“You first.”
The dare in his voice was unmistakable, and the flip-flop in her stomach had her wondering if she was nervous or excited.
“Afraid?”
She baulked at his comment, as he threw her own word back at her. Glaring at him in the dimness, her eyes flickering as if electrified. She dropped her voice to a purr as she swept her hair over her shoulder. “Oh bless. Newly-turned halfling, you have no idea what it would take to scare me.” She unzipped her boots, kicking them off, hoping he never discovered her irrational fear of frogs, before reaching for the hem of her t-shirt, yanking it up. His light tut had her stopping to stare at him, her shirt halted across her midriff.
“Slowly, Jess.” Pushing away from the wall, his cuffed hands brushed hers as they both grasped the t-shirt. “It’s not a race.”
What little advantage the heel of her boots had given her was lost as he towered above her.
He gathered the cotton in his hands, leaning in to brush her lips with his, following with a slow delve of his tongue between her teeth, stroking her.
He felt the cotton give and stretch beneath his grip, and careful to avoid the swell of her breasts, he eased it over head, dragging the shirt up her arms and stopped.
Looping the shirt double, he secured her wrists, trapping her arms in front of her.
Her lush breasts were forced closer by the confinement of her arms, nearly spilling from the frothy black bra.
Her hair shimmered around her, her lavender eyes swirled with intensity as she looked up. She was breath-taking to him.
“Something tells me you don’t have any intention of taking my cuffs off, so at least this way we’re even.”
Undoing her belt and the buttons of her jeans he knelt, tugging them down the smooth expanse of her legs, leaving her in sinfully small underwear. The tiny piece of lace was held in place by thin scraps of silk that crisscrossed over her hips. His breath shallowed as he traced the pattern it made on her skin.
Forcing himself not to rush, he leant forward, touching his tongue to her navel, before trailing licks and kisses up the center of her body.
His hands pressed flat, fanning across her stomach, soaking up the honeysuckle scent that was purely hers.
Her pearly skin was rose petal soft beneath his lips, and her little pants made his stomach clench.
The slender shape of her felt delicate, almost fragile, beneath the rough heat of his palms; the smooth slope of her stomach had him groaning. As he turned his face against her flesh, she trembled beneath him, and his fingers teased the underside of her bra.
Her bound hands settled on the back of his head, the coolness of her touch a welcome relief from the burning.
Looking up, her eyes glowed down at him. Her hair fell in waves around them, whispering across his forearms. The lush swell of her breasts were a breath away, and he couldn’t wait any longer to feel the weight of her.
Coming to his feet, he trapped her bound hands between the press of their bodies. Reaching out, he traced the edge of her dainty bra, watching his darkly tanned skin touch her pale flesh.
Molding his palms around her, he finally held the lushness of her breasts, loving the sound of her gasp as his thumbs swept over the tight nipples.
His gut clenched at the sound, and he allowed himself one more sweep of his thumbs before capturing her soft lips, taking kisses across her jaw. Easing his body away from hers, he whispered at her ear, “Help me get my clothes off, Jess.”
Her heavy-lidded eyes looked down at his cuffs. As her eyes travelled up his body, it was as if he could feel her gaze. She took the tattered collar of his shirt in her hands, and caught his eyes. “Trust me?”
Offering her a single nod, her palms began to hum, crackling with electric. The blue fissions left her fingers, leaching into the fabric, turning it to dust across his body, leaving static in its wake.
Her little grin was alive with a mix of lust and mischief as she placed her palms together, letting the current travel through her, and the binding at her wrists dropped to the floor.
Reaching up to sweep her hair across her shoulder, she ran her finger down the center of his chest. “I can’t be held for long.”
Taking his hand, she pulled him into her hazy bedroom. The delicate line of her spine drew his eye to the sway of her hips, and the way the string sat between her round cheeks left him panting.
Her ass was perfect; neat and pert. His palms itched to touch and mold.
She flipped a switch, casting a low glow across the en suite, and turned on the shower. The stream swirled around them.
There was so much of her to look at he didn’t know where to begin as she came towards him.
Her waist nipped, to flair over full hips. Tiny strips of black lace crossed her milky skin, and her long hair streamed across her shoulder, almost reaching her navel. Her lavender eyes radiated power, and he knew he was lost.
She looked like sin, and he needed to touch her.
Seb toed off his shoes as she came to a standstill before him. Her movements slow and deliberate as she grasped his belt, releasing the buckle, and then each button on his jeans.
Sliding her palms beneath the waistband across his hips, she pushed the denim, and boxers down his legs, her nails lightly scraping the top of his thighs as she did so.
Her eyes fastened on his cock, her tongue dabbing her lip as she looked at it, and he knew he stood a little prouder at the way her eyes had widened at the sight of him.
Taking a step away from him, her glance was almost coy as she reached behind her, releasing the clasp on her bra.
As the straps slid down her arms, her beautiful breasts swayed with the rhythm, the dusky nipples already hard, waiting for his lips.
As she pushed the thong over her hips, she’d just dropped them to the floor when he moved, unable to wait a moment longer.
Taking her wrist, he pulled her to him, and his lips crashed onto hers, as her arms wrapped around him.
He backed her into the shower, her gasp filling the air as he pressed her to the cold tiled wall, his kiss carnal and raw.
The hot water hit his back, sluicing down his skin, as he pressed against her. The mounds of her breasts pressed into his chest, her silky legs rubbed against his hair-roughened thighs.
Blood pounded around his body, roaring in his ears at his need to take her, and he broke their kiss. Licking a trail of water from her throat, groaning, as he tried desperately to claw back some control.
He wanted her to need him; wanted her to ache.
Taking a breath, he watched her heavy eyes open, watched her soft lips form his name as a question, as he went onto his knees before her.
Sliding his palms down the length of her thigh to her knee, he lifted her leg, slowly placing it over his shoulder, loving the excitement that flared in her eyes as he held her gaze. “Don’t move.” He whispered the demand as he leant closer to her, keeping his eyes locked with hers as his tongue touched the smooth flesh of her pussy.
Her folds were slick, and he moaned against her, long and low as he delighted in her taste.
Her breaths were already coming fast, her small whimpers urging him on, as shivers raced through her.
He took slow laps, loving the way her legs trembled against him, as he settled into a slow circular rhythm, around the nub of her desire.
Her fingers clenched in his hair, bordering pain as she rolled her hips with him, following his tongue. And he loved it—the taste of her, the sounds of her panting cries and begging whispers, the movement of her body.
He kept up the soft motion of his tongue, as he trailed his fingertips up and down the inside of her thighs, drawing ever closer to the throbbing heat of her.
He heard the moment her cries changed, becoming almost desperate as she neared, and as much as it pained him, he drew away, leaving her on the cusp, her longing sighs ringing in his ears.
Standing up, he lifted his cuffed arms over her head, jerking her to him, picking her up.
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The length of him slipped against her wet folds, making them both moan, until finally he pressed the head of his shaft to her center, pushing into her delicious tightness.
She fluttered around him, showing how close she was, and he had to grit his teeth to stop from shoving into her slick depths.
But as her legs wrapped around his hips, he knew it was hopeless; the first sweet circling of her hips on him rent his control, sending him over the edge.
Pinning her back to the wall, he grasped her buttocks in his hands, kneading the flesh as he stroked fully into her.
Steam billowed around them as he made long surging thrusts into her sweet depths, the urge to come rolling up his back, as, finally, she broke around him, her high cry lifting.
He gritted his teeth, as her sheath clenched and she arched into him, urging him deeper.
Her feathery moans filled the shower stall, her head arched back in abandon as he watched her. A flush filled her face, her lips trembling as she came.
As her climax ebbed, he couldn’t hold on any longer. But as he pulled from her, her hand instantly reached for his length.
Her grip was firm as she held him, and her moan rang out in unison with his at her first long, stroke.
The wet heat of her lips touched his jaw, as she leant into him. Her slippery breasts slid against his chest as she whispered to him, her words intensifying the pounding of his blood.
The heavy stroking of his shaft continued as the water sluiced across them. He slitted his eyes open, finding her iridescent, glowing gaze watching him. Waiting for him to come.
With a shout he threw back his head, pumping into the watery jets, his lips finding hers and taking them, in a raw mating as she melted against him.
***
As his forehead touched hers, a satisfied smile touched her lips, and her eyes blinked slowly open, to be greeted by the sight of fangs.
Her breath caught, and, despite just having had a pretty spectacular orgasm, lust pooled at the sight of his sharp, pearly points. Who knew she had a dangerous complex?
His own eyes sleepily opened, water spiking his lashes, and as he smiled down at her, his normal brown eyes were now fully black, with the lighter ring from before seeping into the inky depths.
His lips gently meet hers, and his arms tightened warmly around her.
As she watched him, she realized he had no idea. His own satisfaction was clear in the long ‘hmm’ he murmured in her ear, as he rubbed himself against her, softly stroking her ass.
He seemed to be praising her?
Slowly pulling her away from the wall, he lifted his arms from around her, softly touching her face as he drew away, leaving her feeling suddenly bereft, even in the hot shower.
“Jess, can we take these cuffs off now?” Her eyes darted up at his question, and the alarm in her gaze brought him to a standstill. “What’s the matter?”
She gestured towards him with a guilty shrug, not wanting to kill the mood. And even though she thought his fangs were hot, she needed to assess whether or not he had other urges building. “Your eyes, and your fangs… They’re out.”
As his tongue touched the tip of a lethally sharp fang she almost couldn’t suppress the urge to moan. What the hell is wrong with me? “Do you feel anything? Rage, hunger… Anything at all?”
Pushing out of the shower, he wiped his big hand across the mirror, staring at himself.
She felt the tension begin a heavy churn through him, filling the room, and she mentally threw up her barriers.
She’d need to hoard the energetic boost their shower time had given her, if she was going to hold off a crazy werewolf.
Stepping from the shower, she caught his gaze in the mirror, and cautiously touched his shoulder. “Seb?”
Whirling on her, he threw his cuffed hands towards her. “Christ, Jess, you look like I’m about to attack you. I’m not a monster about to pounce! And you sure didn’t think so ten minutes ago.”
Standing naked in front of an angry vampire didn’t work for her, and she reached for a towel and wrapped it round herself. “That wasn’t what I meant. I just thought you might be struggling against an urge, or something.”
Clearly trying to hold on to his temper, he pulled a towel from the rack, struggling to wrap it round his hips until she helped him.
“This Jess,” he gestured at the towel, “this is exactly it. I can’t stay handcuffed until we can figure this out. I haven’t hurt you, and the only urge I have is to take you back to bed. How dangerous can I be?”
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself!” The words rushed from her lips as she jabbed him in the chest. “You said you’d rather die than feed, and that doesn’t work for me.” She stalked from the bathroom, slightly surprised to find October sunlight streaming into the bedroom.
Realization dawned as she stood in the middle of the room, dazedly turning full circle, rushing back to stop him from entering, only to find him a pace behind her, his face angry as he spoke.
“You honestly think I would kill myself?” He lifted his hands as he spoke, his tone incredulous. He sat on the edge of her bed, leaning his forearms on his spread legs, as he looked at her. “Let’s not write me off just yet, Jess, okay?”
Rubbing her forehead at the start of a pounding headache she stared at him until he raised his brows at her. “What?” His tone was that of a belligerent teenager.
Furiously pointing at the window, she widened her eyes at him in exasperation. “Err… sunshine, bright, middle of the day sunshine.”
Looking down at the midday rays that lay across his bare skin, he heaved in a sigh, his face mirroring the confusion she felt.
“Well, it didn’t get me this morning, why would it now? What are we supposed to make of any of this?”
“I don’t know.” Huffing, she crossed the room, and sank down on the bed next to him, linking her hand with his. “I just wondered if the faint early morning light was too weak to count. Now, I don’t know; maybe it’s because we’re inside, maybe it has to be direct sunlight—I just don’t know.”
Pursing his lips he squeezed her hand. “Let’s find out.”
“What? Why?”
“Jess, we can’t just sit here and wait to see if I suddenly become some rabid thing that you have to put-down. So let’s get the answers while we can.”
It was odd, having a man in her house. She’d found a hoodie of Adam’s in the bedroom he’d stayed in, and thrown Seb’s jeans in the dryer.
And here he was, getting dressed in her room, while she did, using her hairbrush, and standing at her mirror.
She laced up her walking boots, thinking all this ‘getting dressed for the day’ business could be a big waste of time if his skin started to fry the minute they opened the door.
But he was right, they had to find out what they could, and the sooner the better. And despite their bitter overexposure to the elements as they’d raced out of London yesterday, the bright, crisp October afternoon was calling her.
Following him out into the living room, she stood at the patio doors. “Just stand back in the shadow, okay? Let me open the door, then edge forward, maybe put your hand out.”
She could’ve slapped him for the amused look on his face, but she threw him a glare instead, as she turned the key.
Easing the door open, the sharp sea air blew in, filling her lungs with home, and she clung to the desperate hope that everything was going to be okay. That they could get through this.
Slamming a lid on that thought, she looked back at him. She was going to have to deal with whatever it was between them, she knew that. She just wasn’t ready to do it yet. And she had enough to deal with right now anyway.
Ignoring the faint cackling of the spirits that gently reached her, she mentally threatened a withdrawal of all mint humbugs, and it subsided into whispering titters.
His eyes had closed as the breeze reached him; he too seemed to be drawing strength from the salty wind. Slowly lifting his hand into the shaft
of natural light, they both waited, breaths suspended.
Until her patience ran out. “Well?”
Looking up at her, wonder lit his face. “I can feel it.”
Going to him, she slowly touched the back of his hand, shaking her head in question. “Feel what?”
Taking a step fully into the light, he walked towards the open door, his warm hand held hers, as he pulled her with him.
She was nervously watching him as they stepped outside, until he stopped suddenly, leaving her gasping and trying to pull him back indoors.
He was immovable. Racing round in front of him, the pure joy on his face tugged at her heart. “Seb?”
“I can feel the sea, Jess.” He stared out over the dunes, looking at the rise and fall of the sandy knolls, and the yellow grasses that had always brought her such happiness, such peace.
“I can feel the salt on my skin, and the wind. I can smell everything.”
She swallowed over the lump in her throat at the relief and happiness pouring from him. Reacting on instinct, she reached into her pocket and took out a key.
Taking his cuffed hands, she lifted wet eyes to him with a smile as she unclicked the lock. “We’re going to work this out, okay?”
Undoing the cuffs, she pushed them in her pocket.
His warm palm slid along her jaw, lifting her face to his, so he could touch his lips to hers. The sweet bolt of happiness tripped through her like a lightning strike. Knowing her eyes would be glowing lavender, she looked up to find his own brown eyes, churning with a grey black mix, smiling into hers.
“Let’s go down to the sea.” Tugging her with him, he stepped off the decking onto the sand and pebbles, drawn as ever, to the water.
Jess looked across the long stretch of dunes and beach. A few dog-walkers loitered in the distance, but none strayed this far down. The late autumn sun had chased away the clouds, leaving a high bright sky. The crisp air still held tiny tendrils of summer that clung to the breeze, but it wouldn’t be long before winter frosts cloaked the landscape, leaving a grey and churning sea.
Hunter Moon: A Spellbinding Tale of Love, Loyalty and Magic (Langston Bay Trilogy Book 2) Page 13