Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 2) (15 page)

The words echoed through the chambers of his mind in a bid to calm the ravaging fire tearing through his veins.

Damn it. At this rate, he'd struggle to last more than a minute.

He had always felt an urgent need to rush, to race towards the only moment when he felt completely free, to experience the intense euphoria that accompanied his release.

For the first time in his life, he would need to relinquish control, and he stepped back from her, felt the loss of her warm hands instantly.

"Grace … I want you more than I have ever wanted anything." He sounded nothing like himself. He was panting, struggling with his words, could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears. "But I do not want to rush you."

A smile played at the corners of her mouth. "I've decided to do things differently. I've decided to kiss you first and hit you later."

Her blue eyes were softer, revealing the depth of her desire.

"I need you to set the pace," he said. "Do what you will with me, without fear."

Panic flashed in her eyes. "I'm not good at this." She waved her hand back and forth between them. "I won't know how to please you."

They stood there like virgins on their wedding night: fully clothed, shaking, neither one knowing what the hell to do next. As the gentleman, he would have to do something.

"Trust me," he said pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor. "Anything you do to me will be more than pleasing."

His words seemed to give her confidence, but her gaze drifted down his chest, past the faint red marks that were still healing, to the branding mark of the Devil.

"What's that?" she said reaching out to run her fingers around the circle of barbed twine. "Is it a holy symbol?"

He almost laughed out loud. She was referring to the cross in the centre, of course. "It is a branding mark. I shall tell you more about it later, but for now, can we focus on the removal of your garments."

His distraction technique worked, and her eyes widened in response. "What? All of them?"

"Of course. Grace, I want to bathe in the splendour of your naked body. I want to feel the warmth of your skin pressed against mine."

"Oh."

Perhaps Henry Denton preferred to take her under the coverlet, with her dressed in a thick cotton nightgown.

Damn. He did not want to think about her in bed with another man. "I suggest you kiss me now then we will work towards the goal of freeing us both of all restrictions."

The corners of her mouth crept up into a sinful smile. "I think I have mastered the kissing part. It's up to you to help me master the rest." She stepped towards him, her hands coming to rest on his chest.

"Show me what you've mastered," he said, his cock pulsating against the fabric of his trousers.

She pressed her lips against his, softly at first. As her hands moved up to caress the muscles in his shoulders and neck, a seductive sigh breezed across his mouth.

"Close your eyes," she whispered, and he obliged. "I want you to show me how to worship your body, Elliot." The words drifted over his neck, the fine hairs at his nape tingling in response.

The anticipation was like nothing he had felt before.

Every part of him ached for her.

Every part of him shook with a need he could not define.

"I'll show you everything," he replied. As his lips formed the last word, she covered them with her own, her tongue penetrating his mouth so sweetly.

That's when it hit him.

With Grace, everything felt different.

With Grace, everything felt wonderful and new.

Chapter 13

Despite charging to the door in anger and telling herself she didn't need Elliot Markham in her life, Grace kissed him as though his mouth provided everything she needed to breathe, to exist.

This addiction she had for him, for his taste, his smell, for the deep groans resonating from the back of his throat, it controlled her thoughts and actions.

She tried to suppress it.

Nothing good could come of it. Not in the long term. But the part of her that wanted to experience real pleasure, the part that wanted to find a way to forget Henry Denton, that part would take this wonderful man as her lover regardless of the consequences.

Even the fear she'd once felt clawing away inside had been trampled down by her overwhelming need for him.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact she felt in control. Elliot did not dominate her, mistreat or abuse her.

The thought caused a rush of emotion to flood her chest, and she deepened the kiss in response, pressing her body closer to his in the process. Up until now, he had played a secondary role in this melding of mouths. But as her eager hands scrambled over the hard muscles in his arms and back in a bid to ease the ache deep in her core, he responded by swinging her around and fiddling frantically with the buttons on the back of her dress.

"I can't touch you with all of these layers," he complained, and he did not see the smile that touched her lips.

"Can you manage?"

He gave an arrogant snort as his hands brushed the sleeves from her shoulders and the material sank to the floor with ease. He clasped her elbow as she stepped out of the fabric pool.

"I'll leave the rest for a minute," he said pulling her into an embrace and he bent his knees as he claimed her mouth, letting his hands ride up underneath her petticoat and chemise.

The light touch of his fingers gliding over her bare legs caused a bolt of desire to shoot through her body, and the throbbing sensation between her thighs cried out for his touch.

"Let me ease your suffering," he whispered against her mouth as if he could read her thoughts, interpret her movements and before she could catch her breath his hot palms moulded around her buttocks. "Tell me," he continued, nuzzling her neck. "Do you flail and cry out in your release or do you pant and moan?"

His lips left a molten trail in their wake, and she swallowed before finding the breath to speak. "My … my release?" she asked with some confusion as her head fell back and another wave of pleasure pulsed through her. "I do-don't know what you mean."

He stopped suddenly and searched her face. A sinful grin formed. "You don't know what I mean?" He seemed pleased with her answer. "Oh, then you are in for a real treat."

Without another word he went to work on the hook and eye clasps, on the ties of her stays, removing her plain linen chemise until she stood before him, naked and exposed.

He stepped back and surveyed her form as though she were an exhibit of fine art. When he clasped his hand over his mouth, she feared there was something wrong. Henry had refused to look upon her like this, and she had a sudden urge to clutch her clothing to her chest and hang her head in shame.

"Wh-what's wrong?" she found the courage to say, moving her arms to cover her breasts.

"Wrong? Why would you think there's anything wrong?" He took her hands in his and held them out wide as his hungry eyes devoured every inch of her. "You're perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect in every way. And your breasts, well, the word spectacular springs to mind."

Her cheeks burned. She found she admired him a little more for the compliment.

If only she'd met him a year ago.

"Come," he said taking her hand and guiding her towards the bed. "There is something we must rectify before we can continue."

Curiosity burned away inside. "Now I'm intrigued," she said, her husky tone revealing her desire.

Elliot touched his lips to hers, pulled her to his hard body and moved so her breasts rubbed against the dusting of hair on his chest. The muscles deep in her core pulsed again. As their tongues became lost in each other's mouths, he lowered her down to the bed.

He came down on top of her and the slightest frisson of fear resurfaced. What if she felt squashed? What if she felt as though all the air was being squeezed from her lungs? Panic would set in. She would be plagued by nightmares of Henry.

She pushed at his chest, and he raised himself up on his arms. "Your trousers," she said by way of a distraction, just to give her a moment to catch her breath. "You need to remove them."

"In a moment. I won't hurt you, Grace. I'm about to show you how much I want you." He cast her a wicked smile, and her heart melted; all negative thoughts subsided.

Perhaps he sensed her fear; perhaps he could hear her thoughts.

Plundering her mouth with a swift but wildly erotic kiss, he moved to rain featherlight kisses down her neck, moving lower still.

Her heart thumped loudly in her chest when he took her nipple into his mouth, teasing it to peak. The fluttering sensation travelled all the way down to her toes. Grace threw her head back and closed her eyes to stave off her embarrassment.

But then he moved lower still, his tongue dipping into and circling her navel as he hooked his arms under her knees and bent her legs.

She was exposed to him now, laid open and bare. "Elliot, don't look. I … I can't …"

"Hush," he whispered. "Trust me."

When his mouth moved against her most intimate place, she gasped for breath, clutched at the coverlet. But he continued to torment her, sucking, licking and kissing, the tip of his tongue penetrating her entrance.

She should have felt shame. She should have tried to stop him.

But it felt so wonderful, so utterly divine.

Elliot lavished her with attention until her breathing grew raspy, until her mind grew foggy and she struggled to rouse a coherent thought. Her body tingled in response, the muscles in her core tightening and she reached down, grabbed his hair and rubbed brazenly against his mouth.

She heard a distant hum. Whether it came from his throat or hers, she didn't know, and she could feel herself being drawn towards a magical abyss.

It came upon her swiftly. The waves of intense pleasure rushed through her entire body. She writhed and moaned against him, called his name. The muscles in her core spasmed, clamped down around his tongue as he thrust it inside her shamelessly.

"
Elliot. Oh, I … I …
"

Her legs shook. She arched her back, surrendered to the strange yet glorious sensation rippling through her, lifting her from the bed and carrying her away to a heavenly place.

Feeling giddy and a little disorientated, she lay there until she found the courage to open her eyes.

Elliot raised his head, an arrogant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Now I'll remove my trousers."

Unbuttoning and sliding out of them with speed and efficiency he threw them to the floor, and she gasped again at the sight of his jutting erection.

If she told him she'd never seen a man naked before he would think it absurd. But as she stared and marvelled in wonder, she knew he could see the truth of it.

"Touch me," he said, coming to lie at her side. "Let me feel your soft hand wrapped around me."

Grace swallowed as nerves tried to push to the fore. But she was still soaring on the dizzying heights of her release. With trembling fingers she reached out and touched him, growing instantly aroused by the sheer strength and power emanating from within. His skin felt smooth, like a veil of silk shrouding a rod of solid iron and his growl of appreciation gave her the courage she needed.

As he lay back on the bed, she rolled onto her side and studied his reactions to try to find the right rhythm. She stroked him, pulling the skin taut to expose the glistening head. Grace wondered what it would be like to take him in her mouth, and her mind became distracted imagining the taste and sensation.

"Next time," he panted as he covered her hand. "I want you now, Grace."

As she rolled onto her back and his magnificent, sculptured body covered hers, she prepared herself to feel the heavy weight of him pressing her down into the mattress. But his mouth settled on her nipple, lavished them both with equal attention until she was writhing beneath him once more.

Lost in rapturous ecstasy, she'd not noticed him shift position, not until he pushed slowly inside her.

In one long fluid movement, he stretched her, filled her deep, and she grasped his firm buttocks and revelled in the slow grinding movements that sent bolts of pleasure shooting to her core. Elliot quickened the pace, thrust hard as he angled his hips. The motion brought with it the tightening feeling in her abdomen. Only now, she could feel it in every part of her body. Now the muscles clamped around him, squeezing and pulsating, drawing him deeper.

"
Elliot
."

They were panting, groaning, gasping for breath. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, anchoring him to her. Not wanting to let him go. Sweat trickled down his back. She dug her fingers into the muscled planes, pressed her body close to his as she knew he would soon withdraw.

"Grace … I … holy hell."

He slowed his pace and closed his eyes, his face revealing the pleasure he gleaned from the last few strokes. When he collapsed on top of her, breathless and exhausted, she didn't feel squashed or overwhelmed. She felt happy. Yet her mind soon became occupied with a whole host of thoughts and feelings.