by KH LeMoyne
Her honest hope was for them to be comfortable here. Without a doubt, she’d be more comfortable. The coastline was familiar. The lighthouse had been in her family for generations and she had her kitchen. One of the few luxuries she’d allowed herself over the years.
In spite of the edict of her people’s former leader to restrict the freedom of the women in her race—and he’d been adamant they be placed in cryo for their own protection—Briet found hiding within the human world suited her disposition. Her decision to interface with the pediatric trials and move undetected as human had denied her the option to return to the Sanctum. To home, to friends.
Her past life had two choices. Life as a frozen cryo popsicle—no thank you—or freedom while dodging detection by her brethren, with only Ansgar at her back. A no-brainer. However, there had been few pleasures in the lonely existence.
Her brother had supported her decision, but life had been restricted to this property and her brief interactions on clinical trials. Different cities. Different patients. No real ties or roots.
Now, with Salvatore ousted, life offered more choices. Yet the lighthouse still represented the only home she’d known for the last decade. She wanted her time alone with Jason to take place where she felt some peace, somewhere that offered her a safe place to walk the delicate balance of love and lust with a man openly reluctant to commit to her or the covenant governing her people.
One step at a time. Don’t rush to the finish. Easier to do when Jason was actually beside her. His absence provided her doubts a tiny foothold. Was he carrying her with him, in mind and thought, as she did him? He was with her always, a ghost in her consciousness and her dreams.
She stretched, tipping her face to the sun, though the glow of heat along her skin had nothing to do with solar rays.
They’d managed a few more dinners since the first one. Rush and grab because of their schedules and the desire to stay out of the hospital’s vicinity. Enough to talk. Enough to steal a kiss, or three. Enough for her to know what his shoulders felt like under his starched white shirt, the sculpted muscles of his chest, the desire he couldn’t keep hidden when he pulled her against his body.
She wanted more. She was ready for more. So here she was, eager and expectant, hopeful and terrified.
“Hey.” The sound rang out across the rocks and down.
Briet shielded her eyes again and waved at the familiar figure with the dark brown hair and jeans.
Evidently, he did own clothes besides a suit. Seeing him in a sweatshirt and jeans, she realized she’d never seen him out of a suit. As Nurse Walker liked to say, the man did casual mighty fine.
He started down the first flight of stairs and pounced to the second with an easy move. The distance almost allowed her to make out the lines of his jaw and cheekbone. Two heartbeats later, he was standing in front of her, his brows drawn together, his mouth open and confusion clear on his face.
“How did I get here?” He glanced back over his shoulder and back to her. “So quickly.”
She could tell him the truth, but then she’d be alone for the weekend when he left her in disbelief. “It just seemed like nothing from those last stairs to the time you got here. You were pulled right to me.”
“One minute I was looking at you and then—” He looked behind him again, then with a shake of his head, he let it go. “Guess only the end result matters.”
“Absolutely.” She smiled as his arm curled around her back and gathered her against him. Warmth and strength pulsed against her skin as his lips hovered above hers.
“Hi.”
She gazed into his eyes, breathless, forgetting to respond. His lips pressed against hers and parted in welcome.
Bucket, rake, and clams lay forgotten at her feet.
***
Moonless night blended water and sky in one sweep of black outside the living room window. Jason watched the lights of the tankers several miles offshore in the darkness that his shadow cast on the glass. The reflection of the fireplace mirrored beside him like an apocalyptic fire at sea.
He’d spent the day with Briet, wandering the shoreline and later picking up supplies for dinner in the small New England town. He’d watched her create heaven in a pot, a blend of tomatoes, diced vegetables, white wine, garlic, and layers of seafood.
Not that he hadn’t helped. Okay, he’d only cleaned up.
Now, the time had come. The rhythm of his heart drummed louder in his ears than the nearby crash of the waves as he waited for Briet to return from the other room. Her room.
His small duffel had been relegated to a chair on the far side of the living room.
Spending all day and most of dinner mesmerized by the sparkle in her brown eyes, the rise of her lips when she smiled, and the touch of her hand on his skin, he had no intention of sleeping anywhere but by her side. Lust and need had locked in a desperate craving inside of him for days. If he didn’t feel his skin against hers, feel her wet and ready as he drove himself deep into her body, he was going to explode.
Then again, a small voice nagged, maybe this isn’t a good idea. Briet wasn’t the type of woman a man loved and left. Granted, he’d been up front with her. She knew he wasn’t the house-and-kids kind of guy. An honorable man would back off. Fairness warred inside his conscience. With a glance back to the tankers, he crushed the voice inside his head.
“What do you see out there?” The touch of her shoulder against his arm was enough to wipe all rational thought from his mind. He looked at her reflection in the dark window, lifted a finger, and traced along her cheek.
“I see beautiful, sexy, and delicious.” Her eyes widened as he pulled her hips to him and his lips closed over hers. Sweet and delicious.
His tongue swirled with hers, positioning her close enough to him for her to feel the enormous hard-on he'd tried unsuccessfully to hide for days. When she didn’t pull away, he turned her back to the wall next to the window and pressed along the length of her. His hands slid up the curves of her body to cup her face and angle it for a deeper taste of her mouth. He wanted to savor every inch of this woman. Taste, touch, and memorize.
Her moan, the slide of her hands along his chest, fueled his thoughts, but he leaned away to check her expression. Wanting her against his better judgment was his problem, but he wouldn’t have her unless she wanted him, too. If she pushed him away now, he wouldn’t need to be strong later.
Her eyes fluttered open. Silken lashes framed the deep brown eyes with the power to laser into his soul. Then she smiled, pulled him closer by his shirt, and whispered into his lips. “Jason, don’t over think this.”
He might have grunted. He couldn’t remember.
A moment later, he had her plastered against the wall, his mouth hungry on hers. The next minute, it wasn’t enough. He moved past the point of enough when he'd first laid eyes on her that morning.
“Hold on to me, baby.” He lifted her off the floor and she wrapped her legs around his waist before he walked into her room.
He held her close as he released her legs to the floor. The fireplace, cutting through from the living room to her bedroom, reflected glowing light. It was enough to confirm the bright shine of her eyes and the rich fullness of her lips.
His hands moved under her sweater, sliding across the soft silk of her skin, the delicate curve of her ribs, the tiny dip of her waist, and the sweet indentation of her navel. With a quick move, he shucked the sweater over her head and dropped it to the floor beside them.
Her pulse jumped and he played his fingers along the rhythm to the creamy white of her breasts. Where his fingers explored, his tongue traced, worshipping the taste and softness. The swift pounding of her heart pulsed beneath his lips. Her breathing grew shallow, her excitement rising.
Good. He would make this a night of wild, hot sex. Pleasure she wouldn’t soon forget.
Bending, he kissed the swell above the lace of her bra and then covered the fabric over her nipple with his mouth, sucking hard. At her gasp,
he felt the shiver of her skin beneath his fingers. He pressed the material back with his thumb to alternate between licks of the hardened nub and delicate bites. Her hands wove into his hair and tugged. At one particularly sharp pull, he gave her a gentle nip and smiled against her skin. A little tiger, his doctor.
Snap undone, the bra suffered the same fate as her sweater. He palmed her round breasts in his hands, suckling between them until he moved again for the sweetness of her mouth. Not a kiss, but a devouring because he couldn’t get close enough, deep enough. The feel and taste of her lit fire across his skin, hardening the erection already painful against his jeans and numbing his brain to reason.
Barely stopping to let her wrestle his sweatshirt over his head, he pressed her close, the feel of her skin against his enough to make him want to take her to the floor and enter her right then.
He pulled from her mouth to catch his breath in the softness of her hair. The blonde spikes glowed golden with the fire’s reflection, heady with the scent of salt sea air. He fought to hold back. They had a whole night. He refused to act like a first-time teenager and burn himself up in a frenzy. Hell no, he had serious plans for feminine torture targeted to delight—every action requiring he keep his focus.
With a nip along her neck and shoulder, he ran his hands down her back to curve around the soft globes of her ass cheeks. Her tongue swirled over the hollow of his throat and he leaned away to let her fingers travel down his sides to his hips, stroking beneath his waistband. He let out a shocked breath as raw sparks of desire followed the progress of her fingers around his right hipbone, his balls drawing tighter in response.
His skin had never been so sensitive. Or was he just so juiced with her that every touch was setting him off? He entertained brief thoughts of maintaining control, but her hands on his chest and her kiss threatened his sanity. Her wrists he wrestled away, and at her surprised look, gave a hard laugh. “I can’t hold back if you do that.”
Damn if her eyes didn’t soften and her mouth didn’t look more kissable. More taste, more touch. His lips captured hers again as he opened her jeans and slid them over her hips.
His fingers traveled along her skin beneath her panties and into her slick folds as his mouth captured her moans. Fuck. Hot, wet and ready for him. At her groan, he gave into raw instinct and dropped to his knees.
One swift swipe and her jeans and panties lay puddled on the floor. His hands cupped her ass closer until his face was buried against her stomach for a taste of her navel, a lick to the flesh of her abdomen, a kiss to a small tattoo above her hip. At the deep inhalation of her breath, he dipped his tongue between her folds and licked. He looked up into her eyes. Masculine pride swelled at the glow reflected there. “Spread your legs for me, baby. Please let me.”
As she moved for him, he circled two fingers around her opening while his thumb teased her clit. Her thighs trembled and he braced them with his arm as he leaned in to cover her with his lips. A gentle suck and tease, and he felt her flesh vibrate under his tongue.
The taste of her. He knew she would be sweet, but he hadn’t expected his own response. The feel, the taste of her on his tongue created a surge of pleasure in his own body and a corresponding swell of his cock. Each sip and swallow was like a cord drawing tighter down his spine right to his scrotum. If before he’d craved, now he was bound, lust and memory burned forever into his mind.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him as his tongue sought to tease between her folds. His fingers opened her like the petals of a flower. Holding her to him, he kissed and suckled until she cried out in release, her fingers grasping at his hair as she gasped for breath.
Pure abandon, his little tiger.
His licks followed from her core to her clit, pressing lightly, desperate to capture the spasms of pleasure from her body. Only his arm around the back of her thighs kept her from falling to the carpet. The vision of his sated Viking goddess, eyes half-closed in pleasure, almost sent him over the edge.
He scooped her up in his arms, laid her on the bed, stripped off his pants, and then grabbed a condom from his pocket. Barely able to wait, he knelt between her legs and raised her thighs over his. Pressing himself to the moist, warm entrance of her body, he hesitated, savoring the moment. So hot, tight and beautifully ready for him.
He leaned over her body. Elbows braced about her shoulders, he stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to her mouth as he thrust into her, full hilt.
The cry from beneath his lips, the tension in her body, her nails digging into his bicep, all confirmed the horrible sensation he had of tearing through resistance inside her.
Shit.
She was so damn tight. He barely had any control to start with and it was fracturing as she tried to push away. He grabbed her hip with one hand. “Please. Don’t move.”
He leaned his forehead against hers to regain a scrap of composure. A kiss to her cheek, one to her temple and then he counted to ten, hoping she would open the eyes squeezed shut in pain and look at him. He kissed her lips again, tender and gentle. “Give it a few minutes, baby, you’ll get used to me. Trust me.” He prayed he was right.
With a kiss to her neck and earlobe, he focused on tenderness, trying not to think about the muscles tensed around him tighter than a vise-grip. Trying not to think about the way he’d just brutally taken her virginity. Trying not to think about how close he was to losing it.
He licked her bottom lip and then the top. A quick kiss followed to the corner of her mouth as his hand swept the hair from her face. “Briet, look at me. Please.” He felt her try to force her breathing into a normal pattern and he brushed his lips across her collarbone. “If you trust me, please open those beautiful eyes.”
She bit her lip and opened her eyes.
He leaned close, lip-to-lip until he could see all the pain and surprise in her eyes. “Just kiss me, Briet. That’s all. Your body will relax. Kiss me.”
He touched his lips to hers. There was a brief movement of her lips responding. He leaned back and looked at her, then stroked her cheek with his nose and kissed her again. This time she returned the kiss. He pulled back again. He nipped along her jaw. Her hands released their death grip on his arms and slid to cup his head as she kissed him tentatively.
He kissed her with every bit of feeling he had, feeding on her mouth like a starving man until she responded with a soft mewl. He slid his hand from her hip to her ass cheek and held her to him, his erection still painfully engorged and buried in her heat.
With more restraint than he believed possible, he shifted to rock her against him. The tension in her muscles receded as he continued to kiss her and rock her slowly. He moved away from her mouth to dip down, kiss her breast, and lick her nipple.
“I’ll be okay, Jason.”
He lifted his head. “We’re not going for okay here.” He kissed her and nipped her lip. “I’m going for the big time climax. Not settling for anything less.” His tongue tangled with hers as his fingers stroked her breast and teased her nipple. Her breathing started to speed up again. He pulled back from between her thighs, easing out of her just a bit. She tensed but sucked in her breath as he stroked along her folds with his fingers and circled around her clit.
When a soft moan escaped her lips and her hands moved back to his biceps, he kissed her again and moved into her with a shallow stroke. “Moans are good but they aren’t enough.”
She started to laugh and let out a tiny cry of pleasure as he pressed more firmly in his circles. “Better, but not there yet.”
“You’re a slave driver.” She was trying for humor, and he had to give her credit because he could barely speak from the need to come, much less try for levity.
“Haven’t seen anything yet.” He licked along her ear. “Bend your knees up around my hips.”
She bit her lip and did as he asked. He moved his hand back to cup her buttock and pulled her closer, allowing his body to apply pressure as he deepened his stroke.
“You okay?”
“Mmm.” She didn’t really answer, but her head was moving languidly and her hips were trying to find a rhythm. He guided her and she moved against him. He withdrew slowly and filled her, over and over, holding back, waiting so she would find release first. Her thighs clenched around his hips and her muscles began to pulse around his cock. He gripped her tighter, finally feeling the quivers of her orgasm in every fiber of his being. With a deep thrust and then another he cried her name into her hair and joined her.
The orgasm was over but he never wanted to move again. His only conscious desire was to lie there, still and deep inside of her, but age-old training kicked in. Slowly, he withdrew from her body and then rose from the bed to the bathroom.
He threw away the condom, rinsed himself, wiped at the small bruising marks around his hip and thigh, and shook his head.
A virgin. His feisty doctor had been a virgin, and he’d almost taken her like a raging bull. He grabbed a washcloth and headed back into the bedroom.
Briet was sprawled on her side. He crawled beside her and kissed her shoulder. Moving the sheet aside, he kissed her hip, her thigh, and the tiny tattoo below her navel, eliciting a sweet moan. Softly, he turned her so he could gently swab between her thighs. Her hands moved to hold him back, but he kissed her fingers and moved them away. “Let me care for you, Briet.”
Her resistance ceased. He cleaned her, tossed the cloth to the side table, and curled his body around her, pulling the sheet over them. “Are you sore?”
She covered his hand over her waist. “I need a few minutes before we do it again.”
His laugh erupted against her hair and neck, and he gave the delicate pocket between her shoulder and throat another kiss. “If you can, then so can I.” He tucked her closer to him and closed his eyes. She felt too good in his arms. His. She was going to break his heart before he was able to walk away.
For now, he refused to think past their weekend together.
***
Briet lay in his arms, drifting between sleep and thought as the murky gray of pre-dawn filtered through the curtains. She didn’t want to think about the future, or whether Jason could love her enough to stay with her, or the fact that he was dead set against having children. She didn’t want to think, only wanted to feel. To believe tenuous bonds of emotion would bind them forever from the physical expressions of their passion. Or lust, depending on which of them was being considered, though she suspected that would be both of them.