He shoved off the wall and sauntered to me. For a man his size, hell, for a human, he moved far too silently, far too easily, far too at ease in his skin. He dipped his head until we were eye to eye, then he murmured, “Or what, princess?”
His mouth twisted in a smirk as he reached past me and snagged a bottle of beer. I could feel my hand curling into a fist and I was a little amazed at just how much I wanted to hit him. How much I was tempted to do it, just to see the shock on his face when I sent him flying back across the room. I refused, and just stood there, counting silently as he sauntered across the room and leaned against the counter opposite me.
“So, let’s try this again. How did you find me?” he asked, watching me with that same smirk.
I closed the refrigerator and leaned against the other counter. “I already did. What’s your name?”
“Jack. Yours?”
“Perci.” Then I scowled and looked down at the beer I held. Why had I told him that?
“Perci…” he murmured. Something flickered in the depths of his beautiful eyes, there, then gone again, so fast. Too fast for me to quite understand what it was. He shook his head and then looked at me again. “How did you find my place, Perci?”
“I already told you.” I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t you tell about what I saw earlier?”
Without batting an eyelash, he said, “What, is there something wrong with your eyesight, princess?”
Anger—irrational and incomprehensible—rolled through me. Slamming my beer down, I stormed across the floor and glared at him. “Don’t call me that,” I said, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.
That arrogant smirk on his face as he took another swig of his beer was like glass scraping across raw skin.
“Yeah, yeah, so you’ve said. Look, I’m tired. If you’re not going to be straight with me, then do me a favor and get out, okay, honey?”
“Honey?” I gaped at him. And what…was he calling me a liar? Planting my hands on my hips, I glared. “I already told you how I found you. You think I somehow managed to plant a bug up your ass in the two seconds we were in the alley together?”
“Hmm. The idea occurred to me. Although if you feel the need to do anything to my ass, you’re welcome to…just no bugs.” Then he winked at me. “Unless you ask me really nice. Who knows, maybe I’d like it.”
Heat rushed up my neck, stained my cheeks. Holy hell, I was blushing.
He reached out, brushed the tip of his finger over my lip.
Inside my chest, my heart started to race.
Oh, hell.
“All of a sudden, you’re not quite so mouthy, Perci,” he murmured, his voice rougher, lower.
And he was closer. When had he gotten closer?
Blood pounded in my ears.
Roared.
He was so close…I could feel his body heat. I could smell him. Then he was touching me.
One big hand was cupping my chin, angling my face back so that I was meeting his gaze…that smoky, deep gaze.
“What’s the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?” He reached up and toyed with my pendant, and part of me wanted to smack that big hand of his away. But the other part…as long as he kept touching me, what did I care?
“I’ve got a name,” I said. I licked my lips and almost groaned when his gaze dropped to my mouth.
Then I did groan, because he dipped his head and pressed his mouth to mine.
Shit.
No. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
His tongue stroked over my lower lip and I opened for him. Those big hands of his gripped my waist and lifted me, hauling me against him, hard and tight and close. One forearm rested just under my ass while his free hand stroked under the hemline of my shirt and stroked my back. The heat of him threatened to scald me. Mark me.
No. This wasn’t good…it was so beyond good it was frightening.
And I knew I needed to get the hell away from him.
But I couldn’t.
Her mouth…
Jack shuddered as her mouth opened under his. She tasted like cinnamon and cream and honey and heaven and damn it, he didn’t think he’d get enough of that taste. Then she tore her mouth away from his and he growled, reached up and fisted his hand in her short, silken hair. “Kiss me,” he muttered against her cheek.
“This is insane,” she whispered.
“Yeah. Don’t care. Kiss me.”
A sigh shuddered out of her. “I can’t be doing this.” Her shoulders rose and fell and Jack found himself staring at those sleek, pale curves. Soft…
Without realizing it, he found himself lowering his head and pressing his mouth to one shoulder, left all but bare by the skinny strap of her tank. Soft…smooth. Hmmm.
He touched his tongue to her skin. She stiffened, then shuddered.
Turning around, he walked blindly until he could put her down on the counter by the refrigerator. Lifting his head, he stared into her dark eyes, watched her face as he slid his hand under the hem of her shirt. Simple, basic cotton—nothing fancy, and yet it would be a pleasure to peel away from her.
An image flashed through his mind.
Her…her hair long and luxurious. Her lean body had been softer then, clad in a lush gown of velvet.
A man was with her, and he was peeling that velvet away from her body. Slowly. Teasingly. And watching her with a look of such love and awe. They knelt together on a blanket.
He could see them—had seen them. Watched…wanted. Loved.
It hit him in the gut like a punch and he should have pulled away.
Would have pulled away.
But then Perci rested her hands on his forearms, stroked up. The image shattered, fell away under her touch. Need and hunger swamped him. She cupped his face in her hands and tugged his mouth to hers.
“I thought you said this was insane,” he muttered against her lips. Pull away, Jack. Something strange is going on here, man.
“It is. I’ll figure it out later.” She caught his hands and guided them to her breasts. “Touch me…damn it, please touch me. I… Shit, I feel alive when you’re touching me.”
There was something so broken, so raw in her voice.
He couldn’t not touch her. Couldn’t not cup her face in his hands, lift it to his and brush his lips over hers. “I think I like the taste of you,” he muttered. “The feel of you.”
He wanted to make love to her…gentle, slow. Needed it.
But she didn’t want gentle. Greedy, hungry, she skimmed her hands down his sides, grabbed the hem of his shirt and jerked it up and over his head. As she bared his chest, she leaned forward and nipped at his nipple with sharp teeth. “I don’t want slow, and I don’t want soft and sweet words. Fuck me,” she said, tipping her head back and staring at him.
She scraped her nails over the denim-covered ridge of his cock and Jack shuddered. Reaching down, he closed his hand around her wrist. “Is there any reason to rush?” he muttered against her mouth.
She cupped him with her other hand and squeezed.
Groaning, he caught that hand as well and then penned them behind her back. He lifted his head to stare down into her glittering, hungry eyes. “What’s the rush, princess?”
She snarled at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Fuck, but I think it turns me on when you glare at me,” he muttered, dipping his head and nipping her lower lip. Then he licked it with his tongue and kissed a trail down along her chin, her neck, until he could bite her gently through her bra. “I want to see you naked.”
“Then let go of my hands and I’ll get naked.”
He smiled at the command in her voice. “And what if I’d rather be the one to get you naked?” He let go of her hands, but before she could take care of her shirt, he did it by reaching up and grabbing the neckline. He smiled down into her eyes and watched the surprise flicker as he tore the thin cotton apart.
Her breath caught in her throat and she glanced down, stared at the torn tank top before loo
king back up at him. “You forgot something.” Then a smirk twisted her mouth. “Although I bet you can’t tear the bra quite so easy. They make them pretty sturdy.”
That smirk…damn but it turned him on, and he was already so fucking hot, he hurt. “I can think of a way to get it off.” Holding her gaze, he reached up and grabbed one of the blades he had on the refrigerator.
He kept sharp, shiny objects in a variety of places all over his house. It had saved his ass a time or two.
But this time, it proved to be worth it for a different reason.
As he pulled the blade down and slipped the tip of it under her bra, he watched her eyes widen, watched as her lashes fluttered.
“You scared?” he teased.
Not that he really thought she would be, and he wasn’t surprised when her brown eyes opened and she smiled at him. “Of you? No way in hell.”
Keeping the knife still, he watched her. “Should I stop?” All it would take was the slightest bit of pressure, just the slightest bit.
“If you stop, how are you going to finish getting me naked?”
He gave the slightest flick of his wrist and watched as the blade cut through the lace and silk. Her eyes went dark, and as he reached up and pushed the straps off her shoulders, she smiled at him.
Holy hell.
Just one look from her was enough to make him weak in the knees.
He laid the knife down and she glanced at it, flicked him a look from under her lashes. “What, you’re not going to cut my pants off too?”
“Don’t tempt me,” he muttered. He reached up, fisted his hand in the waistband of her jeans and tugged her forward. She slid off, keeping her palms resting on the counter as he unbuttoned her jeans and started to slide them down. His mouth went dry as he realized something. “You’re not wearing any panties.”
“No. Is that a problem?”
“Shit, no.” But if he’d realized she was naked under that denim, he might have lost his mind even sooner.
She was naked thirty seconds later.
Jack just about went to his knees—might have done just that so he could press his mouth to the curls that covered her sex, but she was still watching him with that taunting smile.
He wanted, needed, to see just how much more he could push her.
Grasping her waist, he turned them around and rested his hips against the counter. “Your turn,” he said, his voice hoarse.
She grinned at him and then glanced at the knife. “And are you going to trust me if I decide to start cutting your clothes off?”
Jack knew she wouldn’t need it. But he shrugged. “You didn’t seem worried when you saw me with it. I think it’s safe.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t be so trusting, Jack,” she murmured, reaching for the knife and trailing the tip of it across his belly.
The muscles quivered in response, but he just smiled. She wasn’t about to do anything stupid with that blade and he knew it—of course, she didn’t realize he knew what she was.
“Why not, darlin’? I don’t think you’re going to do anything too bad with it, but whatever you’re going to do? Hurry it up. I’m dying here.”
Then he dropped his gaze and stared at the pale, sweet curves of her breasts. “Slowly and painfully dying.”
A flush settled on her cheeks and she set the knife down, reached for the button on his jeans. “You look pretty healthy to me.”
As she lowered the zipper to his jeans, her breath caught in her throat and she shot him a glance.
“Okay,” I muttered. “Very healthy.”
My belly cramped as I thought about taking him inside me.
Hard. Rough. Fast.
That was what I wanted—what I needed.
He could give me that, and damn it, he would. I pushed his jeans and the snug-fitting boxers he wore out of the way, just past the hard, taut muscle of his ass. Then I bent over and caught the head of his cock in my mouth, listened as he grunted, first in shock, then in pleasure, as I started to suck on him. His hand stroked down my back, rested on the flare of my hip, kneading the flesh lightly.
Salty, sweaty and hard…
I sucked and licked and nipped his flesh until he started to rock against my mouth and then I straightened and stared at him. Because I’d already figured out that it drove him crazy, I smirked at him.
He reached out and hauled me to him, his mouth slanting against mine. He growled against my lips. “You’re trying to drive me nuts,” he muttered. “I know it.”
I rubbed against him, wished I was taller. I could feel his length at my belly and I wanted him inside me. I rocked against him, desperate. Screw this. I braced my hands on his shoulders and jumped, using my knees to grip his hips and that—oh, hell yes…
I reached down and gripped him, held him steady.
“Damn it, stop,” he muttered, banding one arm around me and pressing tight. But it couldn’t stop me. I wouldn’t let it.
Then I found myself on my feet, my head spinning at how fast it happened, how fast he moved.
“Slow down,” he muttered against my ear. He stroked a hand down my side. “Would you slow down? I’ve barely had a chance to touch you, to taste you…”
“I just want you to fuck me,” I snarled.
“You can’t always have your way, princess.” Then he tried to kiss me.
I bit him. Hard. “I told you not to call me that.” I glared at him.
Something glittered in his eyes. A weird mix of rage and heat and hunger…and it made me burn so much hotter.
Lifting my chin, I said, “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
“Oh, you bet your darling little ass I am…princess,” he purred. Then, before I could blink, he had me bent over the counter.
I caught my breath. It was all I had time for, and then he was pressing against me, pushing inside me…and oh, shit—he was big, thick. Heavy. Stretching me.
With one hand resting low on my spine, he held me still as he fed me one slow, inexorable inch after another. I keened and shifted my hips, reaching down to brace my elbows on the counter, thinking to lift up, anything to ease the pressure.
He stilled, then reached up, caught one wrist, then the other. “You wanted to get fucked,” he muttered in my ear. “Fine. You’re getting fucked, and right now, it’s my way.”
I shoved back against him and jerked on my wrists. “Let me go.”
“No way.” He tightened his grip and started to withdraw, then pressed against me again, harder. Deeper. Faster.
My breath caught.
He did it again. Again. And that was when I realized he was still being cautious, that I still hadn’t taken all of him. Swearing, I twisted my hips against him, tried to take him deeper. Desperate for it. Desperate for him—all of him.
But as I pushed back, he retreated as well.
“Damn it, what are you waiting for?” I snarled.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Hell, maybe that was what I wanted—maybe I even needed it.
I tugged against his hold and shot him a look over my shoulder the best I could. “I can handle anything you think you can give me,” I whispered. Then I clenched down, using my muscles to milk his cock. It had been years since I’d deliberately set out to drive a man wild…but I still knew how. Milking him with my pussy, smirking at him—
“Brat,” he muttered. “Stop it.”
I didn’t. I could almost hear it when his patience snapped. He growled low in his throat and started to slam into me, harder. Faster. I tried to get my hands under me, tried to brace myself, but he caught my wrists again, leaned over me. I could feel him…all of him. Pressed hard and tight and firm against me while his cock dug into me, stroking deep, deep, so fucking deep. I cried out, squeezed my eyes shut as hot, brilliant pleasure stormed through me.
It was heaven…and it was hell, because in the back of my mind, I knew I shouldn’t feel this, shouldn’t want more of this, shouldn’t crave more of this…of him.
Tears burn
ed my eyes and I begged, “More, damn it. Please. Oh, please…”
His breath was hot on my ear. My neck. He bit my shoulder and muttered, “Yeah, princess. I’ll give you more. Say my name.”
“Jack,” I whispered.
I didn’t even care that he’d called me princess. He could call me whatever in the hell he wanted as long as he kept touching me.
And then he let go of me. Stopped. He pulled away and I could have cried.
“What…what are you doing?” Damn it, I was going cry. Either that or I was going to attack him and beat him bloody if he didn’t touch me, come back to me…something…
But then he lifted me in arms and took me to the floor. “I need more than that,” he whispered, stretching me out.
That plain linoleum floor could have been a bed of roses for all the care he gave me. I could have dressed in silk and velvet and lace, the way his eyes gleamed as he stared down at me. He lay between my thighs and when he pressed his mouth to my sex, I cried out.
No. I couldn’t…no.
Hard, driving sex was one thing…but the tenderness, that was something else.
“Damn it, stop,” I begged him.
“Not on your life.” He licked my clit. “Not on mine.”
I brought my knees up, fisted my hands in his hair. Pull away, I told myself. I could do that, could make myself do it.
Except I couldn’t. As he pressed his tongue against me, inside me, all I could manage was to lie there…and take it…and enjoy. When he made me come, I cried out. And when he came back up over me, I clutched him close, needed to feel his weight.
But even as he brought me to climax again, even as he came, I knew it wasn’t enough.
I hadn’t felt this alive in far, far too long.
And it was going to hurt far, far too much to lose it again.
I had no right.
None.
Chapter Four
Will wasn’t surprised when somebody else joined him at the cabin.
And he wasn’t surprised at who it was either.
Glancing up, he met Sina’s blue gaze. He wasn’t surprised at the censure he saw there either.
Her gifts were those of sights.
Tarnished Knight: Grimm's Circle, Book 4 Page 3