Fatal Strike (McClouds & Friends #10)(72)

He dragged himself away, gasping for breath. “No.” Lust and frustration made his voice harsh.

She went stiff, tried to pull away, but he locked his arm around her. “No,” he said. “You stay right here. In my arms, in my mind. I don’t care if it turns you on. Be turned on. Just get some sleep, someplace safe. And do not tease me. I’ve had enough.”

“Or else what?” she said, peevishly. “Mr. Masterful.”

He laughed. “Tell you what. We get you fed up, healed up, we find someplace safe, solve your problems, and then, I will offer myself up as a sex slave. Okay? Whatever, wherever, whenever you want. Until then, I’m concentrating on keeping you alive, and getting enough sleep is part of that enterprise. You get me?”

She was silent for a moment. “I want it in writing.”

“Huh?”

“The sex slave bit,” she said. “In writing.”

He was grinning so hard now, his cheeks actually ached. “I’ll get it notarized for you,” he promised. “Inside. Now.”

She shifted, snuggling closer, and draped her slender leg between his. He sensed her fierce concentration in the stillness—and ah, yes, there she was. The sweet bright glow, in the Lara place, flicking on.

The incredible intimacy of the contact sent a fresh surge of lust surging through him. He hauled himself back. By brute force.

It took a long time for her to drop off, but eventually, he felt the change as her breathing slowed, steadied. The quality of Lara light changed, from a bright focused point to a glowing, diffuse cloud.

That glow was so beautiful. It felt almost like being happy. Or at least, it felt like one tiny, perfect fragment of happiness. A sweet, perfect oasis, surrounded on all sides by a blasted wasteland of terror and danger.

He spent hours staring up into the darkness, hot-eyed. Slowly stroking the silken coils of her hair that lay on his chest. Challenging the monsters in the darkness, as he listened to her breathe. Slow, steady.

Celebrating each single individual breath as a personal victory.





17


The sun was hot against her skin. The grass she lay in was soft, fragrant, tickling her cheek, rustling in the wind. This meadow was one of her favorite places in the Citadel, which was full of shifting rooms, realms, landscapes. The weather constantly changed according to the mercurial moods of its gorgeous, brooding inhabitant.

For whom she waited, breathlessly.

He appeared out of the trees that bounded the clearing. Tall and strong, dark hair blowing back from his face in the wind. Dark eyes, ardent and glowing with purpose. Fixed on her. Focused utterly on her.

He moved toward her as she rose from her nest of crushed grass and flowers. The white dress fluttered in the wind, flattening against her legs, revealing every detail of her body.

A blatant offering, and he wasted no time taking her up on it. He seized her, urgent, wordless. Jerked the bodice of the dress down to bare her breasts. She struggled to free her elbows from the sleeves, but he kept her trapped, wiggling against his hard body as he kissed her, his hands moving eagerly over bare skin, thin fabric, making her shiver and sigh.

His tongue moved in her mouth, probing and questing. She was still struggling to free her arms when he dragged up her skirt, and made a growling sound in the back of his throat when he found her naked beneath. He slid his hand between her legs, stroking tenderly to bring forth her slick lube. She’d been soft, wet. Aching for him before he even appeared.

She fought her arms free, and abandoned herself to his kiss, to his skilful hand, the heat of his erection pressing her belly.

She sank to her knees, groping at the opening of his pants. Hungry to hold and lick and play with his hot, thick cock. It sprang out, swollen, jutting red and thick from its nest of hair. She clutched at the broad stiff shaft with both hands, stroking from root to tip, wetting her hands with saliva. Swirling her tongue around and around, tonguing that broad, velvety smooth cockhead. Lapping and lashing with joyful enthusiasm.

He guided her head to take him deeper, and she slowed down and drew him inside; long, swirling strokes that left his cock gleaming, shiny, the thick veins snaking around, blazing an angry red. He withdrew with a harsh groan, prying away her clutching hands, and turned her, pushing her around, pushing until she stumbled down into the thick grass, on her hands and knees, skirt flung up over her back. Arching back to meet him.

He waited, sliding his cock tenderly around, a teasing dip and swirling push, a slow slide down the length of her slit, petting each slick, shivering fold and crevice, bathing himself in her lube. Circling, stroking, so careful and deliberate, so sure of himself. Teasing, circling, swirling.

Driving her mad. She shoved back against him, demanding more.

Finally, he slid inside. It was slow, deliberate, delicious. His thick cock plumbing her depths, swiveling, pressing over every hot spot. Remolding her body with each delicious dip and stir, swirl and thrust—

She woke up in the dark, disoriented. Convulsing. Throbbing pleasure, as she clamped jealously around—

Him. Oh, God, him. Miles’ naked body was plastered to her backside. His cock was thrust deep inside her from behind.

She was so startled, she cried out. Miles woke up, and let out a sharp gasp. “Oh, God. Lara, I—”

“Please,” she gasped out.

He started to withdraw. “I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean to—”