He arched his back and kissed lower. Her collarbone. His beard pricked her sensitive skin. When he moved lower still, she almost complained, but his mouth was still on her, his breath still hot as he kissed and licked and nipped her.
His hand cupped a breast, and his mouth covered her nipple. She felt him flick it with his tongue, then roll it between his teeth. Shivers raised gooseflesh all over her body.
She looked at him as she forked her fingers into his dark, silky hair. He lifted his face, meeting her eyes. God, she loved this man. He lowered his head to her body, kissing just below her breast, then moving his mouth down her ribs. When he reached the skin just above her navel, it sort of tickled. She sucked in her breath. He smiled and bit her skin. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t utter an intelligible word, so she clamped down on her lip instead.
He moved lower, swirling his tongue around her belly button. Fiona braced herself on her elbows, fascinated at the feel of his face and lips and tongue as he went down her body. He kissed one hip, then opened his mouth and gently clamped down on her hipbone.
And then he was there. Between her legs. Dear God, the feeling of him spreading her legs, opening her for the stroke of his tongue. Fiona gasped at the soft, wet feel of him licking her.
“Kelan—”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I like that. A lot.”
He looked up at her and grinned, his big white teeth glowing in the soft light from the window. “Good. Because I intend to do this a lot.”
He eased his arms under her legs. One of his powerful hands rested against the soft flesh of her lower belly while his other reached up and fondled her breast.
Fiona settled back against the bed and gave herself over to the crazy sensations his tongue sent through her body. He mouthed her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth over it. He went lower, penetrating her. His thumb touched her clit. She felt a flood of heat and moisture. Her breathing was coming in ever faster and shallower gasps.
He owned her body. It responded to him as if he was its master, not she. Her legs were draped over his shoulders. She braced her heels against the bed, on either side of his ribs. Heat carried her straight into waves of release so fierce she cried out. His arms tightened on her. He kept his face there, riding her passion, teasing, touching, tasting.
When the storm eased a little, he straightened, pushed his briefs down. His erection was heavy and pointed toward her. She pulled a long, hissed breath. He kicked free of his briefs, holding himself, easing his hand back and forth over the wide crown of his penis.
And then he leaned over her, fitting himself to her. She spread her legs as she felt the tip enter her. Kelan held his weight on one straight arm. His free hand gripped her hip, holding her, positioning her as he eased inside, deeper, deeper.
She was wet, from his mouth, from her orgasm. The deeper he went, the more he stretched her. It was the most amazing sensation, but then, so was everything he did to her. When he was fully inside her, he lowered himself down to her body, then spread his legs and began pumping himself in and out of her.
She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his hips. His body, moving over and in hers, made her feel incredibly alive. No. Not alive. Infinite.
When she started to move against him, meeting his thrusts, he lifted his head and grinned at her. “Come for me, Mahasani. Let me feel you let go.”
He moved so that he ground himself against her clit. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Her release was violent, endless. She wrapped her arms around his neck as it happened, desperately needing an anchor in a world that had lost all gravity.
He buried his face in her neck as his release took him. He pounded in to her, hard, harder, so deep, then he went still, which sent her off again. It was like she opened her heart to him and let him walk right into her soul. The rawness of it made her cry.
This was what she was going to leave. God, it hurt.
Kelan pushed his hand up into her hair and kissed the side of her. “Aw, honey, are you going to cry every time we make love?”
She sniffled. “I might. I can’t seem to help it.” She held his face, looking into his eyes, trying to see if he understood. “You touch my soul every time.”
He smiled and stroked her chin. “Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I’m glad I didn’t meet you when I was younger. The wait for this would have been unbearable.”
He nodded. “I would have made us wait, years, if need be.”
She smiled at that, but the warmth faded as cold reality intruded. “Hold me tonight.”
“I will. Tonight and every night.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Angel went in search of Rocco, hoping to find him before Kit went looking for him. He’d removed his tracker necklace, leaving it in his room at Blade’s. It was not a good time to go incommunicado. If Ryker hadn’t seen him going in and out of the old barn at Mandy’s, none of them would have found him until he decided to rejoin them.
Mandy’s repeat client was in need of a sidewalker. She’d asked Angel to help again—and he was happy to, but it felt as if he was stepping on Rocco’s toes. His friend was the one who should be there with his woman, helping her build her career, seeing her growing confidence and sense of self. This first cycle of Mandy’s career only came once. And what a thing it was to see the way she helped her clients. Rocco was missing all of it, and Angel had had enough.
Angel climbed the groaning steps of the decrepit barn. The upper hay storage area was still fairly intact. Looked like someone had swept most of the old straw and mouse shit off the edge to the dirt below. There was a floor lamp, a worn ladder-back wooden chair, and a beat-up trunk. That was it. Rocco’s hideaway was a Spartan nest.
Rocco himself stood at one of the broken windows under a shallow eave. The hot September wind spilled freely into the dusty timbers.
“This place is a death trap,” Angel said, knowing full well that Rocco had heard him come up. Maybe Rocco had a death wish too.
“Go away,” Rocco said without looking away from his window.