He grew longer and thicker as she shifted her weight, aware of his cock, which was growing against the cleft of her sex. He wanted to tie her up and keep her with him all night long. He wanted those chocolate brown eyes on him as he went down on her, and he wanted her nails in his shoulders and her screams in his ear.
He wanted her awakened to him and the kind of pleasure he could give her.
Closing his eyes, Bran eased his body against hers. He wouldn’t mind sliding into her this way, with his face in her hair, the long silky strands cocooning him as he slowly thrust his cock into her. He’d enjoy the slow slide as he whispered sex words and took her with his hard body. He imagined it, sliding his thick length into her, opening the petals of her sex as he thrust in. He’d fill his big hands with her breasts and watch as her lips parted on a moan.
He imagined the sounds she’d make as he shoved up into her; the way her breath would escape as she shuddered atop him. He saw her head thrown back as she let herself go, let herself be taken by him, and the image had him in knots—and leaking. The tip of his cock was wet and a drop of pre- come dribbled down his shaft.
“Are you wet, Mairi?” She gulped, and he slid his finger down the column of her throat. “Are you thinking of us together?”
She blinked rapidly, but didn’t answer.
“Are you thinking of my fingers inside you? My tongue?”
“I know I shouldn’t,” she murmured even as he watched her nipples bead beneath her top.
“But can you resist? Can you leave tonight not knowing what it is like to be pleasured by me? To be fucked by me?”
She gasped as his palms slid up her thighs to the zipper of her jeans, where he brushed his fingers over the metal in an unmistakable invitation.
“We may still be strangers, Mairi, but we won’t be when we’re done. We’ll be as intimate as any man and woman could be. Let me be the first stranger you have, Mairi.”
He saw the struggle in her eyes, the will to deny what she was feeling. Brushing his fingers along her denim-clad sex, he said, “Tell me you don’t want me. That you’re not already wet and aching, and I’ll leave you.”
“I wish I could. But the truth is . . . I want to feel you inside me. Deep inside.”
“Is that a yes, Mairi?”
She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. “That’s a you’d-better-hurry-up-before-I-change-my-mind yes.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
They stood before a mirror. The room Bran had taken her to was dark, lit only with black candles. In the reflection of the glass, Bran stood behind her, watching her, his gaze skating over her body. She couldn’t believe she was here with him, prepared to have sex with him. It was so out of character for her, but she could not have denied him for anything. She was simply dying to feel him naked on top of her, his cock in her hand and between her thighs.
It might bring disaster, but right now nothing in the world seemed more right than to be here with Bran, giving in to the sexual fantasy that had ruled her dreams for weeks. With him she had forgotten about the voice from last night and the fear that had overwhelmed her. She’d forgotten about seeing Suriel again tonight. With the first touch of his hands on her she had felt healed. Safe.
“Is it still yes, Mairi?”
Her gaze flew to his in the mirror. He was asking her, giving her another chance. With a nod, she answered him.
She watched the descent of his stare in the mirror, saw his hand leave his side as he reached for her hair and pushed it back over her shoulder. God, she had never felt this hot, this reckless before. She was literally trembling and he hadn’t even touched her yet.
Her eyes closed as his fingers trailed along her neck. The hum she felt when he touched her made her skin hot and tight.
His finger left her throat and trailed down her shirt, where it traced the darkened circle of her areola. The nipple puckered, begging for his touch.
The hum in his body took over hers. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She wanted him touching her, his hands all over her skin. She wanted him above her, taking her hard. She should be afraid of this, of these foreign emotions inside her, yet somehow she knew that Bran would not hurt her.
“I want to make you feel pleasure, bliss,” he whispered as he brushed his lips along her collarbone.
He pulled her shirt and bra up and over her head, dropping them on the floor. Then he cupped her breasts as he stood behind her. Pressing them together, he kneaded, watching her expression in the mirror. He knew she liked it, and he teased her by skimming his fingertips over her nipples, making them harder. She wanted to beg for his mouth on them, but then he released her and moved his hand down between the valley of her breasts, his skin so dark against hers. His palm slipped lower, to the buttons of her jeans. Deftly he undid them and pulled them down, along with her panties. She stood before him completely naked, watching in the mirror as he looked her over, and yearned for his hands to travel along her body.
Without a word he hooked her thigh up over his, exposing her fully to the reflection of the mirror. Her breasts bounced and he caught one in his hand. Sliding the flat of his palm along her nipple, he teased her until she was arching up and digging her nails into his leather- clad thighs. With his other hand, he spread her sex. Wetness glistened between the pink folds, reminding her of the orchids. And suddenly, she knew exactly what he had meant by them.
“You’re beautiful, Mairi. And I want you. Everything that’s begging for release inside you, I want it.”
Mairi suddenly found herself lying on the bed. Above her was Bran, his long, dark hair cocooning them, and his mismatched eyes glowing in the dim candlelight. A five- o’clock shadow crested his chin and upper lip, making him look dangerous . . . and desirable. Her gaze strayed lower, from his full, hard lips, down his neck and the thick cording of his throat, to the twining lines tattooed there, gold and pewter with touches of green. She traced them to where they disappeared beneath his shirt.
He overwhelmed her a bit with his intensity, with his hard body, with the tattoos and leather. Yet she had never been more turned on. She wanted him, and in ways that she had never wanted her other boyfriends. But most important, she trusted him.
He traced her mouth with the tip of his calloused finger, the roughness arousing. Mairi watched as his gaze followed the path of his finger down her body. His eyes, fathomless in their depths, left no part of her unstudied. She squirmed beneath that gaze, fearing every aspect of her was being scrutinized and judged.
“Easy,” he whispered, his thumb brushing her bottom lip in a fluttery sweep. “Let me commit you to memory.”
“Why?” she asked breathlessly.
“Because I want to remember you this way for eternity.” God, he was perfect. Not even her dreams were this hot. She could actually feel the moist heat growing thick between her legs.
“It would be a beautiful thing to see the moonlight illuminate your body as you lie naked beside me. You’d look so right in the forest, beneath the trees . . .”
Mairi was completely undone by what she saw shining in his eyes.
“Let me give to you. Take from you,” he whispered darkly. His mouth covered hers and he kissed her, nipping at her lips as his hand cupped the side of her neck. Gently he eased her back against the pillow and slipped his tongue inside her mouth, licking, caressing, teasing, but his desire was banked. Mairi felt the tension in him as she slid her hands up his arms and over his back. The black cotton of his shirt shifted and stretched over the thick muscles. She felt their shifting beneath her palms and found herself wishing she could be caged by him and his strength. She wanted him to let go, to unleash all that raw power she sensed in him. Instead, he was holding back.
Why?
He continued to kiss her until she could no longer think. Over and over his mouth moved atop hers as his hand slowly slid down her neck, till his palm came to rest against her heart. Lower still, sliding over the crest of her breast until it lay flat over her nipple. She caught h
er breath as the heat from his hand swamped her. The vibration in his body hummed, pitching higher and higher, and she arched into his hand, her nipple tightening as he ran his thumb over it. He plucked at it, taking it between his thumb and forefinger, alternating between rolling it and pulling it. She moaned, and he swallowed the sound, growling, the vibration in him getting stronger as he stole her breath.
Mairi had never been kissed like this—so deeply, so thoroughly. Her lungs burned and she broke off the kiss, panting, arching her neck as she ran her trembling fingers through his long hair. His lips brushed her chin, then her neck. She felt the warm, wet tip of his tongue as he trailed it along the column of her throat, then flicked the fluttering pulse at the base, sending goose bumps slithering along her spine. Restlessly her legs slid along the slippery sheets as he began to suckle her throat, making her hips roll and lift in greedy anticipation.
“That’s it.” He rocked his pelvis into her belly, making her feel how hard and long he was beneath his pants. “Show me where you want me to go, how you want me to take you there.”
She saw through hooded eyelids that he was watching to see how her body responded to his touch. He rocked against her once more, swiveling his hips, pushing his erection into the softness of her belly. That strange current in him flowed, and her body took it in. It was like having an orgasm, feeling those extraordinary vibrations beneath his skin. It was a delicious feeling and it made her wonder how much more exquisite the sensations would be when he plunged into her.
Mairi felt the warmth of his hand slide up to her breast, as if knowing what she desired. She felt the electric shock of his finger circling the sensitive areola. Her nipple immediately tightened. Her back arched, the vibrations stronger, more rhythmic, despite the slowness of his finger stroking against her.
He pulled at her, pinching then brushing, heightening then soothing. She heard his breath—ragged—felt the heat of his mouth bathing her throat, and she reached for him, raking her nails down his back.
His cock was hard and insistent, and she wanted it inside her, along with those strange vibrations that kept coming in waves off his body. She was delirious with need now. It was the only explanation for the hum she felt.
“I want you—now,” she demanded, clawing at his back, craving the intensity of the vibrations her body was absorbing.
He dragged his lip across the hard tip, once, twice, then glanced up from her breast. His eyes were glinting like precious metals. In the center, where the pupil should have been, was a dot of liquid silver. It shone like a diamond, twinkling at her.
He captured her gaze and held it while he lowered his chin and dragged his bottom lip once more across her nipple, sending shooting sparks of longing to her core. He bit her gently, teasingly. She scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. The way he watched her totally turned her on.
In truth, she was so close, and when it happened, she was going to come like a bomb. She just knew it, the way her body was lighting up for him. Good Lord, she was panting now, as if she’d run a marathon. She couldn’t catch her breath, and every time she looked down, it was to see Bran tonguing her nipple.
He cupped her in his palm, squeezing, watching the flesh spill out of his hand. Then he brought it to his mouth, capturing the nipple gently between his teeth. Mairi held her breath . . . waiting. He glanced up, caught her gaze, then slipped the aching bud inside, sucking her deep until she moaned and thrashed her legs on the bed.
His fingers ran down her hip and thigh till she felt his broad fingers sliding up the inside of her leg. “I can smell your core. I want to taste it.”
Yes! Her legs parted of their own will, allowing him more room to stroke her. He teased her by drawing his finger down her soft hair and tracing the contours of her folds. Then he parted her, drawing his thumb along her, dampening her flesh, spreading the thickening wetness.
“You flow heavy for me, muirnin.” Then he brought his finger to his mouth and licked. “And you taste so right for me.”
No one had ever done anything like that. No one had ever said anything so erotic, so blood-curdlingly sexy. No one had ever looked at her quite the way Bran was looking at her—like he wanted to devour her.
The vibration in him increased, and she looked down between their bodies to find him studying her. She waited, holding her breath as he slowly slid his finger along her plump crease, watching as his finger disappeared between her folds.
“I can hear your heart beating, Mairi, can feel it even here, at your core. It’s beating so fast, like the wings of a humming-bird. It’s speeding up, isn’t it, the longer you wait, the longer you anticipate this?”
She nodded, feeling her heart skip a beat as he pressed closer to her, his mouth grazing her sensitized flesh.
“Do you trust me, Mairi?”
She held his head in her hand, pushing forward, needing his mouth on her. “Yes.”
“Do you trust me enough to let go, because that’s how I want you, free and wild, writhing as I go down on you.”
She could do that. Most definitely. She could be wild. Hell, she was nearly there.
He found her clitoris and flicked it. The motion, combined with the strange vibration in his touch, sent her over the edge. His lips set fire to her, as he spread her wide and licked her all over, leaving no inch of her sex un lapped by his incredibly skilled tongue.
She screamed and arched, holding him to her as she shook beneath his mouth. She probably should have been mortified by how easily she came, but she couldn’t think of that. All she could think about were the amazing sensations of her orgasm—then the fleeting disappointment that she hadn’t waited to feel more, because she was certain that Bran could definitely have taken her even higher.
She collapsed against the pillows, spent, breathing heavily. He kissed her inner thigh, dragging his tongue up the length of her, before his head fell to her navel. He nuzzled her with his warm lips as his fingers played with her sex.
He was definitely not finished with her. Thank God!
“Mairi?”
“Hmm?”
“Undress me. I need to be naked with you.”
CHAPTER NINE
Banging on the door jolted them both from the sensual haze hovering between them. With a curse, Bran was off of her and striding to the door before she could cover herself with her shirt. With a fierce pull, he inched the door open.
“What do you want?” he snarled with a sound that seemed inhuman.
“We got issues downstairs.”
“Not my problem.”
A hand shot out and landed on the door, preventing Bran from slamming it shut. “It sure as hell is your problem—it’s her friend.”
With a sinking feeling, Mairi knew what was happening. “I’m coming,” she called as she clutched her shirt to her chest. Rhys MacDonald averted his eyes and turned his back as she got dressed, but he stayed in the hall, his stance telling her that he was pissed off and in a hurry. She should be horrified by how she must appear to him, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She had Rowan to be concerned about.
“Is she having a seizure?” Mairi asked as she pulled on her pants.
“No, why? Does she have those?” the man asked, sounding alarmed.
“Yeah. So if she’s not seizing, is she stumbling around muttering incoherently?”
“She’s walking around like a zombie.” The man’s gaze slid to where Bran stood, scowling. “Talking about Morgan and hellhounds.”
Mairi saw Bran visibly jump. “Let’s go,” he commanded, all but pulling her from the bed. She was rumpled and her hair was a mess, but at least she was dressed. Bran didn’t give her a chance to make herself presentable. He pulled her along the dark hallway, almost dragging her behind him.
“Hurry, before it is too late.”
“Too late? Too late for what?” she gasped, pulling away from him. Something dark and scary curled in her belly. “What the hell has Sayer done to her?”
He turned and glared at her
. “You said you trusted me.” “I did. Now I’m thinking I might have been wrong. Was it your plan to separate us so that your friend could hurt Rowan and you could do whatever the hell you wanted with me?”
His glare turned glacial; his mismatched eyes actually looked as though they were churning up one hell of a storm. “There was no plan.”
He touched her face and his gaze softened. “We’ll talk about what happened later. First we have to see to your friend.”
Reaching for her hand, Bran tugged her along, down the carpeted steps to the main floor. Skirting the dance floor, they made a left, then another quick left away from the lounges and the bar, and down a dark hall.
A door was suddenly thrown open and Mairi saw Rowan pacing, her jade-colored eyes wide. She was ranting like a madwoman about dogs, fog, and black magick.
“Honey, it’s Mairi.” But like always, Rowan didn’t hear her. “It’s okay,” she soothed, reaching for Rowan’s hands. “I’m here, and I won’t leave you.”
“A house of mourning, a garden of pain, a path of tears. This is where you will find the first key.”
“I know,” Mairi whispered, hugging her friend. Rowan always said something about a key, but who or what she was talking about remained a mystery, a vision only she could see. Mairi had tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but always came up empty. The only thing they had to go on was a sketch Rowan had drawn during one of her visions. It didn’t look like any sort of key either of them had seen. In fact, it didn’t look like a key at all.
“Before you arrived, she said hellhounds were coming, coming to tear apart the raven,” Sayer murmured to Bran.
“What would a mor—” Bran stopped midsentence, glanced at her. He didn’t finish what he had started to say.
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