Hecate's Own: Heart's Desire, Book 2 (22 page)

“I didn’t. And neither did you.” He said it in such a way
that I knew we were done with this topic. I hated how he’d been hurt because of
me, but he considered it worthwhile because I was alive.

I pulled him against me so his bare skin touched mine and
neither of our scars was showing. For a moment I just wanted to hold him close
and feel him breathe with me the way we used to when we slept in the same bed
night after night. I’d missed the sex, absolutely. But I’d missed
him
more. His warm skin, his scent, the cadence of his breathing. Every tiny fiber
that made him Desmond was something I had craved like oxygen since he’d left.

Finally, when I thought I might break down and cry from the
overwhelming emotion of what being near him was doing to me, I bit his earlobe
and whispered, “Take off your pants.”

He was up in a heartbeat, kicking off his work pants and
socks, which made me chuckle warmly. He pinned me with a warning expression.
“You won’t be laughing long.”

Biting my lip, I fought the urge to tease him more, but with
him looming over me it was almost impossible to find anything to laugh at. His
skin was olive over the perfectly toned planes of his body. His legs and arms
were corded with muscle, and his abs might as well come with a
Lick Me
sign
attached to them. The dark hair over his chest formed a thin trail down his
stomach, begging my eyes to follow from his bellybutton to the low waist of his
black boxer briefs. The cotton on his underwear was straining dramatically, and
I got wetter just looking at him.

My mouth was dry and my tongue thick. I couldn’t have made
fun of him if I wanted to. I didn’t want to. The only desire left in me was to
have him inside me in every way imaginable, as fast as possible.

“Get up,” he said.

I did without hesitation. I thought he might take me on the
coffee table, it felt sturdy enough, but he had a different idea in mind. Once
I was standing, he lifted me right off the floor and slung me over his shoulder
in a fireman’s carry. Instead of being surprised—after all, he’d done this to
me before—I took advantage of my position by slipping my hands into his
underwear and giving his ass a squeeze while running my tongue along the
beautiful toned V on his lower back above the waistband of his boxers. Before
my tongue was allowed to explore anything farther south I was in the air and
tumbling backwards. I landed on a soft down duvet and he was on top of me,
giving me no time to have a look around his dark bedroom.

His natural scent was mingled with something headier now, a
musk I recognized as desire. Instead of giving any more instructions or
speaking at all, he removed my panties without hesitation and undid my bra with
one looped finger, tossing both aside in turn. When he knelt over me, I slid
his own underwear off, leaving him bare and hard in front of me.

My mouth wasn’t dry anymore.

Closing my lips over the head of his cock, I lowered my head
with aching slowness, savoring every moment. I’d never thought I’d be able to
taste him again, and I wanted to remember every second of it. My tongue
caressed each curve and hollow, circling his head as I withdrew, holding
suction until the end.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “I thought you didn’t want to kill
me.”

I cast my eyes upwards, watching him as I lowered my head
again. This time he seized my hair roughly and pulled my mouth out of reach. He
couldn’t stop my hands though, and one palm cupped his balls while the other
wrapped around his rigid shaft, which was still damp from my saliva. His mouth
formed a thin line.

“You’re asking for trouble,” he warned.

“Then stop me,” I replied, squeezing his balls with gentle
pressure.

“Turn over.” He growled the words and flipped me onto my
hands and knees before I had time to comply with his instructions on my own. He
placed a palm between my shoulders and gave a commanding push. I put my arms
under the pillows and dropped so my upper body was pressed flush against the
comforter.

My hair clung to my face from the sweat beading on my skin,
so I couldn’t see him, just felt his hands grasp my hips and tug them higher
until my ass was snug against his pelvis, the hard length of him nestled
between my cheeks. I let out a shaky breath as he traced a path down my back
and then up to my neck again. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and twisted it
around his wrist, jerking my head up so I was looking over my shoulder at him.

With his other hand he guided himself to my opening, and the
head of his cock slipped in easily. It had been long enough without him inside
me that the size of him felt surprising. Even as wet as I was I gasped when he
thrust inside me all the way on the first stroke. One hand held my head in
place, and he watched me carefully as he drove into me again, waiting for me to
tell him to stop or give him any instruction whatsoever.

A shudder of pleasure vibrated through me, making me tighten
around him, and his eyes closed reflexively. I was usually the one taking
charge in bed, but tonight he was claiming me, and I wanted to let him. He
released my hair, but I kept watching him. Grabbing my hips with both hands
now, he pounded into me like he was taking my challenge seriously. Whatever
part of me had been marked by Lucas, Desmond was trying to fuck it out of me.