Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(15)

Her brows pulled together as she watched him as if she wasn't certain she'd heard him right. Then she reached for him, closing her cool fingers softly around him. His breath hissed into his mouth at the incredible feel of her touch.

Slowly, she began to stroke him. With her free hand, she cupped his stones, squeezing gently and rolling them, rubbing them against one another. Blood surged between his legs. Within moments, he was erect and ready for her.

She wasted no time in lifting her dress to her waist and straddling him.

His mind balked, still fully mired in all those other times with Ancreta. But his body burned to feel this woman's body swallow his length as it had once before.

Taking firm but careful hold of him, she positioned him at her entrance and slowly tried to force him inside. But her body was tight and dry, and her jaw clenched against the obvious discomfort.

"You're not ready."

"It doesn't matter." Her voice was strained as she pushed him farther in.

His body longed to help her, to thrust up and inside, but he'd only hurt her more. "It matters. If you remember the way it was between us in the woods, you can't truly believe it doesn't make a difference if you're ready."

"You wanted me then."

Paenther groaned. "You're holding the evidence of my desire in your hand, witch." He met her gaze. "I hate what he did to you. I don't want to watch it happen again. Besides, I assure you, I want to be inside you."

Her eyes slowly began to darken. "Your words are helping."

"Good." He could tell. She was softening slightly, but his way was still far from clear. Goddess, but his body wanted to move. "What's your name, little witch?"

"Skye."

"Skye with the sky blue eyes. Touch yourself, Skye."

She looked at him uncertainly.

"Between your legs." His eyes narrowed. "Have you never pleasured yourself?"

She shook her head with a jerk.

"Touch yourself between your legs as you ride me, right at the front of your slit. Find the place it feels best, then stroke the flesh there. It should ready you."

Her gaze was enigmatic, as it was so often, but she did as he said, reaching down, her fingernail softly scraping his shaft as she found the place she sought. She gasped, and he knew she'd found it. Within seconds, her body opened like a slick, damp flower, easing his way.

What kind of a fool was he for helping his captor take him against his will? Yet, it was hardly against his will, was it? Goddess, she felt sweet.

Paenther threw his head back, lifting his hips to press more deeply inside her, then opened them to watch her hips rising and falling as if she were indeed riding him. Like in the woods, he felt an utter sense of rightness when he was buried inside her.

Skye watched him, her eyes growing heavy-lidded with rising passion, her full lips parting on soft, tiny gasps.

Power rose in the room, running not unpleasantly over his flesh. As the power thickened, her rhythm increased, her movements growing more rapid. She pumped him hard and fast, in and out until he was nearly out of his mind with lust and need and debilitating pleasure.

With a guttural cry, she threw her head back, coming, her inner muscles squeezing him in hard spasms until he was following her over, his body pumping his release deep inside her.

Skye looked up, and he followed her gaze to the dark orbs shooting with sparks of color as if they could barely contain the power inside. Her gaze lowered to his, her mouth softening.

"We did it," she said.

"We did." And what exactly had they done? To what dark purpose would the Mage put that power? Had he, in helping a sad-eyed witch, compromised his own mission? His own men?

Locked inside this cavern, he wasn't sure he'd ever know.

She rode him for a minute more, slowly, milking her pleasure, then finally pulled off him to sit at his side, pulling her dress down as she pressed back against the wall. With an unsteady hand, her chest still heaving, she ran her fingers through her hair, slowly meeting his gaze.

"Thank you." A soft, fleeting smile warmed her eyes, sending warmth cascading through his chest.

He felt the oddest, most inappropriate urge to smile in return. Goddess, but she affected him.

Her foot pressed against his hip, a light touch, but contact all the same, as if she needed to touch him.

He felt the same disquieting need.

"Free me, Skye. Let's both leave this place before that bastard hurts you again."

"I can't. He'll never let me go."

"I'll protect you."

Her mouth lifted ruefully at one corner. "You've promised several times to kill me, warrior. I know a ploy for escape when I hear it." She shrugged and tilted her head against the wall behind her. "Even if I could trust you, no one can protect me."

"Why are you so important to him?"

"I have a way with animals."

He didn't understand at first. But then he remembered a story he'd once heard of rare Mage with deep ties to various aspects of nature.

"You're a Mage enchantress."

"Yes." She met his gaze again. "Which is why you're drawn to me. It's why we raise the power we do. Because of the animal inside you."

"Is that the only reason?" Did she really have no sense of her own allure? Hadn't she noticed he got hard every time she walked into the room? He was damned sure it had nothing to do with his animal. He and his animal didn't communicate. They never had.