He somehow wrestled enough self-control to ask, “You sure?”
“Yes!”
The hunger demanded he fall on her like a wolf, but he fought it back and kissed her there slow, teasing.
Then he bit. Her flesh gave under the sharp slice of his fangs, blood filling his mouth. She arched with a shocked little cry. He started feeding pleasure back to her in long pulses, keeping time with every swallow of her blood.
She felt the first bright, scarlet sting of his teeth as a sudden shock. But delight flooded in behind the flash of pain—a dark, intense pleasure that was somehow all feral male, as if he magically shared what he felt.
All the while, those big hands stroked, one tugging slippery ni**les, the other seeking between her thighs. Sliding parted fingers back and forth around her clit until long curls of delight spiraled up her spine like red ribbons.
The orgasm took her by surprise, a dazzling explosion that made sparks flash in front of her eyes. She cried out.
He growled at the sound. Lifted his head.
Before she quite knew what was happening, he rolled with her, sweeping her under his body, bracing her backside on the seat rimming the tub. Then he was between her thighs and inside her in one long, breathtaking lunge. Kat yowled again at the sheer overwhelming wonder of the sensation.
It felt like he filled her to the throat, deliciously ruthless, surrounding her in slick male muscle, hot and wet and very, very ready. With a rumbling growl, he began to thrust.
Kat hooked her heels over his ass and ground back at him, giving as good as she got, mindless with the clawing rise of need. Wanting more. On the razored verge of something she couldn’t identify.
Something she had to have, if only . . .
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. More. Only a little bit more, and she’d . . .
He roared, a deep bellow of passion, stiffening against her, pulsing deep.
At first she thought it was another orgasm. Hot white, blinding, a delicious, searing pleasure that had her convulsing against him.
And then the pleasure bled away, and she could see again. It seemed she was somewhere else, a room she recognized.
And she saw—
Ridge threw back his head and roared again as his orgasm pulsed in liquid fire. The pounding intensity of it made him shudder and gasp.
Until at last he collapsed, wrapping himself around Kat in exhausted, desperate gratitude.
A thought penetrated his dazed lassitude. We’re going to have to do this again. Takes three, maybe four times to activate the Gift. Thank Merlin.
It came to him that the edge of the tub was probably digging into her butt, so he rolled over with her, draping her across his body. “Damn, Kat,” he said, half-laughing as he lifted his head to look down into her face. “You’ve kicked my . . .”
He broke off. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, her expression blank. He jerked upright in alarm, but she only lolled limply in his arms. “Kat! Kat, what’s . . . ?”
“Mom,” she whimpered. Not exactly the word a man wanted to hear from his new lover. Then she blinked and snapped into focus, her eyes widening in terror. One small hand clamped onto his shoulder, nails digging deep. “Ridge! Ridge, there’s something wrong with my mother!” SIX
Kat scrambled out of the bath, naked, wet, bubbles streaming down her luscious backside. Ridge would have been entranced by the view, had it not been for the panic in her eyes. He levered himself out of the tub and handed her a towel as she looked around in panicked helplessness. “What did you see?” Kat took the towel automatically. “Just a flash of her face. She looked asleep. But I felt a sense of terror, like there’s something horribly wrong.” Fear and doubt warred on her face in heartbreaking combination. “Maybe I just imagined it.”
“You saw this just as you came?” He strode toward the bathroom door, drying his shoulders with the towel he’d snatched off its rack.
“Yes.” She padded after him, her clothes bundled in her hands. “Does that make a difference?”
“Yeah. You haven’t come into your Gift yet—we haven’t made love often enough—but many Latents get visions the first time. If you saw it, it either has happened or is about to.” Kat’s face paled, and she swayed. Seeing her stagger from the corner of one eye, Ridge turned and caught her elbow.
“My mother’s suicidal.” Her eyes looked huge, and she pulled away from him to begin dragging on her clothes, though foam still clung to her wet skin. She hadn’t taken the time to use that towel. “Mama’s battled clinical depression for years, but it’s worse in the Christmas season. She’s attempted suicide twice, but I always got to her in time.”
Ridge cursed, a rolling string of gutter Latin he’d picked up from Arthur.
Kat met his gaze and swallowed, obviously fighting to control her panic. “We’ve got to get back now, Ridge.”