What more could a Guardian ask for?
Skin, the voice inside him immediately replied. Lots of warm, bare, creamy skin. Dag saw no reason to argue with that kind of logic.
He held the kiss, savoring the way Kylie had taken control. Her tiny, white teeth nipped and nibbled at his lips, her tongue soothing the sensitized flesh with soft, fleeting strokes before darting within to tangle with his. Meanwhile, his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt, pushing the cotton fabric up to reveal the smooth, soft skin of her abdomen. As much as he wanted the garment off, the feel of her distracted him, and his fingers traced random patterns for several minutes before they could drag themselves back to the task at hand.
Her breath sped up, and he felt the tremor in her muscles as he skimmed his hands higher, dragging the shirt up and over her head before casting it carelessly aside. Then he couldn’t help himself. He had to pull away so he could see what he had revealed.
The sight hit him like a punch to the gut. If he had known what she hid beneath her T-shirts with their silly sayings, he would have tried to keep her constantly naked. Her pale skin glowed like warm cream dusted with honey and looked twice as tasty. Helpless to stop himself, he dipped his head and pressed his mouth to the tempting sight, groaning when her scent and flavor flooded him, hot and sweet and fresh, so complex and layered that he knew he could explore it for a lifetime and never capture every nuance.
His body ached for release, but he savored the torment. Inside the heavy fabric of his jeans, he felt hot and heavy and unbearably restricted, and he knew he couldn’t allow her to suffer the same torment. Pulling off her snug, worn jeans was the least he could do to make her comfortable. The fact that it exposed legs that looked too long for her modest height was entirely incidental, even if their softly rounded curves made him picture how they would feel wrapped around him, clinging tenaciously to his hips as he pounded into her.
By the Light, thoughts like those were not going to help him maintain his control, but then again, neither was the sight of the woman lying stretched out before him clad in nothing but scraps of turquoise silk and a shy, sinful smile. When he reached for her, he had to stroke firmly to disguise the shaking of his fingers. Him, a warrior, brought to a state of trembling by this little scrap of a woman. He could only hope his brethren never discovered the shameful secret or he would never live it down.
He slid his palms up the smooth curves of her hips, tracing the dip of her waist and the gentle flare of her rib cage until his palms cupped the warm, soft weight of her breasts. His fingers closed, kneading gently, and a soft sound escaped her, like a breathless hum, before she arched into his touch, inviting more. Dag could hardly refuse.
Her nipples drew tight beneath his touch, shrinking into little pebbles that he burned to taste. As if she read his mind, she shifted and squirmed and the tight band of her bra went slack. She shrugged out of the bright silk garment and let it flutter from her fingertips to join the rest of her clothes on the bedroom floor.
When he growled something indecipherable, even to himself, she just chuckled, her smile taking a cheeky turn. “What can I say? You were taking too long.”
Well, he’d have to make sure he didn’t make the same mistake twice, now wouldn’t he?
His head swooped down and before the sound of her amusement had completely faded he drew the tip of her breast into his mouth and sucked strongly. A strangled cry escaped her, and he felt her hands fly up to cradle him to her. Her fingers tangled in his hair and the sting made him rumble in approval.
Her taste filled his head, the rough and smooth textures of her skin fascinating as his tongue drew circles around her hard nipple. Part of him wanted to savor this moment, to feast on her forever, his female eternally hot and soft and needy against his hands. Another part of him, the part currently protesting vehemently against the confines of his jeans, strongly disagreed. They could come back to this later, and then again and again and again, but now he needed to be inside her. He ached to feel her warm inner walls gripping his cock, driving them both crazy with desire. Savoring each other could wait.
With a thought, he banished his human clothing and grinned at the sound of her surprised gasp. All at once, they lay pressed skin to skin, only the flimsy scrap of her panties separating them, and Dag intended to take care of that quickly.
Shifting his mouth to her other breast, he scraped his teeth over the taut peak and felt her whole body shudder against him. His hand slid down, gripped the thin fabric at her hip, and twisted. The silk tore with a whispering snarl, and he tossed it away before going in search of his real prize.
His fingers feathered through the neat little nest of curls decorating her mound and then slid deeper to find her inner flesh slick and swollen with arousal. The tip of his index finger brushed absently over the little nub hidden in her folds, and Kylie jerked, a high sharp squeal escaping her. Fascinated, he repeated the caress, then again and again until her entire body tensed and shook beneath him.
Her pleasure made him feel like a god, as if he could take on all of the Seven at once and never taste the sting of defeat. As if he could rule the world, move the heavens, and balance the entire universe in the palm of his hand. He wanted none of it, though; all he wanted was Kylie.
“Please,” she said, panting, fingers sliding down to grip his shoulders and urge him up over her. “Inside me. Now. I need you.”
She sealed his fate with those words.
It no longer mattered what Fate had decreed, or what the Light had intended. Kylie was his, and he would wage war on the whole of the universe in order to keep her.
Dag couldn’t wait another instant.
He no longer cared if his hands trembled or his palms went slick or his breath came too fast. He just wanted to be inside this woman, to feel her pussy gripping him, milking him, joining him in the ultimate pleasure. He needed to make her his.
One finger pressed deeper, slipping inside her to feel her still quivering, her body flooded with the moisture of her arousal. Feeling how much she wanted him, he couldn’t wait another moment. Shifting to grasp her hip in one hand, he used the other arm to raise some of his weight off her and settled easily into the cradle of her thighs. He fit as if she had been made for him.
“Watch,” he ordered gruffly, needing to see the hunger and emotion in those dark, coffee-colored eyes. “Watch me, beautiful. Now.”
Fitting himself against her opening, Dag kept his gaze on hers as he pressed inside. She gave a soft, shuddering cry as their bodies merged. Every slick inch of her welcomed him with a tight embrace, and he continued relentlessly deeper until he could go no farther. Her muscles clenched around him, squeezing like a fist, and the sound of her breathing stopped for a moment as they watched each other at the perfect moment of their union.
He knew the wonder of it couldn’t last. The hunger built too quickly, burning through the initial ecstasy of feeling her body welcome him. Now it clawed at his belly, demanding more. Demanding that he feed the beast and claim his mate until no one could doubt that she belonged to him.
Dag shifted, even that small movement sending shudders through them both. He settled his forearm against the mattress and slid his hand beneath her head until he cradled her skin in the palm of his hand. His fingers tangled in her hair and he leaned into her until his mouth hovered inches above hers, their breath mingling in hard, raspy pants. His other hand slid down her thigh to curl around the tender skin just above her knee. He used his grip to urge her leg higher until she clasped his rib cage with the smooth muscles, opening herself further. His cock slid just a fraction deeper, but it was enough to make both of them moan.
“Dag, please,” she panted, licking her lips. Their mouths hovered so close together, he felt the swift pass of her tongue like the brush of a feather against his skin. “I need. I ache. So bad.”
“Shh,” he hushed her, tightening his fingers in her hair until he could see her eyes dilate at the little sting it caused and feel her pussy
shiver around him. “I know, little human. Let me help.”
Gaze intent on her sweet, flushed face, Dag eased into motion, pulling his hips back inch by inch until he almost left her, then sliding forward again with aching slowness.
“There,” he crooned. “Is that better, little one?”
With a muffled shriek, his mate bared her teeth and dug her heel hard into his back. “If you don’t fuck me right now, you big, boulder-brained bulvan, I swear by all that is holy, I will make you rue the day you were summoned.”
The chuckle escaped him no matter how unwise, and when he grinned, he thought he might be flashing her fangs instead of teeth. She shredded his control that much. “Well, then,” he said, inching her knee a fraction higher. “Let us make sure that does not happen, hm?”
Easing out, he teased her for a long aching moment, feeling the way her pussy clutched at the head of his cock, trying to draw him back inside her. When she pulled hard against his grip, thrusting her head forward and snapping at him with her even, white teeth, he gave a roar and let himself go.
Dag pounded into her, no longer taking the time to savor each thrust and retreat. Pleasure overwhelmed him, every breath, every shift, every tiny movement brought another wave of ecstasy. Kylie cried out her approval and thrust her hips toward him, meeting every advance with one of her own, demonstrating her displeasure at every retreat.
Their bodies struggled together, twining and writhing toward the same goal. Dag ground his teeth together, his breath forced out of him in animalistic grunts every time he thrust home. Kylie matched him with breathless, aching cries, each a higher pitch than the last until all he could hear was the puff of air that accompanied each exclamation.
The lure of climax loomed before him, taunting him, and Dag chased after it, dragging his mate along with him. Shifting his grip, he released her leg to reach between them and press hard against the slick nub at the top of her sex. Once, twice, he increased the pressure until he felt Kylie explode around him.
Her body clenched around his like a vise, her grip nearly painful for a moment as the pleasure raced through her. His name tore from her lips in a hoarse scream, and her whole body tensed before dissolving into a mass of head-to-toe shudders.
The repeated squeezing of her channel around his cock overwhelmed him. Offering a muffled roar of his own, Dag let the orgasm wash over him and poured himself into his mate’s snug heat.
He collapsed above her, shifting when she grunted to protest his weight. He slid an inch or two to the side, unwilling to relinquish her warm embrace, but equally having no desire to suffocate her. They lay like the wounded after a battle, breathing heavily, weak and unmoving. One of his hands remained tangled in her hair, while the other cupped the curve of her hip and savored the damp satin texture of her skin.
Neither spoke. Whether because neither had the breath to do so, or because neither knew what to say seemed equally possible. Dag had no trouble identifying his feelings, but his grasp on Kylie’s seemed much less certain. He had claimed her; she was his mate. He knew he could never let her go, but whether this news would thrill or horrify her, he had no idea. His little human rarely reacted in any way he had expected.
Case in point: knowing how much his small female loved to speak, he expected her to say something. Whether it would be a serious comment or a sassy quip, he did not even try to predict. But instead, she merely turned into his warmth and snuggled closer, one hand curling to tuck under her chin, the other pressed against the plane of his chest. When her mouth opened wide, the only sound to emerge was a huge yawn, one that would have done King David proud.
Then, like her cat, she drifted easily into sleep. Dag sighed out a laugh and cuddled her close, leaning down to press a kiss to the damp curls that clung to her forehead. Life with his mate would never be boring. It might be the only thing he felt certain of at the moment, but it would do.
For a start.
Chapter Ten
Shuldik iz der stolyer; ven er volt nit gemakht di bet, volt ikh nit gekumen tsu keyn khet.
It’s the carpenter’s fault; if he hadn’t built the bed, I wouldn’t have sinned.
The sharp rapping sound intruded on Kylie’s sleep and made her frown. She felt too warm and drowsy to care much where it had come from, so she decided to ignore it and slide back into sleep. A few seconds later, it came again, this time louder, with enough force to shake the window in its frame.
Wait, window? Why would someone be knocking on her window? What was going on?
Sleepy and confused, Kylie tried to roll over, only to find the way blocked by a very large, very male, very naked body stretched beside her.
Memory came flooding back in full, unedited Technicolor. Chub rachmones. What had she done?
The gargoyle, obviously.
Okay, of all the times for her own brain to pick to snark at her, it had to settle on this one? Really? Throwing her arms over her eyes, Kylie lay still and wondered if it was too early to pray for death. Or too late.
Bam!rattle. Bam!rattle. Bam!rattle.
The noise came again, eliciting a snarl from somewhere to the left just over her head. She continued to ignore the world outside her own inner elbow and felt the mattress dip and shift as Dag rolled to his feet. When he roared his displeasure, the rattle sounded again and she finally realized the noise came from glass shaking in the windowpanes. Someone had been knocking on the window.
The second-story window.
Realization dawned, bringing with it panic, guilt, and a soupçon of outright humiliation. Kylie’s gaze flew to the bedroom window to see a gray-skinned, fang-flashing face staring back at her. Since the face obviously belonged to a Guardian, and the only one she was acquainted with—intimately acquainted—clearly stood inside the room with her, she had no trouble guessing that Knox currently hovered outside the guest-room window, wearing an expression of mingled irritation and amusement.
With an eep, Kylie reached for a blanket to cover herself and discovered none to be had. She hadn’t yet made the bed she and Dag had just, um, occupied. Groaning, she did the only thing she could, flinging herself off the far side of the mattress and hiding in the space between it and the far wall where no more strangers could see her bare tits and ass.
Oy to the ever-loving vey!
Knox tapped on the glass again, this time with much less force, and gestured at Dag to open the window. The latter complied with enough irritated force to have the old sash screeching in protest.
“Wynn is waiting below by the front door,” Knox said the minute the barrier had been lifted. “No one answered our knocks, and she became concerned, so I agreed to look around for our hosts. It appears I have found you.”
Kylie groaned and heard her grandmother’s voice clearly inside her head. “Dayn mazl, Got, vos du voynst azoy volt men dir di fentster oysgezetst.” You’re lucky, God, that you live so high, otherwise people would break your windows. In that moment, Kylie’s hand itched for a rock.
“We did not hear the knock,” Dag bit out, and Kylie peeked over the mattress to see he had regained his natural form in response to the rude awakening. Too bad the other man was a Guardian, too, because she would have liked to see those claws of Dag’s do some damage to the jerk’s smug smile.
“I can see that is true.”
Kylie groaned even louder and banged her head against the side of the bed. “Argh! Make him go away. We’ll be downstairs to let them in in a minute. With clothes on.”
Dag didn’t bother to repeat her instructions, just slammed the window closed and turned to face her, spreading his wings to block the view from outside. “I take responsibility for this. I failed to properly protect you.”
The statement made Kylie’s brain shoot immediately to condoms, which they had so not used, and panic took over for a second. Then she invested a minute in relearning how to breathe, and reminded herself with a great sense of relief that she was on the pill. It didn’t make everything better, but it helped a little. “Ye
ah, well, it’s a little late to worry about it now, but hopefully it’s not a big deal. I mean, I’m clean, and unless you’ve had way more free time while you were awake than I’ve been imagining, I’m guessing the chances of you carrying anything are pretty small. I mean, if those microbes can even live through the three-hundred-years locked-in-stone in the first place.”
Dag’s wings rustled, and his expression shifted from grim stoicism to clear confusion. “I do not understand what you speak of. Of course you bathe regularly, and what does my slumber have to do with any of this? I allowed an outsider to stumble upon us without knowing he approached, and I allowed him to see your nakedness. I should have guarded you better. The failure shames me.”
Oh. So not the condom thing, then? Kylie felt her cheeks light up like a menorah on the last day of Hanukkah. “Um, yeah. Right. We were interrupted. That sucked.” Feeling around on the floor beside her, her fingers brushed against a pile of cloth. It was her T-shirt. Kylie nearly wept with relief as she pulled it on. At least her tits were covered now. One—er, two—down, one to go. “But it’s not like it was another drude, or another psychotic electrician, so that’s a plus. No harm, no foul, right?”
Peering around the dim space—since Dag’s wings continued to block the window’s vantage point but also the light coming through it—she finally spotted her jeans and could have kissed them, she’d been missing them so much. She wriggled into those before she rolled to her feet and turned to face the Guardian. “It’s not like I enjoyed being woken up and meeting Wynn’s fiancé while nude and out of it, but I’ll live through it. I think saying it ‘shames’ you might be taking things a bit too far.”
She spoke the truth, but none of her words did anything to cool her blush or calm the twist of unease in her belly. Probably because none of them could change the fact that she’d just lost her mind and had sex with the worst excuse for a one-night stand in history—a nonhuman, immortal, shapeshifting, demon-fighting gargoyle whom she had met just a week ago. Dag might not be a bad Guardian, but she was definitely a bad Kylie.
Rocked by Love (Gargoyles Series) Page 14