Authors: Christine Warren
Ella watched the building fire in his dark eyes and realized that as long as she could look into those eyes, his never-changing, always hypnotizing eyes, it didn’t matter if he looked like a man or a gargoyle or a Muppet. He was Kees, and she loved it.
He continued to smile, pressing the curve of his lips against hers in a closed-mouth, teasing caress. She felt the rasp of his chin against her as he trailed those lips across her cheek until they teased her ear and his voice whispered through her like another set of hands, these ones able to reach inside her and stroke her very heart.
“Also, I have a confession to make,” he murmured, teasing the shell of her ear with gentle nips. “In this form, I’m more sensitive. I can feel everywhere you touch me. I can feel your breath, your warmth, your smooth, soft skin.”
Another nip, this one less gentle.
“Your hot, silky pussy.”
Ella melted and gasped, wondering when all the oxygen had been sucked from the room.
“I am greedy, little human. I don’t want to sacrifice a single, glorious touch. With this body, I can wallow in sensation. With these hands, I can feel every last inch of you.”
He pulled back and grinned into her panting, wide-eyed face. “So, little human, do you still object that I shift my forms to make love to you?”
Ella offered a fervent denial and gripped the back of his neck in an attempt to draw him forward into the kiss she needed more than food and water.
He resisted, his hands sliding up and down her sides in teasing strokes. “Then you have nothing else to say, sweet girl?”
She nodded, and he raised an eyebrow.
“What do you need to say, Ella?”
“Touch me.”
* * *
As if Kees could do anything else.
He started with her lips, pressing his to the plump, rosy pillows, loving the way they immediately softened as they parted under his. He moved into her mouth slowly, confidently, accepting her instinctive offer of surrender. For every surrender she offered him, he wanted more. The urgency of his own need unsettled him, but he felt helpless against it. Having this woman had become more important than the rest of existence.
He touched her back next, pressed his hands against the long line of her spine and wondered at the idea that a body so small and fragile could contain a spirit so strong and resilient. Her bones felt like they would grind to powder if he so much as embraced her too tightly. Yet he remembered having her beneath him the last time, remembered how she had met every thrust, taken every thoughtless, passion-roughened caress and pleaded for more.
She amazed him, more and more every moment. He wanted to touch all that ferocity, all that strength, to wallow in it, to mark it and claim it and keep it beside him forever.
The thought made him shudder. How had he gotten to this point? He’d been made a warrior, summoned from the ether fully formed and fully trained, with no other purpose than to fight or die in defense of the human world, but he’d known from the very beginning that that world held no place for him. Guardians were not meant to mingle with humans, other than the Wardens who kept their secrets and aided in their mission. They were not meant to feel, to want, or to have.
Guardians, their stories told, had no hearts apart from rough-hewn stone. They felt no emotion, formed no bonds, took no mates. They did not breed to replenish their ranks. When one fell, another would be summoned from the ether. Like the carved images of gargoyles that decorated abbeys and castles in the Old World, the Guardians existed to drive off evil and nothing else.
So why did Kees now feel that touching Ella was the only purpose in his cold and solitary life? What was the stirring he felt in his chest every time he turned his gaze upon her? Why did he nearly give thanks that the Darkness was stirring once more, if only because he had woken and found her in his path? Was this what the humans called emotion?
Love?
“Kees.”
Her voice washed over him like a full-body caress. He loved the sound of his name on her lips. Especially when she struggled for sanity, overwhelmed with wanting.
Especially when her body clasped around him, hot and wet and feeling like heaven.
Abandoning his thoughts, Kees stroked his hands down and pulled the hem of her shirt up and away from her curving hips. He wanted no fabric between them. He needed to see her, to watch her skin turn rosy under his hands, his mouth.
She raised her arms over her head and helped him strip the garment off her. Her fingers went straight to her bra, releasing the clasp and shrugging out of the confining garment before letting it fall unheeded to the floor. Her eyes remained on his, her gaze heated but uncertain. He had caused that, he knew, with his coldness. He’d pushed her away until she couldn’t understand why he pulled her closer.
Regret filled him. He had never wanted to cause his little human pain. He had thought he had no choice but to pull back from her. He’d thought he needed to remain cold and alone, untouched and separate. Maybe he did, but even if that were true, he no longer had the strength to do it. She had robbed him of it with her sweet and stubborn and sassy nature. If Fate wanted to punish him, let Her. He would worry about that later.
Now, all he could think of was Ella.
He continued to watch her, holding her gaze with his even as his hands shifted to cup her breasts. The warm weights nestled against his palms as if they had been designed for his touch. Her pink nipples tightened the moment of contact and pressed into his skin in a silent plea for torment.
Kees gave it to her, first with his fingers, stroking and rolling and pinching the little peaks into ever harder points. Her breathing grew more and more ragged, faster and shallower until a moan broke from her lips and she raised her hands to cover his, tugging futilely.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Don’t tease. Give me more.”
How could he refuse?
She cried out when he abruptly stood, lifting her from him, as if she expected him to set her aside and walk away again. He could never do that. He was too far gone, but he knew he would have to prove it to Ella. Actions, after all, spoke louder than words.
Instead of pushing her away, something he intended never to do again, he lifted her easily by the hips and set her down atop the low coffee table. She shot him a look of surprised confusion, but said nothing, just stood there looking soft and vulnerable and filled with anticipation.
Kees liked that. He paused just to look at her. He would never get over the pale cream of her skin, the way it seemed to glow in the lamplight. It looked as soft as he knew it felt, like warm satin laid over soft flesh.
Trailing a finger down her throat, he felt it tighten as she swallowed, felt the soft whimper bubble up an instant before it broke from her lips. He continued his path downward, over her collarbone, down between her beautiful breasts, over her quivering belly until he hooked his finger in the waistband of her snug black trousers. Then he leaned forward, taking advantage of the added height standing on the table lent her to press his lips hard against her.
He plundered, savoring the taste of her, sweet and spicy and deeply rich, before he pulled back and smiled. “I want you bare, little human. Every pretty inch of you. Take these off for me.”
The flash of heat in her gaze was all he’d waited for. Dropping his hands to his sides, he stepped back and resumed his seat on the sofa.
She hesitated when he first pulled back, but he nodded in encouragement and settled in, parting his legs. When she looked down, she would see the hard bulge at the front of his jeans. He had no reason to hide it.
Ella nibbled her lip uncertainly, then released it to take a deep breath. Her thumbs hooked in her waistband, and she yanked the covering off with the quick, awkward motions of someone pulling off an adhesive bandage. A quick kick sent it sliding to the floor and left his little human totally, gloriously nude.
He’d never seen anything as seductive as her shy, inelegant striptease. He wondered if she knew that her courage and uncertainty made him a thousand times hotter than the most practiced teasing or the most intense come-hither glance. To know that she had deliberately exposed herself to him, showed him her vulnerabilities, made him want to simultaneously wrap her up in the safety of his embrace and throw her to the floor to claim her quickly and savagely. But for the moment, Kees had other plans.
He leaned forward just in time to catch her hands and stop them from covering herself. With her position atop the low table, the juncture of her thighs sat in perfect position just level with his hungry gaze. It made her look like an offering, and he knew of no way on earth to refuse.
Her voice shuddered out in a hoarse cry at the first brush of his lips on her sex. Kees leaned in and breathed deeply, taking in the warm, intoxicating scent of her as if he could imprint it on his memory. As if it weren’t already embedded there.
His hands gripped her thighs just above the knees and pulled gently. Uneasily, she shifted her feet, spreading her legs to give him access to the treasure he wanted most. The light glistened on her wet folds, partially exposed behind the tiny mat of neatly trimmed curls. The sight made his mouth go dry and thirst rise up, fierce and urgent, so he pressed his lips against her and drank.
Her folds parted against the intrusion of his tongue, and he lapped at her wetness, letting the hot, sweet liquid coat his tongue until he couldn’t hold back his groan of pleasure. She tasted like ambrosia, as thick and sweet as honey, as rich and tangy as the finest brandy. Her flavor both quenched his thirst and heightened it. The way her hips jerked when his tongue found her sensitive clit already peeking out of its protective hood made hunger dig its claws deep into his flesh.
Small hands settled on his head, combed through his hair and then fisted. The sting made him growl, urged him on like spurs to his side. His tongue stroked again and again, gathering up her cream and demanding more. It no longer satisfied him to make her tremble. He needed to hear her scream.
Long fingers pushed inside her, relished the tight clasp of her internal muscles. He gave her no time to catch her breath but began an immediate driving rhythm. He wanted her to climb fast and fall far.
He searched for her G-spot and worked it ruthlessly. When her legs gave out, no longer able to support her weight, he wrapped an arm around her hips to pin her in place. And still he feasted.
Her pleasure became his own. Every time he heard her gasp or whimper, every echoing cry and breathless plea shot heat straight to his cock. He felt his balls drawing up tight to his body and knew he had to get inside her soon. Now. Before he exploded.
But first, he needed to feel her come apart for him.
A third finger slid inside her, stretching her tight passage, making her hips jerk and her hands yank hard against his scalp. The pain only drove him on.
He pumped hard and fast inside her and showed her clit no mercy. His tongue circled and teased and flicked before he closed his lips about the bud and drew with a firm, intense suction.
Ella’s high-pitched scream made him feel like a god.
He worked her through the orgasm, his fingers stroking through her spasming internal muscles, marveling at the strength of her pleasure. His tongue rubbed firmly against her clit until she let out a whine that shivered through the air and pushed weakly against his shoulders.
“No more,” she panted, every beautiful inch of her shaking and glowing with perspiration. “Too much. Too sensitive.”
Reluctantly he lifted his head, licking the last traces of her from his lips and gazing up into her heavy-lidded eyes. He noted her flushed cheeks and the way the rosy color spread down her chest almost to her dusky-rose nipples. They were beginning to soften after her climax. Kees grunted. He liked them better firm and pointy with arousal.
Good thing he had no intention of letting her rest before he drove her right back up into mindless need.
His arm around her waist dragged her forward as he shifted back to settle deeper into the couch. Her body followed naturally, limp and boneless from pleasure and settled back into position on his lap, her thighs spread wide by his, her knees hugging his hips.
One hand rose to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her silky brown hair, as soft and sleek as mink. He used the grip to drag her mouth down to his, consuming her with a kiss filled with gnawing hunger.
His cock throbbed in the prison of his human clothing until he could no longer stand it. The clothes that he had materialized with his shift disappeared just as quickly, melting away with a thought. Even if Guardians couldn’t cast spells like Wardens, being made of magic still had its benefits.
Ella gasped and squirmed in his lap, aware of the sudden press of his thick erection against the soft pillow of her belly. He loved the way her body seemed to curve just where he craved softness, and he pressed up, grinding himself against her. The sensation made him groan deep in his throat. He fed her the sound, his tongue tangled with hers, and heard her echo it in her own softer tones.
She pulled away from him and gasped hard, as if she couldn’t draw in enough air. Her hands came up to his shoulders and pushed weakly even as she tried to arch away.
“Wait. Wait. I can’t—”
“And I need, little human. Now.”
A cry broke on her lips, sweet and shaking, but her body melted against him. She would deny him nothing. Her generosity only fueled his craving for her.
Her hands slid from the front of his shoulders to the back and drew him against her. Kees gave a rumbling purr of satisfaction and pressed grateful lips to first one nipple, then the other, drawing each into his mouth for a reverent moment before he caught her gaze and held it.
A hand at her hip urged her to rise. She did so instantly, gracefully, though her thighs trembled as if she didn’t know how long they could support her. She wouldn’t need to worry for long.
With his free hand, Kees reached between them and took his cock in his fist, guiding it to her entrance. Then, eyes still locked with hers, he pulled her down to him, impaling her on the thick shaft.