“We’ll see. You have to open the French doors.”
“Are you too warm? And the answer will always be no.”
“I have to sleep with the windows or door open or I can’t breathe.”
He opened the double doors. The night breeze slid into the room and Saria smiled at him. He couldn’t help just standing there by the door admiring her with the moonlight spilling into the room. Her hair was tousled, her skin gleaming like porcelain and her body soft and curvy and inviting.
She patted the bed next to her. “Come and lie down.”
“You don’t have a camera hidden somewhere, do you?” He put suspicion in his voice.
“I might,” she teased.
“I’ll have to search you.” She was studying him just as thoroughly as he was looking at her. He liked the feel of her gaze on him. He might be exhausted and hurting, but she made him feel more alive and exhilarated than he’d ever felt in his life.
He approached the bed slowly, watching her eyes, watching the heat flare there. Her eyes darkened, but the amber flecks grew brighter, becoming like tiny pieces of gold, now molten and spreading through the dark chocolate. His groin tightened and he knelt over her, caching her ankles in his hands and dragging her body down to him.
She moistened her lips, but her dark gaze never left his. His palm slid up the curve of her leg, tracing her form. Her long lashes swept down and then up, so that she watched him through half-closed eyes. He stroked his hands up her legs and over her hips, hooking her thin boy shorts and slowly lowering them from her body, all the while holding her gaze. The gold spread through the irises of her eyes until the color formed perfect circles. He read fear there, but the desire outweighed the fear.
He stretched out beside her, one hand splayed on her stomach, feeling her muscles bunch beneath his palm. She trembled, her eyes going wide, but she didn’t try to pull away from him. He wanted her with every cell in his body. He brushed a kiss along her temple, down to the corner of her eye and along her cheek. He heard her breath turn a little ragged and he drew lazy circles on her bare skin just under her breasts as he nudged her top up a little.
He found he was trembling as well. He needed her. She had brought life to him when he had long ago given up on it. He worked a job where life expectancy just wasn’t that long. The adrenaline rush had gotten him through, but now—now there was sunlight and laughter. There was all this golden skin and her honesty. There was need as he’d never known it before.
Drake caught the back of her head, holding her still while he took possession of her mouth, catching her breathy sigh. Kissing her made him a little drunk. There was the odd sensation of soaring when he wasn’t a fanciful person. Once started, it was impossible to stop. He slid his tongue along the seam of her mouth, more than willing to sink further under her spell.
Her mouth was soft warm velvet, her tongue tangling tentatively with his. Her hands went to his shoulders as he shifted just a little to ease his body partially over hers. The tips of her breasts brushed his bare chest through the thin material of her tank top. He pulled the shirt from her in one swift movement and as she gasped, he covered her mouth with his again, swallowing her little shocked cry.
He was a little shocked at the need burning in him, the almost desperate fire raging in his bloodstream. He wanted to go slow and be careful with her. He couldn’t even blame his leopard for the primitive desire to devour her whole. Lust mingled with an almost overwhelming love, making his hands shake as he brought his palm up to cup her full breasts.
He kissed his way down her neck, his teeth biting gently at her scented skin as he followed the line of her throat to the swell of her breasts. For just a moment he looked at her, drinking in the confused, nearly dazed expression, her little moan of pleasure and half-closed eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “So damn beautiful you break my heart.”
Her breathing had become agitated, her breasts rising and falling, so tempting with her hard nipples thrusting up at him in invitation. He lowered his head and lapped gently. Her entire body jerked. She had sensitive nipples and beneath his hand he felt her body shudder with pleasure. He closed his mouth around her right nipple and suckled.
Her back arched, pushing her more deeply into the heat of his mouth. Her cry was soft, her hips bucking. Both hands settled in his hair, but she didn’t push him away. Her cries were like music, a beautiful melody that sent him spiraling deeper into a fever of need. His tongue played over her nipple, stroking and flicking, before his mouth pulled t her strongly again, sending her writhing beneath him.
“Drake?” There was a soft note of fear in the midst of her drenching desire.
“You’re all right, honey. I’ve got you,” he whispered, meaning it. He would never allow anything—least of all him—to harm her in any way. “You’ll love this.”
She swallowed, subsiding on the pillow, nodding, her eyes large and brimming with gold.
Holding her gaze, he moved his attention to her left breast, tugging her nipple gently, watching the heat flare in her eyes before he lowered his mouth and lapped, just before the need to feast overtook him and he suckled like a starving man—suckled until she was writhing again and moaning almost continuously—until her fists tugged at his hair.
One hand smoothed over her belly, stroked her hip and slid briefly over her mound to feel the damp welcoming heat there. She threw her head from side to side and lifted her hips into his palm, gasping for breath. He slid one finger into all that hot honey, that sweetness he craved.
“Oh God,” she whispered, her eyes going completely gold and feral.
He bent his head and licked at her breast, watching her closely as he added a second finger in her tight channel, stretching her as gently as he could.
“Drake,” she called his name, eyes slightly shocked at the sensations pouring through her. “I need . . .” She couldn’t articulate the rest.
“Take it easy,” he soothed her. “I don’t want you hurt. We have to go slow this time. You need slow, trust me, Saria. Slow is good.”
He stroked again and, as if he’d somehow lit a torch, a flash fire raced through him like a fireball. He groaned. He wasn’t certain he could go slow, not with such a craving clawing at his belly.
“I need to taste you, Saria.” His voice was nearly a growl. Hunger was edging out sanity. He had to have her now, had to mark every inch of her with his scent. He’d never been so rock-hard in his life. He kissed his way down her body until he could kneel between her legs. She looked at him with dark, golden eyes, so wide, glazed with heat and need.
He took a breath and looked down at her body, allowing his gaze to drift slowly over her. “Mine.” He exhaled on the word and looped her legs over his arms, pulling her closer as he lowered his head.