Chapter Four
Slow down, Branson. You just beat her up with your fear and fury. Give her a break.
It was a mistake to bring her to this isolated spot. Magick without control could result in injury or unintended exposure to humans. How would it look for the chairman who oversaw the ethical use of magick to reveal the paranormal world? The seclusion worked against him now as his libido revved into overdrive.
She moistened her lips with her pretty pink tongue. She drew in a ragged breath. Her heart knocked against his palm. Her green eyes dropped to his mouth and he was lost.
“Becca.”
She met his gaze and ran her hand from his shoulder to his cheek before leaning forward. Adrenaline shocked his system, increasing the urgency of his desire. He needed her. Now. No use denying his absolute hunger for her.
Her mouth brushed his. Her sweet, tentative kiss tore at his control. To keep from scaring her with the raging passion he had no experience in leashing, he let her take the lead. He parted his lips, inviting her in. She nibbled at his mouth in gentle nips. Like fine Beaujolais, he savored the taste of her lips, the silky glide of them over his, keeping his response in tune with hers.
She ran her hand into his hair.
He trailed his fingers from her shoulder to the petal-smooth skin of her neck. She tilted her head, giving him access to more. Oh, yes, he wanted more. So much more.
She angled her mouth, mating it to his. He held his breath, the anticipation killing him. Her soft tongue dipped into his mouth, and he met it with calm deliberation, their tongues tangling in a slow first dance.
His control fraying, his heartbeat racing, he stroked her velvet cheek with his thumb. A whimper vibrated on his tongue. The last thread of control snapped. He fisted his hand in her hair at the nape of her neck, taking over the kiss. He devoured her, his tongue dominating hers, forceful, taking what he wanted.
His growled groan was answered by her softer moan. Her eyes, glazed with desire, stared into his.
“Ian, it’s getting dark.”
“You’re right.”
Making love with her here and now couldn’t happen. He removed his hand from her dress. Cradling her face in his palms, he smiled. “Thank you. You freed me from my recent emotional hell.”
Her brows drew together and her eyes narrowed. “Oh. Okay. You’re welcome.” She pulled her hands away and struggled to her feet. “Um, I guess we need to put out the fire.”
What did he say? What did he do? He was an idiot. Again.
He stood and grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her still. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t meet his gaze. Even though the sun slowly sank, taking with it the remaining light, her disappointment was clear in how her gaze remained cemented to the sand.
“Yes. I’m fine. I don’t hear your thoughts or feel your emotions anymore.”
So she didn’t feel the connection anymore. Probably for the best, though the gnawing in his stomach and the tightness in his chest didn’t match the sentiment.
He folded up the blanket and handed it to her. By lowering his hands, palms down, he extinguished the fire.
The sun, only a faint glow of orange on the edge of the sea, fled and turned the day into night. He took her hand and conjured a ball of light for a lantern to light the way. While her eyes widened, she said nothing. He needed to concentrate on the sounds of the forest as danger prowled after dark. A prayer offered to the gods couldn’t hurt.
By the gods, let me return her safe and sound to the main house. I’ll honor our agreement and help her with the scroll. She’s already given me so much, my peace of mind, my control. A shame she pulled back on the beach. I would have given her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. It’s better this way. Better I didn’t let her in completely. I already admire and desire her too much. If I touched her soul....
A branch cracked. Dry leaves crunched.
He opened to sense for nearby visitors...or predators.
Hunger. Lust. Not for sexual release but flesh and blood. Werewolf. He hoped it hunted alone.
He squeezed Becca’s hand and received a return squeeze. With intense focus, he reached out to her, making a conscious connection.
Listen. Werewolf nearby. Adolescent and dangerous. He can’t control his urges yet. I don’t want to hurt him if I can help it. Do you understand?
Their eyes met over the light in his hand and she nodded, her mouth tight and eyes wide. Shock mixed with fear washed through him. He prayed she would trust the connection they had and not bolt.
Stay close. I can protect you if you do exactly as I say.
He closed his hand, extinguishing the light. Not a good idea to make it too easy for the wolf. Along the path he crept as quickly as he could, careful to avoid as many of the overhanging branches and roots underfoot as possible. When Becca tripped, he caught her.
He loved that she trusted him. He wouldn’t trust someone else’s decisions so quickly. He hadn’t earned her trust. He wasn’t worthy of her.
Leaves crunched. The wolf closed on them.
He picked up the pace, dragging her behind.
I have to get you to safety.
A stick broke a few feet away, sounding like a gunshot in the silent forest. The wolf launched itself, mouth agape, teeth bared to latch on and tear flesh. Ian held up his hands and the animal slammed into an invisible wall.
“I don’t want to hurt you, boy,” he warned the growling wolf. Through narrowed eyes, he murmured an ancient spell in Welsh. The wolf stopped growling, curled on the forest floor, and slept.
Come on, hurry. There may be more.
His heart drummed wildly in his chest. One of his own had stalked Becca, would have hurt her had she been alone.
He rushed into the Haus, Becca in tow, and bumped into Rekkus. Solid fellow that he was, Ian bounced off and stepped back. He drew Becca in close with an arm around her waist.
“Rekkus. There’s a sleeping wolf about a half mile back on the trail from the private cove.”
The head of security looked at Becca, raised his eyebrows then shook his head. “Your doing, I assume?”
Ian shrugged. “He wasn’t very friendly.”
Rekkus’s brow furrowed. “Thank you. I’ll take care of him.” With a curt nod, he left.
Adrenaline from the encounter still zinging in his blood carried with it a euphoria at having beaten a foe, protected his woman. He’d missed the magical high. Between imprisonment in his office and locking down his powers, he’d lost a piece of his soul. Facing down a werewolf safely fed both his confidence and his libido. Did he dare shed his heavy mantle of responsibility to embrace his desires? Becca’s ardor had cooled following the intense storm of their kiss.
One glance at Becca’s face ignited a spark of hope. Her mouth quirked up and she shook her head in disbelief. “I feel like I just stepped out of a fairy tale.”
With her hand small and warm in his hand, he had to agree. Happiness bloomed in his chest, replacing the knot caused by the loss of his wife. “Me, too.” He couldn’t help the goofy grin tugging at his lips.
“You were amazing.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared up into his with a childlike wonder.
He picked a twig from her hair, a souvenir from their night hike, and handed it to her. “No, he’s just a boy. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I just don’t know what to think. I’d always dreamed of waking up in a fairy tale and here I am.”
“And you’re handling it beautifully.” They still stood in the lobby, Myron watching from her station. “Tired?”
She scoffed. “Are you kidding? No, couldn’t sleep if I tried. I’ve got a few questions.”
He silently thanked the gods for an opening. “We need some privacy.”
Her eyebrow arched, stirring the embers of his passion. “Of course. Your room or mine?” Becca’s sweet innocence fanned those embers to a sizzling flame. Heat suffused his belly, flowing like
molten lava to every pore of his body. He wallowed in the intoxicating warmth and freed his tightly reined emotions. With one smooth movement, he scooped her up in his arms.
“Ian. Put me down.” Despite her protests, her smile stretched across her face.
He elbowed the call button for the elevator and closed his eyes in ecstasy when her lips grazed his jaw. Her silky mouth on his neck kicked up the blood pressure that had been dropping back to normal. Did she feel the blood pounding in his veins?
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Thank the gods the lift was empty because he wanted his mouth on hers. Now. He set her on her feet and framed her face with his hands. And lowered his mouth to hers.
He devoured her, his tongue pillaged, his teeth nipped at her bottom lip. He backed her against the wall and pressed his throbbing shaft to her belly.
Damn elevator. When the doors glided open, he dragged his mouth from hers and gulped in air. His body, tense with desire, ached for her. From the dazed look in her eyes, she wanted him just as much.
In a hurry to get to his room, he swept her off her feet and strode to the door. Too impatient to stop and unlock the door, he opened it with a flourish of his fingers. Magick helped open the door but wouldn’t relieve the painful throbbing in his pants. Only Becca could remedy his ache.
He kicked the door closed and carried her to the bed. He took a moment to light a candle on the bedside table with the flick of his wrist before he covered her body with his. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her delicious sweet lips eagerly responded to his demands. The wet heat of her mouth surrounded his tongue, and he couldn’t help the obvious parallel to burying his cock inside her.
He had to touch her, skin to skin. He reached down and grabbed the hem of the loose cover-up. With none of the subtlety he prided himself on, he tugged the garment off her, breaking his kiss for only a moment.
Finesse nonexistent now, she’d stripped him of his elegant veneer to his most primal form. He’d never felt so feral. He’d never felt so alive.
She worked at his shirt buttons but her fingers fumbled. His chest heaving, dragging in air, he stood. Her eyes widened but she didn’t look away. She licked her kiss-reddened lips and sent a jolt through his system.
Quickly, he divested himself of shirt and pants. She raised her eyebrow at his lack of underwear. “Commando?”
“Comfortable.” His voice sounded husky to his ears.
When her gaze raked his body, tremors raced through him as if she’d touched him. His engorged erection bobbed, drawing her attention. She licked her lips again and he wanted her mouth on him, tasting his essence. She’d done this to him, made him want her with an almost unbearable intensity. His fingers itched to slide up her legs to the juncture hidden by her conservative bathing suit bottom.
Her eyebrows drew together, and he wondered if she heard his thoughts. No sense in worrying now. Actions spoke louder than words.
He jerked his chin at her swimsuit. “Take it off.”
Again, her brow furrowed and she frowned a bit. Maybe he’d have to do it for her. She surprised him by slowly removing the halter top and bottoms, her anxiety rolling off her. Shyness made her more desirable than all the sophisticated women he’d met on the East Coast.
She reclined, her weight resting on her bent arms, a slight bend at one knee. She shimmered perfect ivory against the sea blue of the comforter. While she was so gorgeous, so alluring, she was also completely uncomfortable naked. Soon she’d know how very lovely she was.
He lay next to her and rolled to his back. “Touch me.”
Her little grin revealed a bit of confusion, but complete amused willingness. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face as she leaned over to trace a finger over his bottom lip. He touched the tip of his tongue to her fingertip and she smiled.
She ran her fingers over his face, her gaze following their trail. He kept his gaze on her face, watched every expression flicker across her fine features. She enjoyed exploring him at her leisure. Being in control made her more comfortable. It made him crazy.
She followed the line of his jaw then traveled the length of his neck. No bone or muscle ignored. The contours of his collarbone, the bulge of his bicep—they all received her personal attention.
He closed his eyes to focus on controlling his reactions. Gentle circles drawn around his nipple jerked him to full attention. He opened his eyes to see her lean down and take his nipple between her lips.
“Becca.” He clenched his fists to keep from grabbing her, rolling her over, and driving into her.
“You like this?” Her amused voice taunted him. She liked torturing him, the vixen.
“Too much.” He drew in a ragged breath when she sucked his nipple in her hot mouth then rolled it between her teeth.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Never. He could stand a little more torture. Maybe. “No.”
His eyes closed, he tried to relax but every touch, every lick burned like a live wire. Delicious torture.
Her hands stroked in tandem down his sides to his hips, stopping to run her thumbs along his hipbones. His belly jerked at her open-mouthed kiss on his skin. She swirled her tongue around his navel then delved into the depression. Nerve endings throughout his pelvis exploded with pleasure and anticipation. Her tongue distracted him from her hand until it closed around the swollen shaft.
His hips thrust off the bed. A gasp exploded from his lips. “Becca,” he warned.
“Just give me a minute, Ian. Please.”
He opened his eyes again. Her red hair flaming in the candlelight, she moved forward and pressed her lips softly to the tip of his cock. Entranced, he watched her sip the drop from the tip then circle the head with her tongue. Blood surged, further engorging his throbbing member. If she took him into her mouth, he’d come instantly. He didn’t want that. Yet.
“Minute’s up,” he said, grinding the words out through clenched teeth.
With a sudden move, he flipped her on her back. He wouldn’t be so gentle. He needed his mouth on her. Everywhere. Now.
Her scent of lavender and sea spray surrounded him. Her pink nipples beckoned his kiss and he devoured them, taking first one then the other into his mouth. He sucked, grazed with his teeth, and licked them while his hands ran over her silky skin. Her ragged gasps ratcheted up his urgency. He moved his hand over her quivering belly then cupped her mound. His mouth followed with rough kisses. He slid down the bed and parted her legs, kneeling between them. Blood pounded in his temples, lust raged in his gut. Nothing existed but her.
She was his.
Her eyes widened as he reached beneath her hips and jerked them up. Impatient, needy, he bent his head and took a long lick. Her moan spurred another lick and another. He sucked her greedily as she thrashed against his hold.
“Ian.”
“Becca, you taste so good.” He flicked her clit and she arched further off the bed. Oh, how he wanted her to come in his mouth.
“Stop.” She panted and trembled. “I want to come with you. Inside me.”
If he didn’t enter her right now, he’d come outside her, all over her. Not the way he wanted. This time.
From the drawer, he retrieved a packet, ripped it open, and rolled on the condom in record time. Just the touch of his own hand had his cock throbbing painfully.
He stretched out on top of her and kissed her gently. She sucked his tongue, sending a white-hot shock to his loins.
All restraint vanished.
Urgency reigned as he hooked a hand under one knee, his mouth still on hers while he glided his body back and forth over hers. Her nipples grazed his chest, her skin like satin against his stomach. Each time his staff nudged her slick opening, he slid back. Each time he touched her most private part, she whimpered.
He wanted to hear her scream his name.
Surging forward, he entered her in one fluid thrust, her scream echoing in his head. She moaned and restlessly moved
beneath him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, the pain a heady drug.
“Are you all right?” He had to make himself ask because every part of him wanted to drive into her over and over. But he’d poured all his fear and rage into her earlier. She’d fearlessly taken it with compassion. He only wanted passion and pleasure for her now.
She opened her glazed eyes and glared at him. “If you dare stop now, I’ll kill you.”
He laughed aloud. This woman surprised him, amused him, and inspired a wild lust. “Fair enough. I have to warn you, I have a lot of pent-up passion.”
“Yeah, it’s been a long time for me, too. I don’t want slow and sweet.”
He shook his head and smiled at her. “By the gods, woman, neither do I.”
He raised her hands over her head, lacing them with his own. Sliding out, he paused. Her hips rose off the bed to drive him back in. He thrust again and again, her hips driving him deeper. Sweat dripped down his back. He burned inside and out. Her muscles gripped him ever tighter while her high-pitched moans turned low and guttural.
Hotter, deeper, harder, more.
He released her hands to slide his hands under her back to anchor her in place. So close to a cataclysmic climax.
“Ian.”
Her body jerked as every muscle in her body clenched. Colors exploded behind his closed eyelids, and the roaring rose to a crashing crescendo in his head. His body, coiled in unbearable tension, released in ecstasy.
Her inner muscles spasmed, pleasure flooding into him as his passion poured out. Only peace remained but for how long? Had this been a mistake?
Chapter Five
I must be crazy.
How could she feel so safe in the midst of such lunacy?
Becca stretched within the confines of Ian’s embrace. His arm held her close, and his coarse chest hair tickled her back as he molded his body to hers. Warm, even breaths stirred her hair over her ear while his heart thudded slowly and rhythmically against her back.
Ian’s erection, hard and hot, pressed to her backside seemed real enough.
He was a sorcerer. Werewolves were real. Ian could start fire with a flick of his wrist, stop a werewolf in his tracks, and cast a sleeping spell. What kind of place was Wiccan Haus? True, she’d come hoping for some psychic insight. Was it such a stretch sorcerers exist? Fairy tales weren’t real but she knew what she’d seen, what she’d felt.
Sorcerer's Legacy Page 4