InsistentHunger

by Lyn Gala

  With a smile, Paige sat up and pulled the bra off, dropping it in the same pile with her shirt. Strong fingers caressed her neck and then stroked through her hair. “You smell good,” he whispered.

  Paige turned, angling her body toward him. She also might have sucked in her stomach just a little. He brought his other hand up to stroke her cheek and Paige caught his wrist, holding him for a second. He was so strong. Yet his arm yielded to her pressure. She pressed his hand down until it rested against her hip. Only then did she reach up and cup his face between her hands.

  “No regrets,” she ordered him in a whisper.

  “You’ll be fine. If I thought anything else, I would never—”

  She stopped him by leaning close and kissing him. His lips parted under hers and his body arched up under her. His erection was an unmistakable swelling between his legs. He wanted her and she only had to push him hard enough to make his brain short-circuit. God knows he’d made her brain melt last time. So she just had to push him hard enough that he took what he needed.

  Even now, she could feel her fears fade in the face of growing desire. A strong hand tangled in her hair and Paige shifted closer, her pussy wet in anticipation. She would blame middle-age hormones, some perverted early menopause or something, but she only wanted Brady. Only Brady’s touch turned her skin to fire. Even now, she squirmed to reach the button of her pants because she was fever-hot.

  His hand caressed her, slipping down over her shoulder before settling at the small of her back.

  With a needy moan, Paige pulled back. Brady’s head rose, seeking to keep their contact, but after an inch, he relented and settled his head back down on the pillows. His hand, however, explored her curves. A thumb traced the edge of her hip. His fingers brushed the underside of her breast. She allowed him a moment to explore. Her back arched in pleasure at even the simple, gentle touches. However, she needed more. When his fingers brushed over her hard nipple, Paige captured his wrist and pushed it down toward her crotch.

  He yielded to each gesture. His fingers worked at the button she’d failed to open. Meanwhile, she slid her hands down to open his shirt. He watched. The shirt was shredded, the ripped edges stained with blood, and she didn’t want to think about that. She wanted to focus on her Brady.

  He was her underdog—her warrior who had fought so hard for her. He was also a damn good kisser. When his last button finally fell open, she leaned in for another kiss. His lips moved under hers, his tongue slipping in to explore. She opened her mouth more and he responded, his kisses growing hungrier. His strong hands pulled her closer and she caught him by the back of the neck and shifted to throw one leg over his lap. Release. She found herself sinking into the pure release of pleasure where she didn’t have to worry about anything at all.

  He made a small cry, either of pain from the weight on his cock or of need—she didn’t know. She pressed closer, her own body demanding movement, screaming for it. Brady’s hands left her and he squirmed out of his shirt and threw it to the side without ending the kiss. Now Paige could run her hands up his arms and feel the strong muscles just under the smooth skin. There was a sense of power under her—sheer contained strength between her knees, and she rocked forward and back, need growing to a point that she was uncomfortably hot.

  She pulled herself away, gasping for air as she got lightheaded. Brady tugged at her, encouraging her to return. For a moment, she resisted. Closing her eyes, she wallowed in the pleasure of the heat soaking into her. Then she leaned closer, still sucking in hungry breaths of air. Instead of starting another air-robbing kiss, Brady gently placed his lips on the hollow of her neck and gave her a small kiss before nuzzling her neck.

  A shiver went through Paige. A vampire had kissed her neck and yet she found she trusted him. She hadn’t felt that way about other lovers, and Brady was so strong—he could hurt her so much if he wanted, and yet his lips brushed tenderly over her heated skin.

  His hands came up to roll a nipple between strong fingers. She gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders. She might trust him, but she was going to kill him if he didn’t start moving a little faster. She rocked her hips, urging him on. Brady’s hands slipped down over her curves and rested on the waist of her pants in a silent request for permission.

  “Yes,” Paige hissed. She ran her fingers through his thick hair and leaned forward so he could get her pants off. His fingers were quick and nimble despite their size. With an enthralled expression, Brady traced one finger down the center of her spine before following the line down over her hole and to the sensitive skin hidden between her hole and her pussy. The slow torture made Paige gasp and her body jerked as the need quickly overrode any other thought.

  Her pussy was so hot and wet that she ached. “Too much?” Brady asked, his finger hesitating just on the edge of her pussy.

  “Not enough,” she growled. “I’m not a fucking china doll you can break.” Paige didn’t point out that she was going to fucking kill him if he didn’t get moving. Her body was starving. He gave her another of his boyish smiles and let his hands reach up to cup her breasts. His expression bordered on awe as he let his hands caress over her bare skin. His eyes fell half-closed and then he leaned in to lick tentatively at a nipple, the moisture cooling the nipple so fast that it hardened almost painfully.

  Before he could do the same on the other side, Paige caught Brady’s chin and tilted it up so she could kiss him again.

  His hot mouth tasted of salt and musk. Paige pressed against his shoulders without ending the kiss. Even though she didn’t have a fraction of his strength, Brady yielded again. He settled back onto the bed, his hands at her hips for a moment before they roamed across her bare skin. His slow, reverent touch made Paige ache even more. Never before had her body been so hungry for a man’s touch. She could feel this slow build of pure need that filled her belly.

  Pulling back from the kiss, she panted as she struggled to regain some control over herself. Beneath her, Brady gasped for air and the heat of each breath skittered across her shoulder. “Naked would be good,” Paige managed to say. Her heart pounded as though she’d been running and she could feel her wet pussy cooling in the chilly air. She definitely knew how to fix that.

  “Naked would be great,” Brady corrected her. He arched his back, lifting her easily so that he could reach the button on his pants. He fumbled at it for a moment before opening the zipper. Then his hard erection pressed up, tenting his white underwear.

  Brady pressed his palm against her waist and then slid his hands down. His eyes drifted shut and Paige arched her back in pleasure as his rough hands stroked her body. Fingers explored her curled bush, teasing at the very tip of her slit while leaving her clit untouched.

  She wanted more.

  She wanted him to fill her—stretch her and scratch the itch that was starting to annoy her. However, she wanted this slow torture to last. She liked the feel of her whole body hot and tight and aching. She liked feeling alive. She could feel her whole body awakening, like she’d slept through the rest of her life. She felt too big for her body, like if she stretched enough, she might slip out of the cocoon.

  Brady’s hand slid down over the round of her ass. Paige braced her hands on either side of Brady’s head and she stared down at him. His split lip was whole now. His amber eyes came open and considered her, waiting for some sign.

  Paige leaned closer and his lips parted in an invitation to kiss. Instead, Paige took his lower lip in her teeth and then pulled back, carefully pulling at the sensitive skin as she scraped her teeth across it. Brady cried out and thrust up into the air, throwing Paige off balance so that she fell on him, her chest pinning his face to the bed. He lay quietly under her, a soft chuckle vibrating through her.

  “Ass,” she complained softly even as he stroked her flanks, his desperation clear in the way his body twitched under her.

  Pushing herself back up, she tried to glare at him, but she couldn’t. Her lips twitched up into a smile and his
fingers pressed into her sides hard enough to be just a little painful. He wanted to be thrusting into her and she’d done this to him. She’d taken this careful warrior, this ethical man, and reduced him to someone who could barely contain his need.

  Kicking her legs, she pushed her pants the rest of the way off and then sat up, her thighs still straddling Brady’s legs. She was hot. Too hot. But still, she wanted more heat—more touch. Brady’s hands fondled her legs as she pulled at his jeans. She never would have gotten them off except that he dug his heels into the bed and lifted both of them easily. Then she slipped the jeans and underwear down, revealing a hard erection that was already purpling with need.

  With one finger, Paige stroked the cock from the base up to the thick head. Brady threw his head back and made an inarticulate cry as his hands flew wide. He fisted the sheets and she could practically taste his need to grab her. He wanted to. He wanted to so very much, but instead he lay under her, almost patiently.

  Digging his heels into the bed again, he shoved his body up so that he was farther on the bed and Paige rode the movement. Beneath her, muscles gathered and strained. It was like riding one of the horses from the farm—all carefully controlled power and beauty. She wanted to end the torture, to ride him until they both came hard, their bodies slick with sweat. But at the same time, she wanted to live inside this moment. Right now, nothing mattered.

  She didn’t feel confused or hurt or afraid. Right now she just felt alive and she wanted to draw this moment out like taffy, to stretch it until it lasted the rest of her life.

  Brady’s hands came back to rest against her thighs and Paige shifted up so that her wet clit was pressed against the underside of Brady’s cock. It twitched and Paige could feel her own body strain against the all-consuming need. Bracing her hands against Brady’s shoulders, Paige lifted herself up to her knees and then started settling down on his cock. He was large enough that she could feel her body stretch. Like a good morning stretch, it woke up muscles and made her body hungry to move.

  Instead, she sank down as slowly as she could. The slow torture made Brady squirm uncomfortably and Paige’s body trembled with need, but she liked the knife’s edge. She liked this unfulfilled thirst that made her body yearn for more. She finally settled down and Brady’s eyes stared up at her, begging her for more even though he was silent. She remained perfectly still.

  Brady’s fists uncurled, leaving behind wrinkles that looked like two crumpled flowers on the sheets. Carefully, he brushed his hands over her thighs, and with each pass, his fingers got closer to where their bodies joined. Paige simply watched. Finally, his fingers stroked her curled hair and a full-body shiver of need went through her. Her pussy tightened so that Brady felt even larger and he gave an answering moan of either pleasure or pain.

  His fingers returned, this time slipping between the lips of her pussy to find the hard clit. Moving with great caution, he stroked a finger over it and Paige couldn’t take any more. She rose up on her knees and then slid back down on Brady’s hard shaft. She needed this. Oh God, she needed this. She rode carefully, not giving him enough to come while she indulged herself. Instead of complaining, Brady kept his fingers against her clit, stroking and pressing as she rode him. Her muscles tightened, pulling her back into an arch.

  Paige’s control slipped and she started riding him harder, cries coming with each thrust. A distant part of her mind reminded her of bruises, but the need was too great to stop for that. Besides, Brady started pressing up to meet her. Their bodies worked together, point and counterpoint as each thrust grew longer and faster. Paige’s legs started to ache and she reached down and caught Brady by the shoulders. Immediately he stilled, but then Paige threw her weight to one side while still impaled on Brady’s cock. Luckily, he was a fast learner.

  She rolled to her back and Brady rolled with her, supporting his weight on his elbows as he took over the thrusting. Hooking her legs around the back of his thighs, Paige pulled him closer with each thrust.

  He was powerful and now she could feel every inch of that power as he pushed into her, his breath against her neck as he moaned with each movement. Paige cried out as her orgasm swept over her. Her entire body tightened. She dug fingers into Brady’s shoulders and pulled herself up off the bed. Her legs stiffened and her pussy tightened until Brady was almost too large as he continued to thrust into her. She cried out again as the orgasm continued, each thrust pushing her deeper into the orgasm until she couldn’t think. She could only gasp for air as her body twisted.

  Brady cried out and then his thrusts started slowing. Eventually he stopped, his body still draped over hers. Only then did Paige’s muscles begin to recover. Taut limbs slowly softened and her aching pussy finally loosened. Brady panting even though he didn’t technically need to breathe at all, his head buried against her neck, and Paige loosened the death hold she had on his shoulders to slowly stroke her fingers through his hair.

  She lay with her eyes closed as her body tried to redistribute oxygen to muscles that felt overused. She’d run marathons without feeling this worn out. Brady’s weight pinned her to the bed for a moment before he rolled to the side, his arm still draped over her waist.

  Without opening her eyes, Paige did a mental check. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it all through her body. Her legs were starting to get chilly now that she was sated and her knee hurt. Brady was lying on it. She pulled at her bent leg and there was a quick shuffling before Brady moved and she could straighten it out.

  “Sorry,” Brady said, his voice contrite. After deciding that she was still alive, Paige opened one eye. “Hey,” Brady said with a bright smile. The red had faded and his eyes were that pale shade of brown that made her want to just stare into them.

  “I’m feeling less than dead.”

  “And I’m feeling very healed and nice enough to not say ‘I told you so’.” Brady snorted. “Like I would ever kill my partner.”

  Paige aimed a punch at Brady’s stomach, but she was too exhausted to hit too hard. “Sometimes you have to be realistic. Realistically, we’re still locked in this room.”

  “Maybe. Maybe I can open that door now.”

  Paige forced heavy limbs to move enough to roll onto one side and prop herself up on an elbow. “Do you think so?” Brady did look good. Actually, he always looked good, but he looked healed now.

  “Maybe,” Brady said. He stretched, and the muscle under his skin bunched and stretched. Damn, he was a stunning man. “If I can’t get it open, I can break the guard’s neck when he comes down here.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Paige said. It sounded like a feasibly questionable plan, but considering how well her plans had been working out, she didn’t have much room to complain. “Just give me a second to get dressed,” she said. She dropped back down onto the bed.

  “No hurries. Just rest a second,” Brady whispered into her ear, his breath ruffling her hair. He moved away and she groaned at the loss of contact. Before she could voice a complaint, a musty blanket settled over her, and then Brady was back, pulling her close. Paige didn’t want to go to sleep, but she did anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Rise and shine,” Brady said. Paige peeled one eye open and found Brady crouching beside the bed. He had put on pants. Where his hand rested on her arm, her body started to warm.

  “Either stop touching me or we’re going to end up in bed again,” Paige warned. Brady jerked his hand back so fast that Paige almost took offense. Her glare must have warned him about what she was thinking.

  “Bed sounds good, but not that bed.”

  Paige sniffed and promptly sneezed at the smell of dust and mold. “You have a point.” Paige pushed the blanket down and sat up. “Clothes?” she asked, pointing at the pile. Brady grabbed them and offered them to her.

  “So, are you feeling okay?” Brady sounded worried.

  Instead of giving him a quick answer, Paige stopped and considered that. She felt loose and limber and read
y to take on the world. “Really good,” she said, “especially when I expected to wake up dead.”

  “Take it from me, that’s not as much fun as it sounds,” Brady said with a smile. He obviously felt better. The bruises had vanished and he looked strong. Paige pulled on her pants before she could get distracted again. “I still can’t believe you thought I’d drain you,” Brady complained.

  “I expected you’d drain me before leaving me to uber-bitch upstairs,” Paige said. “You have to save yourself first and worry about me second. That’s the only way we’re getting out of this,” Paige said. Normally she walked into a situation with a weapon, prepared to take care of herself first and foremost, so it was strange to be the one in need of rescuing. She didn’t like the feeling, but the rules didn’t change because she found herself in a bad spot.

  She looked over and Brady had a stubborn expression on his face. “You follow your training or I will kick your ass myself,” Paige warned, ignoring the fact that she couldn’t physically follow through on that threat. As a short cop, though, she’d learned that the attitude meant more than the size. Sure enough, Brady ducked his head. He still had a stubborn expression on his face, but she’d wear him down eventually. “So, are you going to break through the door?”

  “I’m going to try.” Brady wiggled his eyebrows and broke out in a wide smile. He was enjoying this.

  “Have fun.” Paige waved her hand toward the heavy wood and iron door. Hopefully, he could break through it. If not, they were still royally screwed.

  Brady moved to the center of the room, his knees bent as though about to leap into battle. He tilted his whole body so that the shoulder was lined up with the door like he was some cop in a bad seventies drama about to charge through it.