by Jackson, Pam
His heartbeat sped; she was feeling the same compulsion to fill the void that had existed in his heart for far too long.
“I’m here, Andie, and I’m on fire for you. I need to hear you cry out my name.” He pushed her back against the tile wall and grabbed both her wrists, pinning her arms above her head. “I want this ... I need this from you.” He eagerly kissed his way down the soft, wet hollow of her neck and then coasted his tongue farther along until his lips met a firm nipple. He drew it in and tugged with teeth and lips until he heard Andie’s delectable moan, boosting his intent to please her over and over again.
He felt her buck from the erotic pressure of his nipping teeth, and he pressed harder on her trapped wrists. “Nah, baby, you’re not going anywhere. I’m going to please you ... first with my tongue, then with my fingers, and finally with my cock, until you beg me to be wicked no more. You are my sweetest pleasure.”
He released her wrists and kissed a path past her full breasts and down the flat lines of her stomach. His hands steadied her hips, and he circled her navel with a slippery tongue. He went to his knees as the warm water trickled down his back, giving her a full, upside down view of the colorful peacock and wolf ouroboros tattoo. Her slick hands gripped his shoulders, letting him know she was surrendering to his need, and she gasped with delight.
“Come hard for me, Andie. I want to taste your soul.” The tip of his tongue found her clitoris, already slick and wet, where he greedily licked and sucked her in deeply. Her moans vibrated off the ceiling and walls, giving him the confidence to push her to a state of complete submission. He felt her heat against his lips and suckled her more, pulling her hungrily against his dashing tongue. His mouth flicked and licked her as he became aware of his own throbbing cock that would soon demand to invade her.
Her hands moved to his head, where her fingers gently twisted his damp, dark hair, making sure not to touch the newly sutured skin.
“More ... I want more of you ... use your fingers now,” she gasped, hardly getting the words past her lips before he slipped a long finger between her wet folds, delving deep as he thrust his tongue along the same path and then to her sensitive clit.
He sensed she was close to release as he felt her tender flesh rigid and trembling. She tasted like heaven, and he wanted her to climax right now, but he had promised her that his cock would be the one to finish her.
He turned his head and kissed her trembling inner thigh and then stood. His stared into her dazed eyes, full with a million sparkling facets of emerald green that trapped him in their spell.
“And now I need to fuck you, baby, hard and all night. I won’t be able to stop,” he said in a low, needy growl. “I need to see your beautiful face as you come for me.” He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He freed a hand and guided his erection to the entrance of her soft folds. He drove himself into her with one thrust, slowly and methodically, hitting her core—teasing her slick channel with his strong strokes. He listened triumphantly as she gasped and cried out for more of him. His shaft throbbed as he pumped deeply into her velvety sex, but this time he couldn’t hold back his urgency, and he found himself pounding against her faster and stronger. His own strained moans matched Andie’s in volume, and he was close to coming feverishly—but his discharge would have to wait.
He pressed her against the tile wall with his solid chest against her petite frame. He released one of her lean legs from his hold, allowing her to support herself on the shower floor. Her other leg remained in his secure embrace, and he gripped the soft curve of her ass as he gently nudged open her thigh to welcome his bucking pelvis. The tight walls of her sex barely accommodated his demanding cock; she was a hot vise, kneading him until he could barely exhale her name as he drove his hips against her open, inner thighs.
He stared with awe and delight as her orgasm rippled through her small frame, and he, too, was taken as he shot his boiling release deep within her sweet channel. He shook and convulsed as he finished, and then he buried his head against the wet curve of her delicate neck. His heartbeat pounded in his ears in a deafening roar, and he shivered from the spray of cold well water running between them as the hot water heater ran dry. He reluctantly pulled out from her tight warmth and tapped the shower lever off with his elbow, never releasing his grasp on her hips and thighs.
His mouth covered hers with a deep, slow kiss. It emboldened his ego that she was still out of breath from her climax.
“I’m not nearly done having you, Andie. I need more ... and so do you.”
He carried her out of the bathroom and walked toward the king size bed, placing soft, lush kisses against her trembling lips. “Don’t deny me,” he said against her mouth. “I’m a greedy bastard, and I don’t give a damn. All I want is you, over and over again.”
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Andie felt the pillow top of the down comforter against her wet skin as she lay across Clay’s bed. He climbed over her, placing succulent kisses at her neck and ear. She was in heaven having his sculpted body on hers, and knowing that she was loved by him made her gush with unbridled emotion.
“I want to be inside you again. I can’t explain how you make me feel, but you’re a habit I can’t kick,” he whispered near her ear. “I crave you, don’t deny me. Goddamn, I love how you wring me dry, baby. And I’m sorry if I take you like a possession. I can’t help myself.”
She had never felt this way either. His words, sensual and commanding, sent a feverish current to her stomach and beyond. “I want you, too. I won’t deny you.” She managed to croak out the words from her dry throat. Her body was still wet from the shower, but she was hotter than the Sahara or the surface of the sun. She could feel the heat rising from her skin, sending sweet beads of dew down between her bare breasts.
He cradled her face and stroked lightly at her bruised bottom lip with a thumb. “Andie, I love you, and my entire world is you, darlin’.” He kissed her again, “Ride me, baby, I want you to feel every hard inch of me.”
He caged her in his arms and flipped onto his back, bringing her on top of him. She mounted his legs, feeling the softness of his masculine hair against her inner thighs. His thick shaft—erect and longing for her touch—left her breathless. He was perfect.
She teased the broad head of his penis with a featherlike touch and traced the long length of him to his heavy balls. She studied his beautiful body in the full light of the master bedroom. Sharp angles and broad planes. His chest was chiseled with a master’s touch, and his muscles rippled and curled with her light strokes. She noticed a flame of amber in his dark, brown eyes as he stared at her naked and handling him; he was completely bewitched by her, and she gave him a devilish smile, knowing she could have him her way—or any way, any time, any place.
“Mmm, yeah. I know that grin,” he said, cupping her full breasts in his palms and tugging at a nipple. He bucked his hips, prompting her to climb onto his rigid, full length.
Now it was Andie’s turn to control the rhythm of the sex. She edged up to his pelvis, barely able to close her hand around the width of his impatient dick, and parted her own folds with his velvety, crimson head.
He must’ve sensed the sensual electric current shooting through her nerves and tightening her core, because in that instant, he grabbed her hips and seated her with one pull. She arched her back and drew at the fine, dark hairs that swirled across his chest. Her coarse cry took her by surprise, and she began riding him with a slow cadence. He hissed out a satisfied curse and thrust his hips upward to meet her rhythm. His large hands gripped her hips, guiding her down on his steel spear as the heat poured over her in waves. She could feel her own orgasm building at the base of her spine, and she threw her head back, exhaling and waiting for the burst of pleasure to consume her.
He sat up and positioned her legs in a straddle around his strong thighs. He reached for her face and extended his fingers into her hair, gently pulling her head forward to meet his feral stare. He licked his lips with delig
ht and said, “I want to see your face, sweetheart, when you come. Look at me ... because I’m the only one for you, the only one to make you feel this way.”
She was lost to him; his lust and love for her combined to create a blazing fever. She could feel no restraint, no bonds holding her back—no method, just madness driving her to orgasm. She felt her body tense, then the surge of her release numbed her muscles as she cried out his name. He stared into her joyful, tear-filled eyes and kissed her deeply as his tongue thrust into her mouth, leaving her breathless and panting. He kissed her long and hot, still joined to her, never breaking their bond.
She could read the urgency in his face as she pulled away from his searing kiss.
“Clay,” she said, “don’t be gentle, I know you need this. I can feel your spirit holding back. You’ve felt it ... haven’t you? The Atros Fallis. You touched it and it gave you strength. You’ve become uninhibited, feeling a dark side of yourself, something preternatural. The ‘Dark Key’ of the Atros Fallis feeds your carnal side. You want to dominate and be dominated. I’ve felt the same way—before, in the cave.”
He was speechless, staring at her with disbelief. She knew he was feeling the potency of the book’s life force. When she was getting undressed for her shower, she felt its imposing presence once again, the same way she’d felt it calling to her through Claudius, helping her to find the entrance to the cave. And when they had found it, hidden in the strongbox, it gave her the power to focus and cast aside her fears. Her thoughts were crystal clear, her senses overloaded yet her mind decisive, and she was able to sift through the white noise of panic, fear and weariness from the past few days, leaving her with a feeling of invincibility. But she knew her ratcheting potential would soon become overwhelming, and she would need to escape from its awesome power. She remembered the sexual indulgence that she had longed for in the cave as she drove Clay to make love to her. The Atros Fallis represented all that was dark and unrestrained. And the book Abraham The Jew was pure light and tranquility. The yin and yang, contrary forces connected to create a whole.
He studied her with keen eyes, acknowledging her description of his emotions, feeling the need for his thirst to be quenched with her flesh. He pulled out of her and went to his knees, pushing the soft down comforter to the edge of the bed. He didn’t speak a word, but growled with sexual satisfaction from behind clenched teeth and pushed her back against the firm mattress. He spread her legs to accommodate him. His cock hung heavily between them and he pinned her wrists behind her head with one of his ample hands. With his free hand he grabbed himself and slipped the tip of his veined length inside the mouth of her sex.
She arched her back with delight as she felt his silky head, heated and firm, prodding her, but never entering completely.
“Beg me. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you.”
She was savoring the moment; his power over her was a euphoric experience, and she would give him all the glory of his dominance. She remained quiet, with only a clever grin to let him know she had heard his plea. Her silence ignited the beast within; he was lost to the lust and desire. Just what she wanted.
“Damn, woman, you put me through such hell as I come to you this way. Ah ... Andie, you know me so well ... know everything I need.” He shook his head. His staggering stare never left her jeweled eyes. “You will answer me, my sweet angel, even if it takes me all night to tease you with the tip of my cock.”
He freed his hand from his heavy shaft and lifted her right leg, and she hooked it over his broad shoulder. “You won’t be silent for long, baby,” he said confidently, playing his role so well.
He slid two fingers into her wet cleft as she moaned with delight. Her tight walls pulsated, and she bucked her pelvis to acquiesce to his touch.
“I can give you more ... all of it, Andie. Just say you want me,” he said thickly as his fingers moved with the rhythm of her beating heart.
He released her wrists and worked his mouth down to a puckering nipple. He sucked and grazed his teeth against it to the tempo of his magnificent fingers. This was almost all she could take; sooner than later, she knew she would be begging for him to enter her with his raging hard-on instead of his tantalizing fingers. Her breath was rapid as she whimpered, and she knew he was enjoying her vulnerability.
“Ooh, baby,” he said, groaning against her heaving breasts, then returning to suckle. “You are so wet for me. Tell me you want this ... tell me you need it.”
She was going to crumble soon, and she mustered all of her stamina to hold him at bay. She did it for him—for his ego to be stroked, for his strength to return through the power of the Atros Fallis, using her as its vessel. The desire they shared for each other was a roaring passion like none she’d ever felt in this lifetime or any other.
Her body was almost wrung dry from repeated orgasms, and she could feel the oncoming surge of another. She was amazed by her restraint, and she remained speechless although she mouthed cries of ecstasy.
She felt him go rigid as he stopped at her breast and lifted his head. His dark hair was tousled at his forehead. Perspiration glistened along his cheekbones and his square jawline, and he curved his perfect lips into a seductive sneer brimming with boldness. She felt a third finger penetrating her tight sex, sending her into a foggy oblivion. She was done.
“Oh, Clay, now ... now. I want you inside of me ... please, now.” Her shouts reverberated off of the vaulted ceiling of the room. In an instant, his long fingers were replaced with the heat and thickness of his ramming shaft as he rocked deeper and deeper inside of her. Her leg still wrapped around the rounded mass of his shoulder gave him the perfect angle to reach the bull’s-eye of her G-spot, causing her to gasp and cry with delight as she pulled him in to kiss her.
He kissed the crease of her mouth; his breath was a series of ragged grunts as he continued to pump into her. He rocked her until her orgasm swelled and burst from her with a fervent cry of his first name—the way she knew he liked it.
“Christ, Andie ... I’m gonna break apart,” he gasped, his head hanging into the hollow of her neck. His hips still rocked hard into her, and she could feel the rigid spasm of his cock—a sure tell of his coiling orgasm as her sex tightened around him. He came with a jolt, and she could feel his heated extract fill her as he pumped into her silken womb.
He collapsed on her; the heaviness of his tuned body elated her with a happiness that only compounded her love and desire for him. Knowing that he was truly satisfied by her made her smile, and she began to stroke his broad back, recalling from memory every detailed line and colored band of his ouroboros tattoo.
She loved him.
Chapter 32
Clay blinked his eyes and tried to push away the enticement of returning to a deep sleep. He rolled to his side and focused on Andie as she lay on her stomach with her legs bent at the knees and her ankles crossed in the air above her. It made him think of the way teenage girls lay on their beds and texted their friends or flipped through magazines—innocent and comfortable. The thought made him happy.
She was wearing one of his white sleeveless T-shirts, and the length of it covered her sweet ass and thighs. “I had no idea a wife-beater T-shirt could look so hot,” he said, reaching out to stroke the cotton where it bunched at the small of her back.
“Hmm, yes. I hope you don’t mind.” She tugged at the scoop neck of the T-shirt, exposing a bit of her cleavage. “I was cold, and you hogged all the covers. There wasn’t much in your dresser, and this was the closest thing to a nightshirt I could find.”
“Well, it’s yours now. In fact, I might want you to wear that all the time,” he purred with delight, watching her face light with a playful smile. She rolled onto her side, exposing a dark leather journal that had been hidden under her folded arms. “What’s that, Andie?” he inquired, squinting his eyes at the aged book.
“Claudius’s journal. I found it back in the cave. It was in the same strongbox as the Atros Fallis.”
“Yeah, I remember now.” He raked his hair back off his forehead. “You took that rather quickly from the box and shoved it in your jacket pocket. I was amused how protective you were about it.”
She moved her eyes away with slight embarrassment. “Well, it was my curiosity that made me take it, and it paid off, too.” She theatrically paused, biting her bottom lip.
“Well, woman, spit it out. I have some skin in this game, too. What happened to Claudius? I mean, in between kidnapping Katherine and hanging for senseless crimes.”
“All right, I’ll tell you.” She was grinning widely.
Something comfortable and familiar stirred in him as he waited for Andie to read from the diary. Maybe it was his connection to Claudius, but he thought it was more about watching this beautiful, intelligent woman become giddy with excitement over something so pedestrian as a journal. Most women he knew only showed that kind of excitement over new jewelry or a pair of designer shoes. She was remarkable: the girl next door with a passion for mildewed old books and pre-Sumerian artifacts. She’d captured his heart. Never had he thought a girl like that would want him.
He watched her delicately turn through the aged journal and stop where the pages were marked with a long, brownish-red silk ribbon. “What’s that?” He pointed to the ribbon and found himself wanting to hold it.
“This, my dear,” Andie said, pulling it from the journal and handing the aged silk ribbon to him, “from what I can presume, is the ribbon Claudius shamelessly took from Katherine. It was attached to her cap. He swiped it from her while she was selling her family’s goods at the farmer’s market. It wasn’t mentioned in the inventory register of items Claudius had on him at the time of his death. I’m assuming he placed it in between the pages of his journal for safe keeping while he was on the run from George Washington’s agents. Unfortunately, he was captured near Smithtown, Long Island, and never returned to his hideout. But I can only imagine Claudius wearing this red ribbon to tie back his own hair in an eighteenth century queue.” She shook her head and chuckled. “Pretty brazen if you ask me, since men during that time period only wore dark colored ribbon in their hair or wigs.”