Impetuous

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Impetuous Page 14

by Denise A. Agnew


  Heidi chose to appear at that moment, and she sidled up to Ian, her smile saccharine and transparent in every way. Synna watched the woman’s approach and Ian’s response with double interest.

  “Mr. Frasier?” Heidi’s dark gaze glittered with intent, her smile warmer than necessary as she pressed close to him. “Your costume is exquisite. You look like the guy in that movie—”

  “Aragorn,” Ian said with a self-effacing grin. “I don’t see the resemblance, personally.”

  Heidi blinked rapidly, and Synna’s disbelief went up another notch. Unbelievable.

  Heidi slid one hand down the front of his leather vest, her hand looking small against his broad chest. “Oh, but you do. Only better. You’re more handsome.”

  Uncertainty and discomfort flashed over his generally unflappable exterior, and Synna smiled. His insecurity came off boyish and appealing. He didn’t know it, but he’d fallen right into a trap by making himself even more attractive to Heidi.

  And to you.

  Few seconds passed before he recovered a confident demeanor. He smiled, a hint of charm mixed with cockiness. “Thanks, Heidi. You’re a gypsy?”

  Heidi touched his arm again. “Absolutely.” She turned in a circle. “I thought it was pretty sexy.”

  When Ian’s gaze lingered on the woman’s cleavage a little longer than she liked, Synna felt jealousy stir like a noxious soup inside her.

  No. Don’t do this. Now is not the time to let the green-eyed beast take over. Keep on your toes.

  Heidi winked at Synna, as if she knew a secret. “Are you dancing tonight, Ian?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  Ian tossed a grin at Synna and allowed Heidi to take his arm and lead him away to dance. Synna’s stomach lurched.

  Tyler walked toward the punch bowl and retrieved a couple of glasses for them. When he returned, he handed her a glass.

  She eyed the drink with suspicion. “It’s nonalcoholic, right?”

  “Yep.” He lifted one dark eyebrow. “You got something against spiked punch?”

  “Of course not, but tonight I’d like to be totally sober.”

  She gave the drink a tentative sip. Sure enough, nothing unusual in it. In fact, whoever had made the citrus punch assured the flavor wasn’t overwhelmed by sugar. She took another sip before a horrible idea formed. Would Tyler drug her? How could she know? Concerned, she made a face. “I don’t know about this punch. A little sour for me.”

  A small table not far away held several empty punch cups. She put hers down.

  “You don’t like it?” An almost hurt expression crossed is face.

  For a weredemon this guy played the spoiled syndrome a mile wide. “Like I said, it’s a little too sour for me.”

  Silence lengthened between them until she decided to engage him in conversation.

  “So, Tyler. Tell me more about your family.”

  He launched into a full-fledged explanation, and soon she found her thoughts drifting elsewhere as she caught a glance of Heidi and Ian dancing to a fast song.

  Admiration overran the jealousy hovering in the background. Even with the burden of a heavy costume, Ian’s hips moved, his body found rhythm. A flush burned her face and her body heated. His charisma and sexuality mesmerized her. Heidi looked enthralled. And, damn her, she looked fantastic undulating in a sensual, dramatic synchronicity that fit the music perfectly. Synna caught Tyler’s disapproving glance as he stared at the couple.

  “You’re certainly interested in them,” Tyler said.

  “What?”

  “You’re jealous of her. Why? You top her in looks any day.”

  “Well…I-I don’t know about that.”

  His eyes sparkled with unusual intelligence. Maybe she hadn’t given him enough credit.

  “You’re beautiful, Synna.” He put his punch on a table and moved closer to her. “I think you need someone to remind you.”

  She almost took a step back. “That’s sweet of you.”

  He gave her an indulgent smile. “No, it’s the truth.”

  Flattery wouldn’t get this man anywhere, though she heard sincerity in his voice. Could it be this weredemon felt genuine admiration?

  Oh great, Synna. That’s something you could tell your grandchildren one day. A weredemon liked you.

  “Come out on the patio and we can talk,” he said.

  Oh no. No. That wouldn’t do.

  “How about another dance?” she said and headed for the dance floor as a new song started. Maybe if she kept him distracted with dancing, he’d stop trying to kiss her.

  She allowed the weredemon to bring her into a fast dance, although her voluminous brown costume made it difficult. The pace brought up her heart rate, and then she realized how thirsty she’d become. She insisted on stopping for a glass of water, but once she’d gulped it down, Tyler urged her into another fast dance and then two more slow dances.

  She started to feel a little strange a few moments later, as if her head was unattached and floating. “Tyler, I’ve got to take a break. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

  “All right.”

  Right on cue, as if she’d set it up, Heidi strode up and snagged Tyler by the arm. “So did you get the ten dollars? I know you want your fortune read.”

  Tyler’s face went blank. “Uh—”

  “Come on.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Let’s get to it.”

  Heidi dragged him off, and as Heidi turned her head to glance back at Synna, she winked.

  What on earth? Is that supposed to be some sort of signal?

  It didn’t matter. She grabbed another glass of water and downed it, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

  Before she headed to the ladies’ room, she surveyed the vast room and didn’t see a sign of Ian. Disappointment made her pause, and she glanced around again. Damn, she hated this. How could she ever complete this assignment if she couldn’t keep it together long enough to help Ian capture Tyler?

  After she went into the restroom, patted cold water on her hot face, and refurbished her makeup, she felt a little better. Getting away from Tyler refreshed her body a thousandfold. She didn’t feel completely herself, but at least she didn’t have the sensation she might fall on her face any minute.

  Dim lighting in the hallway gave it a rosy glow, a weird cozy ambience of intimacy. She’d just reached an open door to one suite and realized it hadn’t been open and dark before. An arm reached out and grabbed her. Before she could squeak, the arm yanked her up against a steel-hard body. The light went on and the door slammed and locked.

  “What—?!”

  “Shh. It’s me.”

  Ian’s arm tightened around her waist and brought her up against his rock-solid body, and she sagged in relief. “What are you doing? You scared the crap out of me.”

  “I saw Tyler sniffing around the entrance to the suites, and I needed to see you before he monopolizes your time again.” He gazed down at her with a cross between exasperation and concern. “Are you all right?”

  She sighed. “I am now.”

  His searching gaze took her in, and she did the same with him. Sensual languor overtook her senses as she looked at his rugged form. “God, you look just like…”

  His cocky smile ruined the brooding and dangerous effect a little. “You were saying?”

  “You do look like a blond version of Aragorn in Lord of the Rings.”

  He laughed, throwing back his head and letting loose.

  Without trying to hide it, she allowed her gaze to do the same foray over his person that she’d done earlier. Glossy, thick hair shone with red highlights mixed with golden blond. Rugged and masculine, his face seemed carved from granite. Agelessness surrounded him, yet he seemed from the past, a warrior awaiting the pleasure of his lover. A soldier willing to do whatever it took to keep his woman safe.

  A shivery thrill darted through her stomach and settled straight between her legs. She licked her lips in apprec
iation.

  His stance, shoulders back and feet planted firmly, showed defiance and unparallel strength mixed with determination. Nothing got passed this man. As she took a chance and gazed into his eyes, she saw genuine concern that asked for her understanding and stirred her soul. She’d never seen him look more gorgeous, stronger or more invincible. Here was a man who would always enduringly save the day. An ache started in her heart. But would he deepen that caring? Would he ever feel for Synna the way she felt for him?

  “Come on, you’re not mad at me,” he said.

  She slipped her arms around his shoulders and relaxed a little, feeling safe in his arms. “No, I’m not mad. I’m flummoxed.”

  He laughed again. “Flummoxed. Now that’s a word you don’t hear every day.”

  When Synna frowned and didn’t respond, he traced his fingers along her jaw.

  Fine shivers racked her frame.

  “You look flushed. Sure you’re all right?” he asked.

  “I felt a little strange after dancing with him for a while.”

  “Strange?” The word came out sharp. “How?”

  “Overheated from doing too many dances in this wench outfit.”

  His mouth turned up at one corner, a flash of amusement in his eyes. He eased her back a little until he could see the front of the dress.

  “I like your dress. I would have told you earlier if demon boy hadn’t been standing there. I like the low-cut bodice.”

  He nuzzled her neck. As his lips lingered, a strong, blissful shudder moved through her body.

  “I’ve been watching you dance with him,” Ian said, his voice husky with concern. “I don’t like it. Damn it, I want you for my own.”

  His tongue lapped her earlobe, and she gasped at the tingling pleasure. His touch obliterated all her worries about this assignment and the party. Even the room, which she’d barely noticed as a deluxe accommodation with four-poster king-sized bed, a living area, a kitchenette and a whirlpool spa, ceased to exist for her. Only his arms, his touch, his heat, his breath meant anything. She neither saw nor felt anything but Ian.

  He worked his way down, kissing the hollow of her neck. His fingers caressed and pressed along her hips, searching for her body beneath layers of restricting fabric. Her small purse fell to the floor.

  “I saw you in this dress,” he whispered, “and I felt like my throat was closing up. You’re so damned sexy.”

  “Ian.” A tremulous breath parted her lips and unexpected tears came to her eyes. What could she say when her heart pounded and her breathing quickened to a furious pace?

  She slipped her fingers through his hair as it brushed against her breasts.

  His gaze burned with an intensity she’d never seen before.

  “You’re not jealous of Tyler?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Hell, no.” His voice roughened. “I’m…hell, yes. I’m jealous, and I’m worried about your safety, and when you told me about how you felt in his arms—fuck it.”

  He kissed her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ian skipped preliminary tastes. A full lip-lock with no pretenses heated her straight to the core.

  His lips tasted hers with relentless brushes of lip against lip, an assertive kiss that claimed at the same time it gave. Twisting from side to side, his mouth asked her for full response. Warm and searching, his kiss drew her into a fantasy world. Shivering in fine ecstasy, she undulated and pressed her hips against his. Passion exploded like dynamite, and she wanted him inside her with a relentless, hungry ache.

  Sweeping her tongue over his lips, she asked for his surrender and he gave it. His mouth opened and her tongue dipped inside. With a low growl, he took the kiss from another angle, and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Taken, she allowed his dominance, savoring the male, the savage need coursing through him. His tongue rubbed relentlessly over hers, mimicking a deep sexual cadence that screamed cock into pussy.

  Warmth pulsed through her nipples and they tightened into pinpoints while her pussy flooded with heated need. She clenched her vaginal muscles, dying to have him inside her this minute. Wet and aching, her body demanded fulfillment with frantic desires.

  Must have him.

  Must have him now, now, now.

  He rapidly bunched her skirts up in back. He slipped inside the back of her g-string panties and cupped her naked ass.

  She gasped into his mouth. Keeping one hand on her ass, squeezing and kneading, he reached up and eased her dress off her shoulders. He tugged until the bodice sagged down to her waist. With a quick movement she barely felt, her strapless bra sprung open in the back. Ian never stopped kissing her, and the sensation of tongue against tongue, his hand caressing her ass cheek, and one hand cupping her swollen breast about made her come there and then. They hurled along a path of no return and she craved it.

  Ian groaned into her mouth as he lightly gripped her nipple and pinched. She moaned softly and tore her mouth from his, out of breath, panting, aching. With a steady, soft motion of his fingers, he tugged her nipple with feather-soft touches. A steady throbbing began high inside her as her body prepared for the first thrust of his cock.

  Angling her hips toward his, she undulated, a motion she knew would drive him wild. If he could torment her into a first-class meltdown, she could make him frantic for her.

  “Sweetheart,” he murmured against her breast, the rasping deep sound pleading and almost agonized.

  Tightly, her throat aching from sensual overload, she whispered, “Ian.”

  “Now.”

  “Yes. Now.”

  One nipple he pleasured under his constant touch, the other he tongued. One lick. Two. Then a deep, steady sucking she thought would send her into a screaming orgasm. His hand kneaded her ass, then his fingers slipped between her butt cheeks and teased the tight rosette.

  “Oh shit!” Her gasp came out loudly. “Oh my God.”

  He stopped sucking her nipple and straightened. His hot breath gusted over her ear. “I’m not finished with you, Synna. You’ve been driving me insane all evening, and I’ll be damned if we’re leaving this room before you know you’re mine.”

  His possessive words shocked and delighted her. She once imagined being crazed like this, asked to give herself in unrestrained ways. Yet she’d never believed it would happen or that she’d want it with a fierceness beyond anything she could conjure in her wildest fantasies. In that moment, she knew the truth.

  She wanted his cock in her. In every way, in every position, in all the ways a man could take a woman.

  She would never want another man the way she desired Ian Frasier.

  He licked her earlobe, his words rough and packed with desperation. “I’ve got to have you.”

  Like a match to kindling, her desire exploded into full flower.

  He slid down her body and crawled under her skirts. She laughed, shaky and breathless. “What are you doing?”

  “Son of a bitch,” he breathed. “Crotchless. These panties are fucking crotchless.”

  He took a moment to push her skirts aside so he could look up at her and smile with pure male pleasure. “Have you had these panties for long?”

  “Since this morning.” She blushed, heat filling her face. “I bought them this morning at a boutique, along with the garter belt and stockings.”

  “I love it. At this rate you’re going to make me come in my pants.”

  He burrowed under her skirts again. He spread her legs wider. With his fingers and thumbs, he pressed her pussy lips open. She moaned softly, knowing what he would do next and wanting it so much she almost yelled at him to do it.

  He blew on her clit, and sweet, tight pleasure tingled through her, aching high inside her.

  Warm, hot tongue swept over her clit and she almost collapsed as her thighs shivered. She eased back against the door behind her and spread her thighs further apart. Another lick over her labia, first one side, then the other. Heat burst, shocking her as the tiny orgasm lit her from the inside
out. She moaned, unable to keep the sound from leaving her throat. She didn’t care if anyone knew she was in here getting her brains fucked out. Her heart wanted more with Ian, more love, more excitement, more life. She couldn’t think beyond the hot, unbelievable sensation of his tongue relentlessly tasting between her legs. His tongue pushed and entered her pussy, thrusting and retreating in a relentless beat like cock into pussy. She writhed in his hold, the feelings overwhelming. Two fingers eased into her, pushing up, up until she gasped.

  “Ian. Oh my God.”

  She couldn’t breathe, caught up in the tremendous sensation of his fingers pushing in and out, fucking her with steady, slow strokes while his tongue fluttered over her clit, then took long, leisurely laps.

  He stopped.

  Ian crawled out from under her skirts, and she took a good look at the man who tortured her with sensual pleasure. His eyes gleamed with heated awareness, an animal quality that thrilled at the same time it frightened her in the way every male could scare a woman with his mating lust. His nostrils flared, his lips wet with her juices. He licked his lips and his eyes closed as he heaved a deep breath. His cock pushed against his breeches.

  “Please, don’t stop,” she said, not caring that she begged.

  A cocky smile moved over his lips. “A nuke could go off now and nothing would keep me from you.”

  Tears surged into her eyes, happiness flooding her heart.

  He stripped off his clothing, tossing the garments onto the chair until all he wore was his breeches and boots. He removed his belt and sword and placed them carefully on top of his clothes. His naked chest, powerful, his arms bulging with muscle, he leaned his hands against the door behind her and caged her in.

  “Turn around, sweetheart.”

  She turned and pressed against the door, tucked between his arms. He leaned down and helped her remove her flats. She kicked them aside. His hands lingered on her stockings, held up by the garter belt.

  “God, fucking stockings. These make me so hot.”

  Pleased, she laughed softy. “Everything you could want.”

  She felt him working to undo the breeches. She wanted his naked cock inside her so much she almost begged him to take her. She didn’t have long to wait. His broad cock head parted her pussy lips.

 

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