JUMP (The Senses)

by Cindy Paterson

  He watched her magnificent body, her words like a mist running across his mind. Every impulse was to flip her onto her back and pump madly into her until his release, but the sane side refused to hurt this woman with his wild nature.

  She approached, legs on either side of his thighs, and then she placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back. Never had he had a woman undress him, and the sensation of her fingertips stroking his skin as she pulled his jeans from him was tormenting.

  She was precise and slow, taking care to remain gentle in order to keep him from exploding. She had tasted his fierce possessiveness before and knew how dangerous the emotion could be to her own pain.

  “Okay, how on earth did you manage to get thighs like these?” Danielle asked, running her hand over the muscles.

  His eyes flashed and the intensity dwindled at her odd remark.

  “I swear, no woman, no matter how much she works out, could ever get these thigh muscles.” She molded her hand around his right leg, then looked down at her own and scrunched her nose.

  “Don’t you dare,” Balen said and grabbed her hand, pulling her on top of him. Her knees and hands came on either side of him on the bed. He tweaked her nose. “You have perfect thighs, supple, warm and delicious.”

  “Delicious? Like an apple?” Danielle teased, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

  Balen laughed, his chest rumbling beneath her. She smacked him on the shoulder and he laughed harder.

  “I’ll have you know that my thighs are nothing like apples, they are like . . . well, like bananas.”

  He raised his brows with amusement.

  “Well, did you notice how my knees kind of bow out slightly?” Danielle said with all seriousness.

  “Hmm,” Balen mumbled. “And your arms are like what . . . green beans?”

  Danielle’s mouth dropped open from his teasing and then she started laughing too, her insides bubbling up with sheer pleasure. His hands raised and cupped her breasts in his palms. “And these lovely creations are glorious ripe honeydew melons.” He raised his head and took one nipple into his mouth and moaned. “Succulent and sweet. I could eat melons all day.”

  Danielle giggled and then hissed with pleasure as he nipped her and rubbed her other nipple between his thumb and finger. She gripped his head in her hands and threw her head back, closing her eyes. Goose bumps rose on her flesh, and her stomach swirled with anticipation, wetness clinging between her thighs.

  She thought she was taking control, but he was driving her crazy with his tongue, flames of torture grazing her skin. Heat coruscated, sweat building on her skin. His scent wafted in and out of her mind, driving her to moan with need.

  Balen heard her cry, felt her body succumb to the pleasure he drove it to. His own body was pulsating with undeniable ache, desperate to make this woman his own. He lifted his head and saw her open her eyes, eyes that were filled with ecstasy from what he was doing to her. He lifted the corners of his lips. “Lie down, little one.”

  She hesitated and he knew what he was asking was a lot, but he had to show her pleasure, and the only way he was certain she’d find it was if he had her lie down and let him explore every inch of her succulent body.

  He ran his finger down the side of her face, then rolled her over so she was beside him on her back, but instead of getting on top, he slid from the bed to kneel on the floor. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her forward so what he searched for was at eye level. He heard her gasp as he placed his hands on her thighs and opened them.

  “Don’t move,” Balen said in a gruff voice. “And don’t come until I say.”

  “What?” Danielle tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down and grinned.

  “Trust me. It will be the most sensational pleasure if you do as I say,” Balen said and then without another word his fingers delved between her thighs, seeking the wetness and finding it.

  Danielle arched her back and gave a gasp as his fingers penetrated her, and then the velvet of his tongue drifted across her sensitive nub with gentle warmth. Oh, God, she thought as his assault took control and her body arched. He kept her from moving with a hand on her stomach, pushing her back in place whenever she shot forward with pleasure singing across every inch of her body.

  “Please,” she begged, although she didn’t know whether it was for release or for him to be inside her.

  Circling. Slow. Gentle. Then he opened her thighs wider, and the heat of his breath sent spasms across her body. Her head rolled back and forth as his fingers delved deep inside her, wetness. His tongue danced circles across the most sensitive place and her body shot forward as she cried out.

  Balen halted abruptly and his head rose. “Not yet,” he growled.

  “Please, I can’t wait. You’re driving me nuts.”

  He reiterated forcefully, “Not yet.”

  Danielle took several deep breaths, her body ready to take flight and soar with just the slightest touch of his tongue, but he waited until she calmed and then drove his fingers up inside again. In and out with quick rhythm, gentle and then harder and harder. Her knees fell open wider and her entire body wanted to give way to the heightening emotions that were ready to explode.

  “No,” Balen said again, but this time, he kept his fingers in motion, never once taking his eyes from her, and her body thrummed under his hand. Harder, faster, again and again, and the sweet sensations were rising to a point of no return.

  Balen lowered his head, his fingers deep inside. He circled his tongue around her most sensitive nub and she thought she’d fly through the ceiling at the sensitivity.

  “Now,” Balen ordered.

  Her body spasmed like she’d never experienced or known existed before. Waves of pleasure jolted through her insides like an orchestra of the most incredible sensations.

  His fingers still inside, he felt her clench around him and pleasure soared through his own body at what she was feeling. Her head writhed back and forth, fists pounding the mattress as she exploded with intensity. For one moment, the pain in his heart eased, for he’d given Danielle pleasure and seen the joy in her eyes.

  “Balen?” Danielle whispered.

  “Hmmm.” He withdrew and came to his feet.

  “I want you inside me right now.” Danielle at up to grab his hand and pull him back to bed.

  He hesitated. Everything was so perfect, did he dare push for more, wish for more. His release wasn’t important; this was about her, what she had to get through to heal herself.

  She pulled on his hand. “Don’t ruin this for me, Balen. For us. Please, I want you inside me, let me feel you. All of you.”

  “I don’t know if I can . . . without hurting you,” Balen admitted. Never had he taken a woman gently. They all knew before he took them that he was rough and they loved it, but Danielle, his sweet, sweet Danielle. How could he ravage her body like that?

  “It’s better this way,” Balen said backing away. “Seeing your pleasure is enough.”

  “No,” Danielle said. “We finish what we start.” She opened the nightstand and pulled out a condom, then crawled off the bed. She gave him the package, grabbed the back of his head and jerked him towards her for a kiss.

  Balen was no saint, and her rough assault made his insides roar. He grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he sank himself inside her, wetness clinging to every inch, warmth cascading.

  “Oh, God,” Balen groaned at the tightness that enclosed him. His control was faltering. He could feel it shifting, and the savage needs soaring. He took several deep breaths and calmed his mind by thinking of fresh fruit. He grinned at the memory and the easy nature came back over him.

  Still inside her, he walked across the room. He placed her backside on the dresser and withdrew from the sweet wetness. She wiggled her body, so she was on the edge and then hooked her arms around his neck.

  “Better put that thing on real damn fast,” Danielle
said.

  When he looked into her eyes, his heart soared; she was smiling with a radiance that melted his insides. He was astounded, having expected fear maybe or hurt, but this . . . this was why he had come back and risked everything. To see this look in her eyes and feel it emanate through her body into his.

  He cupped her chin and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Radiant. You are the most radiant woman I’ve ever known.”

  She smiled. “Show me.”

  Balen needed no further urging as he pushed himself inside her, instantly feeling the muscles clutch around him. His loins ached to be released. She kissed him, hands delving into his hair as the urgency built. He moved harder, faster, unable to be gentle any longer. Possession was taking control as his arms gripped her body to him, fingers bruising her hips as they dug into her flesh. He furiously locked her to him, pumping like a crazed animal until he shouted her name and his release tore through his body, creating blazing flames of spasms.

  Sweat poured down his brow, clung to their naked skin, and their scents meshed together. He remained frozen, unable to speak for several seconds, waiting for their heartbeats to settle and minds to calm.

  He had his arm clasped around her waist, her face snuggled into his shoulder. He was afraid to pull away and see her eyes. Terrified that he had been too rough and he’d see tears. If he did, he was walking away without another word. He’d collect his clothes and leave her to find another man, a good man, not one who’d betrayed his own sister and warriors.

  “Holy crap,” Danielle said.

  She pulled back and stared at him, her eyes wide with . . . happiness? Could it be? Had he pleased her, even after he had been rough? Please let him do one thing right in his lifetime.

  “Are you okay?” Balen asked, his voice hesitant.

  “Am I okay? Of course. I’m shocked, that’s all. I understand what you were talking about when you said you lose control. That was losing control, wasn’t it?”

  “Partial,” he admitted. “But you weren’t frightened, I mean . . .”

  She stopped him by placing her fingers over his mouth. “I was fine. I think because I felt like I could get away if need be. It’s the lying on my back and a man hovering over me that freaks me out.”

  The relief that poured through him was so overwhelming that he had to swallow a few times to ease the tension in his throat. She liked him. She was okay with him being the way he was as long as she wasn’t lying down. He could do that, they could do that.

  He stiffened. What was he thinking? He was leaving, whether exiled or Rest, the result was the same.

  “What is it?” Danielle asked.

  Balen slipped out of her and helped her off the dresser and then went to the washroom to get rid of the condom. He came out and gathered his clothes. Pain swelled in his heart like a rotten apple ready to turn to mush if he stayed any longer. He had thoughts of a future with this woman lying in his arms, laughing together, crying together, tasting, sharing every part of life that came barreling at them.

  He closed his eyes.

  “Don’t leave,” Danielle said, coming up behind him and taking the jeans from his hands. “Stay.”

  “So I can torture myself further?” Balen said with a sneer. “Bloody hell, Danielle. This is it. I’m leaving and not coming back. I can’t protect you and I sure as hell can’t be with you like this ever again.” He sighed and his voice lowered to barely a whisper. “I’ve never felt so bloody vulnerable to anyone in my life.”

  Danielle trailed her hands down his chest. “We have one night for the rest of our lives. One night. Stay. I swear I won’t ask you about why you’re leaving or where or anything else like that. Can’t believe I just said that, but . . . crap, Balen, there is this something between us that . . . well, I can’t explain it really . . . Seriously, can’t you just stay?”

  He groaned, knowing that he would say yes. How could he deny her anything? Her eyes looking into his like she cared for him with everything she had. Never had he had that. Never had he felt that and he wanted the feeling if only for one night.

  He led her to the bed, threw back the covers and she crawled beneath them. He came beside her and she rested her head on his chest, her leg on top of his thigh. He caressed her hair with soft, familiar strokes, memorizing every strand that clung to his fingers.

  He sought her mind and knew she was dying to ask him millions of questions about himself. Questions he couldn’t answer without revealing the Senses to her. He ran his finger down her arm. “Your tattoo, what is it?” he asked.

  Danielle smiled and tilted her head, so she could look at him. “You saw it? I didn’t think you had the chance.”

  “I took every chance to look at your backside. However, I only managed a glimpse,” Balen said with mischief.

  “I was a bit of a rebel when I was growing up. My mother died when I was ten and my father looked past his daughter’s radical ways. Crying for freedom of expression, I dragged Anstice with me on my eighteenth birthday and got a tattoo. Anstice copped out at the last second, but she held my hand while it was being scoured into my skin. It means nothing, really, just something I designed. I’m an artist, remember. My tattoo was my first real work of art. Can’t sell it though.” She snuck her hand underneath him and pinched his buttocks. “We can get dressed and go get a matching one put on you. A reminder of tonight.”

  Balen groaned and then chuckled. Her finger slid over his tattoo around his left biceps. An intricate design that incorporated the sun, moon and eyes, lines that weaved and blended, making nothing appear as it was. His tattoo on the back of his right shoulder was a scaled dragon breathing fire, but the body was transforming into a fish that was immersed in water. The one on his lower back he’d had all his life. It appeared simple, a tiger sitting on its haunches as if waiting for something. Well, the tiger would have to wait a mighty long time because Balen had no intentions to letting the Scar lose. His tiger was unmanageable, deadly and would destroy any its path. When he released the tiger, it devoured without consequence. Lucky for him, Talu—that was what he called the Scar—was content to remain concealed until he called upon him. Unlike Damien’s Scar, which sought to rise every time he flew into a rage.

  “I like this one,” Danielle said as she lowered her head and kissed his biceps, then swept her tongue across the heated surface of his skin. “Do any of your tattoos mean anything?”

  “No,” Balen quickly replied. “Get some sleep, Danielle.”

  “Are you certain you don’t want to tell me where you so urgently have to go tomorrow? I can keep a secret, you know. Actually, Anstice and I have this thing—pinkie swears. We link baby fingers together and that means we will never tell a single soul.”

  Balen tensed at the mention of his sister. Danielle had no idea who he was—more important, what he was. Putting Anstice in the mix was a whole other can of worms. Open it up and Danielle was going to be feeling pretty damn pissed at all of them. Obviously, Anstice didn’t use the pinkie swear thing when it came to revealing the Senses to her best friend. If she had, Danielle would know exactly who he was, and Anstice would be in deep shit for breaking one of their draconian laws.

  He took her hand that rested on his chest and interlocked their fingers. “Even though this linking baby fingers sounds pretty damn erotic, it’s better you don’t know.”

  “But . . .”

  Balen groaned.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. But will you come back?”

  He heard her say for me, but she didn’t say it out loud, her pride wouldn’t allow it. “No. I’m not coming back. Ever.”

  She remained quiet for several minutes, their heartbeats matching in a slow, easy rhythm. “Balen?” she asked in a soft whisper, just audible.

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you for this,” she said.

  A tightness in his chest erupted at her words, stealing his breath. No one had ever told him thank you in his entire life. Not once. It was like music to his ears, es
pecially from this woman, this remarkable woman who’d given everything of herself to him tonight. God, he didn’t deserve her even for one night. She needed a man who was faithful and kind, soft with a heart of gold. He was not that guy. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t even normal.

  He felt her body relax and then she sighed as she drifted off to sleep.

  He remained awake, wanting to remember every second he held her in his arms, cement the memory to his mind for all time. Near sunrise, he gave Danielle a kiss on her temple and slowly got out of bed. He put on his clothes and then pulled the covers up over Danielle’s sleeping form.

  “Be well, little one.”

  The time had come to end this.

  Chapter 5

  Waleron wore a classic black wool overcoat that concealed the array of weapons holstered to his waist and legs. His combat boots were soundless as he walked with long casual strides across the solid stone floor. The exquisite council room had no effect on him as he strode towards the oblong marble table. Pale blue candles shimmered from two oversized iron chandeliers that hovered over the council table. Columns of white silk curtains hung every five feet along the wall frescos. He didn’t bother removing his coat as feeling temperature in the realm was nonexistent. One was neither hot nor cold, something he valued about this place.

  The four Elemental Wraiths remained in their realm of what he considered a fantasy land because what you saw was not always what it was. The Wraiths were creative when it came to their home. When entering the realm it took time to adjust to the invariable blue haze that settled over your vision. Blue being a color of peace and calm, it was a favorite of the Wraiths, except perhaps of Edan, Wraith of Fire, who was said to have a territory in the realm of crimson.

  Genevieve walked across the room in long, graceful strides. She was the Elemental Wraith of Water, and a powerful Healer for those of her kind. However, she rarely used her gift, since the Wraiths were seldom harmed. She had a fascination with the emotion of love, although she’d never been known to be linked to any man, or woman. She was a bystander, allowing others to be spellbound by what he considered an illusion of love. Genevieve failed to see it that way, but he certainly did.