Heart of Stone (14 page)

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Authors: Christine Warren

BOOK: Heart of Stone
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Without saying another word, he maneuvered her back inside through the bedroom window and quickly climbed in behind her. Crowding against her, he cupped his hands around her hips and guided her relentlessly toward the bed. Ella didn’t bother to protest.

Instead, she scooted backwards into the center of the mattress and continued to scowl at him. “Why did you change your form?”

He raised an eyebrow and stripped off the shirt that had appeared when he shifted. “You think you’d like being fucked by a monster?”

“You’re not a monster,” she said with a glare, trying not to be distracted by the smooth, bronzed expanse of his muscled chest. Lord, no matter what he looked like. “And either way, you’re you. Did I give you any indication you creeped me out in your natural form?”

He stared at her through narrowed eyes, then shrugged. “No. But I can’t take you in that body. I could hurt you too easily. As it is, I will have to take great care not to injure you. You are so small and delicate. So different from me.”

Ella grinned. “Well, I hope so—otherwise, this would be an entirely different experience. One I’d not be so into.”

Kees stalked closer and reached for the fly of his jeans. “Don’t worry, little human. I will be gentle.”

“Not too gentle, I hope. I’m tougher than I look.” She rose to her knees as he approached, and ran a hand over the bare skin of his chest. In neither form had she seen him with body hair. She didn’t mind a man with hair, but this allowed her to see every twitch and ripple of his delicious muscles. “And my name is Ella.”

He growled and cupped the back of her head in one giant hand, yanking her forward for another devouring kiss.

Ella met him hunger for hunger. Her tongue tangled with his, briefly caressing, then sliding away to tease with fleeting touches to his lips. He gave chase, a born conqueror, and fisted his hand in her hair. Ella moaned at the slight pressure and dug her fingers into his shoulders.

God, how she wanted him.

The feeling—the
instinct—
appeared to be mutual.

His free hand ran down her arm, over her hip and back up, sliding over her ribs to cup her breast. Electricity jolted through her. She’d never thought of her breasts as particularly sensitive, but she could swear she felt every single nerve ending under her skin jump at his touch. His hand felt warm, a burning pressure even through the fabric of her blouse and bra.

The layers of cotton didn’t seem to impress him. He grumbled something beneath his breath, drawing back from her mouth to scowl down at her still fully clothed form.

He released her and grasped the hem of her cotton top. “Off,” he snarled, and yanked the offending garment up over her head.

She couldn’t have cared less where it landed when he tossed it aside. All she wanted was to feel his hot, smooth skin against hers.

His hands came back around her, sliding along the indent of her waist, seeming to savor the softness of her skin and the warmth of her curves. Ella had what she considered an ordinary body, not fat and not thin, with breasts too big to go braless and too small to draw unwanted attention. She had always thought her stomach a little too soft, her waist and thighs a little too thick, but Kees seemed to savor the feel of her. The expression of intense admiration on his face made her even hotter, if that were possible. A minute ago, she would have argued no.

She would have been oh so wrong.

Dark eyes gleaming, Kees leaned forward and pressed his face against the curve of her shoulder. She felt his chest expand as he inhaled deeply, drawing in her scent. She turned her head into him, feeling his dark hair brush like strands of satin against her cheek, and savored his own unique fragrance. He smelled of night and dark forests and clean burning flames. She wanted to warm herself against his skin.

Her head fell back, too heavy to support, when he closed his teeth gently on the vulnerable spot where her neck met her shoulder. The heat and pressure shot straight to her center and she could feel herself growing wet. Suddenly the comfortable trousers she wore felt anything but, and her bra seemed to cut into her skin, now three sizes too small. She whimpered and wriggled against him.

She felt a huff of air against her skin, like a silent chuckle, and Kees released the bite. His tongue smoothed over the spot, laving at the indentations left by his teeth, before he trailed a line of kisses over her skin, following the path left by the finger he used to push her bra strap off her shoulder and down her arm.

He repeated the action on the other side, first the bite, then the kisses, until both her bra straps drooped uselessly against her arms and she felt ready to scream with the frustration of still being mostly and irritatingly dressed.

“Kees,” she moaned, digging her nails into his biceps, holding on for dear life while her world went up in flames.

He heard the plea in her voice, he must have, but he merely laughed again, softly, and let his hands go wandering, sliding up and down her already overly sensitive skin. He teased around the waistband of her trousers, then down the top of the material to knead the tense muscles of her thighs.

Who would have thought an emotionless stone warrior could be such a damned tease?

He pressed a kiss to the skin between her breasts just above the clasp of her bra. If he didn’t flick the thing open and peel the damned bra off her in the next fifteen seconds, she swore to all that was holy, she would find a way to make him suffer. Just see if she didn’t.

In fact, she should start now.

Releasing her grip on him, she opened the clasp herself and let the two halves peel away. Just before her nipples popped into sight, she used her hands to sweep the lacy fabric away and covered herself, deliberately denying him a glimpse.

He hissed a warning and his eyes narrowed, his hands abandoning their explorations to close over her own. He tugged gently, but his gaze remained on her face, not her breasts.

“Let me see,” he demanded.

“Oh, so now you want to? A minute ago, you didn’t seem like you were in any particular hurry.”

He leaned in and set his teeth against the inner curve of her left breast where her small hands left too much skin exposed.

“A minute ago, the only thing standing in my way was a scrap of nothing. I could see your pink little nipples begging for me through the fabric. But these—” He tugged her hands again, more firmly. “—these have cut off my view. Let me see.”

Ella’s mouth curved, naughty impulses she’d never felt before urging her to tease and taunt him for every inch she surrendered. She parted the fingers of her right hand just enough for the tip of her tightly beaded nipple to poke through and nestle against his palm. “Let you see? You mean, like this?”

Kees made a low sound of arousal and let his hands fall. He gripped her hips and pulled her toward the edge of the mattress, imprisoning her between his muscled thighs. “The other.”

“Oh, like this.” Grinning even wider, Ella closed her right hand and parted the fingers on her left, concealing the first nipple even as she revealed the second.

Kees grumbled a warning, and Ella giggled softly, feeling like a temptress for the first time in her life. She could sense the desire pouring off the man in front of her, and to be wanted so obviously, so fiercely, went to her head like moonshine. He made her feel like a goddess.

Provided goddesses got this horny.

Before she could think of another way to taunt him, his head swooped down, and she felt the hot swipe of his tongue against her nipple. She nearly collapsed into a heap of boneless lust.

Suddenly she went from teasing to begging, moving her hands from concealing her breasts to cupping and raising them to his mouth like an offering. He took immediate advantage, closing his lips around one firm peak and drawing on it with fierce intensity. Ella moaned and arched to encourage him in taking even more. Whatever he could take, she burned to give.

He used his teeth and tongue on her, scraping over the peaks, then swirling around and tugging her deeper for another bout of strong suction. She could feel her bones melting and reached out to brace herself against his shoulders, struggling to stay upright where he could feast on her forever.

Kees, though, had other ideas. His hands tightened around her hips, lifting her easily and settling her in the middle of the wide mattress. He came down over her, releasing her nipple only to move to its twin to repeat the torture nibble for nibble. His hands finally—finally—went to her trousers and stripped the garment from her, taking her panties along with it. She stretched beneath him, bare and aching, held captive by an entirely new form of magic, one she’d thought existed only in books and movies.

And porn. Only in porn did people appear to need sex as badly as she needed it right that minute. If Kees didn’t fuck her soon, she was going to die. Literally. She could spontaneously combust at any minute now.

Ella bent her knees, drawing her legs up to wrap them around his waist, only to encounter the thick, rough fabric of his jeans. She whined in protest and immediately reached for the offending denim, intent on sending it wherever her own clothes had disappeared to.

To her surprise and pleasure, instead of finding a buttoned fly, she found an open vee of hot skin and rough hair that began on his lower belly and traced a happy path down to his groin. She recalled briefly that he’d opened his jeans earlier, but she distracted him before he’d gotten them off. Now she was distracted, her attention immediately wandering when she realized she could slip her hand into that opening and curl her fingers tightly around his erect shaft.

He felt huge and hot and hard, velvety skin over red-hot iron. He was thick enough that her fingers didn’t close around his girth, and as she stroked slowly from tip to root, she realized he boasted impressive length as well. Her pussy clenched in anticipation. She hadn’t had a lover in a long time, and never one like Kees. The idea of taking him inside her both aroused and intimidated her. She knew her body was designed to stretch, but she didn’t think it had ever stretched quite so far before.

Ella squeezed, wringing a groan from his throat that echoed the torments of the damned. Usually, though, the damned didn’t lean into the torment in a silent entreaty for more. Or so she assumed. She didn’t think hell was likely to be kinky.

She repeated the motion and could almost hear the snap of the thread that had held Kees back until now. Abandoning her nipple with a pop of released suction, he swooped down for a ravenous kiss before levering himself off the bed and to his feet.

Momentarily dazed, she reached out for him, but by the time she raised her heavy limbs, he had stripped off the last barrier between them. His eyes glowed, almost more flame than black, as he turned to climb back into the bed above her.

Another kiss had her moaning and gasping for air, her arms wrapping around him, hands clutching as she tried to bring him down over her. She felt desperate to experience his weight, the sheer bulk of him pressing her against the mattress, pinning her in place with his hands and his body as he drove into her softness.

Kees had other plans, apparently. Instead of settling over her and bringing their bodies together the way she needed, he dragged his mouth from hers and drew it over her chin and down her throat, nipping and scraping and licking as he went. It felt as if he mapped her body, tracing every curve from the soft angle of her collarbone, over the slope of her breast.

Her nipples received special attention, enough to make her pant and plead, but then he moved on, nuzzling the heavy undersides of her breasts, drawing in her scent. He moved slowly, almost reverently, down her rib cage and over the soft curve of her belly until she felt his breath stir the short, dense curls over her mound.

He was trying to kill her, she decided, struggling for air or sanity, already convinced she could forget having both. When his big, rough hands slid down her legs to grasp her just above the knees, her heart nearly did give out. Her muscles definitely did. They yielded at his slightest touch, parting at his urging, giving to the pressure until he had spread her obscenely wide before him.

Ella quivered, as tense as a drawn bow. She felt the cold air against her most tender flesh, her own dampness chilling her when the faintest draft feathered over her. Then she felt a grazing warmth puff of air, and she tucked her head back hard against the mattress and prayed for him to touch her.

He didn’t disappoint.

She heard a low rumble of pleasure and felt his fingers tighten on her inner thighs as he dipped his head and set the flat of his tongue firmly against her damp folds. A cry escaped her, thin and high, but she was too far gone to care. It caught and stuttered in her throat when he dragged through the softness, swirling slowly around her clit before finishing the swipe with a flick to the sensitive nub. Ella whimpered.

When he did it again, she shuddered.

The tenth time, she screamed as her body unraveled in a rush of ecstasy.

She heard his rumble of amusement under the strangled rasp of her own panting. She felt limp and wrung out and hoped he could take care of the rest of this without a lot of help from her. She figured it would be Thursday before she regained control of her own limbs.

Thursday at the earliest.

Kees gave no indication that he noticed her lack of energy. He simply eased his way up her body until he pressed against her side from the top of her tousled hair to the tip of her limp toes. He held himself half over her, braced on one arm and the knee he tucked between her thighs, and when he bent toward her, he blocked out all the light in the room.

He stole all the oxygen, too. As if she wasn’t having enough trouble breathing.

She felt his lips brush against hers, and a small tingle of electricity took her by surprise. She hadn’t thought she had it in her. Then his tongue teased between, and she sighed. He kissed her deeply, intently, but slowly, and Ella did her best to respond. The man deserved that much, even if she doubted she could offer much more than limp compliance. At least, not until after she’d had a nap. Give her a couple of hours of sleep, and she’d rock his Rip Van Winkled little world.

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