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She moaned at his sensual praise, the only reply she could manage as her blood rushed feverishly through her veins, setting every nerve ending on fire.
And Gideon gave her no quarter whatsoever. His fingers played her with masterful skill. His mouth was relentless, his tongue so very, very good.
Her legs were going boneless beneath her. She clutched his head, buried her fingers in the short blond silk of his hair as her pleasure built and crested, about to crash into her. "Gideon," she gasped. "I can't take anymore. Please...you have to stop..."
"Never," he growled. "Let go, baby. Let me take you there."
Her knees were jelly, the muscles of her thighs quaking as the rush of orgasm roared up on her.
"Mmm, that's it, Savannah," he coaxed. "Come for me. Let me hear you."
Her voice was a strangled cry as he suckled her harder, driving her higher as her climax raced for its peak. She couldn't slow it down. Couldn't hold it back another moment.
And then she did scream his name. It tore out of her on a ragged gasp as her entire being shattered against Gideon's mouth. She was still quivering with aftershocks as he rose up from his crouch and quickly shed his pants.
"Shirt too," she murmured, drowning in pleasure but wanting to feel his naked skin against her. He hesitated for a moment, his face averted--a strange pause that might have registered more fully, had she not been wrapped in the fog of the most incredible orgasm she'd ever had.
Gideon pulled off his shirt and she caught only a fleeting glimpse of intricate, tribal-like tattoos on his chest in the instant before he swooped down on her with a fevered kiss. "I need to be inside you," he growled, sounding dark and hungered, the rough scrape of his deep voice virtually unrecognizable. "Now, Savannah."
"Yes," she agreed, needing to feel more of him too. "Now."
He claimed her with a kiss so savage and carnal, it rocked her. She felt herself moving backward swiftly, her feet hardly touching the floor. She came up hard against the wall of the bedroom, Gideon's big body covering her. His mouth still locked on hers, his strong hands drifted down to cup the cheeks of her ass. He squeezed her possessively, his erection rising hot and proud against her hip. He shifted his weight on his feet, catching her in a different hold now. Then he lifted her as though she weighed no more than a feather, guiding her legs around him.
He felt so good against her, warm and hard and hungry.
So real.
In the midst of so much terror and confusion, being with Gideon was the only place she felt safe.
She'd never known anything that felt so right.
"Take me now," she murmured. "Take all that you want, Gideon."
He didn't answer. Not in words, that is.
Holding her aloft in his hands, he thrust his pelvis forward and seated her to the hilt on the thick spear of his cock. He moved with urgent strokes, in and out, deeper and then deeper still, pistoning her on his length.
Savannah felt tension rack him as his tempo increased to a fevered pitch. His shoulders were granite under her curled fingers, his muscles bunched and knotted as she clung to him and let him chase his own climax.
He found it swiftly, his hips bucking wildly, pushing farther inside with every claiming pound of his flesh against hers. Savannah was already breaking apart again, splintering with pleasure, as Gideon roared a wordless, reverent-sounding oath and filled her with the hot rush of his release.
Chapter 11
Bill Keaton knew he had company at his house in Southie that night, even before the tall, impeccably suited man peeled away from the shadows inside the front door.
He'd been expecting this visit, forbidden to ever seek the man out, but to wait always for his instructions. To carry them out without question or failure. Keaton was loath to disappoint, and he knew the news he had to impart tonight would not be welcome.
He got up from his recliner and left his half-baked frozen dinner sitting untouched on the TV tray to greet his visitor. Behind him in the living room, the television blared with sirens and gunshot sound effects. One of those cop dramas he watched every week, but now couldn't recall why. Like the salisbury steak and mashed potatoes he'd warmed up for dinner more than an hour ago, he found he no longer had the taste for any of the things he once enjoyed.
He was different since the incident at the university a few nights ago.
He was a changed man.
And the cause of that change now stood before him in expectant silence inside Keaton's house. Keaton gave a deferential nod of greeting, as respectful as a bow.
"Did the individual sent to deal with the girl show up as planned tonight?"
"Yes," Keaton replied, eyes remaining downcast, subservient. "Everything was in place, just as we discussed."
