“I could show you it’s not wrong.” The words slipped out in a whisper. Having her standing so close to him made him forget himself for a moment. The perils that dogged his journey through the universe fell away, unable to penetrate the lingering connection between her mind and his. Heath slid his hungry hands down her body, reveling in the sumptuous curves. The indent of her waist, the slight rise of her belly, the flare of her hips excited him endlessly. He pushed her pants down over her thighs, taking her black panties along for the ride. Just as he’d imagined, her thighs were a little heavier than most women her height would probably have liked. Her ass was round and well formed and her hips womanly.
She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of the puddle of her clothes. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“I’ll take care of you first. You’ll be fine.” He lifted one of her hands and led her back to his chair. “Lie down.” He wanted to add that she should spread her legs, but he would do that for her so she didn’t have to expend any effort. He’d show her how easy it would all be to just lie there and let him work on her.
“Serpents?” she asked once she’d reclined. Heath’s hand shook a bit as he reached down to adjust the height of the chair. She looked magnificent stretched there, eager and vulnerable. He’d cut through the layer of bravado she’d had to weave around herself in order to survive in a world that had no problem using her abilities and ridiculing them at the same time. What remained was something pure that required special care. Something he could no longer resist.
“I favor them and the Gemii fear them most.”
She shivered. Gooseflesh swept down her body and Heath followed its path. Her navel, a tight slit, seemed to contract even further. The dark hair of her pussy stood on end and the muscles in her calves rose to definition. His cock surged. In time, he would have his release, but he had to reach that peak slowly.
“Close your eyes and breathe.”
She obeyed him, but her body remained taut. He placed a splayed hand on her stomach and everything tensed. “Rihana. If you come when you’re like this, you’ll shatter. You have to breathe or all you’ll feel is pain.”
She nodded, but rather than let go of the tension, she screwed her eyes up tight and bit her lower lip. That was it. Orgasm was pain for her. She’d never experienced it without the terror of believing she was sinning. He wasn’t sure a few hours in his chair, under his hands, could cure that for her. It might take years to teach her to enjoy her sexuality and separate her most intense sexual feelings from the belief that they were caused by evil spirits.
Her mind understood, but her body had to be retrained.
He sighed and began to stroke her skin. He brushed the backs of his hands over her nipples and watched them peak. He wanted to put his mouth on one tight bud and suckle, but it was too soon for that. To taste her now would be too intimate. He took a chance even touching her, but he couldn’t stop himself now. This bit of self-indulgence would be all he could experience with her, and he wanted it.
He moved his hands down her body, allowing the muscles in her belly to ripple in the wake of his touch. Her hips rose slightly when he reached her thighs, and she dug her heels into the cushions of the chair. He’d never seen a woman so tense in his life. “You have to breathe, slowly in and out. That’s what a good fuck is all about. You feel it going in and you feel it coming out, just like breathing.”
She opened her eyes. “So you’re going to fuck me?”
He would have given anything to be able to say yes. “No. I shouldn’t even be doing this, but…”
She pursed her lips and seemed disappointed. She had no idea how this was killing him. He should have climbed on top of her and given her everything he had, but that certainly would not have left her relaxed.
“If I don’t do anything to help find Tanesha’s killer, that will be worse for…” Her comment ended in a sharp intake of breath. Heath had put a hand on her inner thigh. The contact jolted them both and her back went rigid. She knew what was coming and she bit her lip in anticipation.
“You talk too much, Rihana. Breathe more, talk less.” He put a modicum of pressure on her left leg, just enough to make her spread her knees and reveal her plump pussy to him. Her stiff pink clit rose to meet his incursion when he spread her lower lips. She moaned and gripped the arms of the chair, digging her nails into the upholstery.
“Maybe this will help you settle down.” He pressed his thumb to her pleasure center while simultaneously massaging her mound with his fingers.
“I don’t…I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Just let your body move with me. You fight the sensation and you don’t have to. It’s all right to like it.”
“Don’t…stop.”
“You mean, don’t stop. Am I right?” He pressed harder, feeling the nub of hyper-sensitive flesh slide beneath the pad of his thumb. The scent of her arousal enveloped him, sending his own desire raging. Everything about her turned him on. The contrast of her skin next to his reminded him of coffee and cream. The silky curve of her inner thighs next to the wiry hair of her mound fascinated him. Her rounded hips beckoned him and her taut, flat stomach challenged him. She held her muscles there so tight he could probably have bounced a quarter off her abs.
Except for the fingers of the hand, which wrapped around her shoulder, she bore no other markings on the front of her body. She was a clean canvas and that excited him too. While he circled her clit, drawing her own slick moisture out over her pussy lips, he surveyed the landscape on which he planned to work. He imagined a single serpent nestled on her hip, drawn to protect both her heart and her womb. He’d use a rich sienna and highlight the shimmering scales with blues and greens for contrast.
God, he needed to come. He worked faster, pressed harder. He’d have slipped a finger inside her, but again, that was too intimate an act to share with someone he never planned to see again.
“Ah…ah.” She arched her back and pushed her hips forward, and Heath knew she’d almost reached her peak. While he concentrated on finishing her off with one hand he brushed his other over her stomach, her breasts. She felt like granite. Every bit of her was rock-hard. If her muscles contracted even more in orgasm she would be in agony.
“Rihana, breathe! Let yourself come.”
“I can’t…I can’t.” She shuddered and cried out, finally letting go. Her whole body shook, and she clamped her thighs tight while her body rocked in the chair. The keen she let out was pure pain, mixed with a dark, dense pleasure that left her panting and shivering.
He’d never seen anything like it. He’d never felt anything like it either. The ache of it attacked him through whatever psychic connection they shared and he let out a low groan. He wanted to fold over and guard his balls. His abdominal muscles hurt not just from working at holding back his own climax, but because of the agony she’d just been through.
“My God. I thought you’d feel better after that.”
“I do. I’m fine.” Her lower lip quivered and she bit it again. Pain seemed to be her panacea, both the cause and effect of her climax. He wondered what would happen to her once he began to draw on her. Hundreds of needle pricks per second might leave her in sensory overload.
“Rihana, I’m not sure I can do this for you. It might be too painful if you’re unable to relax.”
She took a deep breath, dug her nails into the armrests again and closed her eyes. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I want it.”
Heath surveyed his work station. He needed a warm cloth and some extra pigment from the supplies in back. In his mind, he’d already scaled down the design he’d planned for her in order to minimize her discomfort. A small guardian would be better than none at all. “Rest for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded convulsively, her eyes still clamped shut. She wasn’t ready for this, but how could he stop now? He wanted nothing more than to have his hands on her skin, her body flexing and contracting beneath him, but he’d already gone too far. He plann
ed only to convince her to accept a temporary guardian. Instead he’d put her further at risk. He had to make up for that lapse in judgment, for indulging the urgency brought on by their unplanned psychic connection.
He backed out of the alcove and pulled the curtain shut in front of him to afford her more privacy. A mental inventory told him he might find some organic incense in the back room as well. Maybe the scent of chamomile would help her relax. This girl needed help and he regretted that he didn’t have the time it would take to undo the damage of her past. She was clearly worth the time and effort when all he had to do was look at her to get hard.
He gathered his supplies quickly and headed back to the alcove, thinking he could position the full-length mirror so she could watch him from any angle while he worked.
The chair was empty when he returned. He didn’t bother calling for her or checking the rest room. Silent as smoke, she’d taken her clothes and disappeared. He hadn’t even heard the back door close.
He could have run after her, but it wouldn’t have done any good. He didn’t have time to track her down and clearly she preferred to be on her own. He had to let her go and wish her the best. He could only hope to find someone on the next world who would have the same effect on him as Rihana Daniels had.
Chapter Four
After ten minutes of struggling, Rihana finally managed to thrust her key into the lock on the front door of her apartment and stumble inside. She threw her keychain at the nearby table and slammed the door behind her, pressing the deadbolt closed with trembling fingers.
What on earth had possessed her to follow a suspect? To interact with him outside of the controlled environment of the police station?
She began to peel off her jacket as she headed for the bathroom then thought better of it. As much as she craved a long, steaming shower, she couldn’t bring herself to take her clothes off again. Good Lord. Blindly, she headed for the kitchen, icy hands clamped to her burning cheeks in a vain attempt to quell the fire of shame that still burned under her skin.
It had felt like a trance. Every second, from the instant Heath Gyland opened his back door and pulled her into his shop, to the moment she’d come to her senses and yanked her discarded clothes back on, had felt like a dream. No, a nightmare.
She’d been completely out of control, like a drug addict, sleepwalking through some erotic hallucination. Their eyes had met and immediately she’d begun to ache deep in her womb. His voice, his eyes, every nuance of the way he spoke and moved had churned up half-remembered emotions from deep in her soul. It had been years since she’d allowed herself to feel desire for a man. She didn’t have time for that kind of complication in her life. Tonight all that denial had come to head and she’d transformed into a sex-starved whore for a man she barely knew.
She scraped a kitchen chair across the old linoleum and threw herself into it, rested her elbows on the table and cradled her throbbing head in her hands. God, the way he’d touched her. He knew exactly what she craved in the secret recesses of her mind. His skillful hands had played her like harp strings and she’d come against his hand, hard, writhing, moaning.
She would never be able to look him in the eye again. Not him, not any man. Gramma Essie had been right. Her gift set her apart and she needed to keep a handle on her emotions so she didn’t lose control. The thin veil that separated her waking mind from the other side could be swept away so easily and leave her unprotected. Tonight had been a perfect example of how vulnerable she was to the intrusive thoughts of others. His lust had overtaken her and left her without inhibitions, unable to think of anything but getting him to touch her.
Tea. She forced a deep breath into her lungs and thought of tea. That would soothe her nerves. She’d put off a bath until morning. She didn’t want to be naked again for a while. Rising, she put her hand to her throat and realized she’d forgotten her scarf. Damn. Hopefully Heath—the suspect—wouldn’t try to return it. He’d said he would be leaving town. As much as that would interfere with the murder investigation, she hoped it was true. If he was gone she wouldn’t have to worry about a chance encounter that might leave her on her knees begging to be fucked.
The clatter of the ceramic kettle on the stove burner made her wince. She felt like an exposed wound or a toothache. The flare of the gas jet and the hiss of the cold water from the tap teased her nerve endings. Her whole body throbbed and a sinful sensation emanated from the spot where Heath Gyland had touched her.
“Breathe.” She echoed his command to her. “Take it easy. You did what you set out to do.”
He wasn’t the killer. She’d learned that much before she’d passed out at his feet. She’d seen far enough into his mind to know Tanesha hadn’t met her end at his hands.
She paced while the kettle heated. The teacup she retrieved from the cupboard tipped out of her hand and crashed against the edge of the counter. It exploded into half a dozen pieces and rained across the floor.
She cursed.
“Slow. Go slow.” Her pussy dampened when her mind supplied a quick, visceral image of Heath spreading her legs and petting her pubic hair. A fist clenched in her gut. She’d been this way before—after the tattoo sessions in the bayou she’d been so anxious for more she couldn’t walk across a room without tripping over her own feet.
She swept up the remains of the broken cup and swiped down another. This one she set on the table with two hands, like a child entrusted with her first breakable object. The kettle whistled. She let it scream for attention while she chose a tea bag and laid it in the cup.
The act of pouring the boiling water actually went a long way toward easing her anxiety. Carelessness with that task would leave her burned, and she couldn’t afford to add that type of pain to her nervous system right now. She’d have a stroke.
With exaggerated movements, she placed the kettle back on the stove and sat down in front of her steaming cup. Gramma Essie would have insisted she open the tea bag and read the leaves, but Rihana already knew what they would tell her. Stay the hell away from Heath Gyland. She would never get into his mind far enough to tease out any useful information about the mysterious, otherworldly assassin he spoke of, so she needed to let it go, let him go no matter what his presence did to her insides.
The first sip of tea worked its magic. In a few minutes she’d managed to control her breathing, and her racing heart calmed to a manageable level. As long as no one found out about what she’d done this evening, she would be all right.
* * * * *
After another unsuccessful conversation with Darq, Heath hung up the phone and paced the length of his bedroom. Throughout all the years he and his crèche-brother had traveled together, Darq had always deferred to Heath’s opinions. He supposed he’d gotten used to being the nominal leader back when being only three years older than his companion represented a large gap in their levels of maturity. Having Darq defy his advice and insist on remaining here with his mate left him out of balance.
He was certainly free to move on alone, but how could he justify leaving the only other surviving member of the Verakos royal family vulnerable to a Gemii assassin?
Secure that his guardians would protect him from an attack in his own home, Heath began to strip and walked into the shower in his adjoining bathroom. His mind whirled with possibilities of how to convince Darq to accompany him to the next world. His partner was stubborn and insistent and wouldn’t change his mind easily. The wisest course of action would be to appeal to the woman he’d chosen as his mate. Makena was human and this world was her home, but surely she would be willing to give it up to protect the man she loved.
Hot water sluiced over his back, instantly releasing the tension that had built up in the muscles of his shoulders. He’d been wound tight as a spring since the moment he’d found Rihana lurking outside SkIntense. Just talking to her had aroused him. Watching her lips move and matching the tone of her sultry voice to the constantly changing expression in her cool green eyes had felt like forepl
ay. Thinking of her now stirred his desires, and his cock sprang to attention.
Unlike Rihana, release would calm his nerves and allow him to think clearly about his next course of action. He needed to get her out of his mind and the only way to do that was to get his need for her out of his body.
He ran wet hands over his hair, slicking back the blond strands, and let the spray of water blind him for a minute. In the brown darkness behind his eyelids, he conjured an image of her luscious body and replayed the intoxicating scenes of her stripping.
He’d only watched her remove her clothes then, but now, in his mind’s eye, he participated. He stood behind her, close enough that the curves of her magnificent ass bumped his growing erection. He imagined reaching around in front of her and slipping his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Inch by sinful inch he’d raise the material over her abdomen, just grazing the underside of her bra with his fingertips. She’d raise her arms and allow him to pull the garment off then nestle against him, rubbing her bottom suggestively over his crotch.
He’d kiss her shoulder, following the carefully drawn lines of her body art. Then he’d flick the straps of her bra down off her shoulders and let them dangle against her arms. She’d sway a bit, teasing his cock, and he’d smile while he scraped his teeth over her skin.
God, he’d wanted to taste her. She’d be chocolate sweet and coffee sharp. Nipping at her shoulder would make her gasp and throw her head back to expose her throat.
Next he’d run his hands around her waist and up to the cups of her bra. He’d grasp the satin and pull it down so it rode at her hips. Then he’d go back and take the weight of her breasts in his hands. The thought of her hardened nipples in his palms tightened his balls. He bent forward a little, letting the water cascade over the back of his neck while he massaged his erection. It wouldn’t take much to finish. A few strokes of his soapy hand would have him spurting cum all over the shower wall, but he wanted to draw this out. He’d never have a chance to make love to Rihana Daniels in real life, so he wanted his fantasy to be complete.
Slither Page 5
