Lunar Heat: 1 (The Heat Series)
Page 13
She tried to raise her hand toward him, but couldn’t.
Yet, she still retained power of her vocal cords and could speak. “Let me take off your pants.”
“It’s my turn.”
His turn?
He ever so gently cupped her chin, angled her head until their gazes locked. His heat poured into her. “I want to watch your eyes.”
“You’d better do a damn lot more than just look into my eyes.”
At her comment, his lips quirked into a charismatic grin. She couldn’t have broken his gaze, not even for all the liquor in the suite. His gaze compelled, overshadowing her need to do more than hold her breath in anticipation of what he would do next.
“I will do whatever I wish,” he promised. “Touch you wherever I like.”
“Good.”
“Whenever I like.”
“Nice.”
“However I like.”
“Awesome.”
It occurred to her that she couldn’t have said no—even if she’d wanted to. As her knees sank into the mattress, she realized her thoughts were her own—yet her freedom was limited by . . . something she couldn’t explain. Even as desire raged through her so hot she burned for him and felt as if she were about to go up in flames, she understood that somewhere along the line she’d lost the freedom of choice.
Her will to command her body was gone, taken over by a riveting force she couldn’t name in English, never mind understand.
While she could now speak, she clearly recalled when she couldn’t. Although she might not have a choice—there was no place she’d rather be. Not even back on Haven.
His gaze smoldered, scorched a path that made her hot. And yet she shivered in anticipation. Waiting for Cade to touch her, unable to move, knowing he would make love to her, was a good place to be. She took pleasure in the wanting.
Compelled to lock gazes, she couldn’t wait to get her clothes off.
He placed his fingers on the side of her neck, just below her jaw. Jolted by a sudden electric excitement, she let out a soft moan. Looking straight into her eyes, he ever so slowly teased his fingers down her neck, taunted his way to her collarbone, eased her dress down, exposing her cleavage inch by inch.
She sucked in a breath. Oh, my.
How could he be so playful and fierce at the same time?
He played with her bra, watching her face. It was so intimate, so hot. She quivered with need, waiting for his touch.
He dipped his fingers beneath the lace. She sucked in air, and her breast somehow lifted into his fingers. Her nipple hardened, and his thumb raked over the sensitive tip. At the same time, his eyes darkened to twin green pools of pleasure. Keeping his hand inside her bra, Cade continued to graze her breast while his other hand began a similar journey. Along the way, he must have unzipped her dress because she felt the sides flutter open, exposing her stomach.
Despite her own need to glance down at his hands, she couldn’t break his gaze. As if knowing he was in complete control, he smiled in warm delight, and she simmered with desire.
Wondrous, wanton desire.
When his other hand cupped her breast and grazed her nipple, the blissful sensations rocked her to the core. Tense, expectant with slick yearning creaming between her thighs, she ached for more. Yet what he was doing to her breasts felt so good, she didn’t want him to stop.
At that moment, she had to have him—no matter the consequences. She had to have him—even if it meant she’d never again be the same.
She wasn’t drugged. Or hypnotized. Or brainwashed.
While she couldn’t account for the extraordinary sensations, she understood they were alien. That she should have been frightened.
She wasn’t.
She should have asked what was going on with his Quait.
She couldn’t.
She should have told him to hurry up.
She didn’t.
Cade’s hands on her breasts, the heat in his eyes, the intensity of his expression had turned her on. She hadn’t ever felt this glorious—or sexy.
Cade snapped open her bra, swept it aside along with her dress, leaving her as deliciously bare as he was from the waist up. He slid his hand up to her chin, gently made certain that she watched him lower his eyes to rake over her breasts. She hadn’t thought her nipples could tighten any further, but they had. His bold stare returned to meet her eyes, and this newest intimacy sent a shockwave of heat lacing through her.
With a suggestive gesture, she shimmied her hips to remind him that he had more undressing to do. “Don’t you want to take these off?”
“Yes”—he kissed her brow—“but”—he kissed her cheek— “not”—he kissed her neck— “quite”—he kissed her collarbone—“yet.”
When he gently sucked the tip of her breast into his mouth, his tongue licked, and the corresponding jolt of pleasure caused her to arch into him. She grabbed his shoulders to maintain her balance, but nothing could steady her thumping pulse.
His tongue swirled over her breasts, flicked over the nipple, bit and sucked, driving her wild. But she couldn’t move. Couldn’t squirm. She could only take all the pleasure he was giving her.
Her breaths came in gasps. Her panties were wet. And the tingle in her breasts had her so ready to pounce on him. Yet, even as her brain instructed her hands to tug him onto the bed, they failed to work. Oh, she could hold on to him to keep herself upright. But the tugging-him-where-she-wanted- him movements were denied her.
Quait hadn’t made sense when he’d explained it to her. It wasn’t as if she were paralyzed. She could skim her fingers over his shoulders and back, and his supple skin stretched tightly over corded power pleased her. She could arch her back, lifting her breasts into his mouth. She could release soft moans.
But she couldn’t do one damn thing more than he wanted her to do. She couldn’t hurry him. He was in charge. And she had to wait.
The waiting was pure agonizing pleasure. Sweet, crazy torment.
His tongue circled her breast, then wickedly he moved to the other. She gasped with wild hunger, tensed as heat coiled low in her belly.
“Cade.”
“Mmm?”
“Let me take off your pants.”
“All right.”
She sent his slacks and boxers to the floor, and he kicked them off.
Oh, God.
The tender tug on her breast with his teeth sizzled straight to her core.
Just when she thought she might climax from his attention to her breasts alone, he pulled his mouth back and helped her to stand on the bed. She was taller than him now. But as she watched him hook his thumbs into her panties and toss them aside, a wicked gleam entered his eyes.
His hot gaze lingered at the triangle of hair between her legs. He licked his lips as if eager for a snack and then placed her hands on his shoulders, parted her legs.
And then she waited. Stood before him totally naked. Totally exposed. Trembling with need.
He locked her down solid. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t squirm.
“Do you like waiting for me to taste you?” he purred.
Yes. “No.”
He brushed her mons with his palm, ever so lightly, his eyes capturing hers.
Oh, God. She ached for more. Needed so much more.
He nibbled her hip, ran his tongue lower. She quivered and waited. Flushed with heat, crazy with desire, she could never have held still for him.
His tongue was doing crazy things to her senses. Her nipples were so tight, her lower belly tighter. Every cell in her tensed in anticipation.
Gently his fingers parted her slick folds. And still he made her wait.
He blew tiny puffs of air on her. She needed his touch. She yearned for friction.
“More,” she demanded.
Instead, he gave her a featherlight caress with the tip of his tongue.
“Please, Cade.” Panting, she ached for him to claim her.
His two big hands clasped her bottom. He
tipped her hips up.
And when his mouth closed over her, the heat brought an instant orgasm, so bright and shiny and hard that she cried out with the pleasure of it.
But Cade chuckled into her and nibbled, teased, licked. He felt so good. Too good. In no time at all, he had her back on the edge of bliss.
“Cade, please. I want you inside me.”
When she thought that if he took one more kiss of pleasure that she’d collapse in a heap, he finally allowed her to sag onto the bed, bringing him down along with her. She landed on her back, with him atop her, his hips centered firmly against hers.
Sensing he was about to enter her, she tried to reverse their positions. She wanted to be on top. She wanted to ride him long and hard. She wanted to watch his eyes darken with excitement and cloud with passion.
But she also had no intention of accidently making the paparazzi’s headlines predicting her pregnancy become a reality. “Birth control?”
“I took a pill before I left that prevents me from becoming a father.”
“What about disease?”
“We don’t have those kinds of problems on Rama.”
“Great.” So she flexed her hips to roll them. She might as well have tried to rock a tiger.
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Is there something you want?”
“You. On your back. Under me.”
He shot her a wolfish grin. Complied with her request.
Delighted, she took him into her, inch by inch. Watched moisture glisten on his forehead. Watched the pulse at his neck throb. Watched his nipples tighten. But most of all she enjoyed the curve of his mouth that let her know he was enjoying himself as much as she was.
Oh . . . my. The man was totally yummy. And right now he was all hers.
When she took him all the way into her, his fullness stretched her wide and caressed all the right places. After a subtle tilt of her hips, every stroke of his sex aroused her. Long, slow, strokes heated her. When his hands again closed over her breasts and tweaked her nipples, she exploded in a spasm that broke long and hard and left her breathless.
Gasping for air, she opened her eyes to find him watching her with sexy delight. She tightened her muscles to find him still hard inside her. Learning that he’d outlasted her and remained good to go, she chuckled at her good fortune. “Wow.”
“You’re a very passionate woman.”
“Yes. I am.” She grinned, wriggled her hips, and began to move again. This time she pumped her hips faster. Took him deeper. Already so sensitive, her tension gathered once more, swirling, cresting. As if he understood that she was ready to climax again, he reached between her parted thighs, found her sweet spot, and she shattered.
Aftershocks kept her edgy.
And still he remained hard.
If he didn’t find her exciting enough to orgasm then she wasn’t giving him what he wanted. He’d pleased her so much, she wanted to do the same for him.
“What do you want?” She asked him the same question he’d asked her.
“To be on top.”
She laughed as he answered her the same way she had him. “All right.”
She expected to change positions and remain face-to-face. But instead, he gathered up every pillow on the bed, stacked them in a pile, and bent her over them. Her backside was in the air. He parted her legs. Wide.
And then he waited.
She tried to turn to look at him, but he’d locked her down again.
Oh, my.
She held her breath, waiting for him to do something.
His hands petted her bottom. “You are so beautiful.”
At his compliment heat curled in her belly. She felt naughty. Sexy. Raw.
And his hand stroking her cheeks had her wrapped up so tight she couldn’t breathe.
“I’m going to bite you,” he warned. And then he nipped her butt cheek.
“Ow.”
“Now I’m going to lick away the sting.”
In her mind she was squirming, but he had her holding still for him.
He bit her again.
“Ow.” She fisted the sheets in her hands, expected him to lick away the sting again.
But he nipped her again and started a fire she’d hadn’t felt before.
He bit again. She complained again. “Ow. Ow. Ow.”
And this time his fingers worked their magic between her thighs. His teeth gave her tiny jolts of pain all over her bottom.
And amazing pleasure between her legs.
“Ow . . . Ah . . . Oh, Oh . . . OOOOOh . . .” She was on fire. Panting. So hot that she was going to explode.
And then he stopped. Left her hanging. She gulped. “Why are you waiting . . .”
“’Cause this is fun.” His playful arrogance stunned her. “Isn’t it?”
Dazed with passion, his answer shocked her. Before she could form a coherent response, his hands started caressing her hot bottom, and she couldn’t think at all. Not beyond wondering what crazy wonderful thing he’d do next.
This time, he didn’t make her wait. He placed his hot mouth between her legs and blew air over her, into her. Her fingers clutched the sheets as her flesh plumped and slicked at the new sensations. She would have squirmed, but his mind and his hands on her hips held her right where he wanted her. She couldn’t close her legs, not with him kneeling between her knees. She could do nothing but take whatever he wanted to give.
Crazy with taut tension, she shattered. Not once. Not twice. But three times.
Creamy moisture seeped between her legs, and he smoothed it over her bottom, massaging her cheeks, then nipping her neck, he reached forward to tweak her nipples. She could no more escape the tiny bites and his fingers tight on her nipples than she could anything else.
But she was suddenly frantic to have him again, wild with need. She lifted her hips higher, waved her bottom from side to side, but he kept nipping and licking and stroking, his hands on her breasts keeping her bent over the pillows. Exactly as he wanted.
Moans of pleasure ripped from her throat. She couldn’t believe she’d was again desperate for release. She practically sobbed his name. “Cade.” Her voice broke, muffled into the mattress. “Cade. Now. I must have you now.”
At her words, he thrust into her, hard and deep. He rode her, stoking a wildness that she didn’t recognize. The tension gathered, united into a tight ball of fire, expanded, then ruptured in a torrent that arched from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
A hoarse scream ripped from her throat, matching a primal grunt of pleasure pouring from his. This time, he spurted with her, his fingers finding her center, wringing every ounce of pleasure from the moment.
And oh what a moment.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Pure bliss engulfed her, wrapped around her, and swept her away.
Every muscle in her body had melted. She hadn’t known a body could be this relaxed without being asleep or drugged. Moving seemed too much trouble, but as if being with her another second caused him pain, Cade practically leaped from the bed.
Stunned, she opened her eyes to watch his magnificent body pad into the oversized bathroom. Shara expected him to be as relaxed as she was. But his jaw clenched with fury, his big hands closed into fists.
“Cade?”
“Later.” He snapped the word like a whip. But that one word conveyed a load of self-loathing that made her feel his pain.
Rolling onto her side, she wound the sheet around her and began to follow him, confused over what had gone wrong. As her thoughts cleared, she wondered if it might be a better decision to let him cool off.
Because as incredible as the lovemaking had been, there were too many times where he’d taken control with his Quait. And she’d been totally helpless. She recalled a moment when he hadn’t allowed her to speak. Many others when she hadn’t been able to move.
Talk about domination. Hands down, it had been the best sex of her life.
Sitting up, she dropp
ed her face into her hands.
Think.
Every time she’d thought they’d reached a plateau, he’d urged her up another peak. And the glorious ascent couldn’t compare to the leap off the summit.
Shara had known women who enjoyed a man’s domination. She’d known women who enjoyed all kinds of sexual games. But she wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t into kink or perversions. Shara was a farm girl who didn’t think her tastes were much different from middle America, where she’d been born.
So she found Cade’s ability . . . strange . . . disturbing. But her reaction to it shocked her to her core. Because she’d liked it. Liked it a lot.
All that waiting, all that anticipation had added to her enjoyment a hundredfold.
And yet—suppose she hadn’t liked it? Would her desire have changed anything he’d done? She didn’t know.
Her hands still trembled. Her mind was hazy. And the afterglow was something else. She’d never felt so good or so confused in her life.
She’d have to think long and hard before encouraging him to make love to her again.
They needed to talk.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that more time had passed than she’d thought. And they still had to eat. Picking up the vidlink, she ordered room service.
Taking a deep breath, she followed Cade into the bathroom. The way he’d peeled out of that bed, she wasn’t certain he’d even welcome her presence.
Too damn bad.
The man had just made insanely hot love to her. If he had issues, he’d have to deal with them.
27
Cade stood in the shower, the hot water sluicing over him. He’d scrub his skin to the bone if it could rid him of what he was becoming. A man whose Quait had dominated a woman during lovemaking. A monster.
Unfortunately, soap and water wouldn’t solve his problems. The only way to stop his transformation was to stop ingesting so much salt. But if he did, he would never be a match for Jamar’s full-powered strength. How ironic that unless he accepted the evil he was becoming, he couldn’t stop the evil from preying on his people.