Authors: Sarah McCarty
“Very nice.”
“Do it again,” she whispered.
He did, again and again. She twisted against him, trying to get more of that sensation. He gave it to her in a light pinch, holding it for a little bit longer the next time, giving her a little more pressure, a little more persuasion. He wanted that wild woman in her to come out. He wanted the same honesty from her that she wanted from him. When she moaned, he smiled. Her nails dug into the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Her mouth opened wider, inviting him deeper.
“God, Fei, I’ve got to have you.”
“You’ve got me.”
Yes, he did. In his arms, in his life, and now in his bed. He scooped her up. She had him too hot. If he came at her like this, he’d hurt her. He straightened and tilted his head back, sucking in long drafts of air. It carried the scent of her skin, the beauty of the night, the promise of her passion.
“Give me a minute, Fei.”
She didn’t even give him a second. Kissing her way down his chest, she sprinkled random little kisses that fractured his control. She had no idea what she was doing to him, couldn’t know. Son of a bitch, he was on fire.
With fingers that shook, he spread the lapels of her tunic, forcing himself to be gentle. Her delicate breasts, tipped with those luscious nipples strained for attention. He skimmed the outside of her right breast, tracing the circumference, resting its weight in his palm, cupping it from underneath, plumping it up just that little bit as he leaned in.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed above his head.
He smiled. There was a lot to be said for having an honest woman who wanted it all. He flicked the hard nub with his tongue, centering her attention before taking her into his mouth. She squirmed and wiggled. He sucked and nibbled. When she arched, he took more, increasing the pressure, the suction, until she cried out and held him to her. Goddamn, she was sweet. He smacked her ass lightly, smiling as she writhed. His passionate wife. Kissing her nipple one last time, he whispered, “You’re beautiful, Fei.”
Switching positions, he lowered them both until she was cradled in his lap. Working his hand lower, between her legs, he cupped the heat of her pussy, coating his finger with her juices, searching with his middle finger until he found the well of her vagina.
Virgin.
He had to be careful. Go slowly. He pressed lightly.
She froze, barely breathing as he teased the tempting hollow.
“It’s all right. This will feel just as good.”
“Shadow?”
She was afraid. He didn’t want her afraid. He wanted her wild again. He rubbed her clit with his thumb. Just a little. Very little, but enough that she felt it. When she was quivering and arching up, he pressed his finger in, taking her that first little bit. She shook under the shock. Her pussy flexed against his palm. She quivered under the next pass of his thumb. So delicate, so fine, so eager. Another circle of his thumb. Another press of his finger. A little deeper. A little faster. Her fingers dug into his forearm as she pushed up, every muscle, every sense, attuned, waiting for the next pass, the next press. He gave it to her in a firmer stroke.
“Come for me, Fei.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
He started over, light to hard, waiting until she started to squirm and arch up, showing him that she was ready for more, begging. And he gave it to her. Harder. Faster. Always being aware of her pleasure, her need. It was all about her tonight. Even if it killed him, it was going to be all about her. He could feel the hardness of her nipples poking into his chest. Hear her gasps of pleasure and anticipation. He could see the anticipatory flex of her muscles as she awaited what he would do next. She was ready. More than ready.
Sliding his fingers between her buttocks, he grazed the rosebud beneath. Just a little touch. Just enough to tease them both.
Jerking up, she gasped, “I do not think—”
“You don’t need to think. Just feel.” He swirled his finger back through her thick juices, finding her clit and pinching it lightly.
She slumped across his lap, in total surrender. His to do with as he willed. He eased his hand farther down.
“Spread your legs, honey.”
It took her a second, but she did, exposing herself gradually. She wasn’t sure of this, but she trusted him.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to build this fire a little bit more.”
Shaking her head, she gasped, “I do not think I can take any more.”
She definitely needed more. He wanted her to come. “You can.”
Her juices were creamy against his finger, her scent a light spice in the air. He found her clit easily. Hard and distended, it begged for his touch. He rubbed it gently, very gently, easing her back into the sensation, letting the pleasure build gradually, letting her make it happen for herself in the slow pulses of her hips, learning her rhythm as she learned it.
“Shadow…”
“It’s all right. Don’t fight it. Let me make you feel good.” He added a bit more pressure. She cried out and shook, every muscle going stiff as the pleasure crested. “That’s it, just like that. Come for me, Fei. Just for me.”
He needed to feel it happen the first time. If not around his cock, then the next best thing. Keeping the pressure on her clit, he add a second finger. Going farther, taking more.
She came hard, his name on her lips, her fingers digging into his arm, her thighs clenched around his hand, holding him to her with everything she had. He milked her clit, milked her climax, his own pleasure threatening to erupt as she sighed his name one last time.
Turning her toward him, he lifted her up, cradling her against his chest, kissing her cheek, her chin, her nose, not wanting her alone in that moment, that first time.
“Mine.” The claim whispered from his soul, oblivious to their pact, uncaring of the obstacles between them.
Fei clung to his neck, her tears wetting his chest, her nails pressed into his nape as tiny quivers rippled under her skin. “Yes.”
Shit, she shouldn’t say things like that to him. He wasn’t one of her civilized men. He thought in terms of possession. Of control. And everything in him wanted to keep her. Regardless of the consequences. Cupping her breast in his hand, Shadow kept kissing her softly until she finally relaxed against him.
Mine.
This time he was the only one who heard.
F
IFTEEN
MINUTES
LATER
,
Fei started to cry. Big fat tears that were prefaced by a near-silent hiccup. When she started to inch away, Shadow almost let her, but as the space between them increased, the dissatisfaction inside him expanded, too. A whisper of a memory came to him then, of being young and hurt, of standing in the dark, afraid to cry for fear of another blow, afraid to remain silent in case this time was the one in which comfort would be offered. He hated those memories, hated to be reminded of how weak he’d been. But what he hated more was seeing Fei wrestle with the same uncertainty.
“Do you want me to try to wake Lin?”
Fei froze, her tunic in her hand. “No.”
Another hiccup.
Shit.
“I will be all right.”
He knew that lie. How easily people believed it. How easy it was to let people believe it.
I want the real you.
The hell with that. He’d rather give her the man she saw when she looked at him. Reaching out, he cupped her shoulder in his hand. She stiffened beneath his touch.
“Fei?”
She didn’t turn.
He didn’t know what to say. They sat for a minute, connected yet distant. Her next sob vibrated down his arm.
To hell with it.
With a tug, he tumbled her back to his side. Her hair snagged over his shoulder, tangling with his. She lay there gripping her tunic as he propped himself over her, staring past his shoulder, her composure as fragile as their connection.
He didn’t know what to say any more now than he had a minute before. Drawing the backs of his fingers down her cheek, he wiped away the tears. “I’m sorry.”
She took a quavery breath and closed her eyes. “It is not your fault.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but I’m still sorry.”
“For what are you sorry?”
She opened her eyes. The pain in their tear-drenched depths made him want to go out and kill something. Taking her hand in his, he worked her fingers free of the tunic and brought them to his shoulder. “For whatever’s making you hurt.”
“Damn you.” Yanking her hand free of his, she thumped him on the chest, saying something in Chinese he’d bet his last dollar was a curse. “I was in control—”
Catching her fist in his, he tucked it against his chest while pulling her close. “That kind of control you don’t need around me.”
She sniffed and shook her head against his chest. “The bargain was just for this night.”
She felt so small in his arms, so delicate. So right.
The next sob shook her from head to toe. Her palm opened against his chest. Pressed. His senses flared, absorbing the heat of her touch “Do not let me do this, Shadow.”
“Do what?”
Her hands crept up around his neck, clung. “Be weak with you.”
“You’re not weak, Fei, you’re just hurting.”
“He was my father.” Another sob, less contained, punctuated the sentence.
Brushing the hair away from her face, Shadow caught the next tear on the edge of his index finger. “And you loved him.”
“Yes, even at the end.”
He kissed her then. Softly, gently, the way he hadn’t been able to earlier. “Then cry for him.”
“It is not fair to you.”
Cupping the back of her skull in his hand he pulled her closer, wanting to pull her so close nothing could ever touch her again. “Let me decide what’s fair.”
She shook her head. “You wanted passion.”
“Maybe I lied.”
Her nails dug into his neck and her entire body went still. “I lied, too.”
Whatever she’d lied about it was tearing her up. “How?”
“I told my father the emperor had found him. That his soldiers were hunting him. If I had simply locked him in he might have tried to escape, but in his mind he was so afraid of the emperor’s soldiers he stayed where I put him.”
“Fei…”
“It is my fault.”