Master of Desire (Merlin's Legacy #6) - Angela Knight Page 0,62

temptation had to have been intense if Lugh… But I knew Helena would keep you grounded if anyone could.” She eyed the two of them, and he was abruptly aware of how blood-smeared and bedraggled they both looked. “Why don’t you two go on to bed?”

Conal blinked at her. Oh, God, she can probably smell the pheromones.

“Uh…” Helena said, looking every bit as taken aback as he felt. “I thought I’d give you a report.”

“Tomorrow is soon enough.” She reached up to stroke Essus. “In the meantime, Essus and Liam can fill me in.” Straightening, she extended her free hand. Helena drew the Desert Eagle from her shoulder holster and handed him over. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Neither of them was in the mood to argue.

Chapter Ten

Conal followed Helena into her quarters, his body feeling hard and heavy with need. Liam’s ice-water bath seemed to have worn off.

Rather than jump her the minute the door closed behind them, he made himself take a slow look around as they walked through the sitting room/study, with its desk and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with books, including a collection of dog-eared paperbacks. Weapons and magical items hummed power between the volumes -- daggers, swords, an axe, helms and gemstones. A pair of leather armchairs sat before a brick fireplace, one with a paperback lying on the seat.

The bedroom beyond it was opulent. Most of one wall held a bay window with a view of the moonlit gardens and the white marble fountain at its heart: Maeve, water spilling from her open hands as marble animals cavorted through the spray.

But all that was secondary to the bed -- and not just because he badly wanted to get Helena into it. It was big enough to accommodate her dire wolf form, round rather than rectangular. Curving organic shapes rose around it on three sides, branching like the rack of an enormous stag, the tips glowing with pearlescent light. Narrow swaths of white gossamer lace draped between the tines, crossing and re-crossing to form a canopy. It was quite possibly the most romantic bed he’d ever seen. Especially for a badass werewolf troubleshooter. “Wow.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a little much.” She looked a bit embarrassed.

“No,” he said softly. “It’s beautiful. It suits you.” And she’d look beautiful in it, warm and brown among all that cool white lace.

“Ah. Good.” She paused, bit her lip.

Something metallic towered in his peripheral vision. He pivoted, tensing automatically, then relaxed when he realized it was a suit of armor. Though designed in the graceful Sidhe style, it was obviously intended for her werewolf form, given the long-muzzled helm and the back-curving canine thighs. He imagined how she’d look in it. Beautiful and deadly…

Fabric rustled. He glanced back to see Helena peeling off what was left of her dress. Again. Suddenly he no longer gave a shit about the décor. Not with that deliciously sleek body right there, curving hips, long legs with the neatly trimmed nest between them, round breasts with their tight, dark nipples. The lust Liam had doused with that bucket of ice water burst into roaring flame. He took an eager step toward her as his cock instantly went from semi-hard to tempered steel. “Helena…”

She swallowed, staring at him, her eyes wide and dark with the need for something more than sex. “I… the bath…”

“Screw the bath. I came too fucking close to losing you.” He had to touch her, taste her, feel her heart beat against his. He lunged for her as she flung herself into his arms. Her mouth was hot and impossibly soft against his as she pressed into him, naked and lithe, as the scent of her pussy drowned every other thought in his head. He tangled his fingers in her hair, as she hooked first one long, bare leg over his hip, then the other. Groaning, Conal filled his free hand with the warm silk of her ass as she climbed him, kissing him with intoxicating greed.

A slim fist wrapped the collar of his shirt, dragged at it until it tore. He let go of her long enough to let her strip the rag off him and dump it on the floor. The whole time, he could feel her bare pussy grinding against his erection, separated only by the material of his slacks. Her mouth tasted of smoke and fire, desperation and love. He hadn’t known love had a taste.

Still kissing her, he carried her over to that incredible bed. She unwrapped