He trailed off as she turned towards him, a murmur of thanks on his lips as she handed him a steaming mug of hot chocolate and shooed him through into the equally tiny living room. Her place wasn’t much. A small apartment on the fourth floor, it was crammed into the corner of the building. The entire thing would have fit in her bedroom at home. But the large curved corner window and antique fireplace gave it a charm her designer-decorated - and above all impersonal - bedroom back at her parents’ mansion just couldn’t match.
This place was hers, through and through. From the warm cream paint on the walls right through to the brightly striped rug in front of the fire that she’d picked up from one of the seasonal craft markets, she’d picked everything herself, rather than leaving it to the professional team her mother insisted on using.
“Yeah, and ruin everything I’ve fought for over the past three years? Not a chance. Please, have a seat.” She gestured to one side of the big, squashy sofa in front of the roaring fire. She lifted an eyebrow at the flames, trying to focus on them rather than the sensual grace of Rhod’s large body as he lowered himself into the seat next to her. No man had a right to be that sexy. It had to be breaking some kind of universal law or something.
Forcing herself to stop watching, in case he caught her with her tongue out or something equally embarrassing, she turned her attention to the fire. In full flame, it blazed merrily despite the fact they’d barely been in the apartment above five minutes.
“How on earth did you manage that?” she asked, watching him over the rim of her mug. “It always takes me an hour to get the fire anywhere close to that.”
He didn’t just sit, he lounged with that big cat sort of grace some large men had. Of course, she realized he wasn’t human. No human moved the way he and his partner had done when they’d come to her rescue in the alley. He hadn’t gone furry so he wasn’t a wolf, and vampire just didn’t seem to fit him. She’d seen a couple of vampires during her time with the chapel, and their skin was weird. Flat, almost devoid of color, not flushed with health and almost glowing in the firelight as his was, as though the fire itself reached out to caress him. That was all well and good, but as sexy as he was, if he started to sparkle, she was so kicking his butt out the door.
“It’s all in the wrist action,” he said with a grin and lifted his hand.
As he snapped his fingers, the air shimmered. Golden dust sparkled for a second before zipping through the air to light the candles on the mantelpiece.
Her jaw dropped. “Ohh…dayyyum. Claus. You’re an…”
She looked back at him and blinked. He’d moved, leaving the empty chocolate mug on the side table by to the sofa as he settled into the space next to her.
“Elf. Yes,” he supplied, reaching out to take the mug from her suddenly numb hands. She didn’t resist, all her attention on him. Elves, especially winter elves, were among the rarest of the paranormal creatures. Suddenly his lack of jacket, despite the freezing weather outside, made sense. Claus. His name was Claus, which meant he wasn’t just a winter elf, but a Christmas elf…
“Elf, huh? So you’re one of the guys who makes the presents for the kids…something like that?” Her lip twitched a little at the edge before she could stop it. The temptation was just too much. “Let me guess, embroidery? Doll making?”
His lip quirked as he moved in, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body against hers, even through the plain shirt and jeans she wore to work at the Chapel. Instinctively she wanted to curl up against him, feel all those hard muscles against her softer curves.
“Something like that.”
His words were low, the deep rasp of his voice a whisper against her senses as he swept a thumb gently over the skin at the side of her lips. The tension and awareness that had been simmering between them since he’d picked her up in the alley and they’d ended up nose-to-nose surged back in full force.
“Candy…” His eyes, so green and intense, darkened as he flicked a glance down at her mouth. “I’m going to kiss you. I’ve wanted to since—”
He didn’t finish the sentence, instead cutting it off as he leaned forward to press his lips against hers. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her breath held in the back of her throat as anticipation shivered through her.
The first touch was feather light, his mouth warm and firm against hers as he moved in. A large hand threaded through the loose hair at the nape of her neck. She murmured in pleasure at the feel of strong, gentle fingers as he tilted her head for better access to her lips.
Slanting his head, he moved his mouth over hers. Back and forth in a mesmerizing caress. His cologne, deep woods and sharp citrus over an underlying note that she knew instinctively was pure male, surrounded and held her captive as he pulled her against him.
She didn’t argue. Instead, she slid her arms around his broad shoulders to hold him close and parted her lips a little in invitation. The surprised rumble from the centre of his chest made her smile, but he wasn’t slow in taking her up on her offer.
His tongue sought hers, sliding in a slow dance of sheer heaven. Heat blazed through her, warming her blood, cycling through her veins to settle in her stomach. A nervous, aching, fluttery knot that urged her to press closer, take more.
Shifting on the sofa, she ran the fingers of one hand through his hair and used the other to stroke along his jaw. Just as she’d wanted to do earlier. His stubble prickled her fingers, then against her cheeks, as he slid an arm around her back and half turned to press her against the plush cushions.
She moaned her approval of the idea, loving the feel of him over her. Tilting her head, she allowed him greater access to the tender skin of her throat. His lips whispered over her neck and found the sensitive spot behind her ear that sent shivers right down to her toes. By the time he pulled back, she’d lost all sense of space and time, her breathing ragged as she looked up at him.
“I have to stop.” He groaned, the look in his eyes dark and dangerous, the corded muscles in his arms bunching as he held himself over her. His gaze searched her face, as though memorizing each and every little detail. Normally she’d have felt self conscious at so much attention. But his expression was rapt, not analyzing. He looked at her as though she was the most fascinating thing in the world.
She couldn’t help it. She did the full on girly thing and pouted, sliding a hand down to play gently with his collar. “Why?”
The heat and lust in his eyes flared again, sending an answering tremor of need through her frame. Fuck it. She hooked a finger into the open collar of his shirt, rolling the button between her thumb and forefinger. Popped it open as she watched him. The firelight caught the edges of his hair, turning the dark curls into a fiery halo. Mussed up and sexy as hell, it would look just as sexy on her pillow in the morning.
He bit his lip. Strong, white teeth mangled the plump flesh, the simple move so erotic it stole her breath away. Concern flared in his eyes for a second as he whispered his fingertips over the taped cut at her temple.
“Sweetheart, you were injured. If I-” He paused and took a shuddering breath to regain his composure. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She laughed, the sound low and amused. “Rhod, I’m a big girl and contrary to my oh-so-embarrassing wobbly-knee incident in the alleyway, I won’t break.”
Her voice lowered as she lifted up to reach his lips, whispering against them. “I promise. I just want to…to…” She faltered for a second, fire crawling over her cheeks as she tried to verbalize what she wanted. Taking a deep breath, she looked him directly in the eye and smiled.
“I want you.”
Three little words blew away any composure, any resistance Rhod had left. If indeed he’d ever had any against this charming little sprite of a human. He uttered a low curse in elvish and dropped his weight a fraction. The move pressed her curvy body into the soft cushions as he tried in vain to school his reaction.
Lust raced through his body. White hot and uncontrollable, it surged down h
is spine, tightened his gut and wrapped around his cock and balls in an iron embrace. He was stiffer than a bloody flagpole, his dick so hard and ready against the zipper of his pants he was surprised the damn thing hadn’t broken free already.
Trying to be gentle, he took her lips again. He tried, but it was no use. This time the gloves came off. He pried her lips apart with a hard sweep of his tongue and drove within, seeking the honeyed depths he’d tasted before. Tasted once and become addicted to instantly. He knew, no matter how many times he kissed her, it would never be enough. He could spend an eternity kissing her, and his soul would still yearn for more. For everything she could give.
She opened to him immediately, so naturally all his arguments were swept away. Their kiss, the way her body cradled his between her parted thighs even as his larger form covered hers protectively, felt right. Perfect. Fated.
Her moan mingled with his groan as their tongues entwined and tangled. He felt the shiver of the sensual hot, wet slide from the top of his head to his toes. One arm braced behind her head, he helped her undo his shirt with the other. His hand shook but he ignored it, sitting back to ditch the garment. The fitted fabric caught on his shoulders. He swore and yanked, hearing it tear but not caring as he dropped it on the floor and returned to her.
She met him halfway, sitting up and all but crawling into his lap as their lips met again. He growled, his hands wrapping around her waist to lift her the rest of the way. Straddling him, she settled down and then froze as she registered the thick bar of his cock pressed hard between her legs. He tried hard not to think about the fact that a mere few layers of fabric separated him from sliding into the heaven of her body.
It didn’t work. Another groan broke from his throat as his cock pulsed and jerked against her. A savage ache rolled through his body until it was all he could do not to tumble her to the rug in front of the fire, strip her clothes from her body and make her his in every sense of the word.
He controlled himself, watching her face as she settled down further. Her expression was so sexy, her eyes half closed and her lips half parted. The sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Then she rolled her hips and pleasure rocked his world.
“Fuck!”
Somehow he managed to swear and moan at the same time, sliding his hands up from her waist to brush his thumbs under those surprisingly full breasts. Breasts he ached to uncover, unwrap from the plain cotton shirt she was wearing. Peel the fabric away. Touch…kiss. Lick. Suck.
Crap, he was his own worst enemy.
Closing his eyes to try and control himself, he felt her small hands smooth to the middle of his chest. A shudder of reaction rolled through him. Then she pushed against him. He let her, falling back to lie against the cushions of the couch, and opened his eyes to look up at her.
She sat over him, the fire casting a warm glow over her skin as she reached for the buttons down the front of her shirt. He swallowed; all the blood in his body rushed to his cock like a cavalry charge as more and more of her creamy flesh was exposed. Even if a herd of wild horses had stampeded through the apartment just at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to look away. Not with her slender fingers moving on the buttons, and the gap down the front of the shirt widening by the second.
Then they were all undone and she parted the shirt, shrugging it off her shoulders. He tried to swallow as the twin mounds of her breasts were revealed, the soft skin pale above the deep scarlet of her bra.
Holy crap.
His eyes widened as she stripped the black fabric of her shirt down her arms and dropped it on the floor behind them. He’d expected black satin, maybe an edging of lace. Not ‘take me to bed and fuck me senseless’ scarlet.
“You’re…”
His mental faculties deserted him so much that he couldn’t utter another word, never mind frame a damn sentence. Instead he surged into movement, sitting up with her in his lap, as his hands slid up her ribcage. She was tiny, delicate…and so fucking sexy he shook with the lust that rocked his body.
He took her lips in a kiss that was hot, feral…almost animalistic in its intensity. He drove his tongue deep, stroking, tasting and demanding in one go. Surrounding her with the cage of his arms so she wasn’t hurt, he tumbled them onto the rug in front of the fire.
She gasped at the sudden movement, then moaned and wriggled against him as her back hit the soft surface of the rug. He broke the kiss, but it wasn’t a respite. Instead he planted a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses all the way down her throat. Her bra lasted less than a second, his long fingers making short work of the clasp between her breasts. God bless front opening bras…no need for awkward contortions to undo them.
She whimpered, her back arching as the bra gave and released her breasts from their satin confinement. Rhod swore under his breath as the firelight played over them, caressing the creamy flesh and highlighting the tight, puckered nipples. Crouched over her like some beast of legend, he swooped in and caught one between his lips. He suckled it between his teeth, alternating suckling with quick flicks of his tongue, moving from one breast to the other until she was writhing and moaning beneath him.
God she was so hot. And she was all his.
Chapter 4
“Mine.”
Half lost in a delirium of pleasure, Candy almost missed the growled word. Hands buried in his hair as he licked and sucked at her tits, she paused and tried to get her thought processes in order even as he seemed hell-bent on sending her mad with need.
“Yes, yours,” she agreed.
She liked the hard note of possessiveness in his deep voice, but she liked the swirl of his tongue over her beaded nipple even more. Arching her back again, she offered more of herself to him. A sharp cry escaped her lips as he reached up and tweaked her other nipple, the pleasure-pain sending a fresh rush of heat from her pussy to dampen her panties.
Then he was gone, the warmth of his mouth abandoning her breasts, leaving her nipples wet and aching as he kissed his way down her soft stomach. She sucked in a breath, conscious that she wasn’t in the same great shape that he was, torn between being ticklish and a pussy-clenching need that had her tight in its clutches.
The zipper of her jeans gave, and his hands were inside the denim. They cupped and shaped her ass as he pushed the fabric down. Lifting her hips she helped him take them off. A shiver travelled through her body as the jeans slid down the length of her legs. While he yanked them free of her ankles, she struggled out of the open bra and pitched it onto the sofa. A flush hit her cheeks as she lay back for his perusal, naked apart from her panties.
Sitting on his heels, he swept her body with a hot look, not bothering to conceal the lust and need on his face, nor the thick erection tenting the crotch of his dress pants. He studied every inch of her body until she was ready to squirm and beg him to move. To do something. Anything.
His gaze dropped to her panties and he sucked a breath in. “Fuck. A Thong. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you sweetheart?”
She laughed, the noise breathless and sounding way sexier than she usually did. But it soon turned to a gasp as he wrapped a big hand round each of her ankles, pulling her legs apart to settle his big frame between them.
“I love these.”
He stroked a finger along the lace across her stomach then teased along the edge between her body and thigh. Moving down, ever closer to the part of her that really needed his attention.
She closed her eyes as he played with the lace, her lips parting on a moan as he dipped a finger beneath, and then withdrew. She was killing him? What the hell did he think all this teasing was doing to her?
“What I especially like is the easy access here.”
His fingertips moved up to her hips, to the small ties at the side of the panties. There was a sharp tug, and the fabric fell away, cool air washing over her exposed pussy lips. She whimpered at the slight stimulation, reaching up to cup her breasts as he dropped a kiss on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
“That�
�s it,” he urged as he moved closer, warm breath trickling over her pussy. “Play with them for me. Imagine it’s my hands on you. Teasing, caressing, pinching…”
She listened to his rough, sultry voice, imagining that the hands cupping her breasts were his. Big, warm hands with calluses that spoke of hard work. Rough and smooth, instead of small and soft. A spine-tingling contrast between fantasy and reality as she caressed herself, tweaked her nipples and pulled slightly to feel the bite of pleasure-pain.
“Fuck, that’s hot.”
She bit back a moan as he moved lower. He blew a cool breath over her pussy lips and she flinched, the moan escaping around her clenched teeth. He chuckled, the sound dirty and decadent. Then he licked.
His tongue slid along her in a long wet glide of sensation until he found her clit. A rumble in the back of his throat vibrated against her as he wrapped his lips around the tiny bundle of flesh and sucked.
She whimpered, reaching up to grab at something, anything, to ground herself. Fuck. He knew how to use his tongue. Flicking across her clit in a rapid tattoo, then sucking, he caused starbursts to explode behind her closed eyelids as he drove her toward climax in a hell-borne ride. He didn’t let up, alternating long licks that rasped against her sensitive flesh with hard suckles until her hips bucked. The moans that spilled from her lips were closer to pleas for more. Definitely for more.
Heat filled her, careening into every pleasure cell until she felt his touch through her entire body. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he moved. Pulled away to sit up, leaving her panting and ready to scream on the rug in front of him.
No way.
Disbelief and frustration rolled through her as she just looked at him. He couldn’t do this…couldn’t leave her like this.
But his face was a hard mask, eyes glittering with heat and desire as he swept a glance over her reclining body. Snatching at his belt buckle, he undid his pants with a shaking hand, sitting on the edge of the sofa and shoving them over his hips with speed borne of haste and need.
Alphas for the Holidays Page 21