Firestorm (26 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Morgan

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotica, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Firestorm
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Yet he wanted that and even more, he realized. He wanted . . . wanted to share that happiness with her, to be her mate, to live out his life with her. He wanted to . . . love her.

That reluctant admission brought him nothing but pain. He wanted, yet couldn't have. Was there anything more frustrating, more tormenting? It was why he'd shut his heart and life off from others, from any deep or committed caring, after the agony of seeing his sister and parents die, his land and people wrenched from him. He'd wanted so much then, too, and had lost it anyway.

That was why he should slam the gates of his heart shut. Before he risked it all.

Yet gazing down at her as she knelt before him with eyes shining with the same trust and affection that he felt for her, Teague found he couldn't shut himself off. Not tonight at least, and perhaps, though he shied from facing it just now, not ever again.

"Yes," he softly, achingly replied "it is our mating." His grip tightened on her shoulders and he leaned toward her once more.

Raina lifted her mouth to his. She closed her eyes, ready, willing, and eagerly expectant.

Teague gazed down at her for a fleeting instant, moved by her sweetness and almost girlish enthusiasm. She truly was a maiden in all things that mattered. In all ways that truly mattered this was the first time for both of them. Then he bent the last few millimeters and kissed her, long and slow and deep.

As the seconds passed, a rising tension thrummed through Teague. The blood pounded through his heart, coursing out to heat his skin until it prickled with need. Filling his groin, until his hardening mouth was echoed throughout the length and breadth of his body. His manhood swelled. His hands began, of their own accord to explore her body.

Raina's long tunic was lifted over her head and cast aside. Soft, full breasts, shimmering like ivory in the lamplight, like the inside of a rare chamma shell, were topped by delicately pink nipples. She bowed her head at her nakedness, flushing crimson, and wrapped her arms across her chest.

"No, sweet one," Teague growled. His voice went deep and husky from the surge of desire the sight of her naked breasts stirred within him. He took her arms and ever so gently pulled them away to expose her fully to his view. "Don't hide yourself from me. You are beautiful. Let me see you. Please."

She couldn't resist the insistent strength of his hands, nor his ardently couched plea. "Look, then," she whispered letting her arms fall to her sides. "But be willing to pay the price."

"The price?" Teague reached out and ran a long, strong finger along the side of one breast, slowly, languorously bringing it around until it reached a pouting nipple. He circled it with his fingertip, decreasing the distance with each revolution until the gentle stimulation lightened the tip to a taut little bud. Raina shuddered drew in a ragged breath.

Teague's gaze lifted to hers. "Does this please you then, sweet one?"

"Y-yes," she managed to choke out the reply.

He smiled then took his other hand and subjected her other breast to the same sweetly torturing treatment. Her breasts finally too sensitive, her nipples erect and aching for what she knew not, Raina grabbed his hands to stay them. "It . . . it's your turn now," she said her voice gone hoarse. "Your turn to pay the price."

"Indeed?" Teague cocked a dark blond brow. "And do you now wish to stroke my chest as I did yours?"

His offer was indeed tempting, Raina thought, gazing at his flat, male nipples, the tattooed claws reaching down his bulging pectorals as if to sink the talons into the soft, yielding flesh. She wondered how Teague's nipples would feel at the tip of her tongue, how his skin would taste. Yet a more primal urge beckoned calling her to a bold demand.

"Yes, I wish to touch you, but first, I've a greater wish to see you naked."

He stared back at her, stunned. Then he forced an unsteady laugh. "Well, I suppose that was inevitable." His hands went to the knot of his blanket. With a few deft moves, the blanket was free and fell to his sides.

Raina glanced down, saw the huge, thick shaft straining, only millimeters away, toward her belly. A strange mixture of fear and fascination, revulsion and excitement, flooded her. Her gaze jerked up to his. "You certainly seem a bit, er, prematurely stimulated."

"Prematurely?" Teague gave a husky laugh. "I may not be overly experienced in lovemaking, but I'd wager most men would find you quite stimulating. Especially," he added, his voice dropping a notch, as he lustily eyed her breasts, "as delightfully unclothed as you are."

He meant to unsettle her, regain the upper hand, Raina thought. Well, this little game could just as well have two winners as one. "Perhaps I was unfair to taunt you so," she began. "This, er, 'state' of yours might be insignificant to how you'll become once you're truly excited." She ran a short fingernail from the light brown nest of hair covering the lower part of his abdomen up the length of his hardened, jutting shaft.

"G-gods!" Teague gasped and jerked back.

Raina arched a brow, an impish light in her eyes. "Is something wrong? Was I too rough with you? Here, let me make it up to you." She reached out once again, this time to clasp him.

He grabbed her hand before she could touch him. "You know as well as I what you meant to do," he rasped thickly. "Would you shame me by having me spew my seed here and now?"

"No," Raina said darkly, "but soon enough. Soon enough." She stood and in a few quick movements, had freed the fastening of her breeches and slipped them down her hips and legs. Stepping out of them, she extended her hand to Teague. "Come. It's cold. The pallet will be warmer."

Teague glanced up, impaling her with his ice-blue stare. Silently, he took her hand and stood. "Yes, the pallet and the sweet comfort of your body will be far warmer than anything I've ever experienced." Or will ever hope to experience again, he silently added.

When they reached the pallet, Teague knelt, swept back the blankets, then climbed in. Raina hesitated but an instant, then followed, tugging the blanket back up to cover them. They lay there in the flickering lamplight, a scant meter apart, facing each other, the blanket lying loosely about league's hips and pulled up to Raina's breasts.

Finally, Teague smiled. "I'm afraid we'll get little accomplished so far apart. Would it bother you if I moved closer, took you in my arms?"

She forced a little smile. "Better still, what if we met in the middle?"

His smile widened into a grin. "A man couldn't ask for more."

Together, they scooted toward each other. Teague slid an arm beneath her head and wrapped the other around her, drawing Raina close. Momentarily, she stiffened, then with a sigh, relaxed and laid her head upon his chest.

Teague's heart, powerful, reassuring, thudded against Raina's ear. Its solid, steady rhythm soothed her. His scent of man and rich cedra wood wafted up to her. He smelled good, felt good his skin sleek and warm. She nuzzled her cheek against his firm but resilient chest. She sighed again.

"Feeling a bit more comfortable with me, are you?" Teague's deep voice rumbled against her ear.

"Yes. How about you?"

"I like holding you very much."

Raina turned her head, her lips grazing his chest. Her head lowered to his nipple. "And do you like this as well?" she murmured her tongue flicking out to lick his soft, flat bud.

He dragged in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. "Y-yes. Please, I don't know—"

"Do you want me to continue?"

"I . . . Yes, I do."

Emboldened by his admission and the husky catch in his voice, Raina turned her fullest efforts to Teague's nipple. She laved him with long, languorous strokes, circling it over and over. Then she took him in her mouth, suckling gently at first, then harder and harder.

He began to move restlessly beneath her, his hands gripping her arms. After a time, he arched toward her, urging her to take him even more deeply, more roughly. His breath became ragged and uneven.

A fierce sense of triumph, of primitive female power, filled Raina. She moved to his other nipple, working it just as avidly until it, too, stood out from the hard swell of his chest, taut, turgid and straining.

Finally, with a shuddering effort, Teague pushed her away. "Enough," he panted. "I can't take any more." He reared up and forced her over onto her back. "Now, it's your turn," he growled, a savage light in his eyes. "Now, you'll suffer as I have."

For a fleeting instant, fear rocketed through Raina. He was so big, so much more powerful than her. He could hurt her, or force himself on her. Naked and unarmed, there would be little she could do. Teague wasn't some ordinary man. He was a warrior, expertly trained and as fit as she.

Then there wasn't any time left for fear or doubts. His long, blond hair cascading around him, he lowered his head and took one of Raina's nipples into his mouth.

Like her earlier efforts on him, the strokes of his tongue were deft, knowing, eliciting the most exquisite sensations that began at her nipples and shot down to the very core of her womanhood.

Raina writhed beneath him, whimpering soft, inarticulate sounds. Her eyes clenched shut. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his upper arms. And still he worked her, first one then the other, until both breasts tingled and ached so badly Raina could barely contain her cry of pain—and need.

"T-Teague," she breathed. "I-I—"

"Yes, sweet one," he replied lifting his head to nuzzle l he velvety cleft between her breasts, then moving upward to kiss and lave her neck. "What is it you want? Tell me, and I will give it to you . . ."

She clung to him, panting, so confused she could hardly speak. "I want ... I want . . . Ah, gods, league, all I know is, I want you!"

Her anguished admission plucked at his heart. A fierce male pride filled him. Ever so carefully, he slid up her body, dragging his passion-thickened sex along her thighs and belly. "Is this what you want, sweet one?" he asked hoarsely, taking her hand and wrapping it around his throbbing organ. "Or is it something else?"

Raina thought she'd go mad holding him in her hand so big and hard, the essence of all that was male. Her aching breasts crushed against the rock-hardness of his body. She felt on fire, trembling with a wet heat between her legs that she'd never experienced before. All she knew was that she wanted him in the most elemental of ways, as a woman joined in intimate union with a man.

"Yes," she breathed on a soft, broken sigh. "I want you . . . this . . . inside me. Please, Teague. Please!"

"Help me, then." He glanced down to where their bodies were meant to join. "Help me, for I can hardly think, much less act."

Raina smiled. She stroked his cheek in the most ineffably tender of motions. "We'll help each other, won't we, my love?"

He nodded.

She drew up her legs, spreading herself wide. "You must move there to position yourself between my legs."

Teague did as she said. "Do you know what to do next?" she then asked.

Once more he nodded, moving forward until his big shaft lay, hot and heavy, upon her belly. For a few strokes, he rubbed himself against her. Then he groaned, pulled back, and grasping himself, lowered the tip of his glans against her slick cleft. Awkwardly, he probed for the opening to her sheath. Yet even those hard little jabs excited Raina. She arched up to meet him, knowing, sensing, that he was near ... so very near.

Then Teague found her. In his passion, he thrust halfway into her before he could stop himself. Raina gasped, startled by his size and the snugness of her sheath.

"Gods, Raina," Teague groaned, "I didn't mean to hurt you." He rested his sweat-damp head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize—"

"Hush." She pressed a finger against his lips. "It's fine. Truly it is. Just wait a moment or two, until I get used ... to you." She lay there a few seconds more, then gently rocked her hips to meet him. "Now, carefully, enter me all the way."

Teague eased his organ into her. Once he was fully impaled, he sighed and gathered Raina to him. They lay there, savoring the sweet ecstasy of penetration for a time. Finally, though, Teague began to kiss her, all the while pushing his throbbing sex a bit in, then dragging it out of her.

The friction and tugging action of his big glans excited Raina. She rose to meet his thrusts. The tempo of their union increased, becoming fast and deep and hard. Raina was stunned at the heat and length and fullness of him. She rocked madly against Teague, greedy for the feel of him, for the deepest penetration. A hot, agonizing tension built within her, threatening release.

She panted. She moaned. She writhed in uncaring abandon, her hands grasping wildly at him. As he drove into her in an ever increasing frenzy, Raina felt his mouth on her nipple, felt his teeth. And it was that sweet pain, on top of everything else, that sent her over the edge.

With a keening cry, Raina arched from the pallet, her eyes clenched, her head thrown back, her slender body trembling with her release. She clawed at Teague, raking his skin, clinging to his massive shoulders, calling out his name. Crying out her love for him.

All the while Teague watched her, filled with a savage, bittersweet joy. For the first time in his life, he knew what it was truly, fully, to be a man. Knew the power, the passion, and the fulfillment. Saw the fire that had built between them finally burst into a conflagration of ardent, passionate union and release. And saw it, as well, tear down their walls and fill their empty, aching hearts with trust and joy and love.

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