by Лори Девоти
“The shirt,” she murmured, one hand leaving his side to pull at the T-shirt lodged under her arms.
He quickly skimmed his hands up her body, catching her shirt and bra and pulling them over her head. She stood before him, her breasts full and tempting, her nipples hard, her areolas rose-tinted and puckered. He longed to cover them with his lips, suck, taste and tease until she begged him to plunge deep inside her.
His erection pressed against his jeans. The urge to fulfill the thought was almost irresistible. Not yet. Too much to see, to taste, to devour.
As if sharing his battle, she reached for him, grabbed the top of his jeans in both hands, her fingers slipping the first metal button through its hole. Her nail jabbing the tender skin behind it in the process.
He ran a finger along her face, slipped her hair behind her ear, then whispered, “Wait.”
She glanced up at him, her eyes clouded with passion and confusion. “Wait?” she repeated.
A slow smile tilting his lips, he nodded and lowered his mouth to her breast. Slowly, tantalizingly, he swirled his tongue around one tight bud. Then pulling it into his mouth, he nipped and suckled until she arched against him, her hair falling down her back, her hand pushing her other breast toward him.
His nostrils flared. He pushed both breasts upward, held them in the V of his hands. He swung his head back and forth, his lips teasing first one then the other, dropping his nose for a second into the cleavage formed by the mounded flesh.
Blood pounded hot in his veins. The pungent perfume of the wetness pooling between her legs called to him; making him want to nuzzle her there, to taste her.
The scent almost sent him over the edge.
Her fingers clutched at his side, her fingernails digging into his skin. Then without warning, she shoved her hand down the front of his jeans and held his pulsing erection. Her fingers wrapped around him, squeezing. The tightness making him wonder how small she would be. How her body would feel contracting around him as he slid in and out, over and over, until she screamed for release.
Heat built to a roar inside Risk. With one hand he flipped the remaining buttons on his fly, releasing his rock-hard cock.
Kara inhaled sharply as Risk’s erection sprang forward and rubbed against her bare stomach. Her hand still wrapped around him, she loosened her grip so she could stroke him, the skin gliding back and forth over his hard shaft, Risk’s breaths coming out in short, ragged huffs.
“You drive me mad.” He ran his hands down her sides, pushing her pants off her hips, leaving her standing in nothing but her lace panties.
“Not fair,” she murmured, reaching up to unbutton his shirt.
“True.” He grasped his shirt in both hands and tore it open, buttons shooting across the room, pinging onto the wood floors. With his chest bare, he grabbed the tops of his jeans and pulled them down his long muscular legs, then stepped out, leaving them puddled on the floor.
“More fair?” he asked, his body glistening in the flickering firelight.
“Much.” She ran her palms down his chest and over his flat stomach. She had never stood so boldly in front of a man before — clothed or naked. How could someone as intimidating as Risk also make her feel so free, so confident?
Naked. He had seen her naked before. “Risk?”
His hands covered her butt, kneading her, his penis rubbing against her, teasing her.
“Yes, little witch.” He lowered his mouth back to her breast, making her forget the question that had formed in her mind. Then his finger slid between her folds, finding her nub and stroking as she had stroked him. She wiggled against him. A sweet pressure building inside her, coiling.
“Risk,” she panted, rising on her tiptoes, wanting more. Needing him inside her. Her breath coming quicker, she wrapped one leg around his waist, opening herself to him more.
“Kara, your scent—” He leaned forward, pressing the back of her leg against the couch until she fell backward. Her other leg tightened around him, pulling him down on the couch with her. A hand on each side of her head, his arms straight, he looked down on her, his eyes glowing. “You’re addictive, little witch.”
He leaned toward her, pressing a slow gentle kiss against her lips, then with one hand he ripped her panties from her body and tossed them onto the floor.
Risk stared down at the mound of dark curls covering Kara’s sex. The center of her desire. With one finger he parted them to find the nub he’d stroked before.
Kara moaned beneath him, moved as if to grab his hand. Instead he captured both of hers with one of his, held them up above her head.
“Let me,” he murmured. Slowly, he circled her with his finger, rubbing and twirling until a sharp gasp escaped her lips and her eyelids fluttered.
She was wet. So wet. His cock twitched against her thigh, begging to be part of his play.
Not yet.
He stroked her again, releasing more of her scent into the air.
Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth, her back arched, and her hips moved against his hand. She was slick; his finger slid over her softness with ease. He wanted to taste her. To feel her quivering flesh beneath his lips. She moaned, tossing her head to one side.
He could stand it no longer. He released her hands, ran his now free hand down her body, stopping briefly to caress one swaying breast. Then with a sigh, he lowered his mouth to her sex.
His senses roared.
So much to take in. His body shuddered, almost coming from the taste and smell of her alone. Kara quivered in response, her hands grabbing his shoulders, pushing him deeper into her folds.
He found her nub with his lips, pulled it into his mouth and swirled around it with his tongue. She was more than he had imagined. His nose buried in her curls, he breathed in, deeper and deeper.
His cock moved again, his seed near to exploding. Mouth still pressed against her, he panted, pressed a last kiss to her pale thigh, then pushed himself up so his hard length edged against the place his mouth had just left. Once, twice he rubbed against her, feeling her wetness.
She writhed in response. “Risk?” Her eyelids fluttered again, a flash of blue then violet.
“Open for me.”
Not wavering, she spread her delicious thighs wider. He waited, prolonging the anticipation, gazing at her now open sex. Then pulling in a heavy breath, plunged deep into her.
Fast and hard, he couldn’t control his need. Over and over he pounded against her.
She cried out and for a moment he paused, afraid he had hurt her.
“Again,” she urged, tilting her hips up toward him.
He obliged, lifting her legs so he could move even deeper. Her breasts bounced up and down with each movement, her nipples hard. He reached down, capturing one with his fingers as he moved inside her.
“Risk,” she panted, her eyes pure violet, flashing with passion and power. Heat built behind his own. He closed them, praying she didn’t see the fire that lurked inside him.
She began to pant. The sound pushing Risk further over the edge. Her nails scraped along his back, her legs edging higher, letting him go even deeper inside her.
He began to shake, his own release near. She cried out. Her muscles tightened around him, squeezing. His eyes flew open as his own orgasm hit, his seed spilling out, his body shuddering to completion. With a cry, she joined him, her arms clutching his shoulders, her body quivering and shaking beneath him.
The after waves of her orgasm still shaking her body, her heart still pounding, and her muscles still quivering with her release, Kara reached up to press her hand against Risk’s face. His eyes closed, he turned his face to place a soft kiss into her palm.
A little buzz of electricity tickled against her palm. Startled, she stared up at Risk, but he just pressed a second kiss to her palm, and lowered his head to press another to her cheek. She sighed. He thrilled her, made her feel alive and safe at the same time. Something Kelly would probably say was impossible. Her sister was always on the
hunt for the next big hair-raising adventure, saying it made her feel alive. Safe equaled dull for Kelly.
But then, Risk was far from dull. Kara smiled, brushed her fingers through his blond hair.
He shifted, moving her onto her side so they were curled against each other, his bare skin warming her more than the fire that snapped and popped in the hearth.
“Risk?” she asked, her head nestled against his chest, her hand clasping his arm that was draped about her waist.
“Temptation?” he replied.
Her lips curved. Temptation. She liked being someone’s temptation. “The night you found me, and took me back to your cabin…”
His chest tensed behind her.
“I…I woke up naked. Why?”
With a low laugh, he relaxed back against her. “You needed sleep, little witch. Would you sleep with your clothes on?”
She raised her eyebrows. Oh. “So, nothing…?”
“Happened?” He laughed again, cleared her hair away from her ear, and whispered in her ear. “Will you so easily forget what we just did?”
“Never.” With a purr, she turned in his arms so she faced him, and unable to believe her good luck, reached her hand to caress his face again. God, he was beautiful. Full lips. Chiseled face, and hazel eyes that seemed to change color by the second. Her world would be perfect, if she could just find Kelly — or when she found Kelly.
Murmuring a word she didn’t understand, Norwegian she guessed, he caught her hand in his and lowered his lips to her palm again.
This time the crackle where his lips touched her was undeniable. Kara pulled back, still unsure of the sensation. Risk froze.
“Did you feel that?” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, nodded his head. “Your power. I think you’ve found it.”
Her power. She did have powers — or the ability to store and release power. However it worked, she had it. She pulled her hand back, scraping her fingers along the rough stubble on Risk’s chin as she did, and stared at her palm. Powers. Could she use them to help find Kelly?
She glanced up at Risk, excitement bringing a smile to her lips. “Do you know what this means?”
Risk pushed off the couch, grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. “Yes, I do.”
Kara sat up. Not even bothering with her own clothes, she bounded to her feet.
Risk strode across the room, picked up a poker and stabbed at the fire.
“Kelly. This means maybe I can find Kelly. I just need to learn how to use them.” She tilted her head, peering at Risk. “Are you sure your boss wouldn’t—?”
He spun, the poker knocking a smoldering log from the hearth with his movement. “I told you no. Lusse is no help to you.”
The log crumbled, a piece rolling off the brick and onto the wool rug that lay beside it.
“Risk.” Kara stared at the smoking log. The smell of burning wool filling the room.
He stared back at her, his muscles bulging, the poker hanging at his side.
“Risk,” she yelled.
He blinked, glanced down at the smoking rug, and cursed. Dropping the poker with a dull thunk, he grabbed the glowing log and tossed it back into the hearth. Then smothered the remaining embers with his shirt, which lay a few feet away.
Kara ran to his side and grabbed both his hands in hers. “Are you okay? Are you burned?”
He stared down at her, his gaze unreadable.
“Risk, did you hear me?” Kara flipped his hands over, running her fingers over his broad palms. Not a burn in sight. She heaved out a breath. “What were you thinking? You could have hurt yourself.”
He stared down at his hands, clasped in hers, then laughed without humor. “I could walk through Muspelheim unscathed, little witch. It isn’t fire I fear.” He glanced up; a tinge of uncertainty colored his gaze.
A frown furrowed Kara’s brow. What had happened? Had she done something wrong? She opened her mouth to ask, to gain reassurance, but he pulled his hands from hers and strode to the couch to retrieve her clothing.
“I need to leave for a while,” he said.
Kara’s mouth snapped shut. He was leaving her.
“I have to check on Lusse,” he continued. “Wait here. I’ll come back.”
Kara tilted her head, studying him. There was no sign of anger in his demeanor, more sadness and resolve. Just a man who needed to check in with his boss, nothing else. It was unfair of her to expect him to forget everything for her, wasn’t it?
He padded back to her side, and pulled her T-shirt over her head so gently Kara barely felt the shirt being tugged into place.
She stood there, letting him, enjoying his touch even while she mourned his leaving.
With the shirt on, he pulled her long hair through the neck opening too, letting the length trail through his hands until it tumbled down her back. “We’ll sift through what we’ve learned, and we will find your sister.”
With that said, he tilted her face up with one finger and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.
Kara stood there, telling herself it was fine. He had to leave. He’d be back, and until then she had all kinds of things to sort out herself.
Risk left Kara standing with her back to the fire, her jeans held in front of her, her legs still bare. He had to leave. Needed space to think about what was happening to him — what his newfound fears for Kara meant, what her powers meant. How he could keep her safe and use her to separate him from Lusse at the same time.
The answer was simple — he couldn’t. He would have to choose. His freedom or Kara’s safety. There was no way to have both. But there was still Lusse to deal with. She wouldn’t give up her hunt for Kara now, not knowing she was half of a twin set. And there was Kara. She wouldn’t desert the hunt for her sister.
He could perhaps convince Lusse that Kara was dead — especially given a bit of time, and he could disappear from Kara’s life, make sure Lusse never again caught a whiff of her — somehow. But his disappearance wouldn’t stop Kara from looking for Kelly. She would go it alone without him there to protect her.
No, he had to come up with another plan. Give Lusse enough information to buy him time, return to Kara just long enough to find her sister — then return to Lusse forever.
He shimmered into Lusse’s foyer this time, a small room separated from the rest of Lusse’s residence by sizzling sheets of power. He waited, knowing one of her guards would announce his unexpected arrival.
Within seconds he heard the tap-tap of her heels coming toward him. Lusse greeting him herself? She must be eager.
“Risk.” Lusse waved the wall of energy aside like a beaded curtain. “Do you have news?”
Lusse was lovely as always, her silver hair held up with diamond clips in the front and left to cascade down her silk blouse in the back. Today she was dressed for riding in leather pants and polished boots. She held a riding crop casually in one hand. “I was heading to the stables. Perhaps you’d like to tag along?” She smiled with no trace of anger or malice.
Risk returned her smile, his blood pounding in his veins. What game did she play now? “Of course.”
She stepped forward, the riding crop raised in front of her, and tapped him on his chest. “But you must change first. Can’t be strolling through the snow like that, can you?”
Risk glanced down. His chest and feet were still bare. He paid little attention to what he wore except to blend in the human world and when forced by Lusse.
“Bader,” she called.
The servant appeared beside her, clothing draped over one arm and a pair of fine leather shoes in his hands.
Without a glance at either of them, Risk stripped off his jeans and pulled the fresh garments on. Everything was of the most expensive design and material. Risk didn’t have to be a fashion expert to discern that. The shirt lay close to his skin, outlining the taper of his waist, and the pants were snug against his legs without confining his movement. For some reason, Lusse wanted him dressed like her equal instead o
f her chattel.
“Fabulous.” She ran her hand down his sleeve, squeezing the muscle underneath as she did. “You should always dress like this, Risk. Your fascination with that hideous woodsman garb, I just don’t understand.”
Risk endured her touch, refusing to respond to her gibe. After circling him once, studying him from all angles, she slipped her arm through his and waved aside a second wall of energy. “To the stables then, don’t you think?”
Resisting the impulse to tell her the silk trousers she’d chosen for him wouldn’t hold up for long in the snow that carpeted her dimension, he matched his step to hers and walked out into the biting cold.
Stark mountains shot up from the landscape to their left; to their right a small path wove through the trees, leading to the stables and kennels. As the leather sole of Risk’s shoe hit the glasslike pathway, foreboding shot through him.
The kennels.
“Did you not want a report?” he asked, his tone casual.
“Of course, but what’s the rush? I’m sure you’ve been keeping your word to me. Watching the witch — searching for her sister.” She patted his arm, only the slight narrowing of her eyes giving Risk any warning as to her true thoughts.
“There was a clue,” he commented.
The path curved revealing the stables and next to them the kennels.
“A clue?” She paused.
Snow fell over the tip of Risk’s shoe. He ignored it, instead turning so they faced the mountain backdrop. “Another witch was found — dead.”
Lusse frowned. “Drained?”
Risk hesitated. How much to tell her? But Kara was right, Lusse might know something that would help them find her sister. “No, burned. The human police thought she was the victim of lightning, but there was no entrance or exit point for the energy.”
She tapped her riding crop against her leg. “Did you sense magic?”