Guardian Angel (25 page)

Nicki used some of her Vegas connections to book them a honeymoon suite at the Grand, then she and Sean left the newlyweds alone for a little bonus honeymoon of their own.

––––––––

“S
top,” Kane commanded.  “Don’t move.”

Rebecca had been about to follow the bellboy into the suite when Kane’s words rang in her head.  She stilled immediately, feeling a little shiver of thrill at the authority in his voice.  No one’s voice had ever had that kind of effect on her.  Only his.  Only
her husband’s
.

“Why not?” she asked daringly, deliberately holding one foot just above the threshold, knowing the small act of defiance would bring dancing silver flames to his blue eyes. 

In one swift move he leaned over and swept her into his arms.  “Because tradition says I must carry you over the threshold.”

She laughed, her hands winding over broad shoulders to wrap about his neck.  “I thought that was only in a house.”

“It is wherever I intend to fulfill my marital obligations,” he rumbled huskily.  “So it will include the threshold of every hotel room, house, apartment, cabin, and various public establishments we enter in the next fifty years or so.”

His words had her arching in his arms, her body already aching for him.  The bellboy was just beginning his spiel when Kane seemed to realize he was still there. 

“Get out,” he barked at the young man, slipping a hundred dollar bill into his palm.  The bellboy had no further issues with making a quick exit, though whether it was the bark or the tip that did it was not clear.

Kane carried her to the large bed, setting her down gently.  “Wait here,” he told her with a wicked gleam in his eye.  “And don’t move.”

Rebecca reached for him, pouting at the sudden loss of contact, making him chuckle.  The deep, male sound sent a rush of warmth forward from her center.  And he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“Patience, sweetheart.”  He began to walk away, and her eyes raked over him hungrily.  Her husband was a fine man, indeed, and before the end of the night, she would finally know every inch of that hard, muscled body he guarded so selfishly. 

He stopped suddenly and turned to find her ogling him.  A slow, hungry smile spread over his face.  “And don’t even
think
about taking off any of your clothes,” he instructed silkily.  “Or I
will
spank you.”

A significant shiver went through her at his promise.  Well, that didn’t sound so bad...

“And I will make you wait another day,” he added with a wicked gleam in his eye. 

It was a bluff, surely, but Rebecca wasn’t willing to take the chance.  She fell back on the bed in pure frustration.  But she did not so much as remove the comb from her hair.  She was so afraid he would make good on his threat, she even scrambled off the bed in desperation for the shoe that inadvertently dropped off when he had placed her there, just in case he thought she had disobeyed him. 

When Kane emerged from the bathroom, he had removed his jacket, and loosened his tie as well as undid the first few buttons near the collar of his shirt.  His gait was a prowl, his eyes nothing less than ravenous as he drank her in.  Still fully clothed, she had poured a glass of champagne for each of them.

“How come you got to get started?” she pouted when he sat down on the bed next to her.  She wasted no time in placing her lips upon the slight bit of skin he had uncovered, licking along his collarbone.  The champagne was good, but her husband was
delicious
.  Kane groaned in response.

“Because,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I want the pleasure of undressing you myself.”

One large hand rested upon her thigh.  He let it trail downward slowly, as though memorizing the contours of her legs beneath the silky stockings; touching lightly behind her knee; caressing the curve of her calf; cuffing around her ankle before removing the small heels she wore.  Then he repeated the process on the other side.

When both shoes were off, he pulled both feet into his lap and began to massage them with slow, deliberate movements.

She moaned, throwing back her head as the pressure within her built with every stroke, every knead, every caress.  “Kane, as wonderful as that feels, do you think maybe we could come back to that later?”

He laughed.  “Impatient, Mrs. Callaghan?”

She rolled her eyes and moaned in ecstasy at the sound of that, not to mention the incredible skill of those strong hands.  “Yes....”

“You have waited this long.  Indulge me in my fantasy for a bit longer, won’t you?”

She opened her eyes. “This is your fantasy?  Massaging my feet?”

“No,” he smiled.  “Making love to you is.  Every part of you.  Slowly.  Thoroughly.  Completely.  So that you can think of nothing but me and what I am doing to you.”

Rebecca moaned.  And whimpered.  Maybe both.  And for the first time, she wasn’t sure she was going to survive her wedding night.

“Ah, but you will,” he promised when she voiced her growing concerns.  Her body was so hot she felt feverish; the need within her was growing steadily out of control.  Already she was shaking in anticipation, and he had barely done more than remove her shoes and rub her feet.

“I’m not good at this, Kane,” she gasped as her desire continued to grow far past anything she’d ever experienced.  “I can’t...”

“Yes, you can.”  He reached up beneath her dress and began peeling away her stockings with excruciating slowness, the pads of his fingers wreaking havoc with her central nervous system.  “And each time you think of our wedding night, the memories alone will make you come.”  His words, filled with smug arrogance and the husky way he growled them, had her shaking with anticipation. 

With the stockings gone, his hands left licking trails of fire on her flesh.  They moved up and down, stroking her with the pads of his fingertips, the backs of his knuckles, the rough callouses of his palms. 

* * *

“K
ane, please,” she begged when he finally brought his hands up to start undoing the front buttons that ran the length of her dress.

“I love it when you say my name,” he crooned, releasing the first button – with his teeth.  “Say it again.  Every time you say my name, I will relieve you of another button.”

“Kane,” she moaned, arching her chest toward his mouth in an attempt to hurry him along.  “Kane, Kane, Kane...”

“Ah, now that’s a penalty,” he said, nuzzling her breast through her dress.  “Time-out.”  Instead of moving to the next button, he let his tongue glide along the skin he had already revealed.

“Kane!” she cried.  “Please, take pity on me.”

“Pity?  No,” he breathed, letting the hot, moist heat roll over her fevered flesh.  “I have no pity for you, sweetheart.  Infinite love, yes.  Undying devotion, definitely.  Unquenchable lust, absolutely.  But pity?  Never.”

Kane pulled on her legs with a sudden, unexpected tug, flattening her back against the bed.  Then he was above her, straddling her legs to keep them in place as he continued the task of undoing the buttons.  For the time being, he allowed her the use of her hands.  They felt wonderful across his shoulders and biceps as she reached for him, eyes glazed with the same desire he felt coursing through his veins.

By the time he finished the last fastening, she was gasping for breath.  He parted both sides of the dress and stared down at her.  “So beautiful...” he murmured.  The scars still filled him with rage and a thirst for vengeance, but now they did something else, too.  They made him realize that everything she had gone through had prepared her for him by shaping her into who she was.  Kane could never have been happy with an unmarred, fragile woman.  To love him, a woman would have to be steel inside.  She would have to know pain, and death, and loss.  Because without those things, she would never be able to understand or love him.

“Enough,” he said, more to himself than to her.  With two quick swipes he tore the dainty little panties and matching bra wrapping her lovely body, exposing her fully to his hungry gaze. 

And then, a man possessed, his mouth was on her, devouring her.  Kissing.  Licking.  Biting. Sucking. He tended to every scar, every reminder of the suffering she had endured, with reverence.  He could not touch her enough, could not taste her enough.  When he forced himself to pull away, he was breathing every bit as heavily as she was.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom, where a sunken tub awaited.  Steam rose from the heated water, scented oils filled the space with a heady, musky fragrance.  Without regard for his slacks, he carried her down the steps until he could place her on the seat.  Only then did he climb back out and begin to remove his own clothes.

“Don’t I get to undress you?” she asked, her eyes nearly glowing as she watched.

“Next time,” he growled.  Christ, if she so much as touched him right now she would unman him.  That was
not
a memory he wanted of their first night together.

With that in mind, he spent the next twenty minutes washing her hair and her body.  He was thorough, paying attention to every sensuous detail.  But when he reached the area between her legs, he was extra attentive.  Each time he ran his fingers over her sex she sank her nails into his shoulders and ground her hips against him.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he crooned, but she was beyond listening to reason.  He had pushed her too far.  With unexpected strength she cleaved to his upper body and thrust herself against him. 

“Need...you...” she begged.  “Please...”

“Okay, baby, okay.”  His fingers stroked her, parted her as she opened her legs for him.  “Look at me, Rebecca.  I want to see your face when you come for me.”

One arm ensured her head remained above the water – she was nearly boneless now – as his other hand sought to give her the relief she so desperately needed. 

She was so wet; even in the hot, oiled water he could feel the heat roiling from her, feel her thick sweet juices spilling for him.  His thumb found a gentle rhythm against her sensitive nub while he allowed his middle finger to extend down and penetrate her.

Rebecca opened her mouth in a silent scream; her eyes sought and held his.  “Yes, baby.  That’s it.  Let it go, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Even with only one finger inside her he could feel how tight she was.  He swirled it around, stretching, preparing her for only a second before she arched up into him, screaming his name, clenching around his finger so tightly it throbbed. 

He held her tenderly through it, until she stopped shaking.  And when he looked at her, he knew he would remember that look forever. 

Mine
.

The thought of her coming like that with him inside her had him hardening to the point of physical pain.  But now he had to be even more careful.  He’d known she was a virgin; it was one of the primary reasons he insisted they be married before he took her.  But she was small and tight, and he was large and extremely aroused.  And if Kane knew anything about this night, it was that he would not hurt her.

He lifted her out of the bath and wrapped a fluffy towel around her.  “We’re not finished, are we?” she asked as he laid her in the bed.

“Finished?” he chuckled.  “Sweetheart, I will never be finished with you.”

He dried her as gently as he could; gentleness was not something that came naturally to him.  Then she took the towel and began to dry him as well.

“You’re bleeding,” she told him.  Her nails had dug gouges into the skin around his shoulders.

“Marked me then, have you?”  The very thought had him pratically roaring with satisfaction.

“I have.  But not nearly enough.”

Kane’s mouth found her breast.  He licked a slow path around the pretty pink nipple, then blew on it with a cold breath. He grinned at her, revealing the tiny ice cube he’d managed to slip into his mouth between his teeth.  Its purpose fulfilled, he crushed it mercilessly and licked her nipple yet again. It hardened instantly.  Then he took it between his teeth and nipped it, not enough to cause real pain, but enough to send little bolts of lightning to nearly every nerve in her body. 

Ah, she liked that.

Her fingers made lazy circles against his scalp, except when he nipped her again.  Then she grabbed fistfuls of it and tugged.  Her eyes were already half shut again; he doubted she even realized what she was doing.  But, damn, he liked it.

After paying proper homage to her neglected breast, he worked his way down her stomach and positioned himself between her legs.  Instinctively she bent her knees, then raised herself up on her elbows to watch him.

“That’s right, sweetheart.  Watch me kiss you.  Watch my lips make love to yours.”

Without breaking eye contact he gave her a long, slow lick.  She shuddered beneath him and groaned.  Another slow lick, then a few quick little flicks with his tongue.  A fresh wave of sweet cream rewarded him, making him groan with pleasure.  His wife was a damn delicious woman.

He played with her for a while that way, letting his hands stroke along the inside of her thigh until she was shaking with need again.  Then he took both hands and pressed her legs open wider, dipping his tongue deep down into her center. 

Her legs wrapped around him best they could; her hands pulled him closer to her.  After several quick penetrations he replaced his tongue with a finger, matching the rhythm with his tongue back on her clit.  She was sobbing now, begging him again for release, but he could not give it to her, not yet.  He had to be inside of her, soon, but he had to make her ready for him.  If he tried to take her now he would rend her in two.

So he eased off the pressure – just a little – and with some effort managed to work two fingers inside her, scissoring, stroking, curling at her inner wall.  Every time he felt her inner muscles starting to tighten he would back off until she was nearly wild with need.

Finally, when he could bear no more of her wrenching pleas without coming himself on the bed, he reached in and stroked her inside and outside at the same time.  Within seconds, she exploded around him.

“Not... going... to survive...” she wheezed when he finally worked his kisses back up the length of her body.