He kissed her complaint into his mouth, her lips lush and sensual, her taste distinctly tart today. Vasic might not care about food, but he could explore the flavors of Ivy forever. “Undo the buttons,” he said against her lips, stroking one hand down to lie over her buttocks, the other braced palm-down beside her head.
Chest rising and falling in a shallow rhythm, she lifted her hands between them. “Next time,” she muttered, even as she slipped button after button free, “I’m ambushing you while you’re asleep and tying you up.”
Vasic felt the languorous, sexual part of his nature smile, stretch lazily. “I’ll buy you the rope.” He kissed and nipped at her throat. “Are you wet for me, Ivy? My penis is so hard it feels like a rod of iron.”
Groaning, she finished unbuttoning the cardigan and shrugged it to the floor. “A gag,” she gasped. “I need to gag you, too.”
You’re welcome to. He shaped his hand over the fragile lace of her camisole, bracketing her breast between thumb and forefinger. She wore a bra under the camisole, but it was of lace, too, and he could almost imagine he saw the dusky pink of her nipples beneath the rich white. Now, undo your jeans so I can tease you with my fingers.
Shivering at the telepathic order, she rose up on tiptoe and bit down on his lower lip. He took the sensual punishment with a smile. It wasn’t a smile as other people might think of it, his lips barely altering shape, but Ivy knew, her eyes glowing from within as she flicked open the button of her jeans.
“Shall I take off my camisole?” She whispered the question against his ear, soft, hot breath and erotic temptation. “I want to feel your mouth on my breasts, want you to suck hard and leave a mark.” Her own mouth grazing his jaw. “And your hands.” A throaty moan. “You have such big, strong hands, the way you rub around my—”
He growled at her, the sound coming from deep within his chest.
Laughing in the intimate space between them, she rose up against him, kissed him in sweet little sips, her hands on either side of his face. Every muscle in his body tense, Vasic surrendered to the kiss, to the possession that may as well have been steel chains around his body. When her lips moved down his neck, he shuddered . . . and realized they were about one and a half seconds from being swallowed up by a raging sandstorm.
Chapter 55
“STAY RIGHT HERE,” Ivy said after he ’ported them back to the bedroom. “Don’t move a muscle.” A kiss pressed to his sternum.
When she ducked out from under his arm, he didn’t go after her into the bathroom. Instead, he used the minutes it took for the water to fill the tub to regain a measure of control. And lost it all the instant Ivy returned to her earlier position trapped between his body and the wall.
“Maybe,” she said, lavishing kisses on his chest, “we could have a large water tank next to our home.”
Our home.
Vasic had never had a real home, and now he was going to have one with his empath. “I’ll build it myself,” he said through the flood of happiness in his blood.
Licking at him then blowing on the wet, Ivy leaned back against the wall. “Why didn’t Tks in the past use the same trick?”
“Probably,” he said, as she unzipped her jeans, “because they didn’t have the mental training to direct their abilities so specifically.” His words came out harsh, his breath ragged. “The damage caused was often significant.”
“I guess Silence did have some good points.” Toeing off her shoes, she began to wriggle out of the jeans.
He should’ve pushed back, given her more room, but he liked the fact that she kept rubbing up against him in the confined space. Jeans off, she nudged them aside and tugged off her socks to rise to her full height clad only in lace.
“Now this.” He touched the strap of the camisole.
Slipping it off over her head, Ivy drew her hair away from her face.
He pressed one hand against her abdomen before she could make any other move. “Let me look.”
Hands flat against the wall and breasts feeling swollen and taut in the confines of her bra, Ivy gave Vasic what he wanted. Molten silver, his eyes lingered on her lips, her throat, the tight points of her nipples . . . lower. Biting back a moan, Ivy watched him raise the hand he’d placed on her abdomen, tuck a finger under the strap and stroke downward.
“Vasic.”
“Hmm?” Kissing her as he repeated the maddening caress, he pulled a bra strap off her shoulder. Another ravenous kiss before he turned his attention to her breast, reaching to tug the cup farther down so her nipple was exposed. Then, before she could ready herself for it, he lowered his head and closed his mouth over the sensitized tip, licking and sucking at her as if she was a decadent treat.
Fingers locked in his hair, Ivy could feel her body undulating in naked pleasure, the wall at her back, and the hard muscle of him in front of her. Unable to control the movements, she gave in, her panties so damp with her arousal that when he raised his head from her breast, his nostrils flaring, she knew he’d caught the musk of her scent. The silver of his eyes shifted to pure black. No whites. No irises. Just a wild, endless night that told Ivy her Arrow’s hunger echoed her own.
Steam curled into the air behind him, coming from the bathroom, but it was the steam they’d generated between them that scalded. Acting on instinct and need, she slowly pulled down the other strap of her bra, baring the begging pout of her nipple. “Please.”
Hitching her up onto his waist with muscled ease, her legs wrapped around him, he used one hand to further plump up her breast. Then he gave her what she wanted and took what he needed, his pleasure in her intoxicating. Rubbing the juncture between her thighs against his abdomen, she tried to get lower, craving the friction of his arousal, but the position made that impossible.
Then Vasic took her hand from his shoulder, situated it so her fingertips were just under the elasticated waistband of her panties. “Touch,” he murmured, eyelids lowering as he looked down. “I want to watch.”
Lungs working overtime and skin shimmering with perspiration, she inserted her hand between them, the hard ridges of his abdomen separated from her skin only by a fine layer of lace. Not sure quite what to do, she tentatively stroked, shivered.
“It feels good,” she whispered, having the courage to do this only because it was Vasic. Her Arrow. Her lover. “But I like your touch better.”
His breathing had lost its rhythm, his voice gravel when he said, “I like watching you. Do it for me, Ivy.”
All at once, her body was tighter, wetter, more wound up, each caress creating a heady rain of sensation. Moaning, she closed her eyes . . . and Vasic pressed up tight against her, trapping her hand as he kissed her with such unleashed passion that all she could do was take it. The wall vanished from behind her, but it was back before she could lose her balance, the bedroom a misty landscape painted in steam.
His hand around her throat in a gentle, protective hold that made the nerve endings in her skin ignite, Vasic kissed her into an oblivion of pleasure. Ivy rubbed and arched against him, her nipples deliciously abraded by the muscled silk of his chest. A groan came from deep in him. The vibration traveled through her near-painfully aroused nipples to the engorged folds between her thighs.
“I want you,” she got out between kisses, and it was half entreaty, half demand. “Inside me, Vasic.”
Shifting back without warning, he allowed her to remove her hand from her panties before dropping her to her feet, his hands on her waist keeping her upright when her knees threatened to crumple. Startled because she’d assumed he wanted to enter her in their previous position, she gasped when he flipped her around so she faced the wall.
“Brace your hands against it.” The words were so rough, she wasn’t surprised when the wall disappeared a second later, the desert in front of her. The wall was back in a single heartbeat. He was getting faster at the switching, she realized before all thought was lost as Vasic pulled down her panties.