Passion Untamed (13 page)

“Drooling? You didn’t buy any?”

“I didn’t have any money.”

That simple statement told so much, confirming that she didn’t have the power of a witch, to control the mind of a human and take what she wanted. Then again, he suspected she wouldn’t have taken even if she’d been able to. Stealing wasn’t in her nature any more than the slaughtering of innocent creatures. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he’d bet money on it.

“How did Vhyper know I’d wind up at the Market?”

“It’s the only public building on the mountain.”

Paenther considered that. “I won’t send you back there.”

“I don’t want you to.” The strength in her eyes hardened. “I meant what I said to Lyon. I won’t be used to free more Daemons.” Fire leaped in her blue-and-copper eyes as she released her legs and rose to her knees. “I’m not your enemy, Paenther. I’m not the enemy of any of your people. I
hate
Birik. I
hate
what he’s doing, and I’ll do
anything
to help you stop him. Anything. I know you can never completely trust me, but trust me in this. Please?”

He pushed away from the wall and went to her, as drawn to the fire of her conviction as to the woman herself. She didn’t back away when he sat on the edge of the bed in front of her, mere inches from her knees.

“I do trust you.” He reached for her hand and took it in his. “But I want you to trust me, too. Trust me when I tell you I don’t hurt women, not without certain cause.” His thumb brushed the back of her hand, his fingers, caressing the soft flesh of her palm, sending tendrils of excitement snaking along the edge of his flesh. “It may take me a while to get past the copper in your eyes. It’s been a symbol of all I’ve distrusted for too long to forget easily.”

With his free hand, he reached for her face, glad she didn’t turn away. As he slid his fingers along the silken line of her jaw, awareness rippled through the air between them. “But I won’t hurt you, Skye.”

To his surprise, she lifted her hand, her soft palm mirroring his, sliding along the edge of his jaw. Her eyes softened and glistened, tightening the band of tenderness around his heart.

“No matter what happens,” she said softly, her fingers lifting to stroke his cheek, making him ache with the need to take her into his arms. “No matter what you ultimately have to do with me, I want you to know you’re the finest man I’ve ever met.”

He wanted to object. The only thing he intended to ultimately do with her was protect her. But he couldn’t make that promise. Not when there were still so many unknowns about her role in all this.

Besides, her words made his conscience rebel. “How can you think that when I’ve hurt you?” Not only had he torn a chunk from her arm, but
he’d scared them both by what he’d almost done to her in the prison.

“You never hurt me without reason. Never for the fun of it.” Her fingers slid into his hair, sliding through the locks, making him want to purr. “Even when you scared me, even when I thought you were going to hurt me downstairs, I understood why. What I did to you, capturing you, was reprehensible.”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

She looked away, even as her fingers dug more deeply into his hair as if she needed to anchor herself. Her eyes, when they looked up again, were deep wells of regret. “I did have a choice, though. I almost told you to run that day, the day I led you into the woods. I was terrified of what would happen to you if I captured you. Birik had assured me I’d be able to keep my Feral, that he didn’t mean to kill you, but I knew he’d do whatever he wanted. His word means nothing. But I also knew that if I let you go, Birik would only capture another Feral for me.”

Her gentle thumb stroked his cheek. Her fingers moved, their tips trailing across his mouth, sending tendrils of lush excitement heating his blood. Her gaze flicked back to his, her eyes luminous, reflecting the heat he felt in his own.

“I didn’t want another Feral, Paenther. I wanted you. It was selfishness that made me lead you into the woods that day. I wanted you inside me. And I wanted to keep you.”

Her admission probably should have angered
him, but all it did was inflame him more. Because the truth was, from the moment he first laid eyes on her, he’d wanted her, too. His hands slid into her soft hair and he pulled her to him and kissed her, a tender kiss meant to cherish instead of dominate. A kiss he wanted to share instead of take.

His lips moved over hers slowly, sensuously, as he savored the heady brush of flesh against sensitive flesh. When her tongue darted out, he nipped it lightly then stroked it with his own, pulling it into his mouth. Passion erupted, stealing his breath. He needed her beneath him, her legs spread. And it would be so easy. So easy because he knew exactly what she wore under that shirt of his. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

With a few deft strokes of his fingers he could make her want him as badly as he wanted her. She was his prisoner, now. He held all the power.

And for that reason, he held back. He wouldn’t take advantage of her. Not when so many already had.

But, goddess, he
wanted
. His mouth opened fully over hers, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth, drinking the taste of raindrops. Her soft hands slid around his neck and into his hair as she kissed him back, her tongue quick and strong, parrying every thrust.

His breath became ragged, lifting in time with hers until they both sounded like they’d been running hard and fast. He thought he’d happily drown in the taste of her, in the scent of violets.

Her hand slipped down to his bare chest, her touch almost rough as it grazed his nipple, then lifted to his shoulder and down his arm, caressing his skin, molding the muscle beneath her hand.

Over and over, he told himself this was just a kiss. Just a kiss. But the heat built, second by second. If there had been power orbs in the room, they’d have been spitting with light. What was it about her that sent his passion spiraling into orbit and had him flaming like the sun?

His hand moved down to slide over one small, perfect breast. Her nipple pebbled, pressing against his palm through the silk of the shirt. His body surged, hard and throbbing with need.
Take it slow
. But he had to touch her. He had to feel that flesh beneath his palm.

Knowing better than to reach under her shirt if he wanted to retain any scrap of sanity at all, he unbuttoned her from the top instead, two buttons, then three, until his hand slipped freely inside. As his palm cupped that perfect mound, he gripped the back of her head with his other hand and kissed her hard, desperately, inhaling her.
Needing her
.

The feel of her hand on his shaft jerked him out of his insanity even as it threatened to send him over the edge for good.

With a strength born of all he’d watched her suffer, he forced himself to let go of her and take gentle hold of her wrists, pulling her hands to his mouth.

She looked at him, her eyes searching his, heat
and uncertainty swirling in their depths as he kissed her palms, one after the other.

“You don’t want me touching you there?” she asked, no feigned innocence in her eyes. Her uncertainty was all too real.

“I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

Her delicate brows drew together. “How does my touching you mean you’re taking advantage?”

He squeezed her hands softly. “You’ve had to give yourself to too many people, for too many years.”

“That’s not true. I’ve never given myself to anyone. Others have taken. But you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, Paenther. The only one I’ve ever touched like that.”

Her words tightened the band around his chest and only inflamed his desire more.

She pulled her hands from his, then rose to her knees and cupped his face, looking down at him from her slight advantage. Her eyes held soft vulnerability and raging heat.

“Do you want me?” she asked huskily.

He gripped her waist because he couldn’t keep his hands off her. “That’s not the issue.”

“I think it is. Your body’s ready for me, Paenther. I felt it. But I won’t push you. I know how you feel about the Mage.”

He tightened his grip on her. “It has nothing to do with your being Mage. I want you, little witch. I’m throbbing for want of you. I just think we should take it slower. You deserve that.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek, her arms curving around his neck as she turned and brushed her cheek to his, like a creature starved for touch. Exactly what she was, he realized.

He pulled her tight against him.

“I want what we had in the woods that day, before you knew what I was.” Her words, against his ear, were but a whisper. She was starting to tremble. “It’s never been like that before. Or since. I want you to touch me like that again.”

She pulled back where she could face him, looking into his eyes with a trust and a tenderness that slew him. “Please, Paenther? We may never get this chance again. And I need to be close to you.”

She was shooting his good intentions to hell, but he was beginning to understand. Yes, she’d been used, but the worst thing Birik had done to her was isolate her. From kindness and comfort. From tenderness and touch. She’d had her animals, briefly, before they were slaughtered each night. But she’d lacked the touch of her own kind.

He remembered the way she’d crawled up beside him on the stone slab. Even after he’d attacked her and torn a chunk from her arm, she’d curled around him in sleep. She’d almost never been in that room that she hadn’t been touching him.

She might not be Feral, with his own animal need for physical contact, but she was more at one with the animal world than most. And she clearly hungered for that contact.

With him.

The softness toward her expanded inside him, swelling, giving birth to a tenderness he wasn’t sure he could contain. Without a doubt, she was casting a spell over him, weaving a net around his heart. A net he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to escape.

“You want me,” he murmured against her temple. His hand slid down her hip, to the hem of the shirt that covered her.

“Yes, Paenther.
Yes
.”

His fingers curved around her warm thigh, then started a soft, sensual climb to her heat.

Skye curled her hands behind Paenther’s neck as his warm fingers slid up her bare thigh and curved around her hip. She’d begged him to touch her again, to take her in the most basic way. Her body quaked with anticipation even as her heart swelled with a raw affection for this man who had so many reasons to hate her yet treated her with more caring, more gentleness, than anyone since her mother.

She pulled back, her gaze caressing the strong lines of his face, those high cheekbones and the feral slashes across his eye, then dipped to his mouth. Her own lips parted, longing to feel his again.

As if reading her mind, he leaned forward. She met him halfway, melding her mouth with
his, shoving her tongue into his mouth even as he shoved his into hers. She craved his kiss and his touch. Three times he’d come inside her, but only one of those times had he been free to touch her. Only that time in the woods when she’d captured him, and it had all happened too fast.

“Lift up,” he murmured against her mouth, as his hands gripped her hips on either side and lifted her off her heels.

Skye pulled back from his kiss, watching his dark, passion-filled eyes.

“Spread your knees for me, Beauty. Let me touch you.”

Thick, damp heat gathered low inside her as she did what he asked, her gaze locked on his as she curved her hands over the thick muscles of his bare shoulders to steady herself. She held on to him as his hand traveled from her hip to her stomach, then slowly down.

As her breath caught with frantic anticipation, his other hand slid inside her shirt and covered her breast, setting fire to the sparks already consuming her. She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as his own finger and thumb plucked at her nipple, drawing hot gasps of pleasure from her throat until she was leaning into his touch, silently begging for more.

The hand on her stomach slid down into her curls before sliding lower, straight to the source of her heat. As a single finger teased the hot core of her pleasure, her hands slid into his hair, and
she grabbed his head, holding on against the torrent of sensation. His finger stroked between her legs, flicking the center of her heat over and over until she was moaning and rocking against his hand. Then his finger slid deep inside her, curling against her inner walls, circling the edges of her sheath, around and around, harder, faster, until she felt she was spinning in the eye of a storm.

“Paenther
.”

A second finger dove inside her, both shoving deeper still as she pressed her hips down, groaning with pleasure.

Paenther’s head dipped, his mouth on her breast. No one had ever touched her like this. No one had ever tried to give her pleasure at all. No one but Paenther.

As he sucked on her breast, one hand pressed against her back, holding her close as the fingers of the other pressed deep into her body until she was moaning, lost in the whirlwind of sensation.

Paenther’s warm mouth released her breast, moving slowly to her chest and her shoulder. He pulled her closer as his mouth went to her neck. His hand slid into her hair, and he cradled her head, tilting it away to give him full access to her throat.

A thrill of danger danced down her spine at the thought of how vulnerable she was. If he changed into the half animal who’d ripped open her arm, he could kill her. Then again, with his vastly su
perior strength, he could have killed her at any time.

She trusted him. For now, in this moment, she trusted him.

As he kissed her neck, she rode his fingers, gasping, straining toward release, certain the pleasure couldn’t get any sharper. His hand slid around the back of her neck as his kisses moved to her ear, and she shuddered with delight.

He pulled his fingers out of her suddenly, and she groaned. “
Paenther
.”

“Shhh, Beauty. Patience.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it off over her head in one impatient tug, then moved away to remove his pants with a sensuous feline grace. His body was a study in male perfection. She’d seen him aroused before, but the sight of him now, thick and long and wholly erect, took her breath away. He was twice the size of any Mage. And she was more than ready for him.

With a low, animal growl, he swept her into his arms, deposited her in the middle of the bed, and followed her down. She looked up into his face, waiting for him to come to her, but he didn’t move. For long moments, he looked into her eyes, their gazes twined. She felt herself falling into the black depths of his eyes, spinning head over feet. The sweet pressure in her chest grew until her chest hurt.

She adored him.

If only he could be hers.

Paenther’s knuckles brushed her cheek as he stared down at her, then he dipped his head and claimed her mouth, and the passion exploded all over again.

His soft hair caressed her cheeks as his hand slid down her hip, to her thigh, and back up again with barely controlled passion. She curled her arms around his neck and held on, but her Feral wouldn’t be caged, not even within her arms. He nuzzled her cheek and dipped to her neck, then broke her gentle hold and trailed kisses down her chest, between her breasts, over her belly button, and lower.

The light brush of his warm breath tickled her inner thighs as he dropped damp kisses all the way down to her knees. Then he swung around with that animal grace and knelt between her legs, staring at the flesh between with open hunger.

Skye shivered with anticipation, a smile tugging at her mouth. “What are you doing?”

He met her gaze with a look that was positively sinful. “Enjoying the view.” With his hands, he pushed her knees apart until she was fully open to his sight. He reached for her with both hands, his fingers sliding over tender flesh, plucking and tugging until her body wept with need. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

She expected him to cover her and slide himself inside her. Instead, he slid his hands beneath her hips and lifted her. “Paenther, what…?”

“Hook your legs over my shoulders, Beauty.”

“Why?”

The look he gave her was pure cat. “So I can pleasure you. So I can pleasure us both.”

Her cheeks flamed, but she did as he asked, ready to trust him with anything. Even this. As she wrapped her legs over his shoulders, he pulled her hips up and closed his mouth over the very core of her.

The intensity of the pleasure made her cry out.

He lifted his head an inch, spearing her with his dark gaze. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

His tongue stroked her, sliding inside her, then out again until she was writhing against his mouth, crying for release. Her hands gripped the sheets as she held on against the building tempest. His lips closed over the sensitive heart of her, the place he’d helped her discover with her fingers that night after Birik beat her, and she did cry out. The pleasure was almost too sharp. Almost.

He sucked that small bit of flesh into his mouth and teased it with his tongue over and over, driving and coiling the tension in her body until she shattered on a cry of pleasure, her body pulsing and throbbing, desperate to be filled.

As Paenther lowered her back to the bed, she held out her arms to him, her hips rocking with unabated need. For him. Only for him. “Come inside me, Paenther. Please. I need you inside me.”

He didn’t disappoint her. He slid into her arms and entered her body, his thickness filling her
with a delicious stretching pressure. She pulsed around him, thrusting her hips to drive him deeper, needing to be one with this man.

He held himself up on his forearms, capturing her mouth in a drugging kiss as he drove into her, over and over, filling her again and again with a beauty and a warmth. A completeness of body and spirit.

The pressure built inside her, coiling tighter, deeper, until finally the tension released on an explosion of such strength, such richness, it was as if she’d never come before. As her body clenched over and over, Paenther thrust into her hard two, three times more, then on a hard groan of completion, dropped his head to her shoulder.

Tender feelings nearly overwhelmed her as she wrapped her arms around him and stroked his damp back.

If only we could stay like this. Forever.

Finally, Paenther pulled out of her and stood up, scooping her into his arms, startling a smile out of her.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a shower. Then I’m finding you something to eat. You need flesh on these bones, woman.”

He carried her to the bathroom at the back of his room and turned on the water but didn’t step in.

She lifted her head from his shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”

“The water to warm up.”

“A warm shower,” she murmured with plea
sure. “The water in my room in the cavern never ran anything but cold.”

He kissed her temple. “No more cold, Skye. I’ll keep you warm.” Finally, he stepped into the shower with her, gently lowering her to her feet beneath the warm spray. But as he turned to get the soap, she slid her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his back, overwhelmed by the force of her emotions.

Tears began to run freely, mingling with the water from the shower. No one had ever cared for her like this before.

She’d fallen in love with him. But he could never be hers. They had no future because they belonged to two different worlds.

No, that wasn’t completely true. He belonged to the world of the Ferals.

And she belonged nowhere.