Page 41 of Taylor’s Warrior

After a flurry of light, teasing kisses, Taylor anchored her fingers in the silky, thickness of his hair, so she could guide his mouth to where she needed it to be. Rhys had other ideas. One strong hand encircled her wrist and pinned it to the pillow, leaving her fully exposed. With her other arm trapped between their bodies, she couldn’t have prevented the wild nips and kisses he scattered across her skin. When his mouth latched onto her nipple once more, her back arched with an eruption of pure pleasure.

“If I let go of your wrist, will you keep your hand there for me?” he asked, his voice rough with his own need.

“Can’t promise,” she managed to get out. “I need to touch you, too.”

“Later.”

How could a single word hold so much promise? It ignited the kind of need she’d move heaven and earth to satisfy, to worship his body as he was worshiping hers, to map out the contours of his stunning physique with kisses both fierce and gentle.

Every part of her ached for him. His hand roamed from her hip to stroke the soft skin of her inner thigh, and made its way back to the apex. Two fingers inside her and his thumb on her clit were all it took for her to cling to his arm and grind her hips against his hand.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her hair. “Now, come for me.”

Eyes tight shut, forehead pressed against his shoulder, she thrust against his hand as if her life depended on it. A third finger slipped inside her and she rode harder, her hips bucking wildly until her orgasm hit like a freight train.

She’d barely left the peak when the man’s mouth was on her again as he wove spell after spell, like some powerful, sensual magician. She needed to touch him so very, very badly.

As soon as her palm made contact with his cheek, his hand covered hers, and he lifted it away so he could press his lips to her palm. She shivered at the intimacy of the contact. “Rhys, please.”

Her plea must have triggered something inside him. He gave her a hard, brief kiss, then with ruthless efficiency, lifted her thigh over his—and blew her mind.

He was hard and hot, steel robed in velvet, ready to slide inside her. Taylor’s mind exploded like a barrage of fireworks at the feel of him pressed so intimately against her. A tornado of insanity had her wishing they’d both been tested and she had birth control in place, so she could have him bare inside her.

“You okay?”

She nodded, her forehead against his chest. “Just wishing for what’s impossible right now.”

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make it possible.”

“We can make it possible together, but it would take a miracle to make it happen right now.” She glanced at the foil packet on the nightstand. “I want you inside me, so suit up. You promised me consequences, remember?”

The man was built. His cock was even bigger than she’d assumed from the feel of him against her. He tore the packet open with his teeth, and with deft fingers, rolled the condom down his long, thick shaft. When he was done, he growled, and before she could draw breath, she was under him, and it was like he’d been made for her. Muscles flexed—strong arms holding him over her, hips and thighs powering his thrusts inside her. Coherent thought fled—all she could do was hold on and ride the wild maelstrom of emotion and sensation.

“Rhys!”

Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip as her climax crashed over her. Still inside her, Rhys held her through the all-engulfing, seismic waves of pleasure, until the last ripple left her wrung out and exhausted.

But he wasn’t finished with her. Still inside her, his hips moved again and somehow reignited the fire in her blood. Where it came from she had no idea, but somehow she found the strength to push Rhys onto his back and straddle him without letting him slip free. From this position she was able to drink in the sight of him—strands of dark hair clinging to his forehead, muscles hard with the effort of pleasing her, and a body she’d once never have imagined having under her. At one time, the thought would have been anathema to her—now, it was living, breathing bliss of a kind she’d never experienced.

Rhys made a guttural sound of possession that spoke directly to her primitive core. She planted her palms on his shoulders, leaned down, and breathed a single word straight from the heart.

“Mine.”

His gaze darkened and burned right through her. If he’d hoped to make her back off, he’d be disappointed. Her gaze meshed with his, and for a moment, they were locked in a standoff, until she lowered her head for a deep, satisfying meeting of lips.

Strong hands gripped her hips and held her in place to take his thrusts, each surge a welcome, fulfilling intrusion. Reason and logic were long gone—only lust and passion remained. His hips rose again and again, to drive his cock into her to the hilt, as her entire body shook with the effort to remain upright.

In the end, it was a losing battle. When she came this time, so did he, with an almost feral roar, and on the final shockwave of her orgasm, she collapsed into his arms, to be wrapped in an embrace she wished could last forever.

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“I guess I’d better go.”

The words sounded hollow to his ears, and before she’d even finished speaking them, Taylor started pulling away. Rhys’ response was instant and instinctive—he tightened his arm around her and anchored her even more firmly to his side. “Go? What are you talking about?”

He deliberately added an element of authoritative inflexibility to his tone; when she instantly stilled, he couldn’t deny its effectiveness.

“I assumed you wouldn’t want me to stay. Until the morning,” she added, with a touch of self-consciousness.