Assassin's Honor (31 page)

           
Although her tone was light and teasing, something else laced its way through the words. He recognized it, but he wasn't willing to give it a name. All it did was
emphasize
the fact that he needed to let her go, while he took a cold shower. Yet he didn't let her go. He couldn't.

           
"I think I disqualified myself a few minutes ago when I didn't retreat back into the bedroom." He searched her face, hoping she'd help him come to his senses by breaking free of his light hold.

           
"Do you want to leave?" The soft question pulled a groan from him. She was asking him if he wanted to leave
her?
Deus, if she knew the power she had over him at this moment, she wouldn't have asked the question.

           
"No," he rasped. "But I'm thinking it might be the better part of valor to retreat."

           
She reached out to touch his chest directly below his injured shoulder. The touch made him ache for her. He was right. He needed to get out of here.
Now.
If he stayed, the consequences--in a move that took his breath away, she leaned forward and feathered a trail of kisses across the breadth of his chest. Tenderly, she caressed his skin, just above the cut Doc had sewn up two nights before. Fotte, she was making it impossible to retreat.

           
He swallowed hard as her hand slid down his side then across his abdomen to his rock-hard erection, where she lightly scraped her fingernail along the length of him. The action tugged a low growl from him, and she pulled back to look into his eyes. The invitation in her gaze made his muscles contract tight with need.

           
With his mind, he stroked her breast, teasing her skin with invisible touches. Her gaze locked with his, she inhaled a sharp breath of pleasure from his mental caress. Taking his time, he lowered his head to nibble at the spot where her pulse throbbed wildly against her peach-colored flesh.

           
"You taste good, dolce mia. Sweet and fresh," he murmured against the side of her throat.

           
"I want you, Ares."

           
The quiet declaration made him grow still and he lifted his head to look down at her. If they did this--no, if he did this, she needed to understand what the blood bond meant from this point forward.

           
"And I want you,
cara
, but I have to explain about last night."

           
"It's all right. I understand."

           
She wrapped her hand around him, and the thunderous beat of his heart echoed in his ears. Deus, he wanted her. Every inch of him craved her.
Needed her in the worst way.

           
"Carissima, I need to . . . Christus . . ." He struggled to breathe as her hand slowly stroked him. If she kept that up, he wouldn't have to worry about sealing the blood bond. "The Sicari blood bond--"

           
"If you want my forgiveness, you have it."

           
"Inamorato . . . you have to . . ." He fought desperately to clear his head, but her touch crowded his mind with pleasure and a desire that was escalating out of control. The warmth of her breath brushed against his earlobe as she nipped at it.
" Dulcis
Mater Dei . . . cara, listen to me."

           
"I'm listening," she murmured as her thumb rubbed over the top of him. "But you're not making a whole lot of sense."

           
"That's because you're driving me crazy, carissima . . ." He shuddered beneath her touch. "I can't think straight when I'm around you."

           
"I like that mix of Latin and Italian you speak. I find it very sexy."

           
An alluring smile curved her mouth as she looked up at him. Her hand curled around his neck and she gently tugged his head down to hers. The minute her lips slid across the edge of his jaw and down to the base of his throat, he could feel his last bit of control slipping away.

           
"Deus . . . Emma . . . I need . . ."

           
Her mouth found his in a whisper-soft kiss that annihilated all rational thought from his head. She tipped her head back slightly and her gaze locked with his. If he hadn't known he was already lost, the desire in her beautiful hazel eyes would simply have confirmed it.

           
He captured her lips beneath his and teased her mouth open. The taste of her was enough to drive him insane. Crisp and tangy, she filled his mouth with a promise of more pleasure than he'd ever imagined. And ever since the first time he'd set eyes on her, he'd imagined a lot. He just hadn't counted on her getting under his skin this way. His body pressed her back into the wall as he eliminated the space between them. The minute his erection brushed against her sex, he drew in a sharp breath of anticipation. It pulled his body taut with an emotion so powerful, he thought he'd come without even touching her. What kind of a hold did this woman have over him that made his anticipation to possess her so intense?

           
In a clear expression of her own need, she thrust her hips forward in a silent demand. He answered by sliding his hand over her hip to delve his fingers into her warm, slick folds. A soft mewl sounded in her throat, and he deepened their kiss as he continued to stroke her. She kissed him back with a fervor that sent his pulse skyrocketing.

           
The woman was heat and sweetness all wrapped up in one soft, feminine body. She wasn't just intoxicating, she took his breath away. Even the way she trembled against him was something to savor. Eager to taste all of her, his mouth caressed her jaw before moving to the side of her neck then downward to a luscious breast. The moment he suckled her, a soft cry parted her lips.

           
It was a sound of keen pleasure and his cock jumped with the need to please her more. A minute later his hunger increased tenfold as her fingers encircled his erection and she slowly stroked him again. Intense and potent, the desire building inside him had become a sharp craving. No woman had ever made him feel like this one did. With a grunt of discomfort, he ignored the fiery protest his injuries made as he cupped her soft derriere and lifted her until he was positioned to slide into her.

           
She automatically wrapped her legs around his hips, her heels pressing into the hard flesh of his buttocks. It was an erotic sensation. Head thrown back, he looked into her passion-filled face. Desire had turned her eyes a shade of emerald green, and if possible, she was even more beautiful than when he'd first entered the bathroom. It set his heart lurching in his chest. He knew from the beginning she'd be trouble. He just hadn't figured on trouble being this heady.

           
Gently, she explored the contours of his face, avoiding the painful cut on his cheek. Her touch light, she slowly traced the outline of his lips. Immediately, he drew one of her fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. In his mind, he mimicked the action with her breast. It pulled a cry of surprised pleasure from her as she arched into him.

           
"For the love of God, Ares," she whimpered between ragged breaths. "I want you.
Now."

           
"Like this?" he rasped as he thrust up into the heat of her.

           
"Yes--oh God, yes," she exclaimed in a husky sob.

           
He closed his eyes the minute her slick heat engulfed him. Deus, she felt incredible wrapped around him. She was like the perfect glove, designed for him alone. The way her insides clenched and rippled over him was unbelievable. He'd known it would be good between them, but not like this. Not this intense craving to possess her until he made her forget every man that had come before him.

           
The sensation shook him with its intensity. Merda, she was going to be his downfall. No. She'd already brought him to his knees. He'd fallen the moment he'd touched her. Violently, he crushed the voice that whispered about the repercussions. It was done now. There was no going back.

           
The wounds on his thighs protested viciously as he thrust into her velvet heat over and over again. But the pleasure drowned out the pain. Aware that his physical strength fell short of its usual level, he created an invisible cradle with his mind to hold her in place as his hand flew out from under her to brace
himself
against the wall.

           
The way he held her didn't allow her the ability to match the intensity of his thrusts, but the way her hot, wet sheath milked his cock pushed him into a mind-numbing place he'd never been before. With a low roar, he buried himself deep inside her, his head burrowing into her breasts as he came with a force that blinded him.

           
A second later, she uttered a similar cry of release and her body clutched at his with a ferocity that reignited the pleasure starting to recede from his body. He held her tight for several long moments until his rebelling muscles won the war against his desire to remain inside her.

           
Slowly he eased her down onto her feet, where she stood trembling against him. There was little space between them, and he rested his forehead against hers as they both fought to regain control of their breathing. Everything had changed now. The blood bond was only part of it. Somehow she'd breached a wall inside him that hadn't been cracked since the death of his parents. He couldn't describe how it had changed him--no, he refused to. He just knew it scared the hell out of him.

           
The knowledge hovered on cognizant thought, but he managed to slam it back into the dark compartment it had emerged from. He'd deal with the consequences of everything when he could think straight. Swallowing hard, he cupped the side of her neck with his hand, his thumb pressing into the bottom of her jaw. Gently he forced her head up so he could kiss her long and deep.

           
He took his time, enjoying the sultry scent of their lovemaking and the warm, sensuous taste of her lips against his. It would be easy to be with her like this all the time. He ignored the protests in the back of his head. When he released her, he splayed his hands on the wall so she was boxed in by his arms. There was a sleepy look about her that indicated how relaxed she was. He smiled.

           
"That, dolce mia," he whispered in a teasing tone, "was worth every bit of the pounding I've taken in the past two days."

           
She gave a small shake of her head, an expression of remorse sweeping across her face. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have interfered, but you were . . . and I couldn't let him . . . I didn't want you to die."

           
"Hush,
cara
."

           
He dipped his head to kiss her again. It was the cut on his hand from the blood bond that slowly broke through his consciousness. It slowly registered on his pain scale as a stark reminder of what he'd done. He stiffened, and it only made matters worse when she curved her body into his. It was as if she were a part of him. As if he'd found a missing piece of himself.

           
No. He was confusing great sex with something else. It was a passing attraction. Feeling anything else was out of the question. But he was lying to himself, and he knew it. He just wasn't going to acknowledge it. Even if he were to acknowledge it, he'd changed everything by making her his. Slowly, he stepped back and drew in a sharp breath as his body reminded him he'd been through hell the night before.

           
"Christus."

           
"It serves you right," she muttered huskily. "Getting out of bed and . . . and . . ."

           
"And making love to the bella I found in my bathroom?" He managed to keep his tone light. But he was feeling far from lighthearted.

           
"You could have died," she said quietly.

           
"But I didn't."

           
"No thanks to me. If I hadn't been at the funeral, none of this would have happened." Her voice echoed with regret and frustration. With a twist of her body, she slipped under his arm. "Last night is a vivid reminder that I don't belong here."

           
He watched her retrieve her towel off the floor where it had landed the moment he'd mentally plucked it out of her hand. The towel cracked loudly as she shook it out and wrapped it around her. He didn't like seeing her vulnerable like this. He closed himself off to the feeling.

           
"In time you will belong, Emma." His gaze met her troubled one. She might not know it, but she already did belong. He just didn't know how to tell her. She shook her head in disagreement.

           
"I'm not convinced, and I'm not sure I want to be."

           
The quiet resignation in her voice slashed into him more than he cared to admit. In silence, he watched the bathroom door close behind her. He wanted her to feel as though she were part of his world.
Wanted her to be happy.
And if she was going to be happy, she had to accept his world for what it was.