Jace (22 page)

“I remember.”

He unbuttoned the shimmery concoction that kept her breasts from him. “I intended for you to be fully debauched come morning.”

Her eyes opened. Her smile bloomed. That gorgeous smile that stole his soul the first time he saw it. “I was.”

He spread the material, exposing the sweet curves of her chest. “When I claimed you then, it was a forever thing for me.”

He slipped his hand beneath, watching her expression for fear. There wasn’t any.

She arched her breast into his palm, filling his hand with the promise she’d given him that first night. “I know.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought ‘forever’ for me was as long as I desired you, but I was willing to work with that, sweet-talk you around to believing in me.”

“But then you had to leave.”

“Temporarily. But to you that meant it was over. You thought I’d left. I’m sorry I didn’t understand that.” A brush of his lips over the ledge of her cheekbones. “Very sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Good.”

“Jace?”

“What?”

“What’s different about now?”

“Ah, now.” He plumped her breast in his hand, admiring the generous soft mound it made beneath the silky nightgown, the way the darker tip made the smallest of tentings. It would take very little effort to dip his head and take that soft peak in his mouth, lave it with his tongue, nip it to that delicate hardness in the way that always made her moan in bliss.

He had to focus on what he wanted to say to get the words out. “Now you know there was never any danger at all. Now you know what kind of man I am, what kind of lover I am. You know I’m the sticking kind. And I’m safe.”

She blinked. “Safe?”

Her skepticism did wonders for his ego.

“Absolutely.”

She shifted and the gown pulled taut.

“Where’d you get this sexy little gown?”

“Allie.” She twisted under him, watching as his thumb passed over the tip. He’d forgotten how she liked to watch. The gap in his memory bothered him. What else had he forgotten? The neckline slid to the side, exposing her breast with its peach-colored tip. The nipple was semi hard, demanding his attention.

He leaned in. “I’ll have to thank her.”

Her head snapped up so fast, she almost cracked his jaw. “Don’t you dare!”

He chuckled as she flopped back onto the mattress. “I’m pretty sure she knew what would happen when you wore it.”

“I don’t care. Promise me you won’t say anything.”

Since he didn’t want her distracted by the worry, he promised.

Another twist exposed more buttery-smooth skin. Her breast shimmied; he accepted the invitation, bending his head, taking that sweet tip into his mouth. Her taste spread across his tongue. Soap and Miri. He closed his eyes, imprinting it anew into his senses, letting it sink to his center in a long-awaited flow of remembered pleasure. He’d been so long without her. Needed her so badly. “I love the way you taste.”

She arched her energy, weaving through his in an erotic temptation.

Jace.

Only Miri said his name like that, as if heaven was in his hands and she only waited for him to give it to her. He shifted up to see her face. Her eyes were filled with tears. “Hey, sweet talk isn’t supposed to make you cry.”

She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand and sniffed. “I think you’re out of luck.”

He stood, bringing her with him. Her legs went instinctively around his waist. He turned, sitting on the mattress. Letting her support herself with her arms around his neck while he stroked the damp trails on her cheeks. “Because that was too corny?”

She shook her head. Her hair swished across his thighs. He took a handful and draped it over his shoulders, binding them together, following the path back until he could curl his fingers around her nape.

“Because I blinked and you didn’t go away. You’re real.”

He felt the same way. The joy that she was here, the lingering panic that it was just another dream he’d wake up from, her name an echo of desperate hope in his head. He tilted her face to the side with a press of his thumb, skimming his lips over her cheek to the sweet spot behind her ear, the one that if he kissed it just right would send goose bumps up and down her arms. “Very real. Want me to show you how much?”

She canted her head away, providing him with easier access. “Yes.”

He was happy to oblige. Following the desire that moved hot and rich through his blood, he touched the spot with his tongue, her pleasure his as she shivered. He smiled against her skin. “It’s nice to know some things don’t change.”

Her hands cupped his head, holding him to her, offering herself to him. “Yes, it is.”

The passion he’d been fighting roared forward, ripping apart his control, wrecking havoc with his good intentions. He took a steadying breath. “Princess, saying things like that to me right now is hell on my control.”

Her tongue touched the corner of his mouth. Lightning bolts of sensation arced outward, shooting down his spine before gathering at the base in a hot aching urgency. “So who wants you controlled?”

“You do, because I want you too much to play games,” he rasped out.

“Who’s asking you to play games?”

“I’ve been a long time hungry and a long time hurting.”

He turned his head so the softness of her lips matched the firmness of his, so her breath blended with his, so her energy melded with his. “And the one thing I won’t ever be is the next thing that hurts you.”

“You can’t. Not you.”

She stroked her tongue over his. He shuddered, unable to control his response. He wanted that hot little tongue lapping all over his body. “I could lose my head, take you too roughly.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, scooting up on her knees before pushing backward. “There’s only one way to find out.”

He took her weight gladly, thrusting up when she pressed down, anchoring her with his hands on her hips. “I was thinking along the lines of talking about it.”

“You said, if I wasn’t ready, we’d work around it.”

“I did say that. Do we need a work-around?”

She stretched her torso along his, took his earlobe between her teeth, and nipped. “Yes.”

His grip spasmed on her hips. She laughed at the loss of control, the soft expulsions fanning the fire racing across his skin.

“What do you suggest?” he asked when he could find his voice.

“I was hoping you’d make love to me.”

He rolled them so she was beneath him. A bit too quickly, if her momentary disorientation was anything to go by.

He smiled down at her. “Were you, now?”

Her palms flattened on his chest, her thumbs going to his nipples.

“I was thinking on it.”

Her gaze held his as she flicked them with her nails. His breath hissed in as his cock jerked in his pants. He studied her as she lay beneath him, the fine arch of her brows above the warm golden-brown of her eyes, the elegant line of her nose above the lush perfection of her lips, and that stubborn chin. He traced the lines of her cheekbones, enjoying the smoothness of her skin, so enhanced by the peaches and cream of her complexion. For him, there was nothing more perfect than the way her features came together in a boldly feminine way that combined incredible strength with incredible vulnerability. She was so damn beautiful.

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss into her palm. He met her gaze. “Hold that thought.”

Her tongue ran over her lips. “What if I don’t want to?”

“You don’t have a choice.” He could feel the pain building inside her again, could feel the weakness in her caused by the imbalance of a mating not completed. “There is something we need to do first.”

“What’s that?”

He sliced his nail across his chest. Blood flowed, the scent rising between them. Her nostrils flared. So did her hunger. “You need to feed.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

She was far from fine. He captured a drop of blood on his fingertip and smeared it across her lips. “I can’t watch you suffer anymore, princess.” It was the closest he could come to an apology. Her pupils flared as the taste crept between the seal of her lips. “Besides, we have a long night ahead of us.” His gaze wandered to her breasts, with their hard nipples and creamy softness. “And you’re going to need to be at full strength if you plan on keeping up.”

A
long night.

Identical words she’d heard in the past. The scary, dark memories buried within the syllables clawed their way out, battering at her control. She took a breath, held it for the count of three, and then let it out. This was Jace above her—strong, indomitable Jace with the laughing eyes, the quick temper, and the incredible touch. Jace, who inspired the hunger in her. A natural hunger, not the perverted imitation the Sanctuary had tried to manufacture in the hope it would help her to conceive.

His hand behind her head brought her face to his chest. “You have to feed, Miri. You need to be strong.”

She took a breath, letting his scent sink deep. She wouldn’t let the memories rob her of him. Meeting his gaze, she gave him the smile—the one from so long ago, the one she’d practiced in the mirror when she would dream about a suitor who would one day bond with her. The smile she’d perfected to the point that it was sultry, hot, and biting. Guaranteed to blow his socks off.

Her reward was a blink of his gorgeous eyes, and then a slow smile.

“You have a snack, baby, and I’ll take you up on that invitation.” The tightening of his hold coincided with the lowering of his head. She couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were hazel, then blue, and then lit with fires that danced in patterns that intrigued. The brush of his lips was petal soft, the parting an open invitation to the passion beyond. She wanted that passion, wanted the secrets she read in his eyes, that she felt inside herself. She took his kiss, as he took her control, in slow increments, letting the surprise of it unravel in a slow, lazy persuasion. The familiar subtle adjustment of his fingers directed her mouth downward, over the column of his throat, across the ridge of his collarbone, and over the smooth flex of his muscle, replacing the taste of his kiss with the potent spice of his blood. Enthralled, she followed the mental lure, succumbing to the urge to drink, moaning aloud as her cells exploded with bliss as the life-giving fluid slid over her tongue.

Jace’s fingers stroked down her breast, readying her for his touch, making her wait for it until the anticipation had her moaning, his laugh breezing by her ear as she opened to him, mind, body, and soul, taking his passion as hers, giving her passion to him, weaving them together with desire. His name echoed in her mind, tumbled from her lips. “Jace.”

“Right here.”

“I need you,” she whispered against his chest, her blood hunger abating to be replaced by another. His fingers encompassed her breast, plumping it to his touch. His thumb flicked over the tip in a tiny culmination. She gasped against his chest, hot, breathless energy surging within her, searching for an outlet. “I need you.”

Jace pulled her up into the power of his kiss. “You’re not ready.”

“I don’t care.” Miri watched helplessly as he sealed the wound on his chest. She licked her lips where his taste lingered. “I just want you.”

“You’ll have me. Every inch of me.” He milked more pleasure from her breast, more burn to her flesh, more need to her core. “But I’m going to explore you first, reacquaint myself with all the touches in all the places that make you cry out.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and with her free hand tugged at his jeans while pressing herself up. His erection dropped against her sensitive flesh. “No.”

He pulled back, his eyes lit with flames more blue than hazel locked on her. His fangs flashed white. Her neck tingled. She wanted to feel his bite.

“No?”

She could feel him shaking, feel the film of sweat on his skin. He needed her. “This time speed,” she breathed. “Next time explorations.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

She arched her breasts up to his chest “Why not?”

He didn’t have a ready answer. She nibbled on his upper lip, raking her nails down his chest in a meandering pattern that had him arching like a jungle cat into her touch.

His answer, when it came, was couched in a growl. “Because this is you.”

She cupped his cheeks in her hands, loving the flames at the edges of the irises in his beautiful eyes, loving knowing that they burned for her, just for her. She loved that he was worried about her.

“In the last year, Jace, people have used my body in all kinds of ways, for all kinds of things, none of which I wanted.”

He kissed the inside of her wrist, heartbreak in his eyes. “Goddamn, baby.”

She didn’t want him sad.

“I don’t think I can last another minute with those memories in my head. Not now, when I could have the real thing. Please, can’t you forget, just for tonight, and make love to me the way you would if you’d come back as you’d planned, and I’d been there waiting?”

“Miri—”

She didn’t want him cautious, either.

“I always imagined it’d be quick because we’d be so hungry for each other, like a thunder and lightning storm rushing in. Wild, crazy.”

“Miri?”

“What?”

His forehead dropped to hers. Laughter shook his shoulders. “You win.”

He reached between them. There was the sound of a zipper sliding and two seconds later she felt his cock against her—hard, hot, big, and ready. “Oh, God.”

“Hold on.”

She did, grabbing his shoulders, her nails sinking into the thick muscle with the same steady pressure with which he merged their bodies. Her sheath stretched, flowered.

He paused, giving her a minute to adjust, while his eyes burned down at her, challenging her.

Did he think she wasn’t up to it?

She held his gaze, digging her heels into the mattress, pushing up, taking him in a smooth glide, gasping as the burning pleasure detonated into something more.

Jace. At last, Jace.

She kept her eyes open, locking her mind to his as desire exploded through her, crying out as the bliss took over, reaching out, reflecting back, her pleasure becoming his, his pleasure hers, binding them together in a maelstrom of satisfaction that screamed only one thing.