Jericho's Revenge

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by S. K. Yule


  He tasted of feral male and spice. Her lip bled from his demanding kisses, and she bit his in return, putting her own mark on his skin. They both groaned at their mingled essence, his tongue teased at the seam of her mouth before sliding in to begin an erotic dance with her own. She reached for his head as he pushed a hand under the shirt she had taken from his room and cupped her breast.

  He groaned. “Mmm. No bra.” He pinched her nipple then rolled it between his fingers, and she arched into him, begging for more. He ripped the front open and fastened his mouth to the peak, sucking it deep. She moaned and gripped his head to her in encouragement.

  “Couldn’t.” Gasp. “Find.” Pant. “It.”

  “Good. I don’t ever want you to wear one again.” She began to protest, and his eyes snapping to her face quieted the words. “Do you have any idea what it would do to me to know that I could slide my hand under your shirt at any given moment and touch you like this?” He pinched her nipple and rolled it between his thumb and index finger, showing her exactly what he meant.

  Pleasure shot all the way to her toes. She whispered. “Maybe we can come to some kind of agreement.”

  He smiled and skimmed his hand along her side and under the waistband of the jeans where he pushed his fingers through the tight curls of her sex and cupped her. She was wet and ready for him. He groaned and pushed two fingers into her while he worked her clit with his thumb. He rested his head against hers. His breathing came in ragged pants. “No panties either. You’re killing me.”

  “Jericho!” She cried out while riding his fingers.

  “I want to be inside you right now, Sabrina.” He growled when her hands came down on his ass urging him to her. He pulled his hand from her and nestled his hips tightly between her thighs while she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  He rode her, his hardness rubbing her most sensitive place through their clothes, and she urged him on. “Jericho!”

  He reached down and pushed the denim off her legs, then unbuttoned his jeans to free himself. His breath faltered when her knees came up in welcome, gifting him with a view of her glistening opening that beckoned him. He gripped the base of his cock and positioned the tip at her entrance. She held her breath and nearly cried out when his eyes met hers. His lids were half closed, and his lips slightly opened as he pushed into her slowly. He filled her completely and stilled. He caressed her arms one by one from shoulder to elbow to each finger, then stroked long fingers over her shoulder to her collarbone, between her breasts and to her navel, and continued until his thumb rested on her clit.

  “You feel so hot and tight around me, Sabrina. You. Feel. Like. Heaven.” He punctuated each word with a roll of his hips.

  “And you feel so big and right inside me.” She gasped, and he groaned, then kissed her long and hard while rolling his hips in a rhythmic dance of possession. She skimmed her hands under his shirt, and then she yanked it over his head so she could run her fingers over his shoulders and back.

  With every thrust, he glided along every sensitive inner nerve, which sent tiny, sizzling contractions through her core. Every cell, every molecule inside her quivered with pleasure. She held on to him tight and wondered if he would leave her once again when he was through with her. She wondered why he had come looking for her after she had left him. She loved him and couldn’t imagine being without him now that he was here, inside her once again. They fit perfectly together, and she wondered if he could ever learn to love her. Her climax neared, and she held on to him even tighter, waiting for the waves to wash through her.

  When the first ripples began, she cried out and tears seeped from under the lashes she held tightly closed. Her muscles convulsed around him, tightening, loosening, then tightening again. He swelled even bigger inside her for a moment before he clamped his teeth onto her neck and his seed flooded her. With each pull of his mouth on her throat, she clenched around him. In response to each clench of muscles, he surged deeper until she felt like a limp doll, every cell in her body dancing in bliss. When the aftershocks of their releases died down, he slid his fangs out of her throat and kissed the punctures before framing her face with his big hands.

  “Sabrina? Why are you crying?” He brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and stroked her face gently with his knuckles. She opened her eyes, and he groaned.

  “I’m not. Just forget it.” She struggled to get up, but he held her in place with little effort. Damn the man for being so much stronger than she was.

  “I won’t forget it. Now tell me what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Was I too rough?”

  Her heart melted at the concern floating in the blackness of his eyes. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” At least not in the way he meant. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He brushed the hair back from her forehead and kissed the naked skin now exposed. “Mmmm. So soft.” He pulled back and stared into her face once again. “Now tell me.”

  “I already told you once and you left, so I’m not humiliating myself again.” She felt pathetic and weak allowing him to see tears. Surely he would get a good laugh out of this later. She struggled to get up once again, and he placed one big hand on her belly, effectively imprisoning her against the ground.

  “Sabrina. Tell me.” She shook her head. “Tell me, woman.”

  “Damn it, Jericho! Why do you want to humiliate me so much? I’ve never done anything to you. Just let me up! I want to get dressed.”

  “We can stay like this all night. Doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Yeah, well, morning will come soon, and unless you want us both to be fried, you’ll let me up.”

  “Morning isn’t for several hours still, and you know it.” He perused her slowly, from head to toe, and licked his lips. “I don’t mind staying here for several more hours in the least.”

  She really didn’t either as long as he’d never stop touching her, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “Jericho, let me up!”

  “Damn it, Sabrina! Tell me.”

  “Fine. I love you. Are you happy now?”

  His smile nearly shattered her heart with joy. It wasn’t a smile of ridicule but a smile of wonderment or of pride in discovering something precious. Did she dare believe what she was seeing?

  “Yes, very happy.” He gave her a lopsided grin that stilled her heart.

  “Well, bully for you. Now, since you obviously got what you wanted, can I get up now?”

  “Oh, Sabrina. I haven’t even come close to getting everything I want.” Her toes nearly curled when the flicks of red began a slow dance in his black eyes once again.

  She couldn’t do this, though. No matter how much she loved him, she couldn’t be with someone who didn’t love her. If she stayed with him, it would end up destroying her. Her heart ached once again. “Jericho, this isn’t about sex. I love you, but I can’t be with you.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You know why.”

  “No, I don’t think I do.”

  She blew out an agitated breath. “I’ve had enough; get off me.”

  “Why would I? Why would I willingly let the woman I love walk away from me again?”

  “Jericho, I . . . What did you say?”

  “You heard me. I love you, Sabrina.”

  She was speechless. He loved her. She never thought he would be able to love her after hating her for so long. Yet she knew he was not a man to say pretty words just to soothe a woman’s pride. She was certain that Jericho Tavi didn’t say such things lightly and knew he was sincere. She smiled at him. It was a smile that nearly lit the dark sky.

  “You love me? But how can you possibly love me after hating me for so long?”

  His eyes turned blacker than she’d ever seen them, and his mouth tightened into a thin line. “I never hated you, Sabrina. I hated what I thought you had done, and that wasn’t even the truth. I never had a reason to think anything other than how wonderful you are, and I let my guilt over not being there when Jade died and my desire for rev
enge cloud my judgment. And, yes, I love you and I’m sorry I left the other night. I was confused and acted like an ass.” He kissed her forehead. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  His black eyes stared deep into her soul almost as if they could read every thought going through her head. Could she forgive him? How could she not forgive her other half? “Of course I can forgive you. But only on two conditions.”

  He frowned. “What conditions?”

  “First, you promise to never leave me again, and second, you have to tell me you love me at least once every night from now on no matter how mad I make you. ’Cause, believe me, I’m going to make you angry. We’re going to have plenty of fights. That’s just the way I am.” She raised her brows. “Well?”

  He laughed and cuddled her to him. “I think I can do that. So, if I say I love you, say, seven times in one night, does that count for the rest of the week?”

  He laughed when she swatted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think so.”

  He kissed her deeply, softly, leisurely, possessively. “I’ll tell you I love you fifty times every night. I’ll tell you so often you’ll get sick of it. And of course we are going to have fights. But I look forward to them, because the makeup sex will be incredible.”

  Desire burned hot once again, and he groaned when he swelled inside her. He eased out of her, stood to pull his jeans up, then offered his hand to help her up. He helped her get her clothes back on, then turned around to search for his shirt. She gasped, and he spun around.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She walked toward him and pushed on his arm until he turned away from her. She traced her fingers along his back, high up on the shoulder blade on the right side. “I forgot about this. I saw it that night in the basement briefly when you were gathering your clothes. What is it?”

  “A tattoo.”

  She giggled and continued running her fingers over the long black dragon winding up his back and nearly over his shoulder. “I know it’s a tattoo, but is it just a dragon or does it mean something?”

  “It’s an ancient sign of power.”

  “Oh.” She had a feeling a man like Jericho wouldn’t just get a plain old tattoo with no meaning. “Power, huh? Well, it’s very sexy.”

  He chuckled and pulled his shirt on. “How about we go home and finish this discussion in a big, soft bed?”

  “Mmm. Sounds good to me. I could use a hot shower first, though.” She picked leaves out of her thick hair.

  “You’re going to make me wait for you to take a shower?”

  “Nah. I think maybe you should shower with me.”

  He pulled her to him for another searing kiss then took her hand and started back toward the road. “I think I can do that, as long as you let me wash you.”

  “Only if I get to wash you, too.”

  “Deal.”

  He hugged her close and whispered in her ear. “Sabrina, I’m sorry I hurt you. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to never do it again and spend my life trying to make you happy.”

  She hugged him tight. “Thank you, Jericho. I’ll spend my life trying to make you happy, too.”

  “Baby, you don’t have to try anything. I’m happy just knowing you are here with me and love me.”

  “Oh, and Jericho?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say, ‘I love you.’ You could say it a thousand times every night, and I still wouldn’t be sick of it.” He hugged her and kissed the side of her neck before trailing a soft kiss to her ear.

  “I’ve got news for you, too. I’ll never get tired of saying it or hearing it.” He kissed her long and deep, and a slow warmth spread through her like a shot of bourbon.

  They walked back to his house hand in hand in silence, simply enjoying being near one another. Enjoying the newfound love they shared. They barely made it to the shower and did much more than wash one another. They couldn’t seem to keep their hands off each other, which was just fine with Sabrina. She was pretty sure that Jericho was okay with it, too.

  Later she lay snuggled against him in his bed and informed him she never wanted to set foot in his basement again. He held her tight to him and told her that was fine with him, because there wasn’t much left down there anyway since he had smashed everything into hundreds of pieces. She looked at him in wide-eyed wonderment, then giggled. She knew she’d never want for anything with this man, he knew he’d do anything for this woman, and they both knew they’d be happy simply because they loved one another.

  The End

  About the Author

  S. K. Yule lives in a tiny Midwestern town with her husband and dogs. She is the author of Darkest Hours, a bestselling Paranormal Romance Novel and has written several other contemporary, paranormal, and erotica pieces.

  She became a fan of monster movies at a very young age and after reading her first paranormal romance several years ago, she fell instantly and irrevocably in love with the genre. The genre immediately sparked a desire to write about two of her favorite things—love and scary things that go bump in the night.

 

 

 


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