Týr let her go and lowered to the couch to stretch out. It was a risk he took, leaving this up to her, but he wanted a chance at a life with this difficult and unpredictable female. More than anything, he wanted her yes.
“Lie beside me.”
Chapter 11
Kira’s breath stuttered in her chest, so sure someone had drained out all of the air in the cabin. Lie beside him?
Týr sprawled on the couch like some big jungle cat, his black sweats riding low on his lean hips. He was all brutal strength beneath smooth, lightly tan skin—not an ounce of fat anywhere. A living, breathing reality of what a fallen deity truly looked like. He was as dangerous in his lifestyle as he was tempting. And he wanted her.
He watched her through half-mast eyelids. “Scared?”
“Hardly.” The denial rushed out. What he asked would change everything between them, if she took this leap.
“Good.” He patted the handspan of available leather beside him. “Lie down.”
“You’re practically taking up the entire couch,” she croaked.
“And you turn everything into an argument.” He waited, his stare daring.
Unable to deny the longing within her, Kira stopped fighting her feelings and lay down on her side near him. Cautiously, she put her hand over his warm stomach for purchase so she wouldn’t fall off and land on her butt.
“That won’t work.” He tugged her to sprawl half over him and put his arm around her waist, keeping her secure against him. “This way, you won’t hurt yourself again.”
“What? Sleep on you?”
“Why not?” he drawled. “I rarely do. I’ll make sure you don’t turn over.”
Too aware of his bare chest against her cheek, and his incredible masculine heat enfolding her, she remained silent. It felt so good to do this—to finally hold him.
“Just one little thing, Kira,” he murmured, gliding his warm palm down her side then up again as if unable to stop touching her, his fingers lightly brushing the sides of her breasts. God, she bit back a moan as her treacherous body melted, craving his touch—craving skin contact. “I’ll never let you go. Ever.”
It took a moment for his soft words to register. Her gaze snapped to his, her breath jamming in her throat. “What?”
He sighed, his distracting hand slowing its torment. “What exactly didn’t I make clear?”
“You can’t just say something like that and expect me to simply agree and say yes—”
“Why not?”
At his dead-serious tone, Kira blinked, so sure her entire world had just shifted off its axis. She’d lain down beside him because she wanted this time with him, for however long they were at the cabin, knowing it could never be more. “Why now? Why, after a year?”
His mouth tightened briefly. “Because I’m a selfish bastard. I want you. Always did.”
Her heart pounding painfully against her ribs, Kira pushed up, needing space, distance from him to think. But she barely scraped an inch of freedom with his arm keeping her pinned against him. “Týr, I need to breathe.”
In a quick move, he slipped one hand beneath her knee and dragged it across his stomach, pulling her to straddle his rock-hard belly, her nightshirt bunching around her thighs. Her jaw hit her chest. Amusement lit his eyes.
How was this any better? She bit off a moan, all too aware of the intimacy of their position. Slide a little lower, and she’d feel every inch of that rigid length of him her body ached for. So tempting to just give in to her desires, but this was heartbreak waiting to happen.
She braced her palms on his warm stomach marred with a few nicks and scars. “Týr we—I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Yes, we can.” He settled his hands on her hips. “We’ve danced around each other long enough. It ends now. Even you cannot deny this attraction between us.”
“You’re deliberately being obtuse!” Kira clung desperately to reason. He had to know that what he pledged was impossible. “I’m not your destined. And you know it.”
“That’s why you dislike me?”
She met his shadowed eyes, understood that it wasn’t his fault when a horrible mystical law bound him. “Of course, not.”
A tic started up on his jaw, and his eyes darkened like a brewing storm. “I don’t give a fuck about the destined mate crap. No one dictates my life! I. Want. You. You want me. End of story.”
“You’re impossible.” She smacked his chest in frustration, even though hope made her long to throw caution to the wind. “You’re not thinking this through—”
“And you think too much.” He grasped her hands, his dark expression morphing to a sensual one. “Instead of hitting me, why don’t you kiss me?”
“What?” The man continued pulling the rug out from under her feet. Maybe he liked seeing her down on her ass.
His fingers snaked into her tumbling mane, and he dragged her face down to his, a hair’s breadth separating their mouths. Those heated pale-toffee eyes held hers for an endless second.
“Kiss me—fuck my mouth like we both want.”
Her face burned at his crude words. “Týr—”
He kissed her.
His warm, firm lips slid over hers. He nipped her lower lip then sucked away the sting, and she could do little but to respond to the fire he ignited in her. His tongue swept into her mouth. There was nothing gentle about Týr’s demands. His fierce passion set her body alight. His kiss burned straight through all her doubts and fears, hauling her into a blazing need she could no longer deny.
He shifted her down his muscled body as if she weighed nothing more than a silk sheet, her clit dragging against his erect, sweats-covered sex. Her fingers dug into the hard planes of his pectorals as she kissed him back. She wanted him. Beyond reason, more than she ever believed possible, she wanted him.
His callused palms slid under her panties and he squeezed her bottom, his touch sweeping her into a maelstrom of pleasure.
He broke their kiss. Her breath caught, her eyes flickered open at the powerful need raging inside her. Týr watched her with irises gone a pale, molten gold in desire as he reached for the ends of her nightshirt. He drew it off and toss it aside. Then he simply stared. Kira bit her lip. As if in awe, he palmed her breasts, both thumbs grazing her areolas before flicking her nipples. “You’re so damn beautiful. It’s a sin to cover a body like yours.”
Whatever her usual comeback would have been got lost in a haze of desire. Sure, she was curvy, but that sweeping stare of his over her body made her feel utterly sexy.
Týr sat up, the movement causing his rigid cock to press against her clit as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. The strong pull of lips and lashing tongue had desire rushing straight to her core.
“Týr…” she moaned in desperation, rubbing her panty-covered clit against his rock-hard sex, craving more of him.
His hand slipped between their bodies and beneath her panties. “Is this what you want?” he asked huskily, running his thumb over her cleft, parting her flesh. “For me to make you come?” His burning gaze held hers as he lightly rubbed her swollen nub, and she jerked, the intensity of his touch overwhelming.
“God, yes,” she whimpered, lowering her brow to his. Her fingers gripped his hair.
He slowed his exploration of her folds and then slid his big body down the couch. Before her mind could connect with what he was about, he grasped her waist and drew her up his chest.
“Wait—wait! What are you doing?” she gasped, her mouth dry, heart pumping hard as if to keep up with her harsh breaths.
“Your back’s hurt. I can’t think of any other way for what I want to do. Actually, I can…” He grasped her panties, silk ripped, startling her. “But I like this way best—you, riding my face.”
He settled her splayed knees alongside his head, his palms stroking her inner thighs. Heat spread across her face that he could see her intimate self so close.
“I don’t believe it.” He cut her a surprised stare. “My little fighter
’s shy?”
She glared, trying to stifle the urge to close her thighs.
Týr’s grip tightened in warning, keeping them parted, then his fingers stroked her sensitive, bare mound. A smile started. “Don’t be. I plan on seeing and tasting every inch of your delectable body before morning comes.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t go dropping my clothes for everyone I meet,” she muttered.
Those questing fingers stilled, his expression suddenly intense. “That’s good to know. Now I don’t have to kill anyone. I want to lick you. Right here…” He lightly stroked her slit apart. Blood thundered in her ears. “Say it.”
Oh, hell. She grew wetter at his words. He seemed determined to drive her out of her mind. “Týr—”
“Say it, Kira.”
“I want you to lick me, too—eeep!”
He yanked her hips forward—her hands flew over to the armrest—he put his mouth on her core. His warm, wet tongue slid down one side of her folds before gliding up the other side to lightly stroke her clit. Oh, God! Her lungs felt as if they would explode. She gripped on to the padded leather like an anchor. Desire, thick and heavy, turned her blood red-hot.
His fingers squeezed her butt cheeks as he explored her with his tongue. Christ, she didn’t know if she could endure this sensual onslaught. Then he shifted her, and her body bowed backward, her hands flying behind her to rest on the hard planes of his lower stomach, causing her thighs to spread even wider.
Her embarrassment long gone, she no longer cared that she was open to him, just ached for his mouth to ease her torment.
“Perfect.” The word rumbled out in a low growl against her core, stroking her passion like a flame. “Now I have this delicious part of you exactly where I want.”
He lightly ran his tongue over her aching flesh, lashing her with little flicks and sensual nips. Desire thrummed deeper, pleasure holding her mind captive.
But positioned this way, she couldn’t press her clit into his mouth. He controlled every movement. And she desperately needed the push, needed him. Her fingers dug into his abs instead. “Týr, please…”
“You beg me so well,” he teased, his voice rough. He slid a finger into her sensitive sheath. Her inner muscles tightened, her body tensed as he thrust in and out. So close—so close. As he pushed another finger into her, working her core with his digits, his mouth covered her aching clit, and he tugged hard on her flesh with his teeth. Her orgasm exploded, hauling her into a place where nothing existed but unbelievable pleasure and him…
Breathing hard, her body boneless, Týr moved her down his torso and settled her half over him again. “Maybe now you can sleep.” A teasing smile tugged at his mouth.
Too dazed to think clearly, Kira pressed her heated face to his chest. If he could do that with just his mouth and hands…she couldn’t wait to see what he could do with his body. But first, another longing burned deeper, the need to touch him as intimately as he had her—to caress this immortal who wanted her.
Kira straddled him once more, but lower this time, over his thighs. He arched a brow. She merely smiled and kissed his belly button, his fingers tangled in her hair. As she trailed her lips down his hard abs, her chin bumped something hard. The head of his sex pushed past the edge of his waistband.
Meeting his searing gaze, Kira eased his sweats to his thighs.
At the sheer size of him, she blinked. Heck, he was a big guy at six-eight, and his sex was proportionate to his size, deliciously long, thick, and so damn tempting. Unable to resist him, she wrapped her fingers around his heavy length and licked the head of his cock.
He cursed and grasped her hair, holding her still. “Kira, you don’t have to do this now. The stars know I want you so damn bad, have for so long, but this can wait until you’re healed.”
“My back’s hurt, not my mouth.”
Amusement curved his lips.
“I…wanted you for just as long as you’ve wanted me.” She ran her thumb over the crown of his cock, spreading the pre-cum there. He lost the smile.
His stare gold with desire. Kira lowered her head and ran her tongue along his length. His fingers threaded through her hair and tightened. “Then stop fucking around with my dick and put it in your mouth.”
Kira laughed before taking him deep, her tongue sliding over the silky skin wrapped around his steely length. She squeezed the inches of him she couldn’t reach, her other hand gently massaging his heavy balls.
“Fuck, Kira,” he groaned. She would have smiled were her mouth not busy. Heck, she liked making him crazed with lust. She worked him, tightening her lips around his thickness and sucking with firm pulls.
“You’re going to kill me with that mouth of yours—wait.” Týr grasped her head, holding her still, his big body gone motionless. “I’ll be right back.”
He shifted her off him and rose. His features hard.
How did he do it? Switch from being consumed with passion to possessing this dead-cold demeanor? Kira snatched her discarded nightshirt from the floor, dragged it on, and then rushed after him as he padded barefoot to the front door and opened it. The sounds of the whining winds drifted to her.
He stood there in the frame, blocking her view.
“What is it?” She put a hand on his board-straight back and looked around him. It had started to snow again. “You think the shadow found us?” she whispered.
“I don’t sense anything. If it does, make no mistake, I will kill it.” His tone that of a ruthless killer. “It’s probably just the winds causing the noise.”
A faint whine reached her ear. “It sounds like an animal…” She peered into the swirling snow and spotted a black bundle stumbling near the bottom step. “Oh, no. Týr—” She tugged at his arm. “It’s a pup.”
“No.” He pushed her back inside. “Its mother will come looking for it, and I’m not in the mood to fight off wild dogs.”
The small, trembling furball hit the bottom step. It pitched out another pitiful wail. The pup lurched away, bumping into a pile of forgotten firewood.
“Týr, we can’t just leave it. If its mother comes, we can let it go then.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the pup.
“Týr!” She smacked his back. “We can’t abandon the little thing in this weather.”
Growling, he raised his head heavenward as if pleading for answers, then with bare feet, he stepped onto the snow-covered deck and loped down the steps.
Now that he wasn’t there to block the cold—aw, crap! Kira hastily wrapped her arms around her waist as the icy air stole whatever warmth she’d gained from Týr’s sexy body. He tried to grab the pup, but it scurried backward.
Kira grinned as he faced off with the tiny bundle of fur, who refused to come anywhere near him.
“Listen, you little ball of trouble, you evade me again, I’ll leave you out here.”
Good grief. “Týr, that attitude won’t work. You’re frightening him. You need to be gentle.”
He scowled at her, but the sight of him out there in the falling snow, trying to rescue a wild animal, melted her heart.
“Cats are better,” he grumbled. “At least they’ll never reveal where you hid the body to the cops.”
Kira bit back a smile at his testiness. “Are you going to complain instead of bringing him inside? Fine, I’ll help.”
“No, you won’t,” his terse voice drifted to her, but she was already scurrying for the boots she’d left to dry near the fireplace. The door shut before she’d even pulled on her footwear. Týr walked inside, holding the snarling pup by its scruff. She dropped her boot.
“You owe me,” he muttered, striding to the hearth. Crouching, he set the squirming furball near the heat. The animal slid away until his rump bumped her toes, then he appeared to calm down.
“Hey, little guy,” she crooned, going down to her knees. Soulful, dark eyes settled on her. The puppy appeared to be a couple of weeks old. “Maybe we should feed him?”
Cu
tting her a heated stare, Týr rose and strode off to the kitchen. Kira cast a quick look around and found the towel she’d used earlier for her hair near the fireplace. Folding the warmed terrycloth, she formed a makeshift bed near the fireside.
Týr reappeared with a bowl of milk and set it on the floor, hunkering down next to her again. “Listen up,” he told the pup. “You make this place your toilet, out you go.”
“Stop threatening the poor thing.” Kira cautiously reached out and stroked the shivering pup. “He needs to get warm.”
Grunting as if that was an answer, Týr watched the puppy, frowning.
“What?”
“There’s something about him…” Then he shook his head. “Yeah, that’s no wild dog, it’s a wolf.”
Oh, crap. Kira warily eyed the animal. “Fine. We can set him free in the morning.” Because she’d rather not have a she-wolf on her doorstep.
The tiny wolf shook its body as if ridding itself of the wetness, its black fur gleaming in the firelight. He took one slurp of the liquid then ignored the milk and settled on the towel.
“Ungrateful wretch,” Týr muttered, rising to his feet. He crossed to the couch, lay down again, and held out his hand to her.
“Wait, we need a pillow.”
“There are many ways I’d like to use a pillow with you,” he murmured, his gaze sweeping over her in a sensual caress. “Go ahead, get it.”
Oh, man. Kira hurried off to the bedroom, her face burning at the images his words conjured, and returned a minute later with the cushion.
He tucked it behind his head, then grasped her hand and pulled her down, settling her half over him again. His arm came around her. Kira doubted she’d manage to sleep this way. But really, she no longer cared. She was right where she wanted to be.
The crackle of the burning wood echoed in the quiet room. Kira snuck a peek at Týr. He had his other arm thrown over his eyes, revealing only the lower part of his straight nose and chiseled jaw. His lips were pressed into a flat line.
Uneasiness stirred. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly. “I thought you wanted this—us?”
His fingers drew small circles on her lower back. “It’s not you. Never you.”
Heart's Inferno (Fallen Guardians 4) Page 12
