Honor Bound(75)

After sharing a violently passionate kiss, she backed away from him. To his eyes, she was a vision of sexy disarray, with her mouth dewy from their kiss, her hair tangled about her head and shoulders, her blouse and bra open but not off, her skirt rumpled.

He stood still, slightly surprised, when, keeping her eyes riveted to his, she peeled his shirt off his shoulders. After letting it trail from her fingertips to the floor, she pushed her hand beneath his ornate, turquoise-studded belt. "Remember when you carried the knife here?" she asked. "It was extremely phallic."

"It was?"

"It was."

She worked her hand into the waistband of his jeans, the backs of her fingers pleasantly gouging his hair-dusted belly. Then her eyes still focused on his, she backed toward the bed, towing him with her, until the backs of her knees touched the edge of it and she sat down.

He looked sinister and dangerous with the moonlight shining on his dark beauty. It made his hair appear blacker, his eyes lighter, his body lithe and sleek and menacing. The cross hanging from his neck only made his throat and chest appear stronger by contrast. The silver earring winked at her.

With an airy touch, her hands drifted over his chest, his nipples. Her fingers combed down the ridges of his lean ribs until they reached the shadowy dell of his navel. He raised his hands to his belt buckle.

"No," she said.

When his hands obediently moved back to his sides, she made a ballet of unfastening the belt buckle. Fingers had never been so nimble, yet so agonizingly controlled and unhurried. The metal clinked musically in the darkness. His rushing breath was the only other sound breaking the total stillness.

One by one she popped free the heavy metal buttons on his jeans until all were undone and the fly was open. The smell of his soap and his skin and his sex greeted her warmly, muskily. She wanted to swallow his smell.

"You are so beautiful," she whispered. "So tall and strong and … hard."

Tipping her head forward, she pressed her open mouth to his navel. She slid her hands inside his jeans and eased them down. Slowly. Seductively. Softly.

He gave a hoarse cry when her tongue touched him.

Again and again and again…

Much later, as they lay entwined, naked now, basking in each other's body heat, she kissed his neck and whispered into his pierced ear, "I love you, Lucas Greywolf."

"I know."

And because he did, she was content.



The End