Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)

He needed her mouth. But he needed the rest of her just as much. This feeling was exceptional, terrible. Pulling away from the kiss, he ran his shaking lips along her petal-soft skin, down her slender neck, across the graceful flare of her collarbones. She tasted clean and feminine. He loved her skin.

As he kissed his way down to her breasts, her breathing turned ragged. Nipping at her gently, licking and stroking the succulent curves, he pulled first one nipple into his mouth to suckle, then the other.

While he worked on her, she grew restless. Her body heated as the delicious, intoxicating scent of sexual arousal perfumed her skin. Twisting underneath him, digging her fingers into the muscles of his biceps, she tried to rise, but gently, pressing the palm of one hand on her collarbone, he urged her to lie back down.

With a frustrated whimper, she complied. A dark rosy flush had washed over her cheeks. Marks stood out against her pale skin from the gentle things he had done to her. He fingered one mark as he contemplated it, his cock pulsing with need.

“I want to taste you too,” she said. “Lick and kiss you. Bite… I want to bite you.”

Goddamn, he wanted it too.

A growl escaped him. Coming into a crouch over her, he slipped one hand underneath her neck and lifted her up to him. “Do it.”

Her expression was nearly indescribable, both a surrender and a sharpening of intent. As erotic need rose to take over, it was like watching her fall into a bottomless pool. She bared her teeth and reached for him.

He caught just a glimpse of it—both elegant and savage at once. Then she nuzzled her face into his neck, and her teeth fastened on the tendon that ran to his shoulder. With steady, deliberate pressure, her jaws tightened. As he felt the tiny pain, he hissed with pleasure and his cock jerked in response. When she would have pulled back, he pressed her back.

“Harder,” he urged.

Her response was immediate. She bit down harder, then sucked at the bite, and he almost spilled himself over her stomach. Withdrawing, she whispered, “I’ve never done that before. I-I made a mark.”

“Good,” he growled.

This time when he kissed her, the gentleness had vaporized into hot, aggressive need. Kissing him back, she cupped his erection in both hands and pumped him. Her strong, eager fingers almost did him in. Gasping, he pulled away from her touch.

“Seriously, give that back to me,” she complained.

He muttered in her ear, “I’m too close, and I don’t want to come yet.”

“Oh, fine!” Exasperated, she flopped back down on the bed, throwing her arms over her head. “You can do whatever you want to me, but I can’t do anything I want to you, is that it?”

He grinned at the sight of her laid out underneath him like a banquet. He had grown used to the nuances of emotion in her voice, and he could tell she wasn’t really annoyed. “You don’t want me to come yet either.”

Her expression turned needy. “No,” she agreed throatily. “I don’t. Not yet.”

The brief levity died away, replaced by a need that had become painfully urgent. He tugged at the waistband of her trousers, and willingly, she raised her hips so that he could pull them off along with her underpants.

The sight of her nude body brought such strong emotion welling up, for a moment he was unable to speak or move. She was beautiful everywhere, her legs lean with muscle. A small tuft of dark, silken hair curled along the juncture between her thighs. He gripped one of her legs, just above the knee.

As she watched him, her expression changed. Placing a gentle hand to his cheek, she whispered, “Are we okay?”

“We’re better than okay.” His voice came out deep and husky. “We’ve gotten lost in the realm of ‘I don’t know what I did to get so lucky.’” Sliding down the bed, he buried his face in that small, soft tuft of hair.

“I feel the same way.” Her fingers stroked through his hair. “I think maybe we should have a quick talk. You mentioned the possibility of lycanthropes dealing with pregnancy, so I wanted to let you know, I have an IUD. I don’t like taking the pill, and I don’t trust condoms—although sure, condoms are good for safe sex…”

As she rambled on a bit breathlessly, he lifted his head to smile at her. As elegant and as talented as she was, she was still a little nerdy, kind of shy but still determined to say what was on her mind. He could tell, without her saying so, that she had thought this one through, and she was determined to hit all the important points.

Ducking his head, he kissed along the edge of her pelvic bone. “I can prevent pregnancy too,” he told her. “It’s a simple spell.”

“Naturally, it’s a spell,” she said. Humor laced her unsteady voice.

“Naturally.” He pressed his lips to the juncture at the top of one thigh. A fine, subtle tremor shook in the muscles of her leg. “And as I haven’t had sex since… maybe we’d better not get into how long it’s been since I’ve had sex as there’s no need to keep emphasizing our age difference. But I’m clean, and I’m respectful.”

“Of course, you are,” she whispered.

“I can also tell from you bringing up the topic that you’ve been careful with yourself as well. And now I want you to part your legs for me.” He stroked his fingers along the outer edge of her sex, teasing lightly at the sensitive, delicate flesh.

Her breath shuddered. Then she obeyed and exposed the most intimate part of her. The trust in that gesture shot straight to his chest more accurately than any arrow could. As he gazed down at the fluted petals of her private flesh, he thought of how much he had dreaded seeing fear of him in her expression.

Stroking one finger along the seam of her entrance, he said almost inaudibly, “Thank you.”

Her hand skimmed over him, touching his hair, his shoulder, his chest, as she whispered back to him. “Thank you.”

The urgent hunger built up again. He couldn’t wait to take her in his mouth. Going down, he parted her petals to expose the small pearl of her clitoris. As he licked, nibbled, and tugged gently at her sex, her body flexed in instant response.

She began to shake everywhere. Closing his eyes, he focused all his attention on learning what pleased her. As he explored every part of her, the wetness of her arousal slicked his fingers and his mouth.

She tasted like love, like pleasure, like all the finer things he had grown to believe he didn’t deserve and would never experience again.

Lifting herself up to his mouth, she gasped, “That feels so amazing, I can’t even describe it. But—but—”

What is it, love? he asked telepathically.

Her shaking fingers stroked his temple. “I-I’m not very good at climaxing with others,” she confessed. “I can climax by myself just fine, but… well, I’ve only had two other lovers, so, you know, I haven’t had a l-lot of practice…”

Only two other lovers?

A storm of reaction swept through him, both triumph and possessiveness. The fools lost her, and if he had anything to say about it, nobody else would ever get the chance to be with her again.

He murmured in her head, Shame on them.

“What?” She sounded confused.