Lust surged through him, an ache so fierce he thought he was going to lose it then and there. God, anyone would think he'd been celibate for the last ten years.
In some ways, he supposed he had. Certainly, since Vannah sex had never achieved the same intensity.
He bent, grasping the bra and raising it to his nose. The silky material was still warm from the heat of her body, so rich with the luscious scent of her. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with her fragrance. It affected him in ways he couldn't even begin to describe, and it wasn't just her scent. It was her.
He shoved the wisp of material in his pocket and pushed open the nearby door. It was a stairwell, leading down. He followed it and opened the door at the bottom.
"You're not na**d, wolf,” she said through the two-way. “I'm guessing you're not as eager as you claim."
"You can see me."
"Obviously."
"Then watch and judge for yourself the state of my desire."
He pulled off his tie and dumped it on the stained carpet. His shirt and pants quickly followed, then finally, his shorts. His erection slapped his belly, pulsing with heat and desire.
He glanced at the ceiling, but he couldn't see any mirrors or cameras. She had to be somewhere close.
Pressing the two-way, he said, “So what do you think?"
"I think,” she said, her voice a low purr touched with amusement, “you'd better hurry. That thing looks ready to explode."
Didn't he know it. He glanced right, watching the warm shadows cast by the fire dance across the darkness. That was the logical destination, because of the warmth, because of the sofas and chairs.
He went left. Air stirred past his nostrils, tickling his senses with lush femininity. He grinned in anticipation. She was close. So very close.
The hall was dark, but many of the rooms were open, allowing a whisker of moonlight to filter in and lift the gloom. The ceiling was lined with cracks, probably caused by the roof's collapse onto the floor above, but he had no doubt it was safe. She might want to kill him, but she wouldn't do it in a place that she owned, if only because she wouldn't want the gossip it would cause.
His gaze fell on another lacy wisp of material sitting in the doorway ahead, and the heat in his loins became an ache unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He picked up the panties, raising them to his nose as he had her bra, drawing in the rich scent of her desire.
It only increased his own, and he hadn't thought that possible.
The room beyond the door was empty, holding only dust and cobwebs. But there was an interconnecting door midway down the left wall, and it was open. The darkness beyond was lit by a soft golden light that flickered and gleamed like excited fireflies.
He strode forward. The room beyond the door was small and heated by a fire set in the hearth at the far end. There was no furniture other than a large sofa, and Vannah leaned against its back. She was motionless, her arms crossed over her br**sts, her honey-colored skin so warmed by the flames that she seemed nothing more than a glorious golden statue. He forced himself to stop and drink in the sight of her, even though every inch of him quivered with the need to lose himself in all that rich, golden warmth.
She was so much more perfect than he remembered. Or maybe that was simply his c*ck thinking, not his brain.
"So,” she said, a mocking glint in her green eyes. “You have found your prize. Do you intend to claim it, or are you just going to stand there like a useless prick?"
A low rumble of annoyance rose up his throat. Useless, huh? She should know from experience that useless was not something he could be accused of—in the sack or out of it. A cool smile touched her lips, and she turned, presenting her back to him. Another deliberate taunt that only fueled the fire.
While some part deep down recognized and acknowledged what she was doing, he was more than willing to play along. After all, he was here for sex, nothing more, and that's exactly what she was offering. It was absolutely perfect.
He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her warm, na**d flesh back against his. Her butt rested against his erection, teasing him with heat. He pressed forward a little, so that her cheeks wrapped around him, encasing him in warmth, tormenting him with possibilities he felt no temptation to explore. Not when heaven itself lay so close.
A quiver that was all desire, all need, ran through him, flowing from his fingertips and echoing across her skin. He brushed a kiss across one bare shoulder, running his tongue over her skin, tasting the familiar, tangy richness of the soap she used, combined with the saltiness of sweat. Sweat that was all lust, all longing.
"How do you want me?” he whispered, and lightly nipped her ear.
Another shudder ran through her, and the tempo of her breathing became ragged. “Fast. Hard."
He was pulsing against her, aching for release, but he fought the need pounding through his veins, wanting to prove to her that while it might be fast and furious between them, it was never going to be without passion or complete and utter readiness.
Though readiness was never going to be a problem for him. Never had been when it came to her.
"How fast?"