I
think he
actually considered answering me. As if he had that choice. As if either of us did.
I showed him that truth, deliberately and passionately, slanting my mouth to crush
the truth into him with every last inch of my lips. Sometimes, oxen had to be dragged
to water.
I was half a breath away—only to be forcibly jerked back. His hand, jammed into the
ends of my hair against my nape, stopped me like a pull cord on a doll. I didn’t resist.
The nip of pain was…exhilarating. The force of his strength, radiating across my scalp…even
better.
My breath clutched. My heart pumped to accommodate it, thumping between my breasts,
which sharpened, tingled, pulsed…so damn aware of how Syn stared at me now. Like he’d
never looked at me before. His eyes were a beast’s, sharp and all-seeing, not letting
me move or breathe without his alert assessment.
His lips parted again.
To release a burst of warm air down my neck.
Before plunging his lips against it.
Then his tongue, wet and thirsty. Then his teeth, hot and hungry. Then his lips again,
sucking in, abrading my skin, gnashing over my carotid, my ear, my jaw—back to my
lips, where he took over the kiss I’d begun, turning it completely into his own.
He shoved me open, pushing his mouth into mine, forcing my legs tighter around him.
The extra contact of our bodies was significant—and intense. Feelings, primal but
foreign, tore in. My skin sizzled. My body shuddered. I clung to his neck, moaning
from the magnificence of him straining…hardening…
everywhere
.
“By the Creator.” He rasped it between harsh breaths. His face lifted, revealing the
conflict across his beautiful features. “I have forced myself not to think of you
like this. Fought it so deeply, over and over again…”
“And I’ve thought of nothing else.”
His groan was so deep, it vibrated his body and mine. I gripped him tighter, a well-timed
action with his whoosh of motion, lowering me to the window seat. He followed me down,
securing my legs around him as he dropped to his knees. Through every motion, his
muscles flexed with sensual economy, as if he’d done this a thousand times before.
It made me wonder how many times he
had
done this before—but that right wasn’t mine. I’d asked him only for this, only for
now. Those were the terms I’d accepted, and I had to live with them—
No matter what impression I got otherwise, once our gazes met again.
Holy hell
.
I felt like the Rosetta Stone, the Regent diamond, and a gold double eagle melted
in one revered piece. The feeling intensified as he dipped his stare, roaming slowly
over me. His gaze was hypnotic blue glass. His nostrils flared slowly. His jaw visibly
clenched. His hands, now free, skated over my thighs, glided in at my waist, then
explored up and over my navy nylon workout shirt. Higher.
Higher
…
His palms cupped my breasts, possessive and determined.
I gasped from the heat, immediate and hot.
“Fuck.” He pinched in, feeling me getting erect even through my sports bra. “They
are…as exquisite as I imagined.”
I circled my hands back, pushing at the seat cushion, arching higher for him. “More.”
My throat clutched as he cocked both brows. I wondered if his other lovers had openly
demanded things from him. The thought stabbed me with insecurity, making me add a
whispered, “Please. More, Samsyn.
Please
.”
Maybe the begging was a good idea. It seemed to unhinge something inside him, turning
his growl bright and fierce, his stare raw and feral. And his touch…ohhh, that was
the best part of all. He turned bold—and brutal. I gasped from the stabs of erotic
pain, which made the world fall away even more. Gone were all the logistics, lists,
action plans, and other stresses from the day. Our world was only the lake’s reflected
waves, the moon’s watchful glow, and the joy of discovering each other in this stolen,
perfect bubble.
He pinched my breasts harder.
I cried out louder.
“Yes!” Arousal drenched my bloodstream. My muscles went to liquid. I was on fire…everywhere.
How many times had I watched those hands take down a sparring partner, masterfully
handle a sword, or even tie his damn shoes, only to imagine them on my body like this?
Exactly like this. Huge. Powerful. Arousing. Commanding.
Now…against my skin too.
In seconds, his fingers skated beneath my top then raked my waist and rib cage. He
pushed harder, dragging the material upward, before dictating, “Get this off. Your
bra, too. I will have you bare for me, woman. Now.”
I was grateful for my years of familiarity with workout clothes. In a minimum of motions,
I’d complied with his bidding. He stripped to the same degree too. We tossed aside
our shirts together, not caring where they went. Stares cemented to each other. Breaths
rasping the air. Chests rising and falling, mine so pale and translucent, his so burnished
and broad.
“By the fucking Creator.” His fingers scraped up my back—as he tilted my torso up.
“You are perfect.” He dipped his head, licking along my flesh before closing teeth
around the bud atop my right breast.
Agony. Ecstasy. Sinful, beautiful sensation
. My breath escaped on a strangle. My nipple hardened like a diamond, coaxed to a
more exquisite point by his damnably talented tongue. I dove a hand into his hair,
twisting the thick strands, giving in to more pleas…silent this time.
Don’t stop. Oh, please don’t stop.
By the time he moved to the other breast, electric ribbons of heat tangled through
my body, only to dissolve in the liquid fire between my legs. Air escaped me in irregular
shots. My shudders became full shivers, arousal pelting me like raindrops in a growing
storm. I splayed my other hand to his back, astounded by the ropes of muscle beneath
my fingers. I’d come into contact with a lot of fighters’ bodies over the last three
years. None of them felt like this. Samsyn Cimarron’s body belonged in another time,
an era in which men were so stunning, people believed in things like giants and satyrs
and demigods. The ripples tautened as he worked his lips over my flesh. He surged
over me, pushing back until my head pressed against the glass…and my legs gripped
him tighter.
“You…make me perfect,” I whispered. “And alive. And,”—I shrieked a little, as he bit
the side of my breast—“hot. Oh…so hot…Sams…”
He took the last of it from me with the new seal of his lips. Raised up in order to
plunge his tongue vertically, shifting one of his hands to grab my hair and yank my
head back. His other hand stroked up from my breast, stretched across my neck, then
braced my jaw, positioning me to keep taking his raw, carnal possession.
“Sweet starlight.” Half his face was now masked by shadow. Only his eyes remained
brilliant, irises like the night beams on the lake, telling me how high his own desire
had risen. “You make me hot, too.” He teethed my lips and chin. “You burn everything
away. You make it all…clean.”
I almost gave in to a laugh. The last thing I wanted to be right now, especially with
him, was clean. But the scorched honesty of his voice spoke to something deep within.
He wasn’t talking about literal cleanliness. It was a stain inside him, visible even
the night we first met, and had remained a shadow on his soul to this day. It faded
when he was around me, which always eased my ache about it, but the blemish never
quite went away.
What would it take to make it go away?
I moved my hands up. Framed the sides of his face. His skin was hot, even through
the thick stubble. “But not all of it,” I rasped, tracing his lips with a thumb. “Let
me in, Syn. Let me burn it
all
away.”
He went utterly still. Only for a moment. That was all it took to see straight through
to the truth I’d just struck—
Before he shoved it all away.
Jammed it down the same way he brought his hands down over mine. Swept it back, far
into his darkness, as he swung my arms over my head. Deeper still, as he pinned my
wrists to the window. Weighed it down like the cement block he turned himself into,
pushing down on me. I mewled, reveling in his masculine bulk. Wanting it. Spreading
wider as he twisted in, fitting his body harder against mine.
My cry exploded louder. I didn’t care if the villagers in Noir, on the lake’s opposite
shore, heard me. His erection pounded against every needy part of me, rousing my hottest
desire. Every inch of my intimate channel was soaked. If the dark spot in my workout
pants wasn’t enough evidence, my pointed nipples and puckered areolas definitely were.
He slanted over me again, shoulders curving in. Claimed my lips once more, twining
breath and teeth with lust and heat. His lower body moved with mounting friction.
My tunnel clenched even tighter for him. Ached for the ultimate fulfillment I needed
from him. I’d never been with anyone else like this—and about half the guys at the
Center had tried—knowing now that this was what I’d saved myself for.
Who
I’d saved myself for.
“
Astremé
.” His grate vibrated against my lips.
“
Samsyn
.”
“You want it to burn?”
“Yes. God,
yes
.”
A choppy breath tumbled from him. “But if I burn you…the way I long to…”
“The way you need to.” I jerked up my face, spearing him with my stare. “The way
I
need you to.” Curled my fingertips against his hold, trying to score him with my
nails—what there was of them. I was a child of the gym and the armory, not the salon
and spa. “Dammit, Syn. If this night is all we get—all
I
get—”
He cut me off with another kiss—but not before I watched my charge impact him like
a mortar shell, detonating his resistance.
Stubborn, beautiful ox
.
Beautiful was just the start.
Watching his desire take over his nobility was like witnessing a wave form on the
ocean. The visceral knowledge that deeper forces were at work. The awe of seeing them
grow, expand, surge free. The mix of dread and exhilaration, acknowledging their danger—and
acquiescing to it.
He pulled up, though kept me tethered with his gaze. Whatever he saw in my eyes changed
the tone of his, the cyan turning almost violet as his pupils flared. His lips worked
against each other, as if he were suddenly starving. He slipped his hand free from
my wrists, though his face conveyed the order not to move my hands. As if I’d even
contemplate it. Even wanted to cut one moment of this magic short. Every second had
to count…
He lowered his hands to my hips. Pushed back far enough to drag away my pants, both
legs at once. When they were at my knees, he rose and stepped aside, pulling the fabric
down the rest of the way.
He sucked a breath in.
I gasped one out.
He swung my legs over, stretching me along the window seat. Lowered his body the same
way, tangling our legs as he twisted my hair and pushed his tongue into my mouth.
We sucked at each other, hungry and fervent. We clutched at each other, urgent and
lusting. Everywhere I touched, he undulated and coiled. His skin was hot, though exploded
in shivers wherever my fingers glided. Though I’d just marveled at his power, he made
me feel like an equal force, every contact of our skin making him swallow and clench.
“Brooke.” He sent tingles down my neck with the feverish rasp. “By the fucking Creator,
Brooke…”
I clawed the back of his head, unwilling to let him up now. His stubble abraded my
collarbone. His mouth suckled the dip just above it. “Tell me.” It pitched into a
whimpering plea; once more I didn’t care. Was damn near grateful for the sound, vocalizing
how deeply I craved him. “Say it, Samsyn. Tell me…please.”
“I want this. I want
you
. Fuck…I shall damn near burst from it.”
“Not until you’re buried inside me.” I was ready with a smile when he yanked his head
up, stabbing a stunned stare in reaction. “Yes, that’s what I want too. What I’m bursting
with too.” I caressed my hand along his scalp, tugging his hair in rhythmic little
yanks. “I’m on birth control.” His widened eyes caused my subtle laugh. “A lot of
female athletes are. Lots of exercise messes with hormones.”
He grunted, clearly disconcerted about not knowing that. He didn’t hang on to the
awkwardness for long, though. My nudity was certainly a helpful distraction. I smiled
as he braced his weight on one hand, then slid down my body with the other. His eyes
followed the path of his touch, watchful…worshipful.
It astonished me.
Thrilled me.
Overjoyed me. Yes.
So much joy
…
I’d always thought if this moment ever came, I’d wilt beneath his first scrutiny.
My figure was built for utility, not sexuality. But every inch of me felt very sexual
now. And beautiful. A woman come to life, awakened and invigorated by his long, exploratory
strokes and adoring little squeezes. Syn didn’t miss an iota of my reaction, taking
in all my nuances before he quietly spoke again.
“But I am…your first?”
He wanted to make it a statement instead of a question. I could see that—but was damn
grateful he hadn’t. I needed to answer on my own. “I want you to be.”
His eyes squeezed shut. His lips compressed. But he nodded, solemn and committed,
bringing on the awkwardness anyway.
“Good God, Syn,” I snapped. “It’s my virginity, not the Holy Grail.”
He cocked a brow. “Want to wager which I treasure more?”
Incredible man. Aggravating bastard. “I know, I know. You don’t want to hurt me.”
“Oh, I
will
hurt you.”
I swallowed. Inexplicably turned on. “Then hurt me.”
“
Unnnhh
.”
The eruption wasn’t his choice. I pulled it from him by reaching down, then cupping
him…
there
.
My sigh joined his grunt. Both were sharp with amazement.
Fine. So I’d never done anything like this before. But limited experience didn’t equate
stunted knowledge. He was a magnificent man…everywhere. His erection pulsed beneath
my fingers, stretching them apart as I watched. I gawked while exploring him more,
roaming every inch of his pulsing groin. The rough texture of his cargo pants only
added to how distinctly masculine he felt, even to a girl who practically lived full-time
in a man’s world.