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He leaned back, preventing her breasts from smashing into his chest, her lips from meeting his. But deep down he willed her to keep coming, and she did—and then it happened. Her breasts...her lips...
A scream of denial blended with a groan of surrender. It was done. Contact had been made. Hating himself, his weakness, he pushed his tongue past her teeth and claimed her with a kiss hot enough to brand. Her sweet taste carried a hint of grapes just plucked from the vine, and the contrast, sweet versus wicked, attacked what remained of his control...until he had none left.
He tangled his hands in her hair and tugged, slanting her the way he’d wanted her. He took her mouth deep, rough, an endless sense of possession in the kiss, as if he sought to steal her soul. Mine. All mine. He would own every inch of her. Now. Always.
He thrust his erection between the apex of her legs, wishing he could thrust inside her. And he would have if he’d had a condom. But he’d never needed one before and didn’t keep them around. Can’t risk pregnancy.
He thrust again, harder, so damn hard, and if she’d been human, he probably would have broken her in half. As it was, she cried out incoherently with sublime, rapturous pleasure. Still. He gentled his motions.
“What are you doing? No.” She bit down on his lip until he tasted blood.
The action sent him into a maddened frenzy of lust, and he thrust, thrust, thrust again. On the final slide, she convulsed against him, shouting, “Yes!”
My woman is climaxing. Loving what I’m doing to her.
The knowledge broke him. Pleasure roared through him, parting his lips, his hoarse bellow echoing through the room. His muscles locked down on bone, squeezing as he plunged against her again and again before coming in his freaking pants...coming...and coming...until he had nothing left to give and collapsed.
“Don’t be mad,” she rushed out. “Please, don’t be mad. I couldn’t help myself.”
And he couldn’t blame her. He’d wanted this, too.
He was panting and couldn’t quite catch his breath, his heart running some kind of race inside his chest. “Can’t quite manage a good mad right now.” That would come later, he was sure, when he would curse them both. “Would it be wrong to pound my chest like a gorilla?”
“Wrong? No. Entertaining? Yes.”
He kissed her brow. “I need to clean up.”
She clung to him. “But I don’t want you to go.”
Determined to have an afterglow? What my princess desires... He got comfortable beside her, despite the humiliating condition of his pants, saying, “Tell me about the bond.”
She traced her fingers over his chest. “I’m really, really not a parasite.”
“I know you’re not a parasite, princess.” He’d thought it would make him weaker, deplete him, but she was right; he actually felt stronger. Fiercer. “What triggers the bond?”
Slowly she relaxed against him, their bodies practically fusing. “Many things. Continued close proximity. Need. Love. Even hate.”
His mind snagged on the word love. Did he want her to love him?
He didn’t know. Love complicated things.
But one thing was clear: he wanted her in his life forever. If there came a day when his touch wouldn’t sicken her, both of their worlds would change. She would be his. Utterly. Completely. No reservations, nothing held back. His chest constricted with longing. If not, they would just have to deal.
He was a bad, bad man. She deserved better, just like he’d told her, but she wasn’t going to get it.
“Go,” she whispered, giving him a little push. “Get cleaned up.”
He’d gone stiff, and he knew she’d mistaken the reason. But he padded into the bathroom anyway, thinking he needed a moment to process everything that had happened. He washed up, changed his gloves and pants...and then crawled back into bed with her without actually processing. There was no need, he decided. They were together. They would make it work.
He rolled to his side, keeping her locked in his arms. “I don’t know what thoughts were rolling through your mind a moment ago, but I’m right where I want to be.” Enjoying her while he could. “With you.”
She placed a kiss just above his heart, then nipped at his nipple, drawing a hiss from him. “Do you want to hear one of my secrets?” she asked.
“More than anything. But tell me while you bite me.”
Nibble, nibble. “Sometimes, when the loneliness of cell life got to be too much, I would imagine I was dating a nice, normal man who never made me angry.” Nibble.
“That’s not what you got,” he said, and twisted to his back, placing her on top of him.
Her hair spilled around him, creating a curtain. Only the two of them existed. “I know. I’ve since realized I like being challenged. Gives me a chance to be...me.”
“Good, because I happen to like you.” Liked being with her, too. She might be his greatest torment, but she was also his greatest source of joy. She amused him, challenged him, played with him. Let him be the kid he’d never had a chance to be.
“Do you like what I do to you?” she asked with a throaty purr.
“You know I do.”
“Good,” she said, mimicking him, nibbling, nibbling away, “because I’m about to do a lot more....”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A FACT OF Baden’s afterlife: alliances were a pendulum that swung one way then the other. A man had to keep his head on a swivel or a so-called friend could nail him in the back.
