Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(88)

Seemingly of its own will, his hand continued down. At the leather hem of her skirt, he hesitated.

Carrow didn’t think she breathed until his hand disappeared beneath her skirt. She trembled as his palm grazed up her thigh.

When his fingers met the wet folds of her bare sex, his brows drew together, and he cast her a look so fierce, part scathing, part adoring.

A wild, lost male.



“I miss the way you touched me, Malkom. The way you kissed,” she breathed. She was wetter than he’d ever felt her, quivering with need.

His nostrils flared at the tantalizing scent of her arousal. “Damn you, witch,” he bit out, unable to stop his fingers from stroking her slick flesh. His cock shot even harder for that damp heat.

She leaned into him, laying her palms flat on his chest. Against his skin, she murmured, “Will you kiss me?” Then she licked his pierced nipple.

He shuddered, cupping her head tight to his chest with the crook of his arm. “Again,” he rasped brokenly as his fingers continued rubbing betwixt her thighs.

Her tongue darted out, flicking till his knees went weak.

“You want my kiss?” He released her. “Come to me.”

She stood on her toes, leaning up to him, but when she licked her plump lips, he was helpless not to meet her, slanting his mouth over hers. He groaned against her, having missed her lips over the long days and nights in that cell.

He could fool himself, letting himself believe that they were truly close, that they had no history. Yes, he could pretend that there was nothing between them—nothing but need. He kissed her harder, his tongue thrusting against hers.

She’d begun moaning, soaking his fingers. When he realized she was about to come, he drew his head and his hand away.

In truth, there was nothing between them but their need. No bond, no trust, no future.

She sagged against him, brushing her kiss-swollen lips again his chest. “I want you,” she whispered. “Please make love to me.”

He stared at the trees above as a soft rain began falling, misting his face. Lust clawed at him—but if he didn’t trust her, then how could he do this with her?

I have to know my offspring will be wanted and taken care of.

Earlier, he’d remembered there was a way he could take her and still prevent a child. But it might take more control than he had. Mustn’t bite her, then. Else he’d definitely spill inside her.

So ’tis done? He would have her this night?

Before when he’d thought he would claim her, his chest had been full of emotion, unbearably so. Now it felt hollow inside.

Just enjoy this, as any other male would do.

Finally, he would know what it was like to desire and to possess.

He gazed down when she began caressing his chest. His stomach dipped as she lightly dragged one fingernail above the top of his trews, back and forth through the trail of hair just below his navel. His cock strained to her touch, the crown jutting past the material.

“Oh, Malkom.” She sucked in a breath. “Stop me if you don’t want me to touch you, love. Otherwise . . .”

Stop her? He wanted to shove her cool hand into his trews, make her fondle his heated shaft and soothe his aching testicles.

When the pad of her finger met the sensitive tip, he groaned, knowing he was nigh defeated. She began rubbing the head, up and down the slit, coaxing until it gave up drops of seed for her.

Defeated.

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her hand away, then lifted her into his arms. He carried her to the blanket, laying her down to yank and tear her clothes from her.

Once she was stripped before him, he sat back on his haunches, releasing a pent-up breath. He stared, staggered by her beauty, feeling almost drunk on it.

The mist dampened her flawless skin. Her creamy breasts rose and fell with her panting breaths, her nipples stiffening as if to beg for a lash of his tongue.

Her heavy-lidded eyes seemed to glow with her desire. “Malkom, please don’t stop now.” She was squeezing her thighs together, her body subtly rocking with need.

“Ara, I have never . . . I do not know . . .”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I have never done this and . . .” He wanted to get it right. To not hurt her, only to pleasure her—

She wordlessly drew up a knee, parting her legs to reveal her glistening curls.

A growl was ripped from his chest. As he yanked off his pants, he told her in Demonish, “I am defeated, female.” Naked, he dropped to his knees beside her. “Tonight I must have you, else die from the wanting.”





39




Malkom rasped words to her that she didn’t understand. But no matter the meaning, she knew they were words of feeling, convincing her that she hadn’t lost him forever.

As he knelt before her, he again reminded her of a virility god. His towering body flexed with cords of muscle. His horns had nearly regrown and now flared back, darkening.

His damp blond hair whipped across his cheek, his blue eyes flickering to that intense black.

Yet as her gaze followed the golden trail of hair leading down to his shaft, his size gave her a moment of hesitation. If he wasn’t gentle, he would definitely hurt her.

Trust him, you’ve wanted this.

When he lay beside her, she leaned over to stroke him.

But he cast her that stern look, slowly shaking his head. In English, he grated, “No more of your touches, witch, lest I finish in your hand.” Then he gathered her wrists to pin them over her head. With his free hand, he readied two fingers to enter her, biting free his claws.