Married (26 page)

He tongued her soft, then hard, until her clit swelled and pulsed. He sucked her gently, until her body gushed in need. The tendons of her thighs stretched and convulsed, straining, shaking, shuddering against his hold. Her hips twisted, pushing closer until he growled and opened his mouth wider, sweeping the hot flat of his tongue between her folds, ramming the tip against her opening.

He ate her up. His fingers clenched on her thighs, adding to the thrill. Tulah was fluid beneath Adam, lifting for his mouth, twisting against his lips, straining to get closer even as she shied away from the intensity. Her pussy flexed and rippled, a building swell rolling through her. Pressure flared and grew, a deep ache only he could satisfy.

With massive effort, Tulah lifted to her elbows so she could watch. He met her gaze, his eyes neon with need and determination as Adam licked a long line up her slit and flicked her clit. His lips caught her. Pleasure swamped her, blotting out reality. A spasm wracked Tulah’s spine, her elbows lost their strength and she collapsed back to the bed.

He wrenched her legs off his shoulders and surged over her. Tulah was a writhing mess, nearly incoherent as his whole body came into contact with the entire length of hers. Breathless and mute, beyond her capacity to do anything but feel—as he’d commanded—she lifted her legs to his hips, wrapping him tight.

One big palm depressed the mattress at her shoulder, the other closed around her ass. He paused, his fingers kneading, his face lowering to hers. Tulah tasted herself on his lips as Adam thrust into her mouth. His hips shifted, sliding his cock over her sensitized flesh, sending new shimmers of pleasure up her back.

Up and down, there and away, he slipped through her cream repetitively, over her folds, against her clit. So smooth with the honey that flowed from her, so hot. She felt every ridge, every thrum of Adam’s pulse intimately. A new torture that had her crying out for him, that had his jaw bulging with the effort of maintaining his control.

He pulled back, dragging his velvet flesh down until the thick head of his cock rested at her opening. Her body fought for him, sucking the very tip of his dick with a blatant promise of welcome.

“Look at me.” Adam’s voice was dark and strained, not allowing any room for disobedience.

Tulah peeled her eyes open, meeting the hunger in his. His gaze captured her, held her steady and sent her soaring. Energy gathered in his hips, a tangible force between her legs that strummed her nerves like a guitar. He pushed in.

The world stopped turning as he entered her in tiny thrusts, fractions of inches at a time. Torturously slow. Her pussy worked around him, tugging demandingly, filling with heat and cream as her hips jerked. Minutes lengthened to a mind-stealing chain of measured possession. Tulah lost her breath, her ability to cry out, to scream, to think.

All she knew was Adam. His cock stretched her as he’d promised. He filled her until the searing ache of loneliness deep inside her core faded. Somewhere in the hazy depths of her consciousness, Tulah knew it wasn’t just the loneliness of her body he eased. It wasn’t just her pussy he was drilling into or possessing.

She tried to close off her emotions, to shut that door for good, but he demanded entry. Body and mind both, simultaneously. The rigid thickness of him impaling her snatched at her common sense. Instincts raged and prodded, making their own demands, and she jettisoned the idea of standing firm against Adam’s temptation.

Tulah had no choice. She couldn’t fight both him and herself. She let go, followed her instincts and threw open the doors.

She gave him all she was and all she could be. Complete surrender. She softened around him, and let her body flow free. Adam felt the change—she could see it in his eyes, the satisfied light, the telling tautness at their corners. His hand clenched around her ass, pulling her up his length, holding her close until her hips were soldered to his.

“Yes, Tulah. Like that. That’s what I want.”

He pulled back and she didn’t have the breath to protest. She clutched at his shoulders, dug her fingers into his skin. Her legs tightened around his waist. He surged back in, still unhurried, but as powerful as she’d ever felt. Adam was intent, committed to their pleasure, his return a heavy thrust with no end but hers.

He rode her hard, thoroughly, obviously calculating proper force, pressure and speed by her breathless gasps. Tulah watched him watching her, and knew he missed nothing. His expression grew harder, more determined, his lips set into a snarl that spoke volumes of his own need. Tulah threw herself into pleasuring him in return.

The muscles in her legs ached as she forced them to hold him tighter. Her ass clenched and her belly burned with the force of her wild lifting against him. She drove her body up his cock, forcing him to sink into her, single-mindedly enclosing his flesh over and over. She squeezed every muscle at her disposal around him, until he was locked in her heat and cream and his withdrawals sent flares of delicious pain to mingle with the extreme pleasure.

Adam broke with a gasp. He crushed her to the mattress, caught her lips and surged deep. His hands flowed over her body, plucking at her nipples, squeezing her breasts, clawing at her hips. Tulah threw her arms around his neck and held on as his hips surged faster and faster, his cock forging deep and heavy into her depths.

His body, his magic and his presence filled her from the inside out. From the depths of her soul to the surface of her skin, she was nothing more than
his
, in that moment. Tulah didn’t have to worry or care about anything, she didn’t have to fear or scheme or hide. She just had to come, follow where Adam led, and he would take care of the rest.

With that thought, Tulah’s body erupted. Heat snaked through her, the hot wires cutting her spine in half pulled taut and sent singing pulses of pleasure rippling down her back. Her legs clenched, her ass lifted. Her body arched until her nipples were welded to Adam’s chest and her head was digging into the pillow.

There was no breath to scream. Every molecule of air in her lungs was necessary for survival as her body broke around his and pulled him deeper. Adam surged into her, pushing her on, lengthening the spasms working deep inside her, sliding against her flickering skin. She shuddered and held on as blinding flashes of magic took her sight.

Adam pushed hard, locking into her as his release filled her with his heat. His hand thrust between them, pressed against her belly and another flash of heat bored into her abdomen. An endless moment threatened to collapse Tulah’s lungs, then her entire body relaxed and melted into the mattress.

Adam slid to the left, still buried inside her, and gathered her close. Her breathing was ragged, filling the room with harsh sounds as she struggled to find her equilibrium. Adam turned until they were both on their sides, drawing her leg up over his so he could remain within her.

He stroked her back and she fought to stay relaxed as a chill of regret settled over her dewed skin. She pressed closer to him, turned her face into his chest, and held him tight, unsure of whether she was comforting herself or apologizing to him.

Unreality set in, and made the world unfocused.

An eternity passed while the window lightened with the dawn. Finally they got up and got dressed, with Tulah forced to wear what she’d worn the night before. Preoccupied with her inner chaos, she listened as Adam stated his intentions of walking her back to her room, his commands to never be alone and to avoid Graves at all costs, and possibly Muso, too. She agreed just to get away from him and find a private moment where she could sort through her thoughts without his watchful eyes evaluating her.

Doubts were freezing her and guilt was stabbing her in the brain, when she opened the door and stepped into the hall. She felt Adam’s spell ripple around her, like pushing through a gauzy curtain. Half-blind with shame, she collided with a perfumed body.

Constance. Her gaze raked over Tulah’s wrinkled dress before lifting her eyes to peer into the room. Constance’s perfect complexion mottled with outrage, her pale eyes lit with angry calculation. Tulah’s shame and regret evaporated under a searing reminder of what Adam’s other options included and a fierce surge of determination to keep him from falling to the Levy woman’s machinations.

“Well, well,” Constance purred. “Look who’s got a pet.”

“That’s enough, Constance,” Adam said. “It’s your wedding day, shouldn’t you be getting ready or seeing to last-minute details?”

Constance stepped closer, her voice dropping to an angry snarl that scraped Tulah’s already frayed nerves until they bled. “You are an ignorant little nothing, only good enough for a fuck. Not even Graves wants you. Do you really think you’ll hold the Davenold male? Because I promise, you won’t.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Adam

“Speaking from experience, Constance?”

Adam blinked as Tulah’s voice dropped to a hiss filled with more menace than he would have thought her capable of. It touched some primitive part of his psyche, and added to her intrigue.

“You’re out of your depth, sweetie.” Constance’s smile was all teeth and no warmth.

“Am I?” Tulah’s back muscles shifted in a rolling shrug that had Adam remembering exactly how flexible her spine was.

He couldn’t help himself, he loved that the women were snarling over him, and chiding himself wouldn’t stop the excitement of it. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to see how far they’d go.

“You are nothing, and everyone knows it.”

Tulah took a single, gliding step forward. “Just like you are.”

“I have more power than you, silly pet.”

Tulah gave a low, harsh laugh. “Like you, I’m at Graves’ mercy. Unlike you, I’m not trapped there while my father crawls between me and my husband, leaving me cold on my side of the bed and looking for someone else’s power to warm me back up.”

“Oh, please,” Constance scoffed. “Like I give a shit what Graves does. He can fuck the entire male population of the city and I couldn’t care less.”

“Right, you just want the power. Davenold power, because your own people won’t give one iota of their own.”

Constance’s tone smoothed into spun silk. “You think someone like you could really have a shot at holding a man like Adam? You’re nothing more than a warm body in the bed to him.”

“I don’t want power.” Tulah shook her head. “I want freedom.”

Constance threw back her head, a bark of laughter shooting from her throat. “That’s precious. You’ll have to write me when you get to Africa and tell me what it’s like to be fucked by your own uncle,
pet
.”

“Right after you tell me what it’s like to be the third wheel caught between Graves and your father. Or is that how you like it, Constance? Do you scream for your daddy?”

Adam’s mouth dropped. His fragile tigress had claws. Constance’s pretty face hardened into an ugly mask. “You will never be anything more than a man’s toy. Passed from bed to bed until you break.”

“What are you doing here, Constance?” Adam broke in, suspicious of the rigidity of the women’s bodies and knowing from experience the hell of breaking up a catfight. He pushed past Tulah.

Constance’s anger melted into sweetness in the blink of an eye. Her entire demeanor underwent a radical change, softening as she stepped close to sink against his body. Her lower lip pouted out the tiniest bit, her big blue eyes turned luminous. Adam set her back a step, ignoring her deepening pout.

“I was looking for you. I wanted to apologize for arguing with you last night, Adam. My emotions are just everywhere, what with the stress of the wedding and all that’s going on. Please forgive me.”

“Sure,” he agreed easily. “I’ll offer my apologies as well. Now, if you’ll excuse us—”

“I was hoping to talk to you.” She tried her best to cuddle up to him.

Pushing her back, Adam held on to his patience through sheer force of will. “About what?”

Constance flicked a glare at Tulah. “A private conversation, sweetie. Just between you and me.”

“I don’t think we have time for a chat, honey. You’re getting married today.” Adam cocked his head, swallowing against the flood of nausea suddenly threatening his composure. “You
are
still getting married today, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Constance said. “But I wanted to talk to you about life after my marriage.”

“I think that’s a conversation best left until after you’re married.”

“But—”

“I’ll see you later.”

Constance relented with barely concealed hostility, but her tone was sweetness and light when she said, “Oh, yes, is your grandmother feeling better?”

Adam kept his face completely still, unwilling to show his confusion. “That’s one of the things I have to check on.”

He released Constance and turned his back on her, holding out his hand for Tulah. She latched on to his fingers without looking at her rival and a shaft of admiration went through him, knowing Constance wouldn’t have been able to contain her smugness if he’d taken her hand instead. Adam hated pettiness in his partners—it made his life that much more difficult—but Tulah was composed.

With the hot weight of Constance’s glare boring into his back the whole way, Adam walked Tulah down the hall. Stopping at her door, he threw it open, wincing at the oppressive space but noting there was no one waiting for her inside. She would be safe.

She turned to look up at him and her vulnerability punched him in his gut. Her eyes swirled with dark emotion, and she looked on the verge of tears, her lips pulled down at the corners. Unlike Constance, she didn’t snuggle into his side and make a production of her damsel-in-distress act. Tulah was fighting for strength, not pretending weakness.

“I’m sorry, Adam,” she said softly. “That wasn’t well done of me and I’m sure it was uncomfortable for you.”

“Maybe I like it when women fight over me.”

Her caramel eyes went wide before she looked down to study the hideous carpet. “I shouldn’t have said those things to her. I just… It makes me angry to know that she’s playing every side she can, looking for power on all fronts.”