Naked

by Alexandra Christian

  When he let her go, Phoe stumbled, holding his arm while her head cleared. The flutter in the pit of her belly pulsed, and all she wanted to do was kiss him again. And again.

  “I’m sorry, Phoe,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across his lips.

  “Don’t apologize,” she said. Her voice was raspy, almost unrecognizable to her ears.

  She could still feel the tingling of his rough cheek against hers. No one had ever kissed her that way, and her body responded with heated pressure that dripped down into the valley between her thighs.

  Oh, that fluttering pleasure Phoe believed she would never feel rose in her blood and she wanted more. Before she could stop herself, she threw her body against his. Cage welcomed her into his arms, pulling her close with almost a sigh of relief.

  Arching into the embrace, Phoe pressed her mouth to his. This time there was no hesitation. He returned the kiss with a furor that was almost frightening. His long fingers tangled in the mass of hair at the back of her neck and tugged lightly, slowing her pace with gentle direction. She whimpered softly against his lips, so aroused by his touch.

  Slowly his hand traveled down her back to rest on the curve of her ass, then slid lower, pressing her center into him. Such an intimate caress gave her pause. That scared little voice in the back of her mind screamed for her to run, but her body wouldn’t allow it.

  “I should leave you,” he whispered, his lips working softly against her cheek as he spoke. “Before it’s too late.”

  “Please, don’t go,” she replied, nuzzling into his neck. The scent of his skin, made more potent by his desire, was an intoxicant and she felt drunk. “Stay with me.”

  He smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “You don’t mean that. I learned a long time ago not to make rash decisions when you’re under stress.”

  “I don’t care,” she whispered. “I want to feel something more than this cold terror.” She stared up into his eyes. “It’s been a long time since I felt safe, Cage. But I trust you. I can be safe with you.”

  * * *

  “I can be safe with you.”

  Phoebe’s words echoed in the corners of his mind, and for a moment he wished it could be true. If only she knew how dreadfully unsafe she was.

  Cage was neither comfortable nor familiar with what safe felt like. As a boy he’d always been the one taking risks. Jumping off the roof of his parents’ garage just to see if he could fly. Putting his hand in the fire to see how long he could stand it. It wasn’t in his nature to go with the safe route, and one should never go against his nature. A wise man had once uttered, “To thine own self be true.”

  Cage knew he was doomed to be who he was no matter how hard he tried to hide behind the veneer of safety. To escape his reality would tear at cosmic threads, and everything would slowly unravel.

  He knew this to be true. It had happened before.

  Corinne and Lily had been the victims of his attempt at escaping his fate.

  Phoe’s arms felt so good wrapped around him. All the things he’d longed for but could never have were reflected in the pools of her beautiful green eyes. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her off to bed, but he knew better.

  “Phoe. I…”

  Her eyes grew wide. “Oh…my God,” she stammered, covering her face and stepping back from him. “How silly of me to think someone like you…”

  Her cheeks were flushed, and he could tell that she was taking his hesitation as rejection. “Phoebe, it’s not that.”

  She harrumphed then turned shaking her head. “No, it’s okay, really. You aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last—”

  He reached out, grabbed her arm, and tried to turn her around, but she shrugged him off. “You misunderstand.”

  “No, I don’t think I do,” she replied, starting to pace nervously about the room. “I mean, why would you be interested in me? I’m just a mealy-mouthed librarian who can’t even take care of herself.”

  “I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  “You don’t have to say it,” she said. “And you’re right. I can’t. I’m terrified. Of everything. This place. Of what’s going to happen to us. Of you. Of me. It’s like you said before. I’m just a scared little girl.”

  Cage reached for her again, and this time she let him pull her in close, but she stared down at the floor. She appeared to be bracing herself for some kind of rebuke, so he softened his voice.

  “I was wrong, Phoe. You’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever known. Taking off without a thought to a distant planet to save your sister. Not a lot of people would have done that, you know. Most people would have gone to the police and then cried silent tears at her funeral.”

  “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

  “I never lie to spare another’s feelings, Phoe. You’ve known me only a short time, but surely you know this. And, by the way, you’ve stood up to me several times, and I can tell you that there aren’t many who would dare. And the way you threw yourself at that zombie? Don’t tell me that you’re a frightened little girl. I’m the one who’s afraid.”

  “You?”

  “Does it surprise you? Trust me when I tell you, I’m not good at keeping those I care about alive. The reason I’m in this situation is because I was weak and I wanted the strength to seek vengeance. I’m afraid if I let myself care for you that I’ll be blinded by that caring, so much that I won’t be able to protect you.”

  Phoe shook her head, her expression determined. She took his arm, wrapping it around her waist once more.

  “Aren’t you tired of being afraid? I am. I’m beginning to see that once you’ve stared into the face of all your fears, what’s the point in running anymore?”

  She arched her back, stretching up on the tips of her toes to crush her lips against his. This time there would be no turning back.

  The blood rushed and boiled in his veins. He wanted to feel all of her, needed it.

  Cage slid his hand under the hem of the tattered blouse that still clung to her frame, seeking out bare flesh. The top of her thigh, just under the crease where it joined to her bottom, was warm and moist. A welcome change for one who was so cold.

  His fingertips brushed the most intimate parts of her as he pressed her center against him, and she gasped. He picked her up, pulling her legs over his hips, and carried her across the room.

  They collapsed into the dusty old bed. It creaked loudly, and both of them chuckled as their hands began working at the other’s clothes.

  There wasn’t much left of her blouse, and he made short work of it, tearing it from her body and tossing it over his shoulder. He stared down at the exposed flesh, drinking in the soft curves and smooth, untouched porcelain skin. Her flesh prickled with goose bumps, and a flush rose in her cheeks. After a moment, she shifted, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Why are you covering yourself?” he asked as the pads of his fingers slid over her belly and slowly pulled her sensible cotton underwear down over her pelvis.

  “No one’s ever looked at me that way before.” When the palm of his hand reached the hood of her sex, she whimpered, involuntarily sliding back on the bed but having nowhere to go.

  Cage smiled and leaned over, placing a searing kiss in the valley between her breasts, just under her crossed wrists. His tongue flickered over the salty skin, and he could hear the light panting of her quickening breath. “Then perhaps they should,” he whispered.

  “No, they shouldn’t,” she said. “I’m nothing to look at.”

  Surprised and angry, he stared into her eyes. “Don’t ever say that again. Your beauty is blinding. If God ever forgives me for the things I’ve done, and I’m allowed through the gates of Heaven, nothing in those ivory spires of light could ever compare to the brilliance of even your smallest glance.”

  Phoe offered a shy grin, her eyes downcast. “Do you find this works on many women?”

  “Is it working on you?”
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br />   She didn’t reply but nodded, her face nearly purple. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’m not really, well, you know.”

  “Experienced?”

  “How did you guess?”

  “I’m observant.” He smirked, sitting back on his knees and pulling her panties the rest of the way off. “But it’s all right. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

  “I want to see you,” she blurted. As soon as it was out, she slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  “Don’t apologize. Of course you do. Why shouldn’t you?” He raised up and pulled at the button on his jeans until it popped open. Immediately her eyes were drawn to the narrow patch of hair that pointed lower to his groin, still hidden beneath the denim. He was unabashed as he pulled the zipper down slowly, revealing more of himself until finally he was able to slide the waistband down over his hips.

  After an almost comic display of him trying to rid himself of his clothes, he knelt naked and uninhibited between her outstretched thighs. “There. Now we’re even.”

  When she didn’t respond, he kept still, letting her examine his body in an almost clinical fascination. Though he wouldn’t show it, he wished the scars from his life of danger and intrigue weren’t a roadmap over most of his torso, the deepest gash stretching from just under his arm to the shadow of his pelvis framing his abdomen.

  She gazed up, her eyes full of questions and desire.

  “Don’t be afraid, Phoe.”

  * * *

  Phoebe stared at Cage a long time, taking in his exquisite body. His lean musculature was a study in the perfection of God’s artistry. Muscles moved in delicate rhythm as he breathed silently while staring down at her. His eyes, which she had been fascinated by, seemed to have taken on an altogether different glow.

  As she was studying him, he was doing the same to her. The thought made her shy, and she could feel her cheeks burst into flame. But she continued memorizing his lithe form, following the twisting roadmap of scars to the logical terminal at the root of his masculinity.

  She had to make a conscious effort not to stare at his cock, standing proudly before her. Though it was obviously made of flesh, it almost didn’t seem real. It was a largish creature, which seemed to have a mind of its own. She had to ball her fists to keep from reaching out. She wanted to touch it.

  What would such a thing feel like as she held it in her hand? Would it be smooth and warm or cold and unforgiving like a machine? Would Cage wield it as a wand or weapon? Her only experience had been the latter and though she was fascinated and eager to find out, she was terrified.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to him. He pulled her against him. “Can I touch you?”

  “Love, you can do whatever you want to me,” he said, his voice low and rasping. She hesitated, and he took her hand, pressing it to his chest, just over his heart. It beat hard, pounding against the layers of flesh and bone. Slowly he guided her palm over his torso, letting her feel the contours of his body.

  Cage said not to be afraid, but how could she be anything but?

  Forty-eight hours ago, she had never heard of Macijah St. John and now, here she was, ready to be more intimate with him that she’d ever been with anyone. It was so unlike her. Perhaps more than anyone knew.

  Cage’s skin was smooth, though it had the rugged beauty of age and battle. Her fingertips traced the heavy scarring under his arm and down his side to where it terminated at the corner of his pelvis. “What made this?” she asked.

  “A North Korean assassin,” he answered plainly. “She wasn’t good at her job, I’m afraid.”

  Phoe giggled. “What are you, some kind of James Bond?”

  “I was. Not anymore.”

  She looked up, meeting his gaze and seeing no humor. “Are you serious?”

  “Well, did you think they taught me all that combat stuff in primary school?”

  “You’ve killed people? I mean, regular people? We’re going with werewolves and zombies not being regular people.”

  “Yes.”

  “A lot?”

  “Enough.”

  Phoe nodded and looked away, concentrating on the rise and fall of Cage’s chest as he breathed slowly.

  “Does it bother you to know that?”

  Phoe thought about it. She guessed that deep down she had known this from the moment she met him. Thinking back over the efficient way he’d dealt with those werewolves on the train and the zombies, and the Hellhounds—mustn’t forget the Hellhounds—it shouldn’t surprise her that violence would be his second nature.

  He was so controlled. So calm. Completely the opposite of her, but somehow, instead of making her feel skittish and small, he made her feel alive and safe.

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Good. I stopped apologizing for it years ago. And if it makes you feel any better, they weren’t nice people.”

  He rested his forehead against hers as she threaded her fingers through the mass of black curls that fell across his forehead. It was obvious he had slept for a long time, as his eyes had that lazy quality.

  His mouth, that perfect bow, was so perfectly chiseled. It made her desperate to kiss him.

  She nuzzled his cheek with her nose until her mouth found his. This time she didn’t feel awkward or shy, and this time she knew how to move her mouth against his, parting her lips and letting his tongue invade slowly.

  Her free hand fell down to his hip, and she traced the corner of his pelvic bone, marveling at the softness of his flesh at the junction of his torso and thigh. He growled and grasped her hand, pressing it firmly to the base of his cock.

  Phoe’s breath caught in her throat, and her knee-jerk reaction was to pull away. A little voice inside of her reminded her to be brave.

  She let him guide her palm over the light tuft of hair and then lower to his hardened length. She could feel all the power of his masculinity pulsing beneath her hand.

  Her eyes grew wide, and she couldn’t help but feel in awe of him and, weirdly, in awe of herself, her own power. She found it strange but thrilling that she could make him feel so strongly.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

  “Don’t say anything,” he replied, kissing her again.

  Cage drew his hand up her body until it came to rest on the swell of her breast. Cupping it in his palm, he seemed to weigh its heaviness then massaged gently.

  She gasped, the sensation both strange and erotic. As if he would take possession of each part of her body in turn. She lay back beneath him, tucking her arm behind her head and gazing upward.

  Leaning in, he kissed her neck, just under the hollow below her ear. His warm breath caressed her skin while his hand still played at her breast, now concentrating his attentions on the center. He didn’t pull and pinch at the beaded nipple, but brushed his fingertips over it as he nibbled at her earlobe.

  Phoe groaned softly, arching her back in an attempt to force her breast against his palm. At that he pulled away, kissing down the slope formed by her jugular vein and down her sternum until he arrived at the swell of her breast. At first his lips only lightly fluttered across the sensitive place, drawing her gasps and little sighs as she writhed beneath him.

  Finally, Cage tasted her. He pulled her nipple between his teeth and worried it gently until it hardened and she was whimpering for more. He moved to give the other breast the same attention.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair once more, pulling him closer, forcing more of her breast into his mouth.

  “Careful, Miss Addison,” he purred, pulling back. “You’ll make me positively bloodthirsty.” He winked and offered a mischievous smile. Phoe made a tiny noise, noticing that his canines had grown slightly, their points more pronounced.

  “You won’t turn me into a vampire or anything, will you?” Her cheeks immediately went up in flames as she realized how stupid that sounded.

  “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Cage chuckled, flashing his fangs once more. “If movies are to be believed, that only works if you feel compelled to drink my blood. Though I must confess, the thought of eating you alive did occur.”

  She felt a white-hot pulse between her legs. His words were dangerous and playful, and they were almost as effective as a well-placed caress. “Don’t scare me,” she teased.

  Cage rose up, kneeling between her outstretched legs, staring down at her as if he were a dangerous predator and she his prey. Grasping her thighs, he pulled her down on the bed until she rested against him, her hips perched against his knees.

  “I think you like being a little bit scared, Miss Addison.” He didn’t wait for her response as his fingertips dipped down, sliding across the lips of her sex, which were already dripping. “I think you like it very much.”

  Phoe breathed heavily, watching as he pushed one thigh aside, teasing her sex open with expert manipulations of his fingers. Her eyes fluttered closed, all of her senses focusing on that throbbing heat that grew between her thighs.

  She could feel her center, that tiny button she teased in the dark when she was all alone, pulse with foreign energy, and she found herself opening up wider, wanting him to go farther, to touch that place deep inside that would send her screaming over the edge of abandon.

  But he wasn’t going to be satisfied to let it end so quickly. His fingertips pressed inside of her, pushing past the tiny opening until more of her juices flowed over his hand and down her thighs.

  Phoe opened her eyes and watched as he pulled back, drawing his fingertips to that perfect mouth, tasting her. For a moment her body tensed, and she was sure that she was going to come right then.

  The memory of his tongue lapping at the drops of her essence that clung to the tips of his fingers would live in her darkest fantasies forevermore. And he knew it. He was enjoying the tease, taking pleasure from making her pant with desire.