“You can learn to control it, Jenna,” he said roughly, moving his lips
against hers. He pressed his body hard against her so she felt the heat of him
scorch straight through her clothing, burning her chest and abdomen and thighs.
Her body arched against the wall, flexed hard against him, aching and wanting
and full of need. Her hands made fists and she wasn’t sure if she meant to hit
him or if it was to keep from pulling him harder against her.
“Try to control it,” he said, fierce and adamant.
He flicked the tip of his tongue out to stroke over her lower lip and
she was flooded straight through with crystal clear pictures of herself in
passionate surrender, pictures snatched straight from his mind.
Feel me, Jenna.
Lie back, let me taste you.
Tell me what you want. Do you like
this? And this?
Say my name, whispered hot
into her ear as he thrust deep inside her and she shuddered and climaxed
beneath him. Say it and belong to me.
“Leander,” she whispered, just as her knees gave out.
He caught her up in his arms as she fell, as easily as if she weighed
next to nothing, and swung her around. He carried her over to the bed and
gently laid her on it, then settled himself on the down coverlet next to her in
one fluid motion, warm and masculine and solid against her side. One finger
brushed a lock of stray hair from her eyes, leaving a trail of images burning
vividly over her skin, and though it was crazy and wrong and impossible, his
body beside hers felt so right.
“Just focus on your breathing,” he said, his voice stroking and soft. “I
swear you’re safe with me, Jenna—I won’t cause you any harm. Nothing will ever
cause you harm again.”
He nuzzled his nose next to her throat and breathed in, a deep
inhalation that sprouted goose bumps all over her skin. “I only want to protect
you,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, “to keep you safe. Trust me,
Jenna. Trust me. Let me take care of you.”
That was his hand at the small of her back, fingers spread, pressing her
body closer to his. That was her knee drawing up to allow the weight of his
muscled leg to fit between hers, the hem of her dress slipping up, leaving her
bare thigh exposed. Those were her fingers digging deep into the soft down
coverlet as his lips moved over her collarbone, as he murmured words in a
flowing language she didn’t understand. That was her hand stealing up to glide
over his arm, his shoulder, touching the warm skin of his neck, sliding into
his hair…
“Leander,” she protested, her voice caught between a whisper and a
groan, already beginning to surrender herself to the flush of hot pleasure his
hands brought, his lips brought. Her physical reaction to him was overwhelming:
instinctual, pure and primal. Another few seconds and her body would take
control of the decision making. “Please, I can’t think—”
But he cut her off with a kiss, deep and hot, and rolled half over her
body so she was melting down into the soft, welcoming luxury of the mattress.
He pulled back, panting. “Don’t think,” he said, husky. “Just feel.”
And then he kissed her again and she couldn’t help herself—she kissed
him back.
Leander made a sound deep in his throat, a rumbling low growl, like an
animal’s. He put his mouth against her ear and rasped out six words that made
her heart clench into a fist.
“I want to be inside you.”
He slid his open palm down her bare thigh,
curled his fingers over her hip, and rocked his pelvis against hers. She felt
the length of his arousal, hard and insistent, and desire slammed into
her with so much force she moaned. A hot, eager lust that demanded
satisfaction swelled up in her and began to rage and burn.
He caught her wrist in one strong hand and lifted it over her head,
pressing it down, captive, against the pillow. He lowered his head against the
column of her neck and fastened his lips against her skin, licking, sucking,
making her arch against him.
Then he bit her.
It wasn’t hard, nothing that would break the skin or leave a mark, but a
native, untapped burst of energy flashed to life inside her under the fleeting
sting of his bite. A blinding white current of feral awareness shot through her
muscles and blood and nerves as if she were a pile of dry leaves touched by a
torch and doused with accelerant…
…As if an animal sleeping just under her skin had awoken to barbarous,
savage joy.
Jenna opened her eyes and stared hard at the ceiling, and
felt something dark within her gather into storm.
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