Darkness Awakened (Primal Heat Trilogy #1) (Order of the Blade) (24 page)

Chapter Sixteen
 

It took less than an hour.

Quinn had been so amped up by the kiss with Grace that he’d completed his circuit of the woods in a fraction of the time it usually would have taken him. He’d been impressed with Drew’s ability to keep up, but Vaughn had been the one who had really made him take notice. Vaughn had kept up easily despite Quinn’s adrenaline-charged pace, and he’d had some insightful suggestions about security. Vaughn had refused to give up any information about himself, but he was clearly a warrior. A man who’d been around and made it back more than a few times. A good man to have on your side. A man who would complicate things if he was working against you.

Vaughn made it clear that he was ready to go from friend to foe in a minute to protect Drew. A truce had been drawn between the two warriors, but neither man was naïve enough to trust it blindly.

Quinn was looking forward to having Gideon at his back again, a man he didn’t have to watch. He’d touched based with his teammate, but Gideon hadn’t arrived at the fishing shack, and hadn’t been able to rouse Dante either. They both agreed it was looking grim.

After Quinn had parted ways with Vaughn and Drew, he’d taken time to try to reach Dante again, but he’d gotten nothing. He’d managed to pick up faint pulse of Drew’s hunter again, though, and he spent some time trying to pinpoint it or identify the source. He was successful at neither. In the end, he’d simply erected a block to interfere with it. He didn’t know if it was coming closer or going in the other direction, but he was certain he’d set up enough safeguards that Drew was safe there, safe enough that he could leave Drew there while he went up to Dante’s shack.

Until Quinn was certain no more Order members were going to go rogue, he wasn’t going to risk exposing Drew to the rest of the Order. Vaughn had been in agreement, and the two of them had spent some time double checking safeguards until they were both certain Drew would be unfindable as long as he stayed in the cabin.

While Quinn had been working, he’d been trying to assimilate all the info he’d acquired and figure out what was going on, but he’d been unable to get the image of Grace in the shower out of his damn mind. Every time he tried to focus, his mind would wander to those bare shoulders, to the taste of her mouth, to the swell of her breasts beneath her folded arms.

He needed a calm mind to read the
mjui
, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Grace long enough to concentrate. Quinn finally decided that distance wasn’t going to help the situation. It was time to deal with it straight on, so he could read the
mjui
and get focused on finding Ana, avenging Elijah’s death and figuring out what else was going on before Ezekiel’s walls fell.

Frustration was roiling through him as he threw open the front door of the cabin. “We’re going to deal with this now.”

Grace bolted straight up in bed, her eyes wide with the shock of someone abruptly woken out of a sound sleep. “What’s wrong?”

Her hair was still damp, in tight curls around her shoulders, and she was wearing his T-shirt, one she’d apparently pilfered from his bag. Damn. He liked the fact she was wearing his shirt. It was almost as good as being wrapped around her himself. Her face was scrubbed clean, her hands clenching the worn quilt as she tried to regroup from being startled awake.

He cursed and quietly shut the door behind him. “I didn’t think you’d be asleep yet. Sorry. No crisis.”

“Oh, good.” She collapsed back to the bed with a soft sigh, falling limply onto the mattress. She looked so innocent and fragile, snuggled down in the bed with her wet hair. “I was more tired than I thought.” She yawned. “I have a major headache from that image-transfer thing.”

“You up for talking?”

She rubbed her palm over her eyes. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

He sat next to her on the bed, sitting close enough that her hip was pressed against his, his hand braced across her on the bed. She’d kicked her leg out from under the covers, showcasing a long expanse of skin and a pair of his boxers. He flicked his finger over her waistband, brushing over the bare skin of her belly. “You’re wearing my shorts?”

“Seemed smarter than going commando.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tried to move his hand away. “After that kiss, I figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to climb into bed half-naked. You know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He resisted her hint to give her space when he felt her stomach quiver beneath his hand. Instead, he spread his fingers, palming her belly. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. We need to figure out how to deal with this attraction between us.”

She wiggled to the side so her hip was no longer touching his, but there was a faint flush rising in her cheeks. “Sex is a bad idea.”

“Yeah. It is. It’s one of the stages of the bond.” He had a sudden vision of crawling under the sheets and nestling up tight to her, wrapping his fingers in the silky dampness of her hair. Shit, no, that was what he was here to stop! He swore and pulled his hand back—

“No, don’t go.” Grace instinctively grabbed his arm. The instant her hand closed around his arm, the moment he felt her desperation not to lose physical contact with him, an answering need roared to life inside him and his willpower shattered.

He grabbed her and hauled her against his chest as he kissed her. Hard. Deep. Wet. Exactly how he’d imagined. Precisely as he’d wanted.

Her arms went around him and she kissed him back, frantically kicking her way out from under the covers, until her legs were free. She crawled into his lap, sliding those long, bare legs around his hips in a move that elicited a growl from him that was too carnal and too primal. As she settled into his lap, her thighs tight around his waist, he knew he was going to have her. She wasn’t going to push him away. Nothing was going to stop them. Not this time.

The moment he realized that, his desperation eased. His kisses slowed to savor the feel of her mouth under his. He slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt and groaned at the feel of her bare back beneath his fingers.

Reveling in the feel of her skin under his, Quinn ran his hands up and down her spine, tracing every curve of her body, every bone, every muscle, everything that made her who she was, until he could stand it no longer. “I have to see you,” he whispered into her mouth. “I have to know every inch of your body, memorize it, make it mine.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt as he spoke, sliding with tantalizing slowness up her hips.

Quinn wasn’t a man of delicate sensibilities. He wasn’t a lover who basked in sensation. He was a ruthless warrior who took what he needed and moved on before the situation could spiral, never staying present long enough to risk any kind of connection or bond. He was not a man who was fascinated with the play of light across a woman’s body, or the sensual curve of her mouth as she caught her lower lip with her teeth. He had never noticed the sinfully decadent sensation of a slow, erotic undressing.

Until now. Until Grace. Until this moment, when his world seemed to suddenly come to a screeching halt until there was only her, only him, only the sizzling electricity crackling between them.

Grace sat back on her hips and stretched her arms over her head, her gaze anchored to his. The look of sensual anticipation on her face made him groan as his gaze slid over the swell of her nipples barely visible through his T-shirt and down to the flat expanse of her belly. He was riveted by the tiny quivers in her belly as she waited for his touch. “That is the sexiest damn belly button I’ve ever seen.”

She let out her breath in a nervous giggle, and he bent his head and lightly kissed her navel. Her skin was still damp from the shower, dusted with the fragrance of fresh soap. Natural beauty, sinfully tempting, pure woman. His woman.
His woman.
He clasped her hips, holding her still as he kissed it again, swirling his tongue with a torturous slowness that made her shift restlessly. Then he hooked his thumbs under the hem of the shirt and dragged it upward, sliding it over her ribs.

He kissed his way along each rib, nipping lightly, sweeping his tongue across her skin. With each movement, with each kiss, Grace reacted. A sharp intake of breath. A light touch to his hair. A small noise of pleasure. The subtle shift of her hips to move closer to him. All signs that reached inside him and thrummed his desire higher and higher.

With tantalizing slowness, he slid his hands up her body, taking the shirt with him. Up her sides, along her ribs, to her shoulders. He caught her arms and continued his ascent along her triceps, sliding that cotton shirt up over her chest, his thumbs brushing against her nipples.

Quinn caught her surprised gasp with a kiss. The feel of her mouth under his unleashed a sudden fierceness he could barely contain, a desire to become the raw beast that history had made him, to take her, to make her his—

But he didn’t want that. Not this first time. Not with Grace. He pulled back, nearly undone by the heated look in her eyes, by the fullness of her lips, by the way she looked at him with such raw longing on her face. He knew he was seeing the real Grace, not the shield she tried to put up. Her vulnerability, her passion, her need for him was vivid and evident, and it was perfect. This was how he wanted her: true, raw, unguarded, for him alone.

He kissed her again, a slow, tantalizing kiss designed to seduce and tempt. Only when he felt her lean into him did he pause, pulling back just enough to slide her shirt over her head and inch it over her wrists, letting it drop from the tips of her fingers.

And there she was. For him. For only him. He pulled back from her, letting his gaze travel over her body. Over the elegant lines of her neck, the curve of her collar bone, the deep rose of her nipples, taut and ready for him. Tentatively, almost reverently, he cupped her breast with his hand, its petite curves like a gift in his palm. “You make me see beauty in places I never did before,” he said, his voice raw with uncertainty for this unfamiliar territory of sensuality and temptation. “You’re like all the sunshine and heavens I’ve missed, all brought to me in this one moment.”

“Quinn,” she whispered, her silver eyes softening.

He kissed her again as he moved onto his knees, edging her back until she was beneath him. He lowered himself onto her, groaning as her body shifted beneath him, as her legs parted to accommodate him. “What, sweetheart?”

“The way you look at me, makes me feel...” she hesitated.

He kissed her tenderly as his hands slid up her ribs and cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing lightly over her nipples. “Feel what?”

“Beautiful.”

He smiled at the awe in her voice. “You are.” Then he bent his head and kissed each breast. She arched her back with a soft moan, and he grazed his teeth over each nipple. Her body tightened beneath him, her hips moving restlessly.

He needed more. She needed more. So much more. Pressure built inside him, and he kissed her again, more aggressively this time. She grabbed onto his hair, diving into the kiss with desperate passion. He moved to her breast, nipping harder now, licking at the puckered peak, as he slid his hand down her hip under her shorts.

He hooked his hand around the back of her bare thigh, pulling it around his hip. She hooked her leg behind his back, and he shifted so he could reach her mouth again. The kiss was carnal and hot, deep and wet, taking control of them both. She writhed beneath him. Her hands were in his hair, on his shoulders, her nails digging in as she arched under him, her body calling to him as he moved his hand again, to her inner thigh, to skin so soft he felt like he’d been gifted with an angel in his arms.

The world began to swirl and his body pulsed at him, needing more, needing her. He crushed her with his kiss, losing himself in the taste of her, in the heat of her mouth as his hips pressed between her legs, his hardness driving against her, blocked only by his jeans and her boxers.

Unable to break the kiss, unwilling to tear his mouth away from hers, he shifted his weight and slid his hand beneath her shorts again, this time finding the heat that was hers, sinking deep into her. She gasped and her body shuddered beneath him, ready for him, so ready. Her knees fell apart as she twisted her feet around his legs, arching to meet him as he sank his fingers into her depths.

“Quinn.” Her voice was a soft moan of such pure hot desire that he forgot to think. Forgot to breathe. Forgot everything but the feel of her body everywhere he touched, the taste of her mouth, the delicate scent that was hers.

He rolled to the side for a split second, yanked off her boxers, ditched all his clothes, and then he was back. Gone was the slow seduction, the sensual build, the sinful temptation. All that was left was a fierce, dangerous, unyielding need for connection, for her, to bury himself so deeply that they would never recover.

He groaned as he lowered himself onto her, as the first feel of her belly against the raging heat of his erection roared through him. Hot energy suddenly leapt between them with violent force, so intense it felt as if it were burning through his soul like a violent electrical shock. He paused, his body rigid with the effort of not dropping his hips and plunging inside her, his nerves screaming from the pain of their metaphysical connection. “Grace?” He bit the question out, barely able to restrain himself. “Too much?”

“No, no, no.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she wrapped her legs around his hips, positioning herself beneath him. She lifted her hips to him. “Please, Quinn, don’t stop.” She grabbed onto him and kissed him, so hard, so deep. She dropped her hand between them and clasped his swollen member. “Now,” she whispered.

“Grace.”
The moment her hand closed on him, his control snapped, and he drove into her, so hard and so fast that their bodies smacked together with a crack that reverberated down to his soul.

Grace rose to meet him, her hips undulating as he pulled back and drove even deeper, and again, both of them moving and meeting, faster and faster, his need for her escalating, spinning around him, twisting around every cell in his body, every corner of his spirit until he was burning with such need, such desperation for her, his body coiling tighter and tighter until he knew it could take no more. He kissed her fiercely as he dropped his hand between them, finding her most sensitive spot as he drove into her again, as far as he could, reaching even deeper with his spirit, and his mind, letting her feel his desire, his desperation.

Their minds touched, and the true depths of her need for him hit him so hard his world shattered around him, sucking Grace with him into the vortex as it spun him ruthlessly, ripping his foundation, until all he could do was anchor his mind to Grace’s and hold her against him, promising her over and over again that he’d keep her safe.

He hoped his promise wouldn’t turn out to be a lie.

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