by Opal Carew
Her nipples pebbled and his hand trembled as he pulled her shirt up and bent his head to suck on her, the salty taste of her soft skin messing with his head, making him drunk. She arched even further, tugging her hands out of his grip to thread her fingers through his hair again and hold him to her.
As he suckled, his free hand moved to the waistband of her jeans. The smooth skin of her stomach quivered and he stopped. Until she lifted her hips, encouraging him to continue. She wasn’t wearing underwear. Hell, maybe she didn’t own any. Then his hand slid into her short, silky curls and he hoped she never did. He wanted unrestricted access to her at all times.
She froze, waiting, and he let his fingers rest there, soaking in her heat. He wanted to slide his fingers into her, feel how wet she was, feel her sex close around him. Wanted more than anything to rip away their clothes and take her, but they couldn’t. There wasn’t enough time or privacy.
Still, he couldn’t leave her until the primal part of him that wanted satisfaction heard her cry out his name. He wanted that. Needed it because they could have nothing else right now.
Sliding his fingers further, he brushed against her clit. Slow and light, he played with her, taunted her, until he felt her body arched into his, her fingers biting into his biceps as she sought a harder touch.
He gave it to her, stroking that little nub of flesh with more pressure until she began to writhe beneath him. His mouth still locked on hers, he stabbed his tongue into her mouth in time with his strokes and ignored the punishing ache in his body as his fingers played over her silky flesh.
Goddess, she was hot and wet and so fucking responsive, his cock strained against his zipper, seeking home.
With a gasp, she broke their kiss, drawing in air as if she were drowning, and he shifted his mouth to her neck, opening on the skin below her ear and reveling in the taste of her.
She was close, so close to breaking, her hips moving against his fingers, her hands clenching and releasing. Her breathy cries felt like physical caresses on his cock, cranking his need to finish her.
He turned ruthless, mercilessly teasing her. Hard and fast then slow and light. Her body responded to his every move, twisting and craving what he could give her.
Until finally, he felt her break. Catching her cry in his mouth, he felt her body tense and arch into him, her hip catching against his raging erection and nearly pushing him over the edge with her.
Her sex clenched around his fingers, and he groaned thinking about how fucking good that would feel around his cock.
They lay there for minutes, his fingers embedded in her wet heat, face buried in her neck. When he’d decided he wasn’t going to come in his pants, he slid his hand free and wrapped both arms around her, rearranging them until her head lay on his chest and her breath warmed his skin. He tortured himself for a few more minutes by just holding her.
If he failed again, this was what he’d lose.
Blessed Goddess, don’t let me fail.
After a few minutes, her breathing returned to normal, and she sank into him, body draped across his, head burrowed into the curve of his shoulder.
It’d be relaxing if not for the almost overwhelming urge to thrust his still-aching erection against her.
Not the time. Not the place.
But, Christ, he wanted to. He wanted to strip her, spread her out on the ground and sink into her until he forgot his own name.
Shit, he had to relax. Focus inward and concentrate on breathing. Yeah, like that was gonna work. Especially when he felt her hand begin to rub against his chest.
And when she shifted slightly off of him, he opened his eyes and found himself staring directly into hers.
* * *
Shea had never had an orgasm by anyone else’s hand before.
And damn…good thing she hadn’t known what she was missing.
Then again, it might not have been as good with anyone who wasn’t Gabriel.
And what would happen when they actually got their clothes off and he could take her completely?
She wanted to know.
Staring into his dark eyes, she let her hand slide down his hard chest to the defined ridges of his abs. His gaze stayed steady but his muscles contracted under her fingers. The corners of her mouth kicked up in a half smile, making a muscle tic in Gabriel’s jaw.
Good. He wasn’t as steady as he fronted. She slid her hand further until she reached the waistband of his jeans. For a few seconds, she let her hand lie there, not moving, letting him sweat just a little.
Then she cupped him through his jeans, the hard bulge twitching under her hand, straining against the placket until she was sure it’d burst through.
Her smile widened as his lips parted to draw in air. She loved how the touch of her hand affected him.
Gently at first, she stroked him through the fabric, watching his expression tighten into a fierce mask. But she wasn’t afraid. Hell, no. It made her hot and a little more bold, letting her fingers undo the button at the top then pull down the zipper, careful not to pull it down too fast and possibly hurt that part of him she so wanted to ease.
With the zipper split, she maneuvered her hand into his pants, his soft cotton underwear tight and fighting her. Still, she was determined and finally got her hand exactly where she wanted it. Gripping him.
He was hot and hard and soft and huge. Goddess, the man truly had been blessed. Her fingers didn’t meet when she wrapped them around his shaft and started a slow glide.
When his breath hissed in and his head kicked back against the tree, she thought she might have hurt him. But when she paused, he laid his hand over hers and wrapped her fingers more tightly around him.
She picked up the rhythm, working him with her hand, watching his face to see if he liked when she squeezed him at the tip before working her hand back to the base, then sliding farther to cup his heavy balls.
His moan fired her previously slaked desire, making her sex ache. When his eyes closed, she leaned in and sealed her mouth over his, sliding her tongue into his mouth, flicking at his until he responded in kind. When his hands slid into her hair to hold her to him, she slowed her hand, and only when he’d eased his hold on her did she grip him tighter.
Power. She liked it.
So much so, she wanted him to come on her command. She stroked him faster now, feeling his muscles strain toward release, his tongue a furious whip in her mouth.
Goddess, she ached, pressing her sex against his hip and rubbing hard as she rubbed him. She felt another climax build in her body, reached for it, just as his cock jerked in her hand and a warm wetness coated her fingers. Her body pulsed in time with his.
They lay there, breathing, her fingers still clutched around his softening shaft. Silence but for the soft rustle of the leaves above.
Shea didn’t want to move, and she wasn’t quite sure her body would obey if she did try to get up. Not that she could because Gabriel’s arms were tight bands around her.
Which really wasn’t a problem.
But he’d probably like to have his property back.
She released him but didn’t realize she didn’t know where to put her sticky hand. Gabriel solved the problem for her by sitting up and wiping her hand and his stomach with his shirt.
Then he zipped his pants and hers, his motions almost too controlled.
He didn’t say anything, his gaze on whatever his hands were doing and, as she watched him take a long look at his shirt before he dropped it on the ground on his side away from her.
What the hell? Was he angry at her? Embarrassed by what they’d done? Did he regret this?
He looked up at that second and caught her gaze, his so dark, it was like looking into a pit of molten dark chocolate. Her breath caught at the banked emotion, and before she could draw in a needed breath, his mouth came down on hers with a determination she couldn’t deny.
He broke off the kiss a few seconds later with a guttural moan.
“Later,” he said.
Damn, she wished it were later.
Chapter Seventeen
Dinner was quiet and way too long for Shea’s peace of mind.
Tonight, she and Gabriel would finish what they’d started in the woods.
Just thinking about it made her shift on the chair. She was almost as bad as Leo, who practically bounced on his seat and couldn’t stop running at the mouth, which turned out to be a good thing because none of the adults could string more than three words together without stumbling over them.
Serena’s eyes held a faint red tinge, as if she’d been crying and had done her best to clean up before she’d had to face the crowd. She smiled at Leo’s continuous jabber and asked Gabriel an occasional question but that was it.
Quinn didn’t speak to anyone but Leo. Gabriel kept sliding her hot glances that sizzled along her nerve endings and promised heaven later.
Goddess, she wanted him. Wanted it to be midnight, wanted Leo to be sleeping soundly and Quinn and Serena to be elsewhere so she could lock the door to his room and spend the night learning how to make love to him.
She didn’t want to die a virgin.
Hell, she couldn’t give a good reason why she’d never gone to bed with a guy before. It wasn’t like she hadn’t had offers.
Something had always stopped her. Though it would sound crazy to anyone else, she knew the voices in her head would have disapproved. But they shut up when she kissed Gabriel. That had to mean something. Didn’t it?
“Are you finished, Shea?”
Serena’s voice broke into her thoughts, dousing her libido as her brain made the connection again between Serena and Gabriel. Mother and son.
They didn’t look all that similar, though their smiles were identical. Gabriel must resemble his father, she decided.
“Can I help with the ritual tomorrow?” Leo broke in, practically bouncing off his chair. “I watch Shea all the time and my mom taught me a little. And my dad.”
“I don’t see why not, Leo.” Serena smiled at him as she collected plates from the table. Quinn stood and put his own in the sink before she could get to him. Her smile faltered but she continued uninterrupted. “When Gabriel was a little boy, he loved to help, too.”
“No offense, but I think I liked the rush afterward more than the actual helping.” Gabriel’s mouth lifted into a grin. “Kind of like a good sugar high.”
Serena’s glance was indulgent. “You always did have a sweet…tooth.”
After putting his plates in the sink, Quinn walked out of the room without another word. Serena stared at the door then sighed.
“I’ll be right back.”
Shea watched her disappear through the same door, back straight and an air of determination that was nearly visible.
“Is Quinn in trouble?”
Leo’s whisper made her smile and she shared that smile with Gabriel, who shook his head.
“No, he’s not in trouble, bud,” she said. “He’s just, ah, kind of tired.”
“No,” Leo shook his head. “He’s sad ’cause of Serena. And Serena’s afraid of him. Why is she afraid of Quinn?”
Shea couldn’t think of one damn thing to say. She hadn’t realized how good Leo was at picking up on emotions. She felt Serena’s exasperation like a whisper of cool fog against her skin. She wondered how Leo sensed emotions. She’d never thought to ask.
Gabriel answered before Shea could pull her thoughts together. “Serena’s not afraid of Quinn, not like you used to be afraid of the dark. Serena’s afraid of something bad happening to Quinn. Do you understand?”
Leo mulled it over for a second. “Yeah, but I still don’t see why he wants to kiss her all the time.”
She couldn’t help it. She choked back a laugh as Gabriel’s mouth twitched. He looked to her for guidance and she shook her head. “You’re doing fine, big guy. Go for it.”
Instead, Gabriel asked, “How do you know that?”
“I see it in my head when I pet him. He’s so soft. Can I have fur when I get bigger?”
Shea thought her head should spin at the speed Leo switched subjects. Since Leo had rediscovered his desire to talk in the past few days, he seemed to be making up for lost time.
“No,” Gabriel said. “You’re not going to have fur when you get bigger. So you want to watch some movies before bed? I think Serena has more movies than a video store.”
Effectively sidetracked, Leo bounced off his chair, ready to go and, intrigued, Shea followed Gabriel through the house by way of another hallway that led to a stairs leading down.
“Wow,” Leo said as he got a look at the room. “Does Serena play with all this stuff?”
Gabriel grinned as Leo walked over to the pool table and ran his fingers along the carved wood before he headed for the DVDs flanking the huge television that covered almost half the wall.
“She can beat me in pool nearly every time but I remain the all-time pinball champ.”
Shea smiled at the image of a young Gabriel spending hours at the pinball machine. But just as quickly, that image was replaced by one of a teenage Gabriel standing over his dead father.
So much pain.
Standing to the side, Shea watched Gabriel help Leo pick age-appropriate movies. Leo looked like a kid in a candy store. They’d seen one movie in the past year in a movie theater, a Disney release. So, of course, Leo chose “Monsters,” “The Jungle Book” and “Peter Pan.”
Then they settled on the curved couch, Leo between them, as Gabriel fiddled with a remote that looked like it could control the space shuttle. A second later, several pieces of equipment blinked to life on the cabinet below the television. He pushed another button and the lights dimmed.
And finally the movie started.
In the flickering light from the screen, Shea watched Leo’s eyes widen in wonder. Lifting her arm, she settled it around his shoulders, drawing his warm little body into her side. He snuggled in without taking his eyes from the screen.
So small. So not fair.
“Shea.” Gabriel sat on the other side of Leo, watching her. Their gazes met and held. “You want popcorn?”
Her lips curved into a grin even as her mouth began to water. And not just for popcorn. “Sure. Lots of butter.”
“Only way to eat it.”
* * *
Serena knew where she’d find Quinn.
In the one room of the house he knew she wouldn’t go.
Unfortunately for Quinn, she’d decided it’d been way too long since she’d confronted this particular demon.
She hadn’t opened the door to Nino’s room since his death. The pain in her heart had subsided in recent years, but not enough. It would never be enough. Still, the situation with Quinn had reached its breaking point.
Down the south hall, past the secondary altar room, through the entrance to the west rooms.
The door was closed, but she knew exactly how the room would look. Exactly the way Nino had left it the last time he’d been here.
It took her nearly a minute to grab the doorknob.
She tried to prepare herself for the despair to hit her, the gnawing pain that lives with you when you lose a child. Gabriel had been her first in all the centuries since the curse. She’d loved him with the passion of a new mother, despite the circumstances of his birth.
Nino had been a joyful surprise. Where her daughters and Gabriel had been solemn children, as if they’d always known the weight of the world was on their shoulders, Nino had woken every day with a smile on his face. Davis’ influence, she was sure.
Davis…
No, she couldn’t think about Davis, not now. She had to concentrate on Quinn. And how best to break the hold she had on his heart.
She took a deep breath, twisted the knob and opened the door.
Quinn sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor as he meditated, looking so incongruous on the carpet printed to resemble a small town. Nino had played on that carpet for h
ours.
She took a deep breath and ignored the bed where Nino had slept, still made up with his Thomas the Tank Engine sheets and the toy truck in the corner, laying on its side, exactly how he’d left it.
“We need to talk,” she said, her voice sounding horribly loud in the quiet space. “This has gone on long enough.”
He didn’t acknowledge her immediately, but after a few seconds, his eyelids fluttered and he lifted his mesmerizing blue gaze to meet hers. Those eyes always reminded her of the warm Mediterranean. But his mouth was set in a cool, straight line, only the muscle jumping in his cheek gave away his anger.
“Are you ready to admit you’re wrong?”
Sweet heaven, he was gorgeous when he was pissed off. She wanted to smile at his youthful fire, but she knew it would only anger him more. And make her want him more.
She already wanted him more than she wanted to breathe.
To steady herself, she let her gaze roam around the room. To remind herself why she couldn’t let herself love him.
“I’m not wrong, Quinn. I’m not going to change my mind. Find someone else. Take another lover.” Just don’t ever tell me. “Don’t wait for me because it will not—”
He rose with a speed and agility she should have expected but hadn’t. He had her up against the wall before she knew what he intended, mouth crushed against hers, kissing her with more passion than skill.
His lips forced hers open, his tongue stabbing into her, gliding against her tongue. The taste of him, unfamiliar and heady, made her moan.
She wanted to push him away but her body knew her mate, knew this was the only man for her. And had decided it’d been denied long enough.
Her knees weakened but his hands caught her under her arms, lifting her until her feet left the floor and she had to grip his shoulders to maintain her balance.
Balance she didn’t have without her blood-bound mate in her life.
When he drew back, her stomach rolled at the frustration-love-hope-despair she saw in his face.
She couldn’t stop herself. Her hands lifted to cup his tense jaw, letting the warmth of him soak into her skin. His eyelids flickered but didn’t fall, lips parting to draw in air but he didn’t move.