Moonshadow (Moonshadow #1)(92)

I ran into the pub because you were there, he said.

She refused to let that divert her. She told him, You would have done the same thing if I hadn’t been. When those two Hounds were attacking Cael, you ran toward them, not away. It’s the same thing, Nik. We’re more alike than not, at least about that.

He rolled her onto her back, came on top of her, and put his elbows on either side of her shoulders, the fingers of his hands laced together at the top of her head. She felt enclosed, surrounded. Instead of feeling trapped, it felt comforting and good. The rightness of it hurt more than almost anything else she had ever experienced.

“I’ve lost so many people,” he breathed against her lips. “So many people, my Sophie. I think of their names and their faces until sometimes I think I’ve become nothing more than a remembrance hall that bears witness to each of their stories and how they ended. That part of me is threadbare and worn to the bone, and until you showed up, I thought I didn’t have it in me to care about anyone else again. But now I do, and yes, I’m struggling, because I don’t think I could take losing you too.”

Before, in the courtyard, pain had driven her side of the conversation, but now as she listened to him, compassion moved her to stroke his back. She murmured, “I thought we were taking a time-out.”

“I lied,” Nikolas said, and he kissed her.

She lost herself in the sensation of his mouth moving on hers, the weight of his body, the warmth radiating off his skin. Desire hit her low and hard. Her body felt empty and aching, and as she bent her knee, sliding her foot along his leg, his cock stiffened into a hard, thick length that pressed against her hip.

I’m going to walk away from you after this, she whispered in his head as she slipped her hand around his erection and squeezed him. Hissing against her mouth, he thrust his hips forward, sliding his cock against her palm. This is the last time, Nik. I swear it.

We’ll walk away from each other, he promised. He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with such wild heat, a moan trembled on her lips. He swallowed it down, thrusting deep with his tongue while he ran his fingertips along the edge of her panties. The light touch left a trail of fiery sensation in its wake. As soon as I get you out of my system, I’m gone.

The bastard was telling the truth. Furiously she bit his lip, and a gasp shuddered through him. So he was going to leave as soon as he got her out of his system. Fine. Two could play at that game.

At least now she knew what this was, she thought. It was (tremendous, mind-blowing, screaming, utterly fantastic, wildly pleasurable, heartbreaking) sex.

She would cut him off before he did it to her. This was the very last time, so she grew determined to make the most of it. Pushing against his shoulder, she urged him to lie on his back, and he complied, pushing back the covers as he stretched out on the bed.

Rising on one elbow, she did what she had wanted to do ever since the first time they had been together. She ran her lips down his body, learning by feel each muscle and hollow, the whorl of hair around his flat, male nipples, the vein that ran down his bicep. She ran the tip of her tongue around the curve of his belly button while he tensed his long, flat stomach with a hiss.

By the time she reached the edge of his silk boxers, she didn’t have a lot of teasing coyness left. Pulling aside the material, she grasped his penis at the root and took him into her mouth while his whole body went rigid.

His hands shook as he cupped her head.

They had to be quiet, so quiet. The others were just on the other side of the boxes and crates that made up her bedroom. It was torturously difficult to muffle the sound of pleasure she wanted to make as she suckled at the head of his cock.

He tasted earthy, delicious. Dizzy with enchantment, she licked down the side of his erection, relishing the velvet skin with the taut, hard flesh underneath. Cupping his sac, she molded and caressed him while she opened her throat to take him in all the way.

By then his whole body flowed like molten fire under her touch. He felt like he was burning up. She worked him, and worked him, drawing him in entirely before pulling back to the tip, while he swore an endless telepathic litany of profanities.

She had nowhere to put the noises she needed to make. It all had to go into his head. She crooned and sometimes laughed at his inventive swearing and told him how wonderful he felt and tasted, and how much she wanted to take him inside.

He reached down to circle her throat with one hand while he pumped, fiercely silent, between her parted lips. Your mouth is like fire and silk. He warned, I don’t think I can hold back.

Delighted, hungry for him, she gasped. Do it. I want you to come in my mouth.

Gods damn—here. Here it is.

He slammed one fist into the mattress as he convulsed, and his cock began to pulse, jetting semen into her mouth. She milked at him and took all of it while she ran one flattened hand up the tense, shaking muscles of his abdomen. When his climax appeared to ease, she lifted her head and wiped her mouth.

Come here, he growled. I’m not done yet.

It was the Wyr mating urge. He gripped her hips and lifted her over his body until she straddled him. Then he took hold of his erection and rubbed it against her hypersensitive, private flesh, making sure she was ready for him before he pushed upward.

She was so empty she ached with it and shaking so hard she could barely keep herself propped up. He felt bigger and harder than ever as he entered her. As he pushed in, and in, she stretched to accommodate him, twisting at the piercing pleasure of his penetration.