Then Rune opened his hot mouth on the sensitive skin of her neck and suckled at her, and she lost the ability to get any word out. He grazed her lightly with his teeth as he let go of her nipple. His infernally clever fingers moved to the front of her caftan.
All of her caftans were hand-stitched, of varying designs. Some were simply fashioned to pull over the head, and others were fastened down the front with a row of small buttons carved of either bone or wood. None of them contained zippers, as she used them so often for work and metal could sometimes interact or interfere with magic.
This caftan was fastened in the front with a row of buttons. As he suckled at her neck, Rune slipped one of the buttons free of its hole. His hand was clamped so tightly on her mouth she couldn’t turn her head. She tried to track his movements by just moving her eyes.
The buttons ran close together. He unbuttoned another and slipped his hand inside to cup her breast again. They both hissed as his calloused palm came in contact with her heavy, naked, sensitive flesh. Every muscle in his body felt ridged with tension. When he pushed his lean hips against the rounded curve of her ass, she could feel the long thick ridge of his erection. She could sense the blood hurtling through his body like a stealth bomber, and his jagged breathing sawed against her skin. He massaged her breast and scraped the tip of her nipple with his fingernail.
Every pulse point on her body screamed in response, the sexual need ratcheting higher. Normally so cool, she was shocked all over again when she broke into a sweat and her sex moistened in a liquid gush. The sense of urgency, of possible exposure, was agonizing.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
She started shaking her head. Somehow she found a paltry scatter of words. I—I don’t think—I can’ t—
Can’t what, beautiful girl? Can’t relax and enjoy this? It’s wicked but not bad. It’s just a little naughty fun and even if it doesn’t feel like it, it’s perfectly private. Rune whispered temptation in her head with as much wily wisdom as the snake in the Garden of Eden. He pinched her harder, and she strangled a squeal as her back arched. You’re safe, trust me. I would never let anyone see you like this. God, your breast feels like it was made for my hand. Such a perfect, perfect fit.
She was going to push him away. She was, any minute now, but then he pulled his hand out of the caftan, which left her blinking in disappointment.
She twisted to face him, her arms going around his neck even as his mouth came down on hers. He kissed her, hard and hungrily, and she let her eyes fall closed as she kissed him back. His heart pounded. She loved the sensation of his blood coursing throughout his long, powerful frame.
He turned them and pushed her back against the wall, covering her with his body, and fresh shock detonated as he ran a hand down her torso between them to unfasten the two buttons of her caftan that were over her groin. Before she quite knew what happened, he had slipped his hand inside and slid his fingers into the moist silken tangle of private hair.
He was touching her. Right there in the hotel lobby. He was touching her. The pleasure of it had her so crazed it escaped in a high, thin, nearly inaudible scream as she clutched his hand against her. He swallowed the sound as he fucked her mouth with his tongue.
And nobody noticed. Nobody saw. The indifferent world wheeled on its clockwork way around them.
Shh, darling, Rune said. His mental voice sounded as ragged as she felt. His big body bowed over her, lungs working like bellows. He was so hot, the feel of his body burned through the caftan. Holy gods, I’m finding religion here. You feel like heaven on earth, you’re so soft and wet and silky. What I wouldn’t give to be able to taste you right now.
She let go of his hand and gripped one of his rock-hard thighs as she sank the other fist in his hair, and somehow she managed to find her telepathic voice again. Okay okay okay. This has been really amusing—
Amusing. More like apocalyptic.
—but I don’t think I can take any—any more of this—
Even as she stuttered, he found the small stiffened bud of her clitoris and stroked it with a forefinger.
The climax sucker punched her, a left hook that came out of nowhere and clipped her on the jaw. All the strength ran out of her body and her legs turned to rubber, and she went down for the count.
She slid to her knees and he came down with her. He cupped her between the legs and kept a firm steady pressure on the tiny throbbing pulse of her pleasure, bracing his weight on one forearm against the wall as he bowed over her. He was panting as if he were running in a full-out sprint, his Power a fiery cascade around them. He pulled his mouth from hers to sink his teeth into her neck as she shuddered through the throes of the climax. He was swearing steadily in her head, and the jagged curses sounded like poetry.
Then the cataclysm racking her mind and body eased. They both held still, breathing heavily.