Heart of a Smuggler

by Heart of a Smuggler (lit)

  Cripes. Any second she expected to start hyperventilating. She sure as heck couldn’t get her thoughts straight. Every plan was breaking apart and scattering into oblivion as she focused on his face.

  Slowly, so slowly, Shamon leaned his big frame down, drawing closer and closer, his gaze on her lips, and then he stopped. Hesitated almost, his gaze lifting until he looked her fully in the eyes. And he kept looking at her as he took her mouth with exquisite gentleness.

  Her heart might have been pounding, but Gabie was holding her breath. All she could see were the strong lines of his face and the heat in his eyes. And when his lips touched hers with the gentlest of pressure, she could only breathe out a sigh of welcome, close her eyes and sway towards him.

  With her eyes closed she could sense and feel so much more. She felt the slight shift of his hands as his elbows bent to allow her closer. The touch of his mouth was a caress, hidden strength and control that sipped instead of taking. The heat of his big body, the hard swell of his abdominal muscles as she reached out and lightly laid the tips of her fingers against them.

  Like satin over hard steel, that was the only way she could describe his body. Hard muscle, smooth skin, warmth, and a clean, masculine scent that she recognized as being solely his scent. It called to her, seeping into her senses with every breath she took, curling through her and filling her with a deep contentment... but leaving her wanting.

  Wanting more. So much more.

  Shamon’s kiss was gentle as he explored her lips with his. Little pressures as he moulded to her, tasted her with a tiny lick, nuzzled her.

  “God,” she muttered raggedly against his lips. “That’s not enough!”

  And she kissed him back suddenly, needing to taste him, to feel him hard against her, demanding more.

  She swayed towards him and in a heartbeat his hands left her cheeks, his arms dropping down to wrap around her, one hand at the small of her back pulling her arching against him, his other hand between her shoulder blades to support her as he bent her backwards.

  And totally ravished her mouth.

  Oh, cripes, yes, this was more like it! Now Gabie could really taste him. His essence filled her as thoroughly as he took hers into himself. His tongue swept in, giving no quarter, sweeping through and laying claim to everything.

  The little spark inside her ignited, flaring bright, and she sought to press closer, her arms twining up and around his neck, her fingers sinking deep into the thick hair that spilled over his broad shoulders.

  Still holding her mouth captive, Shamon straightened suddenly, his strong arms holding her fast against himself.

  That totally awed her. Back in the far reaches of her mind, where her common sense had been firmly shoved, a little part of her gaped. No one had ever picked her up and carried her without a bit of a grunt of effort, but the giant trader picked her up like she was a feather.

  He swung on his heel and she felt the strength of his long legs against her as he strode with assuredness through the doorway, down a little hall and into a bedroom. Stopping beside the bed, he finally released her mouth and drew his head back to gaze directly into her eyes.

  Silence filled the room for several seconds while she lost herself in the smouldering brown of his eyes, made even deeper and mysterious by the glow of the small lamp on the bedside table.

  “Gabie, are you sure?”

  “Huh?” Confused, she blinked.

  “I need to know you’re sure about spending the night with me.”

  Shamon wanted her. Hell, he’d not made any secret of that fact since the second they’d made the deal over a game of dice. The desire for her burned in his eyes. And yet he hesitated.

  Gave her a chance to back out before it was too late. God above, he was so honourable, and so sweet.

  As if she could back out now, anyway. Every thought was centred on the man holding her and the thought of leaving the passion in his arms was just unthinkable. Her desire was starting to run rampant through her veins.

  Another new experience.

  “You want to know how much I want this?” she demanded. Good grief, was that her voice? All low and husky and with a hint of sexual heat?

  Yep, must be, because Shamon’s eyes just got a shade hotter if that was even possible, and he sucked in a deep breath.

  “Aye,” he almost hissed out. “I do.”

  Well, Gabie was always a believer in actions being better than words. Sometimes. This was one of those times.

  Slipping a hand behind his nape, she angled her head and licked the pulse that beat so hard in the column of his throat. Nipped that pulse, licked it again, and then sucked it lightly.

  She was rewarded by his arms tightening around her, and the deep breath he sucked in again.

  Hey, if she kept making him breathe like that, he’d be the one hyperventilating.

  Trailing her lips up the strong column of this throat, she nuzzled beneath his ear, heard his breath hitch, and grinned.

  Just to make sure he got the message, she flicked the tip of her tongue across the small, silver hoop in his lobe and breathed hotly in his ear, “What do you think, honey?”

  “I’m thinking I’m ready to claim my prize now.” Without further hesitation, Shamon simply tossed her back onto the big bed, following her down fast. He ensured he kept his weight on his forearms so as not to squash her—dear God, but what a way to go—and looked down into her eyes. “You. In my bed. One night.”

  Gabie thought those words were forever going to be burned into her brain. There could be worse. She couldn’t help but grin at that thought.

  Shamon quirked one brow, managing to look so thoroughly, dangerously male, and yet rakish at the same time. “Something funny, wench?”

  “Just a random thought.”

  “’Tis so? Let’s see if it matches mine.” Propping himself up on one elbow, he reached down and started to undo the buttons on her shirt.

  Slowly. One by one. Trailing the tip of his finger on each new exposed inch of skin as he worked his way downwards.

  Driving her insane. Each touch starting off yet another spark. Any second she was going to go up in smoke.

  “Cripes.” She writhed against him as the treacherous fire slid low and deep inside her. “Can you go any slower, trader?”

  “You have no idea how I’m trying to pace myself.” Leaning down, Shamon pressed a kiss to the naked skin between the open edges of her shirt. “God, lass, you smell good.” He flicked his tongue against her and his voice deepened. “And you taste even better.”

  Her nipples tightened, puckering and pressing against the lacy confines of her bra. Arching up, she pressed them against his chest, managing to only ignite the flames more when the torture of his hard flesh against her material covered nipples added friction.

  “Steady, sweet.” Shamon glanced up and smiled hedonistically. And froze.

  Whatever he saw on her face, it obviously caught him by surprise, but he didn’t look upset. Instead, his gaze became even more carnal.

  Gabie had not a clue how she looked, all she knew was that she wanted him. On her. Against her. In her.

  Sliding up her body enough so that they were face to face, Shamon looked down at her. “You’re running hot, little smuggler.”

  “True?” Snaking her hand around to his back, she slid her fingers down his spine, watching as he arched back slightly, a hiss of pleasure escaping from between his teeth. “You don’t look so cool yourself, trader.”

  Even more surprising was how her voice sounded. Sexy, breathless, a siren’s echo. Who knew she had it in her to turn this trader on so much? And oh yeah, Gabie might not be too experienced when it came to matters of the flesh, but that hard length pressing against her thigh was a blatant sign of arousal.

  Not to mention the hedonistic flush in Shamon’s strong cheeks.

  “If you keep looking at me like that wench, our first time isn’t going to be slow.”

  “Who wants slow?” Hell, if he went any slower,
she’d be a gibbering wreck before long.

  His pupils dilated, his breath hitching in his big chest. The swell of his pectorals pressed down on her breasts, hardness against softness, eliciting a small moan from Gabie.

  “You be sure, lass,” Shamon said softly, but with an edge of steel stroking the low tones.

  “I’m not scared of you, Shamon.”

  “Mayhaps I’m scared of myself.”

  Before she could even try to sort out what that little remark meant, Shamon released his passion and Gabie was caught up. There was no room for any second thoughts. Heck, she was lucky to just remember to keep breathing.

  Her head spun when Shamon swept her up to stand before him on the bed. His mouth was hot and damp against her skin as his fingers made short work of the remaining buttons on her shirt. Cool air caressed her skin as the shirt was tugged back over her shoulders and down her arms before being tossed aside. The clasp of her bra was unsnapped and the lacy support garment joined her shirt over a chair.

  Gabie would have been a little disconcerted normally to be naked from the waist up and in the presence of so much testosterone, but when Shamon zeroed in on one nipple and sucked it deep into the recesses of his mouth, any self-consciousness fled. Her knees nearly collapsed and she let out a soft cry, half passion and half surprise.

  Shamon’s breath was warm as he laughed hedonistically against her flesh. One muscular arm came up and his hand flattened against her bottom to support her. The other hand came behind her knee.

  “Lift your foot,” he ordered.

  Mindlessly she obeyed. A dim part of her had to admire him. The man was multi-tasking, sucking her nipple, managing to give orders, supporting her and undressing her all at once.

  Her boots were discarded, followed by her bright pink socks. Her toes curled into the thick comforter when Shamon slid his tongue along to her other breast, laving the puckered nipple lovingly before drawing it in deep.

  Invisible strings plucked desire straight to her woman’s core and pooled. The dampness at the junction of her thighs had her shifting and moaning.

  Strong thumbs hooked into the waistband of her pants and in one smooth motion Shamon drew them down her legs, along with the lace panties she favoured. She expected him to order her to lift her feet again but instead he gave her a gentle shove. Gabie fell back onto the big bed.

  Blinking, she focused on Shamon as he laughed softly, deeply, yanking off her pants completely and tossing them aside. The man was a god, no doubt about it. A sex god, she was sure. From some ancient myth.

  He shrugged out of his vest with admirable speed, toed his boots off, shoved down his pants and stepped out of them.

  Gabie stared. She’d spotted a few naked men in her life and they hadn’t left a whole lot of impression. But God above, she wasn’t going to ever forget this ideal of manhood.

  Dressed, Shamon was impressive. Naked, he was awe-inspiring. Muscles bunched and flexed as he moved. Broad shoulders, massive chest, long, muscular legs and lean hips. And sweet mercy, from the nest of fair curls at his groin his manhood curved up, thick and long, straining up past his belly button.

  Slowly she raised her gaze, up past the muscles of his body, up further to the strong column of his neck, the square jaw, and the firm yet full lips that were wholly male below the straight lines of his nose. Finally she met his eyes. Hot, filled with desire, burning with passion. His hair spilled over his shoulders in a silken, shaggy fall.

  He was the personification of a totally carnal male. Testosterone and concupiscence combined in a breathtaking man.

  He coveted her. It was there in his eyes, in the way he stood, a man preparing to claim his prize. Claim her. Claim her for himself.

  God, would he even fit in her? Gabie licked her lips. No doubt about it, she was feeling a tad nervous, but it didn’t turn her off. In fact, it cranked her libido up several more notches. She didn’t think she had any notches left to rack up but obviously she could still surprise herself.

  Heck, she’d surprised herself so far, why stop now?

  That magnificent male started towards the bed, his gaze steady on her, his steps sure. Muscles bunched, his manhood stayed rock solid.

  Heart beating a tattoo in her chest, Gabie came up onto her elbows and started edging up the bed. Shamon suddenly looked like he was stalking her, and wasn’t it just sick that it made her all squirmy and hot inside? Hell yeah, but she wasn’t complaining.

  Shamon’s fingers curled around her ankle, stopping her movement. “Going somewhere?” he purred, just like a great lycat.

  “No,” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. “Not at all. Just making room for you.”

  “Really?” His teeth flashed white in the dim light.

  And God above, he started pulling her down the bed towards him.

  Fascinated, she kept her gaze locked with his. The gleam in his eyes was total prurience. The gleam grew the closer he drew her to him. He didn’t stop until her hips were near the edge of the bed, and then he simply slid his hands up her legs and hooked them behind her knees, the breadth of his broad shoulders forcing her thighs wider as he dropped to his own knees before the bed.

  Before her.

  Shooting stars of Cyran, he had her spread open for his lustful gaze as he lowered his lashes and studied the secrets that had been hidden by the soft folds of her labia. Now he had a good view.

  Oh no. This was not what Gabie thought was going to happen. Alarm zinged through her and she started to struggle upwards.

  “Oh, no! Shamon, what are you doing? No, no! This isn’t—” She stopped with a gasp, and then fell bonelessly back onto the mattress.

  His mouth was on her, his tongue lapping across her folds, pressing against her perineum. His hands behind her knees opened her wider, drew her closer, and he feasted on her.

  Really feasted.

  Liquid heat surged through her as his lips fastened on the little clitoris peeping out so shyly. He sucked it into a hard, aching nub. His thumbs parted the folds of her womanhood, leaving nothing hidden to his gaze or mouth.

  “Oh God, Shamon! You shouldn’t...” Her thoughts scattered as he tongued her, that skilful organ probing at her secrets, swiping over her glistening flesh, leaving no crevice unexplored. “Ohhhhh...”

  He swirled the tip around the entrance to her body, gripping her thighs and holding them apart when she involuntarily tried to close them against his invasion. “All mine, Gabie.” His breath was a warm brush against her highly sensitized nerves, pushing her higher up a steep slope. “One night. To do with...” He blew sharply suddenly, sending a chill across her clitoris... “As I like.”

  Writhing on the bed, Gabie couldn’t gather her thoughts, couldn’t do anything. His breath on her flesh made her shiver in delicious heat, the chill of his deliberate sharp breath on her clitoris shaking her to another height.

  Placing one big hand on her stomach, he held her easily to the bed as she tried to edge away from his sweet, torturous mouth.

  Sparks skittered through her veins, her nerves were a tight ball of screaming sensations. She arched under his mouth, and when the heel of his hand slid lower and started to rhythmically grind against the base of her woman’s mound, she shattered.

  Dimly she heard herself scream out as her world exploded. The climax rocked through with force, and it didn’t recede before another one rocked her, the pressure rubbing against the seam of her body pushing her even higher.

  She had no idea how long she’d been out in that glorious Eros, but she didn’t come down to anything sweet and light.

  Seven

  Shamon couldn’t believe how hot she was. Gabie’s luscious little body undulated beneath his hands. Her honeyed taste filled him and he lifted his head to watch her in the throes of passion.

  It was erotic. He couldn’t remember seeing anything so hot in his life. But then what he did to her he’d never done with tavern wenches. With Gabie he needed to not just be in her, but taste her. Know her. Have h
er in every way he’d fantasized.

  His staff throbbed, straining angrily against his belly, demanding release, but he forced his own desire down a little, though it was a struggle. He wanted to watch her just a little longer.

  When Gabie started to get over the climax, he rubbed his finger against the seam of her body, pressing against her perineum, nudging the entrance to her body, and she shattered again almost immediately.

  God, her body was so luscious and sweet. All curves and softness.

  Standing up, Shamon placed his knees each side of her and slowly crawled up her body, bracing himself on hands and knees so he could watch her face as she shuddered her way down from the pinnacle of pleasure.

  Those soft cheeks were flushed pink, her lips swollen from his kisses, and her eyes when they fluttered open were deep green, the brightness sparked with heat.

  “Hello, sweet lass,” he murmured.

  “Shamon...” His name came out on a sigh.

  Sliding his arm under her back, he took her effortlessly with him as he crawled up the length of the bed, depositing her gently against the pillows.

  “Mmmm.” She started to close her eyes.

  He laughed softly. “Nay, nay, little wench. I’m not finished yet.”

  Propped up on one elbow, he leaned over and kissed her, licking deep. At the same time he cupped one of her bountiful breasts and weighed it in his hand. It almost overflowed his big palm and with a murmur of pleasure he pressed his palm down on it, rubbing the nipple against the centre of his palm.

  Almost immediately Gabie arched into his hand, her eyes flickering open. Heat flared in her eyes, and he smiled. Aye, the little smuggler was running hot all right. Time to heat her up a little more.

  His hand slid down the cute curve of her belly and through the patch of brown curls. He swallowed her gasp as his fingers slid between the wet folds, pushing unerringly to the centre of her body. He slid his finger deep, feeling her internal muscles clench down, the tightness of the channel as she pressed her thighs together.