Stormchild: Pacific Passion, Book 1

by Vivian Arend

  “Heat me up,” she whispered, raising her hands to cup his face. A soft kiss. Another. She planted delicate caresses on his lips until he snatched her closer and assumed control. He consumed her. Feasted on her. He slid his mouth down to suckle on the pulse point throbbing at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Cupping her ass in his hands, he dragged her hard against his body. Her mound connected with his erection and he lifted her, rubbing them together. Her last lucid thought was they still stood on the beach, in plain view of the whole clan.

  He growled deep in his throat and swung her up, marching into the shadows as he continued to offer his lips in worship. She closed her eyes and blindly accepted wherever he took her. Blindly accepted the wonders of what his mouth did to her. It went beyond kisses. A world of desire passed between them and the only connection point was their lips.

  He ducked low, and she opened her eyes to find they were in a wall tent. As he lowered her to the mattress she glanced around. There were few personal possessions in the square dwelling. A simple trunk stood in the corner next to an empty desk. She lived in a similar space, and all her belongings were already packed in preparation for the morning.

  Preparation. Shit.

  “Do you have a condom?” She pressed on his chest to separate them, even as her fingers curled involuntarily to clasp the soft cotton of his shirt.

  An inexplicable expression floated across Matt’s face before he hurried away to swing open his trunk and rummage in its depths. She sat up to watch him. It was reassuring he didn’t haul protection out of his back pocket like he hoped this would happen. A twinge of doubt at her actions hit, but before she could act, he turned in triumph. Their eyes met, and she was lost.

  She had to have him.

  Matt flicked on the small lantern beside the desk, and a dim glow filled the tent. A hazy, smoky light that turned his dusky skin even darker as he approached to kneel before her. He stared into her eyes for the longest time. The brilliant blue of his irises burned into her like an x-ray and she felt exposed. Every desire—and right now she had a lot of them—laid bare for him to examine. She had to drop her gaze.

  Instead she watched from under heavily lidded lashes as he unbuttoned his shirt. Muscles carved from obsidian graced his torso, and she reached without thinking to stroke the ridges of his abdomen. Hmm, soft skin, rock-solid base. She slid forward on the mattress to press both palms against the heat radiating from him.

  “What’s your name, my ray of moonshine?” His voice teased all the dark parts in her soul with needs she’d never dreamed she had. She swallowed hard as he shrugged his shirt off and reached to unbutton her dress.

  “Laurin.”

  His gaze remained locked on her body as the edges of her cotton shift separated. The cool breeze of the ocean snuck in the tent flaps to brush her skin.

  “A beautiful name.” He stroked his knuckles along the edge of her bra and her nipples tightened to the point of pain. “Laurin, I thank you for the gift of sharing pleasure with me tonight.”

  The air rippled around them and she held her breath. Something magical had begun, and she was powerless to stop it. Perhaps this was what always happened during a sexual encounter with the People of the Sea. She wouldn’t know.

  Matt leaned toward her and she met him halfway. Their lips connected as his hand slipped forward to cup her bra-clad breast. His flavor, smoky sweet, tickled her taste buds as she accepted his seeking tongue. Nips and licks, and open-mouthed kisses followed, while his thumb traced wicked circles around her nipple. She wanted to stay like this forever, the tender touch of his firm mouth against hers. He snuck his other hand around her neck to direct the angle of her mouth. Laurin groaned, wanting him closer. Wanting to be consumed by his taste, consumed by his heat. He stroked his tongue along her teeth and over the roof of her mouth and she answered by sucking lightly.

  When he left her lips and moved to her lace-covered breast with his mouth, a soft sigh escaped her. She arched under him, inching closer until her thighs bumped his hips. Her heated core nestled against his abdomen and the gentle abrasion set her clit throbbing.

  The world slowed to nothing but her sense of touch. An aching heat shot to her womb from where he suckled at her breast, melting fingers of pleasure spreading leisurely. He moved his hand to her thigh, smoothing the inside of her leg until he cupped her core.

  “Oh damn, you’re wet.” His fingers stroked over her panties. A firm controlled touch that teased and enticed. She opened her legs farther and moaned in protest when he pulled away. Wordlessly he stripped off her dress, removed her panties and bra and arranged her on the mattress to his liking. He undressed quickly, then stood over her. The admiration on his face was echoed in the admiration shown by his body, his cock jutting from his groin. A whimper escaped as she fought the urge to taste the pearly bead clinging to the rigid tip.

  “Please…” She stared at him, unable to complete her statement of need. She grew feverish waiting for him to stop looking and start touching.

  The pale glow of her beauty wrapped around his heart as much as around his body. As Matt gazed at Laurin, laid out like some kind of exotic feast on his bed, he wondered when he had lost control of the situation.

  The magic filling the room was more powerful than he’d ever experienced. Sexual pleasure was a strong catalyst for shaman skills, but of this intensity? The unreasonable concentration of passion he felt scared him. Made him hesitate and wonder if it was safe to continue. He sat beside her with care and laid his hand on her chest, his fingers splaying out as he opened himself to his mystic side. It wasn’t an invasive search, only a surface questioning of her innate skills.

  Nothing.

  Nothing came to him except the overwhelming desire to drive into her body and never leave. Laurin moaned, a small noise deep in her throat, and he lost all interest in solving the mystery of why the room blazed with energy. He’d formally accepted her offered gift, now was time to enjoy each other. They could seek answers later.

  He covered her with his naked body. He sucked in a quick breath at the rightness of the sensation, heat to heat, hard to soft. Lip to lip as he took her mouth again. Honeysuckle sweet, submissive under him, Laurin lifted her hands to stroke his back with a whisper-light touch. Her legs fell open to allow him to nestle closer. His erection wept where it rested against her belly, and involuntarily he rocked his hips, shifting them lower. The motion dragged his shaft through her soft curls and moisture from her pussy coated his cock.

  He kissed his way down her body, worshipping her breasts, nuzzling the underside of the sweet curves until she squirmed. A trail of kisses descended farther, stopping only to lap at her bellybutton. She gave a soft giggle when he dipped his tongue into the indent, and he leaned up on one elbow to smile at her.

  “I love the sound of your laugh.”

  Her dark eyes twinkled at him. “I love what you’re doing to me.”

  “Hmm.” He kissed her belly, his gaze locked on hers. “Any requests?”

  She stared back wide-eyed. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  The fragrance rising from between her legs tormented him and he could wait no longer. “Your command is my wish, my lady.”

  He glanced at the pale curls covering her mound, moisture clinging to them. He drew in a deep breath to fill his head and his lungs with her scent before dropping his mouth to kiss her intimately.

  Had he imagined she tasted of honeysuckle? No, far sweeter. Her flavor burst forth like an exquisite wine and he savored each sip. Parting her curls with his fingers to expose pale pink folds, he traced delicate circles with his tongue. Laurin quivered beneath his mouth, her nether lips flowering open as he laved again and again, lapping the cream leaving her body. The moisture, that even now, prepared her body for their joining.

  The erect tip of her clitoris peeked out from its protective hood and he drew it into his mouth and suckled gently. She cried out, then relaxed under him, tangling her fingers in his hair. He hummed against her
core, slipping a finger into her depths to test her readiness. A wave of lust raced over him as her passage squeezed so tightly he had to concentrate on not coming right then and there like an inexperienced youth.

  “Oh damn, Laurin. Just…damn.”

  She raised her hips, demanding his attention and he gave it, whole-heartedly. A second finger joined the first and he stroked the front of her sheath with a curling touch. He licked and sucked in turns until her body responded like a wave breaking on the shore, exploding against the rocks and flaring up into the cool night air. Laurin arched hard, her head thrashing from side to side, small moans of delight escaping her lips.

  He continued to touch and caress, softer now, more and more gently until the aftershocks faded away. When their gazes met she had tears in her eyes and something inside his heart twisted. Matt rose and kissed her, their bodies tangling together as she twined her fingers in his hair and held their mouths together. He rolled them over, loving the sensation of her weight resting on top of him. Then he clasped her hips, squeezing her muscular butt cheeks. The heavy weight of his erection rested between her open legs. When she slid up slightly to kiss her way along his temple, the hot wet tip of his cock pressed against her slick opening.

  They both froze.

  The dire urge to thrust confused the hell out of him. He was the one who didn’t want to leave children behind like a trail of foam in his wake. He was the one who should be getting out of this position and sheathing up. It made no sense, but he was powerless to move. Frozen in place as he used every bit of his power to remain still and not bury himself to the hilt.

  Laurin was the one who swore and slid to safety. She sat on his abdomen, the pulsing heat of her core smearing a line of moisture on his skin.

  “Condom. Oh God, please, I don’t want to stop, but you’ve got to—”

  “I’ve got it.” He spun her again, dropping her flat on the mattress, taking her mouth in a tender caress that grew harder and more needy by the second. He squeezed her breasts together and lapped from side to side, nipping at the now bright red tips until she dragged his head away. He rose over her and for one awful, dreadful, marvelous moment he was once again lined up bareback with her welcoming passage. Their eyes met and he swore.

  “Damn it, I want you so badly. Like this, skin touching skin.” He rocked his hips and his cock nestled a little deeper. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth together. Oh fuck, he needed to stop but the thought was killing him. Why was everything in him crying for them to come together unhindered by anything unnatural?

  “Please not without… I can’t, I just can’t.” Again Laurin was the one who found the strength to stop them. She wiggled from under him, whimpering piteously. His magic flashed—even as she left him he sensed she wept for his touch without the barrier. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  No—needed. This went beyond want. This was off the scale of desire and pleasure. Somehow joining with her had become as necessary as breathing and having the sun rise in the morning. Dazed, mind clouded, the rustle of foil broke through his distorted hearing. He managed to mindlessly open the package but his very soul protested his attempts to put on the condom. Laurin moved to help, and the touch of her hands on his aching cock was like the first flush of dawn’s light after a stormy winter night. Every cell in his body yearned for her and as soon as she rolled the latex over his erection he clasped her back into his embrace.

  They scrambled together, half-sitting, half-lying and then in one frantic motion they joined. She sank onto him with a soul-emptying keen of delight. It tightened his groin and sharpened his senses to everything they shared. Her breasts rocked against his chest, her turgid nipples scratching his sensitive skin. Her soft belly rubbed his abdomen and she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him. She pumped hard onto his shaft, driving it deeper into her welcoming warmth. He kissed her frantically, attempting to silently apologize for his lack of control even as he took back the lead, grasping her hips to lift and lower her again and again. The sweet cream between them eased his way through her tight clasp. Tongues tangled and thrust together in imitation of their hips.

  Suddenly there was nothing but impending fireworks and lightning strikes breaking across their bodies. He brought her down hard one last time, flexing his hips to drive them as close together as possible as the first pulses of her orgasm fluttered around him. His mind emptied with his seed, the sensation of being in her arms and in her body so good and so right, words failed him.

  Breathlessly he waited until the tremors racking them both faded to something on the lower end of the Richter scale. He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, the heat of her skin welding its way through him like a branding iron.

  By the time he could move again, they both shivered in the cool night air. He pulled back the sheets and lowered her tenderly to the mattress surface. Laurin’s eyes remained shut, a dusting of tears painting her lashes. He kissed them away before leaving her briefly to deal with the condom.

  Then he returned and wrapped himself like a blanket around her, physically unable to let the sensation of her skin touching his stop even a moment before the dawn broke.

  Chapter Three

  It was somehow distasteful and very trite. Yet when she woke before Matt, her first thought was to find a way to sneak out of his grasp and get to the harbor as quickly and quietly as possible.

  Still, she stared at his face for a full minute, memorizing the lines, the firm bone structure. Whatever else had happened last night, she didn’t regret her actions. Or at least she wouldn’t if she made it out of his tent without disturbing him. She didn’t need any early-morning complications. Rolling cautiously, Laurin slipped from under his muscular arm and slid off the bed. Her dress lay across the back of the chair, and she inched it over her head in an instant.

  Then she was out the tent flap, returning to her own place, hoping to avoid any of the early-rising locals on their way fishing. She didn’t need a lengthy tête-à-tête with anyone about why she still wore last night’s clothing.

  The crisp morning breeze filled her nostrils like a refreshing spring rain. It was always difficult to say goodbye to a community, but heading to a new settlement excited her as well. Laurin ducked into her own tent to change into travel gear and grab her day bag. Someone had already picked up her main suitcase and she quickly prepared for the coming trip. She wondered briefly who Mama T had conned into giving her a ride to her next teaching assignment. Most of the time she ended up on slow-moving barges or supply vessels. Occasionally a speedboat, but that convenience was far more rare. All she knew was that by nine a.m. she had to get to the harbor.

  She spent her spare time on a rocky outcrop overlooking the settlement, staring at the ocean and wondering why the taste of Matt lingered in her mouth. Last night had amazed her, overwhelmed her.

  Scared her to death.

  She’d been so close to making love unprotected. That wasn’t her way. Something about the combination of her and Matt made her lose control—the passion in the room had been off the charts. She wished she could crawl back into his arms and ask for another round. The magic they’d shared had been unlike any previous sexual experience.

  She laughed at herself. Two years of hiding from her heritage, and she’d been close to throwing it all away on a whim. Part of the reason she’d left the mountains and come to the ocean was to escape from her supposed destiny. The People of the Air were good people. She just didn’t want to end up the partner of anyone who thought they met all the requirements of some ancient mystical prophecy. She wasn’t ready to settle down and she’d left before anyone forced her to make a dire mistake.

  Still, she missed shifting. The need to remain hidden had required staying in human form. It had been far too long since she’d soared through the air and she missed riding the currents and gliding above the clouds. Above her head the sky grew brighter, tinged with a harsh red. A storm gathered strength in the distance. She smelt it on the air, the electrical cha
rge sharp in her nostrils. Her journey from this settlement would be less than idyllic. The wind shifted, now blowing out toward the sea, and she rose. Time for daydreaming was over. Whoever she was hitching a ride with would have to hurry to stay ahead of the weather.

  The well-worn boards of the dock bounced underfoot as she strode to the waiting boats. She watched one of the village men load her trunk onto a yacht, and Laurin breathed a sigh of relief she wouldn’t be trapped on the boat anchored at the end of the harbor, a scrap barge, going at a snail’s pace through the Inside Passage.

  Laurin whistled as she caught a closer look at the nearer ship. Her lines were clean and trim, sparkling in the sunshine reflecting off the water. She was a beautiful craft—single mast, rigged to allow an experienced sailor to handle her solo with ease. Laurin bet an inboard engine would be tucked beneath for those days the ocean turned to a sheet of glass or for a day like today when getting ahead of the wind meant safety. With delight, she spotted a kayak carrier jutting off the back, her own well-loved cedar strip already strapped in place beside a gorgeous Kevlar single seater, the brilliant red of its sides glowing like the sun.

  Nice. Very nice.

  The boat drew her like a magnet, and in a moment she was by the vessel’s side, stroking a hand along the gunwale, squatting to see the name painted across the prow.

  Stormchild.

  She crawled aboard, completely mesmerized by the craft. Two comfortable seats in the open stern would allow passengers to face the water. She pressed her nose to the window of the covered pilothouse to peer at the helm. Exquisite woodwork filled the space, the cherry red tones bringing warmth and beauty to every detail.