Fallen Death (The Trihune Series Book 3) (16 page)

Chapter 30

FIVE DAYS LEFT

Sarid opened his eyes to find his head on Asjhone’s pillow and his face buried in her neck. His hand had moved from her stomach to her . . . breast. He sucked in a breath and jerked his arm into the air. Was she awake? Had she noticed? Maybe not, but she could probably feel his dick, rock hard behind his zipper, pressed tight against her ass.

Holy Creator, had he humped her in his sleep like a dog on its owner’s leg? He moved onto his back, eyes on the ceiling. His arm was still high in the air and he lowered it to his chest.

She rolled over and he froze. When she didn’t speak he turned his head. Maybe she was still slee— No. Her eyes were open. Head resting on her palms. Expression. . . unreadable. He jerked his gaze back to the ceiling.

“Sorry,” he croaked then cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to.” He waved his hand. Three centuries ago, he’d more than likely lose it as punishment.

“Well, that’s sad,” she said quietly.

He stilled, tried to figure out her meaning, couldn’t. “What is?”

“You didn’t mean to.”

His breath caught on an inhale that rushed out when her finger stroked his cheek.

“Did you like touching me?” She was still whispering.

He licked his dry lips, and spoke to the ceiling, “Yes.”

Silence. “Have you ever—”

“No.”

Another pause. She exhaled. Her breath flitted across his cheek. “Do you want to?”

His gaze whipped to her. Heart picked up speed. He licked his lips again. Her eyes lowered to his mouth then rose slowly back up. “I . . . I . . .” He shook his head. “It isn’t a good . . . I’m not sure if . . .” He stopped trying to find the words when she sat up. Before he could stop her—though, would he have?—she took hold of the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head.

His breath stilled in his lungs. No inhale. No exhale.

She wore nothing underneath her shirt.

His lips parted and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her breasts. They were the size of melons, the area surrounding her nipple darker in color than her skin. Her nipples began to pebble.

Oxygen finally returned and he sucked in a breath, feeling dizzy. “Are you cold?” he asked her chest.

A low chuckle had them bouncing slightly and the pressure in his balls tightened considerably. Shit. Any more of that and he’d explode in his pants. His gaze lifted, but he only made it to her lips before she spoke. “Take my hand.”

Without hesitation he slid his palm into hers, but stiffened when he realized her intent.

She hesitated. “Sarid, I want you to touch me, but only if you want the same.”

He did. He wanted the same. But words escaped him. He worked his tongue around his mouth to get moisture back. Swallowed thickly. Opened his mouth and nothing.

“Do you want to?”

Yes!

First, demon check.

No sounds or comments. It was still sleeping.

So, it should be all right. Perhaps no different than touching her face or back.

He cleared his throat. “Yes.” She laid his hand on her sternum. The sides of her soft full breasts brushed against his hand. The oxygen levels in the room suddenly seemed to have decreased.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said.

His hand wouldn’t move. This was nothing like her face or cheek. The demon wasn’t the cause of this hesitation, not really.

Years of ignoring his base needs had left Sarid . . . damaged. With a loud exhale, he dropped his hand.

Before it could fall to the bed, she grabbed it, held tight. “Kiss me?”

That he could manage. Slow, soft pecks at first. When his hunger grew, he sucked her lower lip into his mouth. She gasped and he took the opportunity to delve his tongue inside. She dropped his hand, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing closer. Her hardened nipples glided across his bare chest and he jerked.

“I want your hands on me, Sarid.” She laid soft kisses across his face. “Please.”

He stroked her waist, then her mid-back, up and around to the sides of her breasts, to the soft skin underneath. Time slowed, each second focused on the movement of his hands. The feel of the woman in his arms.

His thumbs grazed her nipples. She inhaled sharply. He pulled back.

Her lips, plump and swollen, were slightly parted. Lids lowered halfway. Cheeks pink.

“Do you like that?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. More,” she breathed.

It was easier concentrating on her expression. Learning what she liked by the way air escaped quicker from her mouth. And when her chest began to rise and fall rapidly after finding a caress she really enjoyed, he’d do it over and over again.

Eventually his hands roamed. Waist, back, arms, shoulders, neck, but always back to her breasts. He loved the way her nipples grazed against the pads of his fingers and palms.

When he learned all he could with his hands, he used his mouth. Kissing, nipping, licking, sucking. Then, his hands and his mouth.

At some point she laid back on the bed. Her body was heaven. Her moans a chorus. He never wanted to leave.

He was in the middle of marveling over the weight of her breasts, gently squeezing one, then the other, when she placed her hands on top of his and twisted her head to the side, breaking free from his mouth. Undeterred, he kissed his way to her ear.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she said breathlessly.

He paused. Examined her reaction. Determined she meant it as a good thing and continued his assault. Mouth at the lobe of her ear, he nipped the tender flesh before making his way down her neck. Soft, gentle bites that he’d then kiss and lick better.

Her moan was low, and she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. She still hadn’t released his hands, so he wiggled his fingers across her tight buds.

“I think we should stop.”

He lifted his head.

She sucked in a breath. “Sorry, it’s just, you were kind of driving me crazy and I—”

“Tell me how to do it better then.”

“God, Sarid, you don’t need me to tell you how to do it better. Do it any better and I’m going to—” She bit her lip.

He may have abstained from sex over the centuries, abstained from any sort of contact with a female, but he wasn’t a monk. Living with three other males, who regularly sought the company of
nheqebas
, he knew some things. The rest he had a good imagination. “I think I’d like to see you come.” Actually he didn’t have to think on it at all. Yes. Yes, he did want to see her break apart in front of his eyes. And he’d like it very much if he were the one to accomplish it.

Need had turned her dark chocolate brown eyes liquid. “I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable.”

He ignored the way his cock strained against the front of his pants, the pain almost reaching blood ceremony level. His eyes lowered to her breasts. Her nipples were still hard. He wanted to touch them again. Now. With his mouth. “You’re not.”

She hesitated. Fisted the crumpled sheet on her bed. “Are you sure, because I—”

Sarid placed his mouth over one hard bud, sucked hard.

“Oh, Jesus.” She cupped the back of his head, fingers digging into his scalp as if afraid he’d leave. If his mouth wasn’t full, he’d tell her she worried in vain. He kissed his way to the other breast. Had to see if it tasted the same. Something might’ve changed in the last few moments.

His Asjhone didn’t stay still. Her legs rubbed back and forth. Back arched off the bed. Her own hands moved over his back, shoulders, arms.

She clutched his head, dragged him up. As their tongues explored each other with renewed vigor, she pulled him down on top of her.

The groan leaving her mouth said he wasn’t too heavy for her. Her legs wrapped his waist and she moved against him, sliding against the hard ridge behind his zipper. Her moans grew with each flawless movement.

Shudders of pleasure and pain tore through him. His balls tightened. He broke off, pressed his forehead into the pillow next to her head. Squeezed his eyes shut. Tightened his muscles, forcing his body into lockdown.

Asjhone froze. She dropped her legs to the bed. Unwrapped her arms from his back. “Sarid. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean, I shouldn’t have.” She pushed against his chest, tried to get out from underneath him.

“Wait,” he said hoarsely. “Give me a second.”

She stilled. The only sound in the room was her unsteady breaths.

As a boy he had plenty of time to dream and wish for things to be different, but he learned early that those two had no place in his life. So he ceased hoping and started accepting. After the demon was shoved into his body, it brought the point further home.

But right this moment, with Asjhone underneath him—wanting his touch and his company, her scent so thick it was all he could smell, and his dick so hard and ready to burst—he was right back to being that little boy, who believed if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough, things might just change when he opened them.

Face still buried in Asjhone’s pillow, he didn’t know which he should wish for—things to be different or for he to be different.

Her touch on his back was hesitant. “Sarid, sit up. Let me get dressed. I can make pancakes. Would you like that?”

No. He didn’t fucking want pancakes, dammit. He wanted to be a different person. He wanted to be man enough to take Asjhone to where she wanted to go. To strip off her clothes and continue his exploration of her body, make her come, make her scream his name as he brought her to pleasure. That’s what he wanted.

So why couldn’t he?

He rose onto his hands, gazed at the angel that had come into his life the moment he decided it wasn’t worth anything anymore.

So, why couldn’t he? He could bring her pleasure and still keep his control.

She cupped his cheek. “It’s okay.”

He kissed the inside of her palm. “I don’t want pancakes.”

Lines appeared between her eyes. “Waffles, then?”

He smiled, shook his head. “I’m not hungry . . . for food.” Emotions played over her face as she tried to figure out what he meant. He recognized the moment she did. Her eyes widened, goose bumps broke out over her skin.

“You don’t have to.” Her voice was quiet and trembled at the end.

“I know.”

“What’s changed from last night?”

“I have.”

Her lips pursed and she seemed to expect more of an answer, but he had nothing else. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. I want to pleasure you.”

The lines were back between her eyes. “Pleasure
me
? But nothing for you?” Her gaze lowered.

His cock twitched, liking the attention. He slammed his eyes closed, which did nothing to stop the images in his head. Of him. With Asjhone.

And the demon.

Panic rose again. “Just you,” he blurted, eyes flashing open to focus on her. To live in the moment and not in his fears. Or in his offending appendage’s desires. “Right now, just you.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Yes.”

“Okay.” But he didn’t move. Doubts rose. He frowned. “I don’t know, I’ve never—”

Asjhone placed a finger against his lips. “Let me up.”

He sat back on his heels. She scooted off the bed. His eyes zeroed in on her bare chest. Beautiful. Then his gaze shot to her hands, gripping the top of her pants.

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

His eyes met hers briefly, before bouncing back down. “Never been surer. I won’t change my mind.”

She let go of her pants. He almost groaned. “I’m not worried about that.” When he gave her his full attention she continued. “Anytime you want to stop, you stop, Sarid. There’s never a point of no return here.”

“Okay.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe we should talk.”

He wished he could will the rest of her clothes away. “No talking.”

“But maybe if you told me what’s going on inside that head of yours, why you can’t . . .” Pause. “Were you abused?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” What would she do if he reached out and pulled down her pants?

“But you
were
abused?”

The anguish in that whispered question jerked his head up. Shit. He should’ve worded that differently.

Tears filled her eyes as she glanced at his cheeks.

“No. No. Don’t do that. Please. My childhood wasn’t perfect. I didn’t have a mother as wonderful as you.” He smiled, tried to ease the tension. It didn’t work. Her concern only grew. “I wasn’t sexually abused, but what happened in my past is part of the reason why I hesitate now. Why I’ve never been further with anyone else. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to take things further with you. I do. Very much so. But . . . I can’t.” He rushed forward when she started to speak. “As I lie next to you, little by little I’m healed. You give me strength. Make me believe I can keep control even as I lose it. I still worry, though. And I don’t want to bring that into this bed.

“For now, I’ll focus on you. Bring you pleasure.” He paused. “So, please.” He skimmed his fingers across her low belly, across the top of her pants. “Will you take these off?”

“I still don’t understand,” she said quietly after a moment.

“I know, angel.” He exhaled. Dropped his hand. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should go have waffles.”

“But I don’t want waffles, either.” A tear slipped down her cheek. He caught it.