He would be moving, thrusting hard and fast to her center.
Caressing the tops of his shoulders, she sent prickles of pleasure through him. “So you gonna show me now?”
“Are you ready to let me?”
Fisting her hands in his hair, she rocked against him. “God yes. So ready.”
“Then ask me nicely.” One hand beneath her bottom, Ivar drew the other along the outside of her thigh. Using the wall for leverage, he cupped the back of her knee, pushed it up and out, opening her wider. Her breath hitched as he slid all the way home, burying himself to the hilt inside her. “Beg me for the pleasure.”
Caught between him and the wall, she twitched. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Dead serious.”
“I don’t beg.”
“You will with me.” Swirling his hips, he gave her a taste, teasing her with the promise of pleasure. She moaned, the sound so full of need Ivar almost gave in. Almost...but not quite. Call him a bastard, but he wanted her to surrender. All the way. No holds barred. Desire unleashed—her craving him as much as he did her, so...fuck it. He would hold her on the razor’s edge. Refuse to provide what she demanded until he got what he needed first. “Give me my due, Sasha, and I’ll give you yours.”
Silence expanded a second before her lips parted. Her sharp inhale signaled shock. The excitement in her eyes indicated something else—deep seated arousal. The kind no female could resist. Ivar’s mouth curved. Good girl, his ass. Sasha might like to pretend, but she enjoyed a good tussle. Was getting off on his dominant nature and the thought of what he might make her do. Which meant...
Time to add more fuel to her fire.
His gaze locked on hers, Ivar grasped her elbows. With a quick shift, he pumped his hips and shackled her wrists in one hand. As she gasped, arching into the half-thrust, he pinned her arms to the wall above her head, and leaned away.
His chest left her breasts. Cool air rushed in, raising goose bumps on her skin. He flexed his spine, pressing between the spread of her thighs. She keened, begging him without words to take her. But he needed the words, so instead of setting a steady rhythm, he dipped his head and—
“Oh my God!”
Bathing her in heat, Ivar licked her nipple again. Spine bowed in supplication, unable to move, she moaned. Showing no mercy, he settled in, suckling the gorgeous bud, fanning her flames, prepping her to beg. Panting now, she pulsed deep inside, tightening around him and...oh yeah. She was close. So fucking close. Almost ready to forsake her pride, so needy she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. Circling the tight tip with his tongue, he switched sides to lavish its mate with equal attention.
Muscles quivering, Sasha squirmed in desperation.
“Submit, kitten.” Ivar sucked harder, drawing out the pleasure. “Ask me nicely.”
He nipped her gently. Her breath caught. “Please.”
“Say my name.”
“Please, Ivar.”
The throaty plea unleashed him. The principles holding him in check snapped.
With a snarl, he released her hands, raised his head, and invaded her mouth. She met him halfway, tangling their tongues, tasting him deep as he withdrew and came back. He set a fast pace, riding her hard, gauging her pleasure, feeding her bliss one mind-blowing thrust at a time. And Sasha...God, she didn’t disappoint. Passion incarnate, she met him stroke for stoke. Long legs wrapped around his waist, she sent her clever hands roaming, heightening his delight with her touch, egging him on with the sounds she made, deepening his possession with each flex and release of her hips.
Glorious friction. Incredible heat. Beautiful oblivion.
Unlike any he’d ever experienced.
Heart pounding, Ivar groaned as the pressure mounted. Sasha cried out, begging him to push her over the edge. He upped the pace, driving her toward climax. Time stretched, one second spilling into the next. Ecstasy whiplashed, and she exploded, throbbing hard around him. Gritting his teeth, Ivar tried to hold on—to prolong the pleasure and her bliss—but she came again. And then again, squeezing him so tight he lost control. With a roar, Ivar detonated, cresting on a wave of delight so devastating he forgot everything. Past, present and future ceased to exist. In that moment, nothing mattered but her. Her scent on his skin. Him deep inside her. The beat of her heart and the awe in her voice as she gasped his name, and he sank to the floor with her in his arms.
CHAPTER FOUR
Naked and tangled up with a man, Sasha lay on the floor in her kitchen, trying to catch her breath. Opening her eyes would be good too, but...God. One thing at a time. A girl could only manage so much. Recovery after the great sex—and three explosive orgasms—after all, took more than just a few minutes. Almost seven, as it turned out. Cracking her eyes open, she hugged Ivar closer, and raising her head off the braided rug, glanced toward the oven display. A blurry collection of numbers wavered in her line of sight. She blinked, hoping to clear her vision and...
The digital clock sprang into focus.
Uh-huh. She had lift off along with an accurate post-sex count. Forget seven. They’d just rounded the corner and hit the nine minute mark. Kind of nice, actually. She liked the feel of his arms around her. Was enjoying the cuddle along with the fact she lay half beneath him, one leg slung over his jean-clad hip, her hand still buried in his hair, his face pressed against the side of her throat. Sasha sighed and let her head fall back onto the rug. Lord, he was beautiful. So strong in all the right places. Great in bed too. A serious bonus considering her orgasm deprived status. Oh, wait. Make that past tense, ’cause...wow. In one round, he’d given her a crazy amount of pleasure. Almost more than she’d been able to handle.
Not that she was complaining.
She’d needed a shove to get past her shyness. And a man who knew what he was doing. Ivar had provided both the push and the pleasure, wielding his expertise without mercy, making her meet him head-on, encouraging her to let go and bare all. Which explained why she was naked and Ivar still wore his pants...and boots. The realization tickled her funny bone. Her mouth curved against the top of his shoulder. God, she was shameless, a real—
“What’s so funny?” he asked, nuzzling her pulse point.
Sasha shivered in delight. “Just reflecting.”
He raised his head. Brushing the damp hair away from her temple, he met her gaze. “On?”
“How good you are at this.”
“Sex?” When she nodded, satisfaction flashed in his eyes, making pink irises touched by gold shimmer a little. A trick of the light, no doubt, but...Sasha bit her bottom lip. The glimmer was still odd, more than a touch left of center. Lowering his lashes, he stared at her lips, hesitated a moment as though uncertain, then dipped his head. His mouth brushed hers. She opened, inviting him in, returning his kiss with a hum. “Hmm, well...” Nipping her gently, he pressed his thigh between her own and retreated just enough to look at her. “I’ve had lots of practice.”
“Thank God for that.”
He laughed, straight teeth flashing in the low light.
His delight triggered hers. Feeling lighter of spirit than she had in ages, she grinned at him. “Are you hungry?”
“For you...yes.”
She huffed, so pleased with him she could hardly contain it. “I meant for food.”
“Got any ice cream?”
“I’m a woman, Ivar,” she said, tracing the ridge of his cheekbone with her fingertips. “I always have ice cream.”
Amusement in his eyes, he shook his head. Palming his shoulder, Sasha gave him a playful shove. He complied, rolling off her and onto his back. She shifted in a hurry, and pressing her hand to his chest, popped to her feet. She landed without making a sound, one foot planted on either side of his hips, and stood over him. The position smacked of dominance. Something Sasha knew she would never be but...hmm. It was nice to pretend, if only for a moment. Especially with Ivar staring at her. His expression said it all. He found her beautiful. Liked too that she stood he
r ground, refusing to let shyness win, allowing him to look his fill. And he did, leaving none of her untouched as his gaze roamed over her breasts and belly, tracking south over private curls.
Her breath caught as his mouth parted. Anticipation tightened its grip, rumbling through her as she read his intent. The heat in his eyes gave it away. Now she knew what he was thinking. Next time he made love to her it wouldn’t happen fast. Which meant, he’d have plenty of time to do what his gaze promised and...
Taste the curls between her thighs.
“Ice cream first,” he murmured, giving her the distinct impression he’d just read her mind.
The thought circled inside her head, but lost speed when Ivar planted a hand on the floor and pushed to his feet. Taut muscles flexed in an impressive show of strength. Sasha bit the inside of her lip and stepped back, giving him room to maneuver in the small space, but didn’t look away. Mercy, he was something. A rare sight with his bare chest on display and button-fly wide open, jeans hanging low on his lean hips.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” she whispered, mouth running away with her brain.
“All the better to please you with, my dear.”
Sasha rolled her eyes and turned toward the fridge. “Turning into the big bad wolf, are you?”
“Maybe,” he murmured from right behind her. So close. Barely an inch away. Within striking distance while he played the big bad wolf to perfection, crowding her without touching. Warm and minty sweet, his breath ghosted across the nape of her neck. Frissons of awareness exploded down her spine, making Sasha conscious of how much bigger he was than her. And that he could hurt her...if she let him. “Would you like that, Sasha?”
“I don’t like it rough,” she said, reaching for the freezer handle. A hard tug, and the door opened with a suctioning hiss. Nerve endings on fire, throat gone tight, Sasha grabbed a pint of strawberry ice cream, then glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze collided with his. She warned him with a look. “Don’t go there, Ivar.”
Mischief and something more—respect maybe?—flared in his eyes. “Fair enough, kitten.”
She pointed to the cabinets behind him. “Spoons...third drawer from the right.”
With a nod, he turned toward the peninsula and went hunting. Silverware rattled in the utensil tray. The drawer closed with a bang. With a quick pivot, Ivar spun back toward her, and grabbing hold, picked her up. Sasha yelped as her feet left the floor. She bobbled the ice cream, playing hot potato with the cold container as he swung her into his arms. Cradled against him, she opened her mouth to protest. Ivar shook his head and put himself in gear. Five strides took them into the living room. Skirting the armchair, he sidestepped the coffee table, and doing an about face, sat in the middle of the couch. Plump cushions sighed, accepting his weight as he settled her astride him—bottom against his thighs, knees hugging his hips, core pressed to his button-fly.
Surprise stepped aside, making room for arousal. Sasha blinked. “Wow.”
“Quick when I want to be, Sasha.”
No kidding. Downright sneaky too...in a hot caveman kind of way.
The devil in his eyes, he held hers for a moment, then reached out, and took the Haagen Dazs out of her hand. Popping the top, he dug in, creating the perfect pink curl on the spoon. Presenting it to her, he offered her the first bite. She accepted without hesitation, and hand cupping his forearm, hummed in bliss as strawberry flavored perfection hit her taste buds. Watching her eat, Ivar fed himself from the same spoon. Such an intimate gesture. One Sasha wasn’t sure how to handle. He was a stranger, but...she frowned. Weird, but for some reason, he didn’t feel like one. He felt familiar and safe. Good in a way she didn’t understand and couldn’t explain. As though, she’d known him all her life.
Ivar fed her another spoonful. She moaned in culinary delight.
His lips twitched as he eyed the table across the room. “What’s with all the bats?”
Licking ice cream off her lip, Sasha followed his line of sight. Her gaze landed on her work station. Shoved up against the far wall, the large table doubling as her desk bowed beneath open text books, piles of maps, her laptop and...oh, yeah. A few bats—three full endoskeletons to be exact—mounted on wooden supports. “Research. My latest project.”
Twirling the spoon in his hand, he raised a brow. “What kind?”
Passionate about her field of study, she didn’t mind his curiosity. Or shrug off his interest. She loved talking about her job. “I’m an ecologist with the Department of Fish and Wildlife. I work as a wildlife conservationist. Right now, I’m tracking bats, trying to nail down numbers...animal population, breeding grounds, the effect of environmental erosion on different bat species nesting in the state.”
“Important work,” he said, taking another bite.
An understatement. Huge in so many ways. Particularly since bats affected the agricultural industry, keeping insect populations in check for farmers. All of which impacted the economy. Strange, sure, but true nonetheless. The domino effect came into play with the environment involved. Fewer bats equaled more pests, and that in turn, diminished crop count, the amount of food that made it onto store shelves and people’s tables.
Direct correlation. Big impact.
“Difficult work, but I’m making headway,” Sasha said with a shrug. “I landed some important funding this week...a couple of big companies have agreed to help pay for the project. Pretty significant. One of my goals is to bring everyone together over the issue. Conservation needs to be a community effort...individuals, corporations and big government all working together to safeguard the environment.”
“You’re trying to change the world.”
“One bat at a time.”
“Jesus, Sasha,” he murmured, awe in his voice. “You’re amazing...just fucking incredible.”
The compliment sank deep, making her chest go tight. He meant it. Every single word. His tone, the look in his eyes, didn’t lie. He respected what she was trying to do and...oh mercy. She was in trouble. So much for her wham, bam, thank you man attitude. Ivar was ruining her get-out-quick-in-the-morning mentality by being so freaking nice. Which meant she should kick him out...right now. Before things got serious and the night went to hell in a hand-basket. But as she held his gaze—heart pounding, admiration and need for him rising—Sasha committed the cardinal sin of one night stands. She whispered his name, and stepping away from smart, leaned in to kiss him stupid instead.
CHAPTER FIVE
Flaked out on the couch in the smallest living room he’d ever seen, Ivar watched Sasha sleep. Eyes closed, tucked up against his side, her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His throat went tight as he studied her face. Precious kitten. So fragile in his arms. So trusting in his presence. Such a gift to his battle-hardened senses. More than he’d expected—or deserved. Fate, though, worked in mysterious ways, ensuring he collided with Sasha when he needed her most. In the space of a few hours, she’d done what no one else ever had and lifted the heaviness inside his heart. Banished the shadows too, helping him forget his despair...if only for a little while.
Strange in every way that counted.
He didn’t do emotion. Not in the traditional sense anyway. Closed off from the world, he’d thought himself immune, far removed from matters of the heart. With her, though, he couldn’t stem the tide of tenderness. She touched him in ways he didn’t understand. He enjoyed her wit. Liked her feistiness and that she stood her ground. Whenever he pushed, she shoved back, putting him in his place, refusing to tolerate disrespect, making him aware he didn’t want to show her any. Another revelation. One of many firsts tonight. Hell, he held a whole mitt-full at the moment, all the novel things she made him feel. The most startling one still surprised him. Gratefulness. He was so damned thankful she’d invited him in, allowed him into her home, into her arms and body, treating him like a normal male.
Him...a male most women avoided like the plague.
To be expected. He wasn’t anyone’s idea of a
nice guy. His track record spoke volumes. History and circumstance had shaped him, dictating the path, honing his skills, making him into who he needed to be in order to survive. But here, right now, with her in his arms, Ivar wanted to be something else. Something more. A better male even though he knew it would come back to bite him. The certainty of it made him cringe. Yet even as he acknowledged what must be done, Ivar refused to do it. He couldn’t kill her to cover his tracks. Couldn’t do what he’d done to so many others—use his magic to drain her energy, the essence of her life-force—and live with himself afterward. His conscience, long quiet, but obviously alive, wouldn’t let him.
Not after all she’d given him tonight.
Trailing his fingers over her jaw, he changed course to caress the curve of her cheek. Her eyelashes flickered, but she didn’t wake. Exhausted from his loving, Sasha remained deep in slumber, recovering from his possession, all the pleasure he’d lavished on her in the wee hours. Every ounce he’d taken too. But it was over now and—
A pang echoed behind his breastbone.
The heaviness returned, making his chest ache. Ivar sighed, and caressing Sasha one last time, slid his arms from around her. Time to go. He couldn’t stay. The sun was almost up. Ten minutes tops, and dawn would arrive, leaving him vulnerable. At the mercy of deadly ultra-violet rays. Sasha wouldn’t understand the weakness that kept him inside during the day. Nor did he plan on sticking around to explain it. The less she knew about his lineage—and Dragonkind—the safer she would be, so...yeah. Enough with the sap routine. Mourning the end of the night, and the loss of her, wasn’t his style.
Hit hard. Leave fast. His motto, and exactly the way he liked to operate.
Fury of Fate: A Dragonfury Short Story Page 4