

  "Then I'll wait until it becomes unavoidable," she whispered, "I have things to do."

  He smiled, using sex to banish the taint of sadness. "Yes, you do. Kiss me."

  "I think that's an excellent idea." She braced her hands palms down beside his head and placed her mouth over his. It was an utterly feminine kiss, gentle and exploratory, not ravaging but coaxing. To his shock, Vaughn found he enjoyed being coaxed. The cat settled, too, pleased. It liked being petted and this was the most intimate kind of petting.

  When her tongue whispered across his lips, he opened his mouth and allowed her to taste him as he tasted her. He could feel her knee against his side, but she remained out of reach, her breasts not pressing against his chest where he wanted them. He imagined her kissing him naked, her body pasted along his, a sizzlingly intimate meeting of mouths that might short-circuit all of her nerves.

  Gasping into the kiss, she broke it. Her eyes were filled with white lightning, her lips moist from his kiss, her skin flushed with a soft glow that signaled arousal. He took pleasure in the markers though he didn't need them—the scent of her acted like a drug to his senses. Breathing deep, he fed the hunger, stoked the fire, and waited.

  CHAPTER 21

  Faith's whole body felt tight, as if her skin had been stretched too thin and was close to bursting. She wanted to rub herself up against the beauty of the male in front of her. He was a stunningly sensual creature, an invitation to every one of her starved senses. Her conditioning warned that too much sensation after a lifetime of numbness could cause the most brutal kind of mental cascade, but she wasn't listening.

  Licking her tongue over her lips, she put one hand flat on his chest. A shudder shook his powerful frame. Startled, she looked up to find his eyes closed. He was making no effort to hide his pleasure in her caresses and his unflinching surrender gave her the confidence she'd lacked to this point.

  Removing her hand, she ignored the low growl that came from his throat and put her hands to the bottom of her T-shirt. The growl cut off. His intense focus was a physical touch as she lifted the soft material over her head and threw it to the floor. Her bra might've been practical white cotton, but the look in Vaughn's eyes made her feel as if she were encased in something designed to bring a male the most exquisite pleasure.

  He jerked at the bindings without warning. "I want a taste. Come here."

  Wondering at his meaning, she leaned over, her lips brushing his as they spoke. It was deliberate on her part— she liked kisses with Vaughn. "What do you want to taste?"

  He caught her lower lip between his teeth in a playful bite and she shivered. "Your pretty breasts."

  "I'm still wearing my bra."

  "Take it off." It was a demand.

  Faith's reaction to his attempt to exert dominance in bed surprised her. There was no fear and more than a frisson of sexual pleasure, a dramatic contrast to her negative response to his attempts to dominate her in other situations.

  It was an interesting dichotomy and if she'd been thinking with the cerebral discipline of her race, she might've explored it further. But the fact was, she was thinking with her body. And she was coping. More than coping. She was enjoying. Much more of her conditioning had failed than she'd initially estimated. She didn't care.

  Sitting back up, she reached behind her to unhook the bra and slide it down her arms and off her fingertips. Knowing that Vaughn couldn't touch her, couldn't push her, gave her courage, but it also increased the heat. There was something highly erotic about what they were doing and Faith knew it had to do with trust and intimate secrets. Vaughn would never let anyone else tie him down as she'd done.

  He growled again and this time she could hear the difference. The deep rumble wasn't a threat but a demand. Flicking aside the discarded bra, she straddled him, blindingly aware of the pulsing length of his erection. If she slid back a bare few inches, she'd be able to rub over him with the hot, swollen flesh between her legs.

  Mercy.

  The temptation was intense but she remained rational enough to know she couldn't overload her senses that quickly. She hadn't reached her limit. It was simply a question of speed.

  Letting her hair cascade around them, she leaned down, but kept her breasts out of reach of his mouth. She had no idea why she was teasing him like this, hadn't even known she had the ability to tease, yet she was certain it was bringing him pleasure. Her jaguar might demand, but not having his demands fulfilled at once didn't anger him. It only heightened the sensati
ons.

  Not really caring how she knew that, she used her finger to trace his mouth and when he threatened to bite, she acquiesced to him, taking that wandering finger into his mouth. He sucked so hard she thought she could feel it in her womb.

  The sensation was rich, heady, and had an unexpected effect. "My breasts hurt." Such a private complaint.

  He allowed her to withdraw her finger. "Come here."

  More than willing to oblige him this time, she watched as his mouth closed over her nipple. Her mind blanked at the instant of contact and then restarted in a shock wave of desire. She clawed the sheets beside his shoulders but didn't move away. Because she was desperate for more, her addiction to Vaughn was growing with alarming speed.

  A scream locked in her throat as he switched his attention to her neglected nipple. When he tugged with careful teeth, she bent even closer, her hair a dark red curtain that focused the intimacy to an excruciating pitch. Silver shot through her mind. Sanity broke piece by piece. She didn't care.

  Shifting focus, Vaughn let go of her nipple to scrape his teeth along the vulnerable underside of her breast. Her heart seemed to stop beating.

  Giving an incoherent cry, she jerked down his body in a ragged movement. She might've kept going had Vaughn's roar not split the soft darkness into two. Her entire body froze. That was when she realized her jean-clad form was rubbing over the head of his erection. Vaughn jerked at the restraints, the veins on his arms and shoulders pumped with blood. And she became conscious of the fact that he could break the bindings with his strength alone.

  But there was no danger, not yet. Heart still not back in the right rhythm, she slid farther down, freeing the hot, hard length of his arousal. He didn't care for that. "Get back." It was a snapped command in a voice coated with the thick animal sexuality of the changeling he was.

  Shaking her head, she used her hand to claim him as she'd done at the cottage. His body bucked upward, powerful muscle and gleaming flesh.

  "You're so hot," she whispered, breath coming in pants, "so silky." She loved touching him.

  He growled and it was very close to the edge. "Enough."

  "No." She wasn't going to let go until she was finished— if the conditioned pain crippled her, this chance might never come again. And there were lots of things she wanted to do to this magnificent male at her mercy.

  "It'll feel better if you take off the jeans."

  She blinked, surprised to see that she'd changed position so she could grind the ache between her legs against one muscular thigh. Her hand tightened on him.

  His breath hissed out. "Off," he ordered. "Take those damn jeans off!"

  "But to do that I'd have to stop," she muttered.

  Vaughn's eyes went even more cat, if that was possible. "Imagine how good it'll feel."

  Explicit images crashed into her mind, scenes of her naked and wild above him as she ground her moist heat in slow circles against his thigh. The images were so rich in detail, so sexual, she could almost smell the scent of her need. Then she realized that the musky scent was real. It was her. And it appeared to be driving Vaughn over the edge.

  His nostrils flared. "Those jeans are coming off right now if I have to tear them off." Claws sliced through his skin but he didn't try to break the bindings.

  Something still sane in her said that this was dangerous, that too much skin-to-skin contact could trigger a catastrophic mental backlash, but she was in no mood to listen. If she'd stopped thinking, then so had Vaughn, neither cognizant of the one huge risk they'd forgotten to speak about.

  "Do it!”

  Releasing the silky hot flesh in her grasp, she rose to stand above him and shimmied out of her jeans and panties. She caught Vaughn's expression as she threw the clothing aside—he was pure starving male, a very hungry jaguar. His eyes lingered over her breasts before dropping to the curls at the apex of her thighs. And she knew.

  He wanted to devour her.

  But she was in charge of this intimate game and she wanted him first. Going back down onto her knees, she fisted her hand around him again. His whole body became solid muscle as he waited to see what she'd do. She wasn't sure herself. So much contact, so much sensation, so much need had smashed into her mind that she was no longer sure of anything.

  "But you're mine to play with." It was a stubborn, possessive declaration.

  The thick heat of him pulsed in her hand as a roar erupted from his throat. She was fascinated by his untamed fury, overwhelmed by the answering wildness in her, wild-ness that had been contained for a lifetime and now wanted to tear loose.

  She ran her nails down his chest. Hard.

  His hands jerked at the bindings and the eyes that looked back at her were on the wrong side of feral. "More."

  Awash in uncensored images of what he wanted, she dipped her head to his neck and bit the skin above his pulse. This time she was gentle, teasing, taking, tasting. His body pushed up and hers pressed down. Shocking heat, raw pleasure. Whimpering, she rubbed her damp need against him to the point where both of them were so out of control, thought was something they'd done in another lifetime.

  Neither of them spoke as she sat up and used her hand to guide him inside her. He was thick. She should've gone slow, but she'd moved way beyond doing what she should. The biting pain of a sudden sharp tear inside her didn't snap her out of the passion-darkness. It was far too late for that. She'd been conquered by the most primal core of her self.

  Mind cascading around her, she began to ride him. He bucked and slammed into her despite his bonds as she slid downward over the near painful thickness of him. Screaming, she did it again. And again. And again.

  Until lightning was all she was and her mind ceased to exist.

  Faith was surrounded by fire. Rough, yet deliriously smooth, the contrasting textures enticed her to open her eyes. Gleaming skin lay under her cheek and her fingers were stroking through dark-gold chest hair as if petting a great big cat. The last word opened the floodbanks of memory and she woke fully with a gasp.

  "Shh." One of Vaughn's hands stroked down her spine while the other pushed damp hair off her forehead.

  "You're free." The bindings were shreds on the headboard.

  "Hmm." He moved so she was half under him and he could kiss the line of her neck.

  "I survived." She was remembering that explosion in her mind, when everything she was and everything she'd ever been had seemed to be wiped out.

  His teeth scraped her skin and she shivered. Lightning danced along her bloodstream, nerve endings already sensitized to the extreme.

  "You taste good, Red."

  Her body was loose, her limbs heavy and sated. "Vaughn. I felt too much." Yet she was still here, still functioning. She checked her shields. To her shock, the ones against the PsyNet were holding strong, as if anchored by a source outside of her overloaded mind. Impossible.

  All her other shields were gone.

  She clenched her fingers, only then realizing she'd sunk them into Vaughn's hair. "My shields."

  "Mmm." He was licking at her pulse, quick flicks that tugged at something low in her, something rich and dark and hungry. So hungry.

  "The ones that help me hold out the world, they're gone." Burned out.

  "Rebuild them. Later." Moving down her body, he ran his teeth over the upper slopes of her breasts.

  Swallowing, she tried to think. She was safe against other Psy. There was no one out here but Vaughn. And he'd already been everywhere inside of her, gone so deep that she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to push him out, or that she'd even want to. One large hand stroked down her side and lingered in the hollow where waist flared into hip.

  She found herself holding her breath in anticipation, her mind emptying of thoughts of shields and protection. She was a novice at emotion caught in the claws of the most powerful of them—so much so that she failed to check the vision channels for damage.

  Vaughn nuzzled between her breasts and made his way down her tensed stomach, dropping
kisses on every inch of exposed skin until he reached the curls at the apex of her thighs. One hand closing over her thigh, he dropped a kiss on those curls. Her back arched. "Not yet."

  He finally looked up. Those cat eyes were sated, golden and pleasured. "Why?" It wasn't a demand, but as close to a purr as she'd ever heard a human being sound.

  "I need to calm down a little." She tugged at his hair and to her surprise, he came without argument, kissing his way back up her body. A body that had been well used and was already aching for more. It was her mind that wasn't ready.

  When he was braced over her once more, she ran her hand down his jaw and found herself unable to stop nuzzling at his throat, dropping kisses on his pulse. "Why can't I stop touching you? I might've broken conditioning, but I'm still Psy." Still from a race where touch was infrequent and cold. "I shouldn't be so needy for touch."

  "You're hungry." He ran one hand up to close over her breast in a gesture that screamed possessiveness. "You've been starving for decades."

  "But..." She licked salt from the skin of his shoulder and curved a leg over his waist.

  "The shield holding you back burned out."

  How did he know that? Not that it mattered to her. "Does that mean I'm mad?" Right this moment, she didn't care.

  "No. It means you're free."

  "Mmm." Pulling herself up using his shoulders, she drew his head down in a kiss that was so luscious, she melted. He was all slow heat and seduction against her mouth while his hand gently massaged her breast.

  When his thumb rubbed over her nipple, she moaned into the kiss, but this time it wasn't lightning that flickered through her bloodstream but a thicker, richer vein of fire. It spread with languorous ease and she was filled with it before she could even think to fight. Pleasurably overwhelmed, she wrapped her arms around him and curved her other leg over his back.

  When he slipped inside of her again, it felt like perfection. He moved in a slow, sensual rhythm, a sated predator giving his woman everything she wanted. The hand on her breast slid down her body to cup her buttocks and hold her at the tiniest angle, but one that let him touch things in her that turned the slow-moving river of lava into a boiling inferno. But still it didn't overwhelm.