by N. D. Jones
Sanura couldn’t help but wonder how long he would allow her to torture him.
Finally undoing the button, she slipped hands in the waistband and pulled dark-blue pants down. She slid down his body with the pants, helping him remove them from his ankles to rest beside the discarded shirt. Then off came the dress socks, long, large feet revealed. And, damn, even the man’s feet were sexy. Or maybe I’m just so turned-on I would find anything about Assefa sexy right now.
Unable to resist, she ran her hands up his muscled legs as she stood, resting them on lean hips. “I was hoping you’d left those trunks of yours on.” Fingers played with the waistband of his burgundy-and-black boxers.
“If you recall, my witchy temptress,” he said, the first sign of the return of the playful, flirtatious Assefa, “you could’ve hung a flag on my dick, it was so hard. No way was I squeezing myself into some spandex torture device. Besides”—he winked— “from the way you tore those trunks off of me, I think they already did their job.”
Was that a blush creeping into her cheeks? By the gods, it was. Because, hell yes, she’d wanted Assefa out of those trunks, flesh to flesh, sex to sex. And they were almost there, condom-covered penis at her entrance, ready to take the plunge, bring them both ecstasy.
Lightly, she swept her lips over his, resuming her torture game, wanting her special agent to lose control, the way he’d made her do earlier. But like the predator he was, Assefa seized the bait, taking the kiss from a playful taunt to an intense embrace. He kissed her deep and long, prolonging the intimacy, pressing his solid body into her soft form. Enraptured, she wrapped her arms around his neck, the building sensation too much and not nearly enough.
Unexpectedly, Assefa ended the kiss. “Your turn.”
Lost in an electrical fog of stimulation, Sanura had to focus to process what Assefa had just said to her. “What?”
“It’s my turn to undress you.” Assefa reached for her blouse.
“Oh, yeah, right.”
She still had clothes on? How could one kiss make her feel like she stood naked in his arms?
With patience and control, Assefa slipped off her blouse and bra. His appreciative eyes landed on breasts and abs by Healthy Body, Strong Mind Fitness Center, Sanura suddenly glad she hadn’t hexed the crazy “Drill Sergeant” Dena during the instructor’s military-inspired kickboxing class.
He fingered the underside of her breasts, gentle back-and-forth glides. Then those large hands of his held her bare breasts, taking their weight before squeezing ever so delicately. She tipped her head back on a moan. His mouth swooped in and took advantage, sucking and nipping, making her lightheaded and unbearably wet.
Masculine hands drifted to her waist before going lower to massage her bottom. The pressure of his wicked fingers worked in concert with his greedy mouth, a double assault that had to be a felony in some state of the Union.
Assefa’s tantalizing hands found her skirt. With the same care he’d used to remove her blouse and bra, he unzipped the garment, sliding it over hips and backside, and down and off her legs. She now stood before his kneeling form in only white laced panties.
Languidly, hands ran from ankles to calves, to thighs and hips, and back down again, claiming her with his rugged hands as much as those golden Mngwa eyes gazing up at her. Mouth and tongue followed hands. Sanura couldn’t watch anymore, fearing she would collapse from the sight. Then again, she reminded herself dully, he hadn’t done much of anything yet. And I’m so embarrassingly wet. So close to coming.
Carefully removing the moonstone from her belly button, he replaced the jewel with his tongue. And, for once, Sanura didn’t feel self-conscious about her unique hair and eye coloring. No, if anything, Assefa made her feel beautiful, alive, special.
Kissing her stomach, his smile felt warm and wet. “You’re so sexy. Amazing and hot and so goddamn tasty I want to eat—”
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” she rasped, fighting to draw enough air into her lungs.
“The same thing you’re doing to me.” He stood. “If I don’t make love to you right now, I won’t be responsible for my Mngwa’s actions.” This time his voice held the not-so-faint growl of his cat.
Assefa pulled her to the bed, but it was she who pushed him down, straddling him as she’d done earlier. He was hers now, so Sanura eagerly kissed and licked every scrumptious inch of Assefa’s neck, shoulders, and chest, pleased when she heard him purr in pleasure. She slid down his mighty body to free his arousal from the boxers, tossing them to the floor.
Impressed and feeling like she should give a shout-out to Sekhmet for creating such a fine specimen, Sanura stared at Assefa’s magnificent, bronzed body, the touch, sound, and taste of him hypnotically unnerving. Animal or male magnetism didn’t begin to capture the explosions he set off deep inside her. Unable to speak those binding and fathomless words of commitment, she poured all her emotions into exploring his body, enjoying locating all the spots that most made him purr.
Just when Sanura was about to take him in her mouth and suck him until he squirmed under her mind-blowing ministrations, losing all control, Assefa rolled her over, and then effortlessly divested her of her panties. Damn him.
“You’ve tortured me enough, temptress. I see you like to play with fire.”
She wiggled teasingly under him, his penis heavy, hard, and not where she wanted it. “I’m a fire witch, that’s what I do.”
“Is it? Well, I got something for you, my little witch.”
Sanura just bet he did, and she couldn’t wait. But Assefa jumped from the bed. Less than twenty seconds later, he was back with a triumphant smile and a closed fist. He opened his hand and gold, sparkling paper unfurled.
“Boy Scout,” she said with a smile, and then paused, looking closer. “Magnum.” Her grin widened. “Braggart.”
“Fire and Ice condoms, temptress.” He showed her the profile of a warrior of ancient Troy and winked at her, slow and outrageously cute. “We wasted one earlier.” He tore one open and put the condom on, rolling it until it covered his magnificent girth. “If you aren’t tired, let’s see how much fire and ice we can stand.”
The glow of his eyes was her only warning before he took Sanura in a hard thrust, ripping a scream of pleasurable shock from her.
“You’re so soft and wet,” Assefa moaned, every part of their bodies joined in an electrical dance that shot through her like lightning through a tree—powerful and unforgiving. Pulsing, throbbing, white heat invaded the room, captured and then released as the rhythm pounded loudly and methodically to a beat of their own making. Passion-filled groans charged the atmosphere. Sacred names broke the sound barrier in a soul-rendering symphony made up of an orchestra of two intertwined bodies of sweat and desire.
“Oh gods…Yes. Yes!” Sanura yelled, not caring how loud she was. Right now, she felt more than capable of out-screaming even the banshee queen. And for the love of Isis, was Assefa growing inside her? Longer? Thicker? Gods save her. He was. He had. And she was full to overflowing, receiving more than she’d ever dreamed possible.
Eyes a dark shade of gold now, Assefa’s fangs slipped a little from his gums, the tips of them below his top lip. At this moment, Sanura knew his cat instinct was to claim her, to bite into her flesh and take her as his mate. His mate.
Sanura tensed.
Assefa stopped.
Her fire spirit raged, hissing at the woman to complete the joining, to not fear the unknown, the uncontrollable.
He stared down at her, his body trembling. From mating need or halted pleasure, she couldn’t determine. With clear effort, if not reluctance, fangs lifted then disappeared.
The mood threatened to follow.
She watched him, wondering what he would now do. If he would decide he made a mistake taking her to bed.
Then, like replacing a dead battery, Assefa sparked to life, nipping a shoulder. “No worries.” He began to move, setting the pace, a slow speed that was no less intense, no le
ss toe-curling for its lack of raw force.
There were no more words, no more attempts at claiming, no more fear, just the heat, just the passion, just the burning pleasure of two bodies in search of unforgettable rapture.
Assefa awoke a couple of hours later to find himself alone in bed. Through the flicker of a candle flame, he saw Sanura kneeling by the foot of the bed in what appeared to be a meditative state. Not wanting to disturb her, he remained silent.
“Did I wake you?” a gentle voice queried three minutes later.
“Not in the way you mean. I reached for you and found a cold, empty spot.” He turned the covers down in invitation. “If you’re finished, come back to bed.”
Sanura blew out the candle and returned it to her dresser. She removed the short, black robe she wore and slid into bed next to him.
“Were you praying or meditating?”
“Praying.”
Who wouldn’t pray at a time like this? Sanura had to be nervous about facing the adze. There was no shame in that. None at all. He pulled her closer to him. With her head on his shoulder, thick, wavy gold hair tied back in a haphazard ponytail, Assefa ran his hand up and down her back, not in an attempt to arouse but to soothe the tension he felt in her muscles.
He knew he’d frightened her earlier. Assefa hadn’t meant for that to happen, hadn’t meant for his fangs to come out. Didn’t realize that making love to Sanura would arouse his cat so much, the feline eager to claim his mate. The desire to sink his teeth into Sanura had been so strong, even when she stared up at him with indecisive and scared eyes. With all the strength he possessed, Assefa had forced back the mating magic and his fangs.
But she hadn’t kicked him out. No, Sanura had reveled in their lovemaking as much as himself. So maybe she just wasn’t ready for the permanence of the mating mark. It would, after all, make them eternal mates, only death or an anti-bonding spell capable of separating one soul from the other. In that light, Assefa could understand her skittishness. But that didn’t necessarily mean Sanura didn’t wish to be with him, to move their relationship forward, beyond the case, beyond Baltimore.
Not giving himself a chance to think of all the reasons he shouldn’t ask, Assefa blurted out, “Move in with me.”
The hand that had been languidly drawing circles on his chest abruptly stopped. While the quiet room hadn’t bothered him a moment ago, it was now filled with a mood-killing silence. If it were possible to hear oxygen being sucked from the dark space, Assefa would’ve detected it at this very moment, the sound competing against the rapid beating of his vulnerable heart.
Sanura leaned up on one elbow, clutching the wrinkled flat sheet to her breasts, and stared at him, her green eyes bright with doubt and uncertainty, brows furrowed, lips tight and anxious. His close-set brown eyes never wavered, allowing her to scour the depths of his soul for whatever truth she sought. His request was sincere, and he took comfort in that truth.
Yet the longer she quietly scrutinized him, the more his logical, insecure side had to rebuild its walls. “Just a trial run to see how it works out,” he said, squelching the urge to withdraw the offer and patch his fragile ego. “You can still live here with Makena during the weekends, if you like. I’m only asking that instead of staying with your witch friends during the week, you stay with me in Virginia. I have a home, and it’s more than large enough for the two of us. It’s not as close to the university as where you’re currently staying, but the commute should be reasonable.” He was babbling, but the longer she stared at him the more he nervously spoke in circles.
Finally, she found her tongue, but her words didn’t put him out of his misery. “That’s a lot to digest. I need some time to think about all you’ve said and whether we’re moving too fast.”
It was he who now opted for silence over a verbal response. Assefa kicked himself for pushing, for revealing his hopeful plans too soon. Yet he wasn’t one to play games. Once he knew what he wanted, he went after it. Perhaps this wasn’t the best strategy to use with Sanura, but he didn’t know any other way to be while also being true to himself. Wishing he could turn back the clock five minutes, he shook his head. Falling back on his FBI training, Assefa spoke in a tone devoid of the hurt he felt. “Take all the time you need, no pressure. We better get a few more hours of sleep if we want to be at our best when we go after the adze.” He gave Sanura a forced smile, a chaste kiss to the forehead, and then turned onto his side, away from her.
He closed his eyes, wondering what in the hell she was so afraid of. Hell, she’d just given him her body—twice—and now she was the one retreating. Even without the moonstone, she’s still hiding. But where did she think they were going with all this? What had been the point of the handfasting ceremony? Why did she permit her fire spirit to bind my cat spirit to her, if not to take our relationship to the next logical level? What had been the point of tonight? To find out if the rumors about were-cats’ prowess were true?
Assefa felt the bed shift, right before she snuggled against his back, pressing her naked body into him. Sanura slipped her hand between his arm and hip and found what she was looking for. Pressed tightly against his firm back, she slowly kissed his neck while stroking him in the same fashion, gradually increasing the intensity.
He desperately sought to clear his mind of all thoughts of her and the desire she was trying to build in him. Assefa took himself through mental exercises to get his body under control. He told himself the flesh was a fickle creature, like a woman, but a man’s well-trained mind was stronger. He told himself this lie and willed it to be true.
In spite of Assefa’s valiant fight to ignore the sensations swirling throughout his body, he knew he wouldn’t hold out much longer. He grew hard and long in her manipulative hand, twitching each time she circled the delicate, moist tip. And when she cupped and massaged his balls, his resolve snapped.
“Damn you, Sanura, you’re a fiendish witch,” he half growled, half moaned. Sanura sped up her stroking, perfecting her rhythm, learning his body. To his shame, he gave in to her obvious female manipulation, relaxing and submitting to her will.
The beast rushed to the surface, and Assefa flipped Sanura onto her back. She yelped in surprise. He grasped her arms and raised them above her head, holding her wrists with his forceful hands. Assefa plunged deep inside, Sanura wet and ready. With a carnality he’d kept in check earlier, he used his muscled thighs to push her legs wider apart, demanding unlimited access.
If this was all she wanted from him, Assefa thought bitterly, he would give it to her—hard, deep, and unfeeling. He would be the Mngwa of myth, pillaging and taking what he wanted without the good sense or heart of a civilized man.
And he did.
Eyes shut, Assefa thrust into Sanura, the beast in him riding her like a cresting wave, his ragged gasps feral, relentless. Sweat pooled and fell. He didn’t stop.
Sanura made a sound that could’ve been a moan of pleasure or a groan of dissatisfaction. Reluctantly, Assefa opened his eyes and paused above Sanura. She was staring at him, green eyes trusting and unafraid, even with him holding her down, his heavy bulk trapping her much smaller, infinitely softer frame. Shit. This wasn’t who he was, wasn’t his spirit. And it damn sure wasn’t the man who’d just offered Sanura his home, his protection. He was acting no better than a rutting brute.
Assefa resumed his movements, rocking his hips in a repentant cadence, easing his cat spirit into a contented retreat. He lifted Sanura’s chin with his right hand and lightly kissed her. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to rush you. I won’t ever hurt you. But I do need some assurance.”
“Like what?” Sanura clenched around his length, forcing Assefa to increase his tempo, pushing into the spirited witch the way her body was demanding.
Strangely, Sanura didn’t seem the least bit put off by the more aggressive sex. In fact, Assefa had the suspicion that a part of Sanura actually preferred this side of him. But that was probably more the influence of her fire spirit than the wo
man. One, but also two. Assefa wanted both sides of her to want him. In and out of bed.
“I don’t know…b–but…,” he stammered, unable to think coherently, Sanura raiding his aura with her sensual magical energy. It flooded him, drowning his senses in the process, urging his sweaty body toward an explosive completion. At the last minute, he withdrew, spilling himself on a milk chocolate thigh.
That had been close, neither one of them in the right frame of mind to think about stopping and sheathing. Assefa knew this, grateful the man was in control and not his beast. The Mngwa wanted to claim Sanura, make her his in every way. But the man would have none of it, needing her to come to him willingly, not because of a poor choice she’d made in the heat of passion while running from a demon. And it was a demon, but not the kind Assefa and his division tracked. No, such a demon would’ve been easy enough to dispatch. The demon that haunted Sanura was of a personal nature, one she’d have to confront and vanquish if she wanted more out of this than a one-night stand.
“Allowing me to impregnate you wasn’t the type of assurance I was looking for.” He reached for the box of tissues on the nightstand. After cleaning her, he settled them under the covers.
“That wasn’t my intention,” Sanura said in hushed tones. “I’m sure neither one of us is ready for that.”
No, not yet. But Assefa could already envision the children they could have, the life they could have together. If only…
“I don’t like it when you feign ignorance about our feelings for each other, Sanura, when you shield your heart from me as if I intend to rip it to shreds.”
“And I don’t like it,” she said, finding a warm spot against his side, right leg sprawled over his, “when you don your FBI mask, turning all cold and unemotional on me. I don’t know what to do when you get like that.”
Fair enough. But Sanura was so damn uneasy when it came to the more emotional side of relationships, which didn’t exactly encourage a man like Assefa to fully open up to her either.