Pleasure sank its claws into him, making it impossible to keep from tightening his fingers in the soft fall of her hair. "Slower," he whispered, tugging her head back until her mouth barely covered the head of his cock. "I'm not ready to come yet. Not until I'm inside your cunt again."
Zahra released him and leaned closer, until his shaft nestled between her breasts. Her tongue skimmed over the head of his cock again, and she looked up at him. "We have time to do both."
Not nearly time enough. Jarek dropped his fingers to the curve of her breast and pinched her nipple until she gasped and shuddered. "Has it been so long since the last time you served Luna in a bed? Only one thing soothes a wolf on the edge, and it isn't his own pleasure."
Her cheeks reddened. "I know I ask too much. I want too much."
And he'd give it to her because he didn't know how to stop. "Then we'll have to take turns."
She hesitated before rising and climbing past him, onto the bed. "I forgot the most important part of your visit."
"What part's that?"
Zahra rolled onto her side, a plush pillow tucked under her head and one graceful hand draped over the swell of her hip. She spoke the traditional words in a voice edged with breathless excitement. "I'm at your mercy, warrior."
The breath left him in a rush. He admired her for a moment, letting his gaze trace the bronzed skin covering sleek curves. "I'm not a warrior," he whispered, but the reminder seemed false. He might not be a warrior, but he could feel the scars of one on his heart.
Touching her would heal them.
"Not a warrior?" A crease formed on her brow. "Because you spend your time healing? Then I suppose I'm not a priestess, since I do the same."
Jarek reached up a finger to smooth over her forehead. "I fight in my way, and you serve Luna in yours. I'm just...not used to this. The violence doesn't build in me. I've been to the Temple once before in my life."
"But we do more than offer release." The frown disappeared. "We're also here to remind you that there is as much pleasure in the world as pain. Don't you need that, Jarek?"
The gaping hole in his memory suggested he did. He stroked his fingers down her cheek and over her mouth and felt a smile tug at his lips. "Maybe."
She leaned up. "Then I am at...your...mercy." She punctuated every word with a kiss.
He caught her lower lip between his teeth and growled as he urged her back to the bed. The words seemed more than mere ritual, especially when he felt her power wind around him. It smoothed the roughest edges off his pain even as it lured the beast, taunting with the promise of pleasure.
And Zahra began to fulfill that promise with a slow, sweet kiss. Her fingers threaded through his hair, and her legs tangled with his. "You haven't changed so much," she whispered against his cheek. "You feel the same to me."
He tasted her skin and reveled in the way she shivered when he dragged his tongue over her throat. "How do I feel?"
"Intense, but gentle." She shivered again. "Strong."
It made him smile as he nipped at her collarbone before indulging himself with a careful exploration of her full breasts. He loved the way she arched toward him as he cupped warm flesh and teased at her tight nipple, loved it even more when he gave her a hint of teeth and she whimpered softly.
She writhed under him, responding to each lick and nip with ever louder moans. Finally, she dug her nails into his shoulders and panted his name. "Is this what being at your mercy means?"
He'd barely touched her in a fraction of the ways he'd dreamed about. "Yes." He whispered the word against her hip as he stroked his fingers up her thighs, teasing caresses that stopped just short of her cunt. "Do you want me to touch you?"
"Yes," she hissed, twisting as she tried to angle her hips under his hands. He curled his fingers around her thigh and held her still as he nipped his way back up her side. His hand tightened in the mass of disheveled hair cascading over the pillow, and he lifted his head so he could watch her face as he finally brushed his fingers along her wet folds.
She cursed and lifted her hips to his touch. "Jarek, yes--please--"
He wanted to see the look in her eyes when she came this time. "I could listen to you beg for hours." He found her clit and teased at it with his fingertips.
Heat flashed in her eyes. "You wouldn't."
"Are you sure?"
Her laugh sounded more like a groan. "You probably would, just to see how loudly I'd scream."
"And how loudly would you scream?" He slicked his fingers down and pushed two inside her before bringing his thumb back up to rub her clit.
Zahra jerked and trembled as her cheeks and chest flushed red. "I wouldn't, not until I could take it anymore."
He had the patience to discover just how long that took. His cock might be hard and aching, but the temptation to sheathe himself inside her was nothing compared to the enchanting idea of having her truly at his mercy.
He crooked his fingers inside her and watched her face as he started a careful exploration. It didn't take him long to find a spot inside her that brought her shoulders off the bed and made her cry out in tense pleasure.
She bit her lip to choke off her cries and stared up at him "Fuck," she panted. "If I start screaming, will you stop?"
Jarek tightened his fingers in her hair and found that spot again, determined to drive her over the edge. "Not even if you beg."
A low, tortured moan slipped free of her, and she tugged him closer. Her teeth closed on his jaw, the bite just short of savage. "I don't beg."
A challenge. The wildness inside him rose to the surface in a heartbeat. He bared his teeth and growled. "You will before I'm done with you."
She was breathing hard, her hips bucking against his hand, and her mouth skimmed over to his ear. "Make me."
"Oh sweetheart..." He bit her ear and eased a third finger into her, careful to avoid the spot that had made her arch. He brought his thumb back to her clit, slow and taunting. "First, I'll make you beg for me to let you come. Then I'll make you beg for the pleasure to stop."
She'd pushed him, and now he was pushing back. Zahra tried to move her hips, to angle them so that Jarek's caresses brought her closer to orgasm, but he held her still. She couldn't stop the soft moan of protest that slipped free before she bit her lip.
As quickly as that his hands were gone. She felt his fingers curl around her wrist, and he guided her hand up toward the bed frame. "I think I'll make sure you can't move too much before I really get started."
He was chaining her again. She rolled her body up against his and moaned again. "Jarek--"
He secured one wrist, then paused to bite the swell of her breast hard enough to mark her. A low chuckle rumbled out of him as he moved to her other wrist. "I broke the clasp on the chain. Thoughtful of them to have extras right here on the headboard."
He'd do it. He'd drag out the pleasure, taunting her with every touch until she did break. Until she begged him to stop or for more. Bound to the bed, there was only one thing she could do to tease him in return. "I thought about fucking you."
"Did you?" When he had both hands restrained, he sat back between her legs and stared down at her, a dark, dangerous edge to his smile. "When did you think about that?"
"Every day for damn near three years."
He curled his fingers under her thighs and pulled them wide. "And how did I fuck you in your fantasies?"
She licked her lips slowly. "I have a good imagination, Jarek. There aren't many things I didn't think of. But my favorite...was against the wall."
"Hard and fast?" He slid two fingers into her again as he hooked his other hand under her knee and lifted her leg. "Is that what you like?"
"Yes. Not always, but..." She closed her eyes and choked back a moan. "I used to fantasize that you'd walk me home after study group. But instead of leaving, you'd start kissing me, and--and all we could manage was to get through the door before you had to be inside me."
"I would have." He pushed her leg toward her
chest, leaving her spread wide open for him. His fingers crooked inside her, finding that spot again for just long enough to make her arch as a streak of heat shot through her.
Frustration made her grind her teeth. "But you didn't. I thought you might when you finally kissed me..."
"I had to go to the front lines." He added a third finger again, stretching her, thrusting slowly in and out. "But I had dreams that night too."
She forgot that she was supposed to be tormenting him with her words, forgot everything but his maddening touch and the words that set fire to her. "Dreams? Tell me."
He laughed and skated his thumb over her clit. "Beg."
Zahra shook her head. "No."
"Stubborn?" He eased his hand away from her body and lifted it to his lips. His gaze never wavered from her face as he licked his fingers clean. "Too bad. You taste good."
The ache he left behind sharpened to the point of pain, and she whimpered as something inside her twisted and then relaxed. Surrendered. "Please," she whispered, her voice raw and needy. "Jarek, please."
He rewarded her with a low growl of pleasure as he lifted her hips and thrust into her. It wrenched a scream from her along with a sweet, hot burst of pleasure that curled her toes. The chains rattled as she jerked against them, and she felt as though she couldn't get enough air into her lungs.
Jarek didn't move, just stayed deep inside her and stroked her through the orgasm with soft touches. When her body stilled he smiled down at her and smoothed his hand up her leg. "I love listening to you scream."
She could barely speak. "It must do wonders for your manly ego."
"It's not about my ego," he whispered. "It's about your pleasure."
Simple. Direct. Zahra shuddered and rocked up against him. "Tell me you wanted me as much as I wanted you."
"More." He pulled back a tiny bit before thrusting back in. "I wanted you more. But you weren't mine to have."
"That doesn't matter now." She gripped the chains and lifted into his next thrust. "This is what matters."
Jarek hissed out a breath and dropped both hands to hold her hips. "Then stop rushing me. I need..." His fingers tightened, lifting her a little, and the head of his cock bumped her G-spot. She cried out his name and fell back to the bed as pleasure streaked through her. Satisfaction filled his eyes as he began a rocking grind, his cock never losing contact with that sensitive spot. "Come."
She was beyond power games, beyond trying to maintain some semblance of control. Her body was his to command, and she let go. "Yes. Yes, please--Jarek--"
The power was blinding. It snapped through the room and through Zahra, releasing in a rush of spine-tingling magic that echoed as he roared his release and sent her spiraling over the edge again.
By the time she'd begun to drift down, he was bent over her, one trembling arm holding up his weight as he used the other hand to free her wrists. Then he collapsed, his weight still half on her, and Zahra slid her arms around his neck.
Jarek's lips brushed her shoulder. "You're amazing."
Her limbs felt heavy, and sleep tugged at her, but she laughed a little. "That's much better than 'adequate.'"
"Who would ever call you merely adequate at anything?"
"My trainer." He'd been less than impressed, and had told her she'd be better off healing.
He propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her with a slight frown. "You wouldn't let me say I wasn't a warrior."
"And I didn't say I wasn't a priestess." His eyes were fascinating. Sometimes they were sharp and assessing, the blue almost like ice, and other times they were warm, like the sea. Like now. "I do my part, but no one would ever say I was skilled at this, Jarek."
"I would." He cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb along her lower lip. "Without reservation."
She found herself smiling despite the tiny chill that unfurled inside her. He was calm, and that meant he'd soon be leaving. "You're biased."
"Mmm, maybe. A little."
Zahra stroked the side of his face and tried to memorize its lines and angles. "I'm sorry you had to come here the way you did, but I'm glad I got to see you again."
Something flashed in his eyes, and he lowered himself down to the bed. "I still don't... I feel better. The beast is calm. But I don't remember anything."
When--or even whether--his memories would return was anyone's guess. She rolled over to rest her head on his shoulder. "Sleep. You need the rest."
She felt his lips brush over her hair. "You don't mind if I stay?"
Her chest tightened. Don't go. "Just for a little while."
"Just for a little while," he agreed quietly.
They both had duties, responsibilities, and he would have to go soon. Zahra knew it was useless to want him, but it didn't matter. Futility had never stopped her from wanting Jarek, and she knew now that it never would. "A little while," she whispered again, and drifted to sleep.
In dreams, everything belongs to warm embraces and happy endings. His hands on her skin and cries from her lips, only better in dreams because their passion has no expiration date. Just a man and a woman and bliss unfolding into months that become years that become forever.
He knows the dreams aren't real, but the nightmares are. The warm skin of the woman is gone. In nightmares, skin is covered in blood, rent and torn and magic isn't enough and science isn't enough and the bleeding never stops.
But the body before him isn't a warrior, isn't even a man. The boy cries for his mother, weaker and weaker as the blood pools under the makeshift table, and on the other side of the grimy tent his mother stares up at nothing. Twenty-two years old, at most. A girl, a human girl torn apart by human explosives, and her silence is a judgment.
He isn't enough.
Outside the tent isn't silence, it's screams. Screams as three warriors are executed for turning the human's weapons on their women and children, but the screams can't save the boy. Magic isn't enough. Science isn't enough. Vengeance isn't enough.
He isn't enough.
Blood runs from the table. Drips from the table. Tiny little splashes, farther and farther apart, and louder because the boy's not crying anymore. Not breathing anymore. Not living anymore.
Eight children died under his hands. The ninth might take him along for the ride.
Death could be enough.
Jarek woke her with his screaming.
Zahra slid off the bed, instinctively moving away to protect them both. He sprang off the bed in the opposite direction, taking the slippery sheets with him. His back hit the wall, and magic rippled through the room as he howled and began to shift.
The change came easily to wolves under the power of the moon or warriors in the heat of bloodlust, but nothing seemed easy about Jarek's transformation. His scream turned to agony, and he hit the floor on his hands and knees with bones twisting and fur rippling over skin.
Outside in the hallway, someone pounded on the door and called her name. Zahra hesitated, torn. If she answered the guard, they'd take Jarek away, and he wouldn't be allowed in her bedchamber again. Instead, she stayed low on the floor and crawled to the end of the bed. "Jarek."
He snarled and came to his feet, a dark wolf with pale eyes and the power to tear out her throat.
Zahra started to reach out and froze. If he'd slipped back into darkness, there was no guarantee he'd still remember her. And approaching a snarling wolf was madness.
But she still bore his scent, if nothing else. His marks. So she pulled back her hand and waited.
The noises in the hallway had grown more frantic. Soon someone would find an override and unlock her door, but for now she was alone. The wolf studied her in silence before stepping forward to nuzzle her shoulder, and she slid her fingers through his fur.
He was warm under her cheek, and Zahra made a soft, soothing noise even as her heart twisted with pain and sympathy. "It's all right," she whispered as she stroked him. "Whatever happened, you're all right now. I'll help you, no matter what it takes."
>
He whined, the sound vulnerable and full of pain. But the gentleness in his body disappeared when the door behind them whispered open.
"Zahra!" Balthasar's voice came from behind her. "Move away."
The wolf bared his teeth and snarled.
"If you come closer, Balthasar, he'll attack." She didn't budge from the spot, didn't look up or stop petting Jarek. "Leave us."
"Sorry, Zahra. The high priestess outranks everyone within the walls of the Temple, even you. And my orders were clear." Boots scraped against the floor, and Jarek lunged, diving between her and the intruder with an angry growl.
"No!" She came to her knees and pounded the floor with her fist. "Damn it, wait outside. Leave the door open if you must, but go away."
Balthasar had a dart gun aimed at the wolf. For several endless moments there was no sound but the low, angry rumbling from the wolf and the harsh breathing of the guard. Then he sighed and lowered his hand. "By the Goddess, girl, you're going to get me killed." But he backed away until his footsteps took him out through the doorway.
She breathed a sigh of relief and held out a hand to Jarek. "Please."
He trembled but he came to her, inching across the intervening space with most of his attention still fixed on the door. Only when Balthasar stayed safely outside did he bump his nose against her hand.
Sadness welled in her again, and her hands trembled on his fur. "My Goddess, Jarek. What did you see?"
Terror. Desperation. I'll never be enough.
The thoughts echoed in her head, and she started as she realized they'd formed a bond, a telepathic link. Images flashed in her mind, memories that must have belonged to him, and she covered her face with her hands. "No."
Blood, so much blood. Disjointed cries, pleas. Screams. A sob tore free of Zahra when she realized the memories were of children, wounded and dying.
Dying.
I'll never be enough.
Magic swelled, along with the pained sound of another transformation. Too soon to be smart, too soon to be safe, but when she opened her eyes she saw Jarek through her tears, kneeling on the floor and panting for breath.
Savage Need (Temple of Luna, #2) Page 3