It made her want to laugh, except that her body was starving of this hunger that had been a lifetime in the making and all she wanted was to see him. She released him, to the accompaniment of his complaining groan. "Take off your clothes." She began to push at his jeans, exposing the erotic line of his hip bones.
He kissed her before rising in a smooth catlike move and disposing of his clothing in what amounted to seconds. Then he was coming down on her again and in the light, his body was pure male animal, his skin molding to muscle, his body heavy with arousal.
He settled between her thighs, making room for himself by spreading her legs wider. She cooperated. But she wasn't ready to surrender yet. Not giving him warning, she slid her hand between their bodies and gripped him once more. He groaned, his back arching, the tendons on his neck standing out in vivid relief.
Raising her head, she kissed him at the base of his neck before lying back down, her hand fisted around him. He shuddered, dropped his head. "You can play later."
She ran her fisted hand up and down the straining length of him, pushing her own arousal to the limit even as she pushed him. To her delight, he didn't rush her, though his eyes warned that she was about to push him too far. It only made her hotter. To be in bed with a man she trusted this much was a revelation. "I adore you."
He groaned. "Tally."
Her hunger spiked and when he tugged off her hand, she didn't fight him. He was nudging at her a second later. She gripped his shoulders, drew the scent of him into her lungs, and waited. He nudged the tip of his erection into her and every nerve in her body went haywire. He was so hard, she was buttery soft. It was perfect - if he'd move. She tried to rock forward but he held her in place.
She was about to tell him this was no time to tease when she realized he was trying to find control. He was much bigger, far stronger than her. But she didn't want him in control. And she trusted him with every cell in her body, her surrender to him absolute.
"Clay, I swear to God, if you don't bury yourself in me right now, I'm going to reach down and bring myself to - " Her throat froze up as he pushed himself into her in a single thrust. He was stretching her apart, killing her with pleasure. Parts of her body that had never before been touched were being touched and she wanted to beg for more. Because this was Clay, she did. "Move," she said, voice husky. "Please move."
He nuzzled at her throat, caught her lips in a kiss. "Ready?"
She looked into his eyes and nodded. "Ready."
The last thing she remembered thinking was that she had never seen a more beautiful man in her life. A moment later, pleasure crashed through her like thunder and Clay became her world, her universe, her reason for being.
Sometime during the night, Clay had carried her upstairs and to bed. Talin wasn't sure how - she had vague memories of being tossed over his shoulder, his hand on her upturned bottom. But really, she didn't care. Because when she woke, it was to find her face snuggled against Clay's chest, his thigh between hers.
Smile wide, she pressed a kiss to the skin below her lips. He did that purring thing again. "My kitty," she teased, stroking her fingers over the silky heat of him.
Grumbling, he squeezed the thigh he'd pulled over his hip. "Go to sleep."
"It's daytime," she pointed out, able to tell from the light seeping in through the windows.
"Too early." Then he pretended to snore.
She kissed him again and laid her head against his chest. His heart beat strong and steady, anchoring her. "What will we do today?" Her laughter faded.
"Get one step closer to finding your Jon." He pushed his hand into her hair, cupped the back of her head. "Have faith."
"I do. I just...I wish I could swoop in and save him like a hero out of some comic book."
"You are his hero, Tally. You made sure he wasn't forgotten."
"You know, when I thought I might have a lot of Psy blood, I was angry. I like being human." The genetic link had threatened her identity, the one thing no one had ever been able to steal from her. "But at the same time, I can't help but wonder if I could've done more to save the children if I had had Psy gifts or changeling strength." Surrounded by the extraordinary power of both races, it was difficult not to feel weak.
"Don't." Clay's voice was firm. "You're you because you're human. I like you."
She rolled her eyes even as her lips threatened to curve. "I like you, too, even if you're only half human," she teased. "But sometimes, being only human - "
"Be quiet and listen," he ordered in that dominant tone that intrigued her even as it infuriated. "Do you know about the eighteenth century's Territorial Wars?"
Chapter 34
"Sure, we learned about it in school." Thousands of changelings had died in the bloodshed, taking the other races with them.
"Do you know the name of the man who helped draft the laws that ended the war?"
"Adrian Kenner," she said, flipping through her memory files to retrieve the name. "He was a side note in a history textbook."
"A side note to the other races, maybe," Clay said. "He's considered a critical figure in changeling history. All our children know his name. What most people forget, though" - he brushed his lips over hers - "is that Adrian Kenner was only human, too."