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She smiled and kissed him once, a gentle touch to his lips. “Well, that would be something.”
* * *
Kerrick looked into blue eyes, rimmed with gold, that had the power to hold him in thrall without once invoking a preternatural power. She was the woman for him. He loved her. He desired her. He needed her. The thought of communing with her caused his wing-locks to thrum. He always felt out of control when she was near, like if he really let go, his wings would mount when he didn’t want them to.
“I’m smelling cardamom,” she said. “Lots of it.” A dewy blush crept over her cheeks. Her lips grew swollen then parted. “So are you going to do anything about it, Warrior?”
The challenge in her words awoke the beast. He narrowed his eyes and growled, a low sound that vibrated heavily in his throat. He wrapped his arms around her a little more then kissed her, a forceful, don’t-mess-with-me kiss that had her moaning. He thrust his tongue between her lips. She suckled, which brought another growl rumbling in his throat.
He released her but her body had a boneless quality that made him smile. In a quick movement he lifted her in his arms then mentally rolled the comforter and sheet to the foot of the oversized bed. He settled her on the bed, the way he’d wanted her from the first, her long blond hair feathered out over the dark sheet.
He pushed aside one of her legs, making room so that he could move between. He leaned over her then planted his hands on either side of her shoulders. He looked into her eyes. “So, you ready for this, ascender?”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, her hands once more riding his biceps, stroking up and down.
Supporting himself with one hand, he slid the other under her stiff green shirt and made gentle circles on the bare flesh of her stomach. She arched, writhing beneath his touch. Lavender swirled up from her body, from every pore, even from her sweet breath as he leaned down and put his lips on hers once more. He kissed her in a teasing drift that brought soft moans from her throat.
He drew back and looked into her eyes, the blue eyes that had tempted him from the first, exquisite eyes with just a hint of gold around the rim of the iris, her eyes, his breh’s eyes. “I love you so much.”
Her hand slid to the nape of his neck. “Kiss me again.”
He obliged her and for a long time he savored her lips then the moist recesses of her mouth as his tongue drove deep. She slid her fingers through his hair.
He kissed her cheek, her neck, then moved lower to lick her in a long glide up her throat. “I want your blood,” he whispered, his voice little more than a deep hoarse rumble.
Once more she palmed the back of his neck, pressing. “My vein throbs for you.”
He licked and kissed the skin above her vein. He could feel the powerful pulses against his lips, the invitation so erotic. He was already hard but the thought of sinking his fangs and taking what he wanted shot desire through him like a bolt of lightning. The head of his c**k ached for release. The arms poised above her shook with need. And they’d barely gotten started.
Jesus. How the hell was he going to last when he swore that with only two deft tugs he’d be gone?
He took a deep breath, his fingers still teasing her stomach. She moaned and arched, her hips pressing back into the bed then up toward him.
“Kerrick,” she whispered. “I want you. How about you get me naked.”
He hissed as he leaned back. “So good,” he whispered. He groaned as his hands slipped to the top button of her shirt. He could have folded her clothes off, but dammit, he needed every precious second of this time with her, even though he thought the waiting might just blow the top of his head off.
He took a couple of deep raspy breaths as he undid her shirt. He followed the release of each button with his lips, one hot inch at a time. She panted and writhed beneath the lingering swipes of his tongue.
Once he had her bra exposed, he used a fang and sliced the damn thing in two, savoring the cry that broke past her lips.
As he pushed the lace away from her br**sts, his hips jerked in a single hard pump and once more his wing-locks sent a vibration through his body. He put a hand to her lower abdomen and this time folded off her olive-green pants. He looked down. Oh, God. She wore a black lace thong and he groaned.
“Spread your legs.”
Your voice, Kerrick, she sent. Oh, God, your voice, so deep.
At the same time she parted her legs wide. He settled his thighs low so that he didn’t make too much contact. He’d lose it if he did, and he needed to take his time.
He leaned over her, moving his forearms lower. He drew her left breast into his mouth and suckled. She cried out, flinging her arms wide. She wrapped her legs over his bu**ocks. He suckled until she was writhing beneath him and begging for more. Her hands once more found his hair. She tugged, pulled, and wrapped her fingers in his thick locks, her hips gyrating against his abdomen.
He tended to her other breast, sucking, laving with his tongue. She panted softly, her chest rising and falling in erotic pulses, moans flowing out of her throat as he continued to tend to each breast in turn.
She kept calling his name within his head, Kerrick, Kerrick, which again drove him crazy.
He released her breast and drew back. He couldn’t get far since her hands were buried in his long warrior hair and she didn’t seem to want to let go. Her face was turned to the side, her eyelids closed, her back arching, her hips undulating, her breath punctuating the air. Goddammit, his wing-locks surged and thrummed. He could feel familiar oil glistening at the apertures, weeping. How the hell was he going to hold on to his wings?
Shit. This whole experience might just kill him.
He settled his mouth on her other breast once more. The feel of her beaded nipple against his tongue … oh, God.
Her lavender scent now flooded the room. She was already close to orgasm and his erection throbbed.
He closed his eyes and focused once more on each breath he took. He swore that if his heart were any weaker the damn thing would give one hard jerk and stop pumping altogether.
Without losing contact with her breast, he folded off his kilt, wrist guards, and sandals. The briefs disappeared as well. Her legs, still wrapped around his bu**ocks, now connected skin-to-skin.
“That’s nice,” she murmured. “So nice.” She moaned now, deep moans from the bottom of her throat. He released her breast and moved down her body, her legs releasing their hold on his bu**ocks. When he’d reached the juncture of her thighs, he leaned close then carefully slid his fang beneath the left side of her thong and sliced, then the right. With each tug, she gave a little cry.
