Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(41)

The question was rhetorical, but the true answer just fell out.

“I want in.”

That was the truth. He wanted into the heart of her mysteries. To unravel her, master her, keep the keys, know the codes. All for his own greedy, possessive self.

The stab of visceral emotion triggered a sudden stress flashback. All at once, he felt the tight straps that the Midlands researchers had used to restrain him, cutting into his wrists and ankles while they f*cked around with his brain.

No. He fought down the hot flare of rage. He could not do this to Caro. She had her own demons to fight.

He rubbed his face, breathed in the chill of the ice cave before he dared to speak again. “Do you want me to f*ck you again?” It came out like a snarl.

She’d tell him to get lost. It was what he deserved, for being such a jerk.

She just stood there, straight and dignified, silhouetted against the faint light from the window. With his infrared implants and his AVP, he saw every eyelash in fine detail, as well as the haunted doubt in her eyes, even in the darkness—but she couldn’t see his face.

Which was good. He didn’t want her to see that look in his eyes. That oh-please-God-I’ll-do-anything-to-touch-you-again look.

She gazed out at the wind-whipped trees. Her pose was regal. She glowed with bright cobalt blues, edged with a haze of gold. The darker it was, the better he could see an energy sig.

He came up behind her. The warmth of his body made contact with her slender back. He pressed a slow kiss on her shoulder. “Sorry,” he whispered.

She turned slowly, laying her hands on his chest, gently trailing over his scars. To his utter surprise, she sank down with a dancer’s sinuous grace, and gripped his stiff penis. She kissed and licked his cockhead, sucking him deeply, eagerly into her mouth. Using her hands to grip him, caress, squeeze, stroke as she did so.

He was almost afraid to touch her. The sensation was so intense, he could lose control of the strength of his grip. He hung onto himself, stroking her hair slowly.

So good, that honey-sweet suckling kiss, enveloping his shaft. He couldn’t decide which erotic spectacle drove him crazier: taking her from behind, or having her kneel, voluptuously sucking his dick with that soft, full, luscious mouth.

Her excitement spurred his own. Her skill was unbelievable.

He didn’t last long, overstimulated as he was. He felt the energy tightening inside him. Tried to ask if he could come in her mouth.

Too late. The storm broke. He was tossed, wrenched by a violent orgasm.

He poured himself into her with a shout, his explosion melding with colors that had no name but Caro.

He somehow stayed on his feet, trying not to sway. Grabbed her upper arms, and lifted her to her feet. Drawing her into a never-let-you-go embrace.

They stayed that way for a while. Lost in bliss.

The intercom buzzed. She pulled away abruptly, startled. The moment was broken. He missed it already.

“Delivery,” he reassured her gently. “From the restaurant. No rush. First the gate, then the driveway. But I have to push the buttons.”

She hugged herself, shivering.

He pulled his big fleece robe off its hook, and draped it around her. “After we eat—how about a bath for two?”

She nodded. The robe was huge on her. The hem brushed the ground. She looked stunning in it. He threw on sweat pants, a T-shirt, and started the bath before going to pay for the food.

Coming out, he saw Caro looking out at the lake again, drawn once more to the sight of the glittering dark water. He cast a worried glance her way, wondering what she was thinking.

He hoped he hadn’t pushed her too hard.





Chapter 12


“Before we get too distracted,” Caro mumbled around her bite of roasted rosemary potatoes.

“Yes?”

“Do I hear the tub faucets running? I’d hate for your bathroom to flood.”

“Not a problem.” Noah piled more food on his own plate. “There’s an automatic water-level and temperature sensors. Not bathtime yet. Have some more steak.”

She swallowed her bits. “Mmm. Am having.” She stuck her fork into a juicy pink-centered slice and lifted it to her plate.

The food was incredible. She hadn’t tasted such savory flavors in so long. She’d gotten used to a constant gnawing feeling, and the juicy steak and fresh salads and sides overwhelmed her senses. The bread was crusty and golden, hot enough to melt the fresh butter. It made her feel almost faint.

For a few minutes, there was no conversation. She just stole appreciative glances at his big chest in that T-shirt, admiring the faint jut of masculine nipples. She herself was swaddled in yards of fleece. Except for bed-tousled hair and her face, there wasn’t much of her to see.

Although she looked forward to getting naked again. Tonight, she wanted to at least play at being whole. Just a normal woman, doing things normal women did. Hooking up with an interesting guy, taking him to bed, seeing where it went.

She’d spin this hot, lovely thing out for as long as she possibly could.

It was going to have to last her.

She had nothing to share but her body. Nothing any sane, healthy man would want, anyhow. If he knew the horrors inside her head, he’d be gone in a panicked flash.

He served her a large slice of an apple puff pastry. Cream sauce trickled down over the cinnamony apples inside. It smelled so good, tears sprang to her eyes. When pastry made you weep, you were in very bad shape. But she fully intended to devour every flaky crumb.