Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(81)

Perhaps he was, because she didn’t quite know this lover either. The one who touched her with sensual fascination and wanted to discover her every secret pleasure point. “Riaz,” she whispered when he kissed his way down her navel, having tugged off her jeans and panties to discard them over the side of the bed.

“Mmm.” A wet kiss pressed just above her pubic bone, his hands pushing her thighs apart, the roughness of his skin a shock that made her quiver.

It was the most intimate of kisses, his patience exquisite. Her soft cries lingered in the air, shimmered on the fine layer of perspiration that turned her skin into a mirage. And still he petted her with a slow attention to detail that made it crystal clear that while she was the one who trembled and broke, this was very much his pleasure, too.

His fantasy.

The realization was more intoxicating than any wine. Surrendering to the sensations, she was still gasping for breath when he finally made his way up her body to nip at her throat hard enough to leave a mark. All the while, he petted her breasts, her abdomen, the tops of her thighs with hands both proprietary and demanding enough that she knew his control wasn’t as impeccable as it appeared.

She opened her mouth to his kiss, her legs to the jean-clad thigh he pushed in between. But he withdrew it after only a second, muttering, “Skin,” before rolling away and stripping off his clothing to return to her, a big, dangerous predator who had decided to pet her to pleasure such as she’d never before felt.

This time, he settled himself over her, his erection pushing aggressively against her abdomen. He allowed her to close her fingers around the heated steel of him, the skin that sheathed him paradoxically soft. She wanted to taste him, please him as he’d done her, but tonight, she was his to do with as he wished. It wasn’t in the nature of a dominant female to give in so utterly in bed, but Adria hadn’t ever felt so treasured by a lover. It threatened to make her afraid, but she refused to submit to the insidious emotion, refused to taint a night she knew would become a memory she’d cherish.

His mouth at her breasts, licking and tasting. His hand between her legs. His fingers sliding deep into her, his way eased by the molten heat of her need. She squeezed, attempted to hold him, but he withdrew … and then he was nudging her thighs apart and pushing into her with the thick intrusion of his cock.

“Let me,” he whispered once more, sliding one hand under her head to fist it in her hair, stroking her leg up over his hip with the other.

She could do nothing else, her body his instrument. Rocking home with a grunt, he claimed another kiss, this one hotter, more demanding, but continuing to hold that lazy edge that said he had all night to love her. And when he began to move, it was with the same languorous rhythm, their bodies locked in a slow dance that seared pleasure through to her toes.

Seduced … she was being seduced.





Chapter 41





HAWKE LOOKED ACROSS the cabin to where his mate sat curled up in bed with a datapad. She was reading a paper her lecturer had recommended, while he had Kenji and Riaz’s joint report on the BlackSea negotiations. He’d rather have been in bed beside Sienna, but she’d barred him from it. “We won’t get any work done otherwise.”

Sprawled in the armchair he’d added to the cabin a couple of weeks ago, he tried to figure out why he was so damn happy when by rights, he should’ve been feeling a little surly.

Because she’s here. My mate is here with me, safe, doing something utterly ordinary.

It was a gift he couldn’t have anticipated a few months ago, and one he’d let no one tarnish with fear.

Sienna looked up at that instant. “You’re not working.” Touching her finger to the screen of her datapad, she primly turned a page.

“And you’ve been on the same page for ten minutes.”

“Drat.” Laughing, she put the datapad on the comforter and threw her arms apart. “As Ben would say, ‘Hi! Want to play?’”

Always. “Not outside.” It was raining, and while his wolf could function fine through snow and sleet itself, both parts of him liked being warm and dry.

“Some tough guy.”

“Come here and say that.” Putting down the report, he crooked a finger.

Instead of obeying, Sienna gave him a secretive, slightly guilty look. He’d seen that same look more times than he could count while she’d been a juvenile. Tempted to pounce on her, he said, “Do I want to know?”

“I want to make cookies.”

He grinned. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

She threw a pillow at him. “I brought the ingredients in my backpack. So, can we?”

Lobbing it back, he cocked his head. “We have the night to ourselves”—a mission to accomplish even with the current relative peace—“and you want to make cookies?”

She was suddenly very interested in the pillow. “Lara does it and it looks fun. Marlee and Toby like it.” She picked at the stitching of the pillowcase. “I’d like to know how … for the future.”

In case we have children one day.

She could’ve asked Lara, Evie, Tarah, but she’d waited to ask him. It made him her slave all over again. “Another memory for your box?”

Her smile was the sun coming out of the clouds. “I have chocolate chips.”