The Witch of Stonecliff (17 page)

She tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Her mouth had dried. “Why else?”

“Why else, indeed.” He lifted his long-suffering gaze to the ceiling, then met her stare. “I stopped kissing you because a psychopath tried to strangle you last night. As for whether I want you or not.” He snatched up her hand and pressed her palm to the bulge in his jeans. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?”

Tiny flutters tickled low and deep inside her. He wanted her. Maybe as badly as she did him.

He released her hand, but she didn’t let her arm fall to her side. Instead, she slid her fingers along the rough fabric of his jeans, tracing the long, thick outline of his erection. His eyes flared and he drew in a sharp hiss between his teeth. A primal thrill swept through her, powerful and feminine.

He
wanted
her.

“I don’t want to stop. I want you.”

“Thank God,” he muttered, before his mouth caught hers and he dragged her against him.

Her senses shot to life, they filled with him. His touch, his scent, his taste. He crowded every corner of her mind. Hunger gnawed low in her belly, mindless and desperate for the feel of him.

His lips pressed kisses along her jaw, teeth nipped at her ear before he whispered, “Go upstairs and wait for me. I need to fetch something from the car.”

She blinked through the haze that clouded her mind. He needed something from the car? Now?

“Protection,” he told her, as if reading her mind. He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, of course.” Thank God one of them thought of it.

While Kyle slipped out the front door, she started up to his bedroom. Now that he’d gone, without his mouth or hands distracting her, the enormity of what about was about to happen set in.

She was going to have sex with this man, whom she barely knew.

So what? People did it all the time. But not her. She’d only ever been with one other man. Kyle, as good looking as he was, no doubt had far more experience than she. What if he could tell? What if he didn’t like what she did? He might want her now, but that could change by the time they finished.

Maybe she should put a stop to this. Go home and pretend it never happened. Save her and Kyle the embarrassment.

No. Tomorrow Harding could arrive to cart her away to prison. She would have this. She would have him—if nothing else.

Chapter Thirteen

Kyle found a box of condoms in the glove box, tucked behind his ownership, forgotten gum wrappers and a road map he’d never used. He stared down at the glossy package, the silhouetted couple embracing. This box belonged to another life, another man. A dead man.

Kyle pushed the morbid thoughts to the back of his brain. After all, he had more pressing matters at hand. A woman waiting for him who he wanted like no one he could remember.

Her soft sighs, her hesitant touch, lit a hunger inside him he hadn’t experienced in years. Maybe never. He couldn’t remember being so acutely aware of a woman before. Her every trembling breath, the powdery scent clinging to her soft skin, her slight frame beneath the loose fabric of her clothes.

His blood heated and he slammed the car door closed.

Eleri stared down at his unmade bed, arms wrapped around her middle. Disappointment squeezed tight inside him and his balls ached.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

She swung around to face him, hurt clouding her dark eyes. “You’ve changed your mind?”

Hell, no. There was nothing he wanted more than to peel her out of that baggy sweater, those loose pants and get a look at the slender body hidden beneath, but he could hardly make a move with her looking like the last virgin in a brothel.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I want this.”

A voice whispered in the back of his brain. He shouldn’t. Sex with Eleri James was a mistake. She had one foot in a prison cell. His half-baked investigation had painted a target on them both. Sex would only complicate things.

And he didn’t care.

He closed the distance between them, tossed condoms onto the nightstand and cupped both sides of her face, claiming her mouth with his.

She melted into him, lips parting, allowing his tongue access. Her sweet flavor fed his building hunger. He wanted more. To fill his hands with her flesh. To taste her skin. Shifting back, he gripped the hem of her sweater, tugged it over her head and tossed it aside. A soft gasp whispered from her lips, but he barely noticed. His gaze fastened to the gentle slope of her shoulders, the swell of her breasts against her plain cotton bra, narrow hips, flat stomach. Her ivory skin was flawless.

“My God, Eleri,” he murmured. “You’re lovely.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Thank you.”

He
should be the one thanking her. He traced a finger along her collarbone, skin feather-soft, despite the trail of goose bumps following in his wake.

“I want to taste you.” All he could think about was running his tongue along her satiny flesh. He traced the swell of her breast. She gasped, started. His gaze shot to her face, but her attention was on his hand while her teeth tugged at her lower lip. He pulled the fabric of her bra beneath her breast, revealing the small plump mound, the pale tight nipple. His mouth watered.

He dropped to his knees, gripped her sides to hold her in place and fastened his mouth to her breast. A low groan tore from his throat. God, she tasted so good.

Her fingers threaded his hair. A sharp sting burned across his scalp, the sensation not unpleasant. Kyle looked up into her face. Her dark eyes were wide, her expression uneasy.

Shit
. He released breast, eased back. “I’ll stop. If you want me to.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to stop, but I wish you’d quit asking.”

He might not be so compelled to check if she didn’t look so uncertain, nervous, as if she’d never…

His eyes widened. Surely, it wasn’t possible. She was almost thirty years old.

And surrounded by rumors she murdered men.

“Have you—” he hesitated, searching for the right words, settling on “—done this before?”

Her eyes narrowed. Pink flush tinged face. “Of course I have,” she snapped. “I’m not some thirty-year-old virgin.”

“Right.” And if he could have chosen a worse moment to ask her, he couldn’t think of it. “Sorry.”

Without taking his gaze from hers, he tucked her bra beneath her other breast. Her breath caught. Her eyes darkened.

Uncertain she might be, but she wanted this, wanted him and he was only too happy to oblige.

* * *

Kyle’s mouth closed around her breast, and Eleri’s knees nearly buckled. She grabbed on to his shoulders, managing to steady herself before crumpling to the floor. Lips sucked and teeth tugged at her turgid nipple only to be soothed again by his tongue. Need flamed through her limbs, licking at her frayed nerve endings. She could almost forget that embarrassing exchange.He’d known. Something she’d done or more likely hadn’t done had given away her lack of experience.

She closed her eyes, let her head fall back and pushed her troubled thoughts aside, focusing on the tiny trills coursing through her, the steady pounding low in her core.

Kyle’s hands slid over her ribs, leaving trails of shivery heat. Her breath quickened. Clever fingers traced her hip then pulled at the button fastening her trousers. She tried not to stiffen, not to behave in any way that might imply she didn’t do this sort of thing all the time. Then her trousers were gone, nothing more than a pile of dull gray fabric around her ankles, and she was standing before him in only her panties. Even her bra had been pulled back leaving her breasts visible.

She’d never been so exposed, so naked in front of anyone before. Even with Griffin, it had been dark, their meetings fast and secret, never leaving them the opportunity to completely undress.

Kyle ran his hands down her legs. “What could you be thinking hiding this.”

Despite the strangeness of it all, his words sent a thrill trickling over her. She felt attractive, sexy, even, and it had been so long since she had.

He slid his hands up her legs, thumbs trailing the inside of her thighs then grazing the cleft between her legs. Her hips jerked, sensation jolting her system. A whimper escaped her lips.

Kyle smiled slow and predatorily.

“You’re wet.” His raspy voice prickled her skin, but before she could respond his mouth closed over her core. Even through her panties, his hot breath and probing tongue nearly sent her over the edge. Need spiraled tight inside her like a coil ready to snap. She moaned, grasping his hair to keep him close. If his previous observation pleased him, he must be absolutely thrilled by the flood of wet heat surging between her legs.

Kyle grasped her underwear at the hips and tugged the fabric away. She tensed, waiting, eager for him to continue his onslaught. Instead, he eased back and stood. Disappointment swirled inside her. Had she done something wrong?

“Lie back on the bed,” he said, tugging his T-shirt over his head.

Maybe she should have taken his clothes off him. Maybe she should help him now. She didn’t have clue, so she lay back on his bed, sinking into his covers. Besides, he seemed to be doing fine on his own.

Shirt gone, his chest was bare, giving her a first look at him. He was all lean, sinewy muscle. He yanked his jeans from his narrow hips, shimmying out of them and his boxers at the same time.

Instantly, her gaze shot to his penis.
For God sake, don’t stare. He’ll think you’re a pervert
. But she couldn’t help herself. His erection stood long and thick from a thatch of brown hair. A mix of excitement and apprehension welled inside her.

He crawled over the bed, over her. His length was suspended inches above her body. Heat radiated from his skin as he settled over her, fitting his hips between her legs. His body was hot silk over steel. The tip of his penis nudged her opening.

She arched up, desperate to have him inside her. He grasped her hips, holding her to the mattress.

“Soon,” Kyle murmured, and pressed his mouth briefly to hers. “But I want to taste you when you come first.”

His mouth left a hot, wet trail between her breasts over her belly. Every muscle in her body tensed. Her fingers curled into the covers.

She’d never done this. Not with Griff. Not with anyone. In a sense, when it came to this sort of intimacy she was the virgin Kyle accused her of.

Please don’t let him notice.

Please don’t let him stop.

His tongue crested her opening, and she nearly shot off the bed. She grasped his hair, desperate for something to anchor her. He grunted softly then his mouth closed over her and any trace of coherent thought fled. She was lost, swept away in a torrent of sensation.

He sucked and lapped, tongue probing. She whimpered, hips undulating as if of their own accord. Delicious tension stretched inside her, swelling, pulling until she finally shattered, broke, flew apart in a thousand different directions.

Kyle’s mouth drove her on, through her orgasm, teasing, tasting as the aftershocks rippled through her. Finally he lifted his head and shot her a smug grin.

Eleri couldn’t work up the energy for a reaction. Every muscle inside her had turned to hot wax. Besides, he had every right to look smug. No one had ever made her feel like that before.

Vaguely, the crinkle of plastic reached her ears, and seconds later Kyle stretched over her. His mouth catching hers, hungry and demanding, her own tangy flavor on his lips. Renewed heat flared in the pit of her belly. Good Lord, how had he managed to reawaken her need so quickly?

His hips nudged her legs wider, erection grazing her sensitized cleft. She moaned, grasping his backside and urging him on. He pushed deep, filling her. A low groan rumbled in his chest, mingling with her soft gasp. He was inside her, wrapped around her, consuming her. She lost track of where she ended and he began.

He started to move, slowly at first. Thin ribbons of pleasure rippled through her. His pace increased, his hand sliding under to grasp her backside, kneading her flesh as he pushed deeper, harder. Then she was lost in a frantic, primal pace. She was aware of little more than his warm flesh pressed against her, the slap of their bodies coming together and the exquisite tightening at her core.

She shattered a second time like fine crystal against jagged stone. Kyle groaned, pushed deep and stiffened. His body trembled until he finally collapsed on top of her.

They lay together for a long time, their breathing ragged, their hearts slamming against their chests. Finally, Kyle lifted his head and stared down at her. Those light green eyes almost glowed in the low light, his expression impossible to read.

“What’s wrong?” Oh, God, had she been lousy? Was he looking for a way to get her out of his bed? The pleasant, languid sensation wrapped around her vanished.

He grinned and swept a lecherous look down at her body before kissing her. “Nothing, believe me.”

The humor in his tone brought a smile to her own lips, emboldened her. She pressed her mouth to his, playing the role of aggressor for the first time, and he let her. When she nipped at his lips, he parted them, allowing her tongue to sweep inside his mouth and explore. She traced a finger over his chest, followed the ridges of his stomach muscles, over his hip…

He sucked in a breath and jerked back, mouth curling into a smile. “My God, you could tempt a saint. Unfortunately, there’s something pressing I need to take care of.”

He eased away from her and stood before padding to the door, probably to be rid of the condom. She propped up on her elbows admiring his broad shoulders and firm backside until he disappeared down the hall.

What was happening to her? She collapsed back into the pillows. One sexual encounter and she was behaving like some sex-starved nymphet. Was it any wonder? It had been almost ten years since a man had touched her, looked at her with anything besides fear.

She’d missed physical contact, and not just sex, any contact. Hell, even eye contact was a refreshing change. Still, as pleasant as all of this had been, she couldn’t confuse it for something it wasn’t.

Other books

The Oblate's Confession by William Peak
Murder Under the Italian Moon by Maria Grazia Swan
My Lost and Found Life by Melodie Bowsher
Complications by Emilia Winters
The Flight of the Iguana by David Quammen
Z14 (Zombie Rules) by Achord, David
Playing with Matches by Brian Katcher
Night Game by Alison Gordon
The Seven Dials Mystery by Agatha Christie