This Side of the Grave (Night Huntress, #5)(52)
“Just you,” I said, untangling myself from his arms.
He cast a meaningful glance at the thick bulge in his pants before looking back at me. “Not becoming a tease, are you?”
I felt the rub of fangs against my tongue, two pointed reminders of the heat flaring inside me, but I pushed my desire back. That was tough to do with Bones propped on his elbows, legs casually yet invitingly splayed, inky shirt unbuttoned to reveal a V of crystal flesh in extravagant contrast to the dark fabric. For a minute I stared at him, letting his beauty fill my eyes.
“Angels wish they were as gorgeous as you,” I said with conviction.
“I’m very far from angelic, but thank you for the compliment.”
The words were light—his expression wasn’t. It was intense, his eyes flashing with emerald, and that bulge between his legs sent rip currents of lust through me. If I kept staring at him, letting my mind dwell on the fact that he felt even better than he looked, I’d fall on top of him and lose all thought amidst the bliss of his flesh merging into mine.
But I had an agenda, and right now, it didn’t involve me jumping on him. We’d had so much stress, danger, and violence lately, with more coming on the horizon, that our circumstances didn’t lend themselves to romance, but I didn’t care. Sure, we could sit down, go over our battle strategy yet again, or smother each other with admonitions to be careful, but if I’d learned anything these past few years, it was to grab hold of moments of bliss when they came.
Or to make them myself, if circumstances weren’t accommodating enough to throw one my way.
“After tomorrow, we won’t see each other for a little while,” I replied, voice low and throaty. “So I want to make sure that you have something to remember me by.”
Chapter Twenty--one
I reached out to Bones with deliberate slowness, batting his hands away when he sought to pull me down again.
“No,” I said, pushing him flat against the bed. “Tonight, I’m in charge. Your only job is to lie back, relax, and”—memory of words he’d once said made a soft laugh escape me—“let me work.”
His brow arched even as a wicked smile tugged at his mouth. “I’d tell you to be gentle, but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”
No, he wouldn’t, and that knowledge only fueled my desire. Bones might be a master at control, but once pushed past his limit, he made love the same way he fought; ferocious, unbridled, and inexhaustible. I couldn’t count how many bed frames we’d ruined in our time together, and I hoped there were many more broken ones ahead of us in our future.
“Close your eyes,” I told him. He did, and I pressed on his lids lightly to punctuate my next point. “Keep them closed until I tell you otherwise.”
That little smirk still hugged his mouth as he complied. “Fancy me calling you mistress as well? You could always punish me if I forget and address you as Kitten.”
“No ‘mistress,’ and no more talking, either,” I said, biting back my grin even though he couldn’t see it.
Then, with far more slowness than I usually used, I unbuttoned his shirt, letting my knuckles brush his skin. Once that was off, I moved to his pants, controlling my urge to reach inside and instead treating his zipper to the same slow handling. With his pants undone, I dragged them down an inch at a time until they slid past his feet. Then, at last, I allowed myself to stare. Bones’s body was a pale, smooth landscape of beauty, the only dark interruptions being the thin line of hair on his stomach that flared to a patch of darker curls cradling the only fat thing on him. His skin gleamed with a vampire’s natural incandescence, emphasizing the hard muscles, lean lines, and enticing contours. His entire body invited touch, and I accepted that invitation.
My fingers grazed his chest, measuring his reaction in his deepening scent and the thrum of power in the air. His eyes remained closed, arms folded beneath his head for comfort—or maybe because he knew that showed off his chest to greater benefit. Probably the latter. Bones had mastered the art of seduction before this country even elected its first president. I continued trailing my fingers down his chest, enjoying the feel of him underneath their tips. He might be far more experienced at making someone weak with desire, but I had an edge, too. I knew everything he liked, and I was going to exploit that knowledge to my fullest advantage.
I splayed my hands along his ribs and moved them slowly up to his raised arms. His power tingled against my palms, sending pleasant vibrations through me. Then, I placed both hands on his chest and rubbed my thumbs across his nipples. They hardened to match the rest of his body.
“I love your hands,” he sighed. “You think I look like an angel? Well, Kitten, your hands are my heaven and your eyes are my home.”
The words warmed me, but his voice was its own temptation with its smooth English accent and sensual undercurrents. If I let him keep talking, he could entice me into doing whatever he wanted instead of what I’d planned.
“Shhh . . .” I drew out. Bones might not be able to see my smile, but he could probably feel it as I brushed my mouth over his in a feathery kiss.
“Mmm, my mistake,” he murmured, stretching in a way that sent muscles rippling down his body.
I licked my lips, forcing down my urge to follow those ripples with my tongue. Instead, I let my hands wander at will, stroking and touching him from his face to his feet and back again. Honestly, I hadn’t spent so much time just handling him before. Lust usually cut short such a thorough exploration since I lacked his patience and control. Tonight was different, though. Feeling him this way, lingering over the curves of his body and enjoying the low sounds of pleasure he made, was more than arousing; it was affirming. Bones was mine, and no matter what the future threw at us, we’d meet it together, come hell or high water.