Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)(95)
Bottom line, they were as safe as they were going to be.
Which was still only safe-ish if he was awake. He really wished Devina hadn’t pulled a Billy Ocean and jumped out of his dreams and into his proverbial car.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said.
“And I’m suddenly worried about you spending the day down here. What happens if there’s a fire and we have to get out—or something? What does no sun mean, exactly.”
“You ever seen a brisket?”
“As in the cut of beef?”
“Yeah, barbecued.” As her face paled, he cursed. “Sorry, bad joke.”
“The sun is that dangerous for you?”
“Commercially available sunscreen isn’t going to help, how ’bout we leave it at that.” He glanced around. “Not unless they develop an SPF one million. And as for being down in your cellar? If this is where you’re going to be, this is where I’m going to be.”
She shook her head. “Why are you being so loyal to a stranger?”
“Because you’re not a stranger and it’s my fucking fault you’re in this mess. It’s my duty to do right by you. I told you, I’m a thief with principles.”
There was a long pause as they stared into each other’s eyes. Then she said, “Kiss me again, will you?”
Dearest Virgin Scribe—or Lassiter, as the case was—she didn’t have to ask him twice. Wrapping his left arm around her waist, he pulled her against him, and given how much of her he wanted to touch, the fact that he had to keep his other hand, the one with the gun in it, down by his side really teed him off. Fortunately, there were at least six feet six inches of other ways to connect.
As their hips met, his erection returned in full force, and he didn’t bother trying to hide it.
Especially as she arched into him and splayed her hands out on his chest.
Dropping his head, he whispered against her lips, “Like I said, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“Right back at you.”
And then they weren’t talking anymore. They were kissing deeply, swaying together, melding as close as her clothes would let them. His body was in a roar to take her, his need to mark what was his so great, he wanted to yank down her jeans and get into her in any way he could: Bent over the sofa. Up against the wall. On the floor.
Right where they were standing, her legs around his hips, her sex open to his—
The next thing he knew he was backing her up to the couch, and she let herself fall off her feet, landing on the cushions in a bounce.
“Take your hair out of that tie for me,” he said in a husky voice.
As she pulled whatever was holding it out, he sank down onto his knees. Setting the gun on the floor within reach, he curled his hands around the backs of her calves and stroked them.
“What do you like,” he growled.
Her heavy-lidded eyes flowed from his chest to his hips. “I like…”
While her voice trailed off, she stared at the ridge of his cock, the contour of it under her too-tight sweatpants throwing a shadow thanks to the ceiling light.
“You like this?” He stroked himself until he had to grit his teeth. “Tell me.”
“I like… that.” Her tongue made a slow circle of her lips. “Yeah.”
“You can have it.”
With an abrupt surge, Balz leaned over and took her mouth again, and he was rough about it, kissing her hard, penetrating her with his tongue. She took what he had to give her and clearly wanted more, her short nails biting into his back through the sweatshirt in a delicious series of pinpricks, her breasts tantalizing him as they came up against his pecs once more, her legs splaying wide to accommodate his lower body.
But their angle was all wrong for where he needed to be, so he took hold behind her knees and pulled her down on the cushions. Even though he had to break it off with the kissing, as her core came up against his arousal, they both groaned. Locking a grip on her hips, he rolled his cock against her, stroking her, stroking himself.
And he got to watch as she closed her eyes and strained, the pleasure making her moan.
“Balthazar…”
Well, if that wasn’t the best sound in the world.
He continued to work himself against her, the sweatpants offering no resistance, her jeans more the problem. When he finally had to pause, because he was about to come, damn it, he loved the way her hair had tangled around her flushed face.
Fucking hell, the scent of her arousal was in his brain, in his blood.
“How far do you want this to go,” he asked roughly.
Because he was very close to the point of no return. And he needed to be sure.
She murmured something like this is crazy. Or it could have been I want you like crazy.
Shit, he thought. Maybe she was going to be the voice of reason and put a stop to this.
Which would be proof positive that she was as smart as she was beautiful—
Instead Erika’s hands went to the fly on her jeans. “I don’t want to stop. And I don’t care that this is crazy.”
Guess he could almost read lips correctly, he thought. Something else to put on his résumé.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as he caressed her face.
“Yes, you are.” When he frowned, she talked over the protest he was going to make. “Your world’s stayed hidden for how long? You’re going to have to go back there.”
J.R. Ward's Books
- Lover Arisen (Black Dagger Brotherhood #20)
- A Warm Heart in Winter
- The Jackal (Black Dagger Brotherhood: Prison Camp #1)
- Consumed (Firefighters #1)
- Consumed (Firefighters #1)
- The Thief (Black Dagger Brotherhood #16)
- J.R. Ward
- The Story of Son
- The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)
- The Renegade (The Moorehouse Legacy #3)