Even as she shook her head, she spread her thighs so that his hard length nestled between her.
Jerking against her, his lips stopped working. “Shove me away, Nix. Make me stop, for I fear I am not strong enough.”
But it was her turn to ignore him.
He couldn’t touch her between her thighs, there would be no peace for her, but maybe it was possible she could at least help him end his torture. She rubbed her body against his, creating a delicious friction of tension in her lower body.
“You must, oh dear Gods.” He shuddered as her undulations increased.
Feeling suddenly empowered by his wondrous expression, Nixie laughed. “What’s the matter, dear?” She nipped at his nose. “Didn’t know your little pet had claws?” With an angry, hungry growl, she took his lips again.
Their teeth knocked and the desk rattled as she slipped her hand under his shirt, raking nails down his chest as she writhed more fully upon him.
And when he tipped his neck back, exposing his Adam’s apple, well…it wasn’t her fault that the sight of it turned her on so much she gave into the cravings and bit down roughly on the side of his neck, right above the throbbing beat of a vein.
An animalistic roar went up from him and then he stopped moving completely, except for an occasional spasm of his hips.
His breathing was wild and gasping when he finally turned to her several heartbeats later. The blues of his eyes were no longer electric, but still seemed to pulse with energy. Not from excitement, but maybe…maybe something else.
With a jerk, she moved away from him. Her body was still a livewire of emotions. Her need had only intensified, but along with it, her awareness of him.
Of what they’d done.
“That was…it was…”
Giving a pitiful laugh that was half crazed and half groan, she wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head violently. “You need to change, I’ll wait for you outside.”
Then without looking back, she exited the suddenly claustrophobic confines of the tent and stared up at the night sky.
She needed to get away from here. From him. But until he made his wishes she was stuck.
A tear slid down her cheek.
*
Robin couldn’t believe how little self-control he had over himself when it came to her.
All his men were gathered around separate campfires eating their dinner and talking about their plans to infiltrate the castle. But the men around the fire he and Nixie sat at were content simply to tell stories.
“Oh, bugger off,” one of them men dressed in a green smock and tights snorted. “Ye did not clubber that ogre with yer wee fists. I’ll nae believe it.”
Rupert, a small lad of fifteen who had the misfortune of looking almost half that age, snorted. “Humph. And how would you know, you old fool. Not like you were there.”
John shook his head before nudging a shoulder against Robin and whispering with humor laced behind his words, “That boy’s got his head up his arse.”
He nodded in agreement.
Nixie must have heard them, for she coughed and pressed a hand to her lips. But Robin was beginning to understand her ways; she’d not coughed at all. That’d been a barely suppressed chortle.
The two squabbling men glanced up, their irritated faces suddenly breaking out into wide smiles as they looked at her.
It’d not gone unnoticed by Robin how his men suddenly seemed to be infatuated with Nixie. How with just one smile, one blush, she’d entranced them just as she’d entranced him.
How the stories of the dark genie had come about, Robin would never know, but the woman before him was no more dark than the sun.
“What is the matter, mistress?” Rupert asked when she chugged her tankard of ale.
“Oh nothing.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave him a sweet grin. “I was just thinking about something.”
“Aye?” Another man—Callum—leaned forward. He was the brawniest and strongest fighter of the band aside from John. But unlike the ham-fisted brute, Callum had a way with the women that until now Robin had never really minded much. “And why don’t you share your thoughts with us, Maid Marian?”
They loved her stories, every night they coerced her into telling a new one and Nixie never failed to deliver.
Callum gave her a wide, innocent grin full of flattery and flirtation.
Robin cleared his throat, flicking a pheasant wishbone at the brunette’s head.
Callum jerked, clutching at his skull and glaring at Robin.
Nixie, obviously seeing his fit of jealousy, rolled her eyes. But how could Robin hope to help himself? He couldn’t forget the way she’d held him, how her hips had rolled upon his. Her movements magical, frenzied, and yet completely innocent all at the same time. How she’d teased him mercilessly, but how she’d stayed on him long enough to try and ease his need of her.