More Than a Man (3 page)

Aya caught her. Strong, muscular arms banded
behind her back and he lifted her from the wall. "Noelle."

"Mmmm." She hummed the acknowledgment around
the metal hoop in her mouth. Her teeth worried the small, sweet tip
of his nipple and she rolled the bit of flesh with the tip of her
tongue, unrelenting, until he shuddered. While the tremor rippled
through him, she smiled and shifted her focus to his other
nipple.

Carrying her, he moved out of the foyer. His
unhurried strides crossed the ornament-strewn length of her living
room. "I didn't have images of you. I've wanted to see you since I
learned your name.
Noelle
."

Prompted by the urgency underscoring his
tone, she reluctantly raised her head to meet his eyes. They
glittered like just-polished greenstones, hot with desire for her.
Fear and hope and want fluttered behind her ribs, tangling
together.
Please Deity, let him work out
.

He dipped his head, sucked lightly at her
parted lips, distracted her from the desperate, silent prayer.
"Which door?" His fingertips stroked the crease of her ass through
her clothes.

She inhaled, tried to concentrate. Her house
wasn't large but it was hers, free and clear of mortgage
obligations. Past the living room, two compact bedrooms served
different purposes. She'd converted the first and smallest into a
home office. The second doubled as a workout room and storage. The
door Aya wanted was upstairs. She didn't know if she could make it
up the stairs.

"Tell me where I can look at you," he
pressed, lips traveling from her ear to the corner of her mouth
before tracing the bridge of her nose.

Reality struck her sudden as a venosphere
storm. Noelle stiffened and squirmed in his grasp. What was she
doing? She didn't know him. Didn't even know if he was really her
man. He could be some...something. House burglar. Mandroid
programmed as a con artist.

Aya stopped at the base of the stairs and
spoke as if he read her mind, though she’d specifically nixed
VioletFang tech. "Your receipt and my details and identification
are in my bag. I know I should have presented them first. We can
get them now."

Noelle swallowed and hid her face against his
throat. Breathing deep of his warm ginger cookie scent, she felt
her wariness recede. Heat rushed her body. He could provide his
proof of belonging, but she'd have to break contact with him…and if
his ID was fake, she’d have to be smart and notify the authorities.
Continuing on this course was less than intelligent but, Deity, she
wanted to be stupid if stupid meant not letting him go. Her legs
tightened around his waist. Unfazed by the physical trial of
holding her aloft for so long, Aya readjusted his grip and rocked
her pussy against his erection. As if he read her mind.

Maybe now was a good time to lose herself in
another of his kisses. Or the taste of his skin. Did his scalp have
the same spicy taste? Deity. She wanted to devour him. "Upstairs,"
she finally said before surrendering to the urge to lick the
underside of his chiseled jaw.

While she clung to his shoulders and sucked a
mark at the base of his throat, Aya climbed the stairs. Every step
rubbed his cock between her legs. She counted every one and by
thirteen—“If I don't come soon, I'm going to scream."

He laughed, a low rumble, and bent forward
until the firm cushion of her mattress supported her back. Aya
straightened and broke her hold on his waist. The absence of his
heat left her cold. Shivering, she reached for him.

He brushed her hands away. Without speaking,
he knelt on the mattress between her splayed legs and went
immediately to the invizipper that secured her one-piece pajamas.
Even though she kept her home heated to a mild temperature, the air
snaking across her skin as he lowered the invizipper chilled her.
Nothing was as warm as this man. She wanted him back in her arms.
And between her legs.

Aya lifted her shoulders and pulled her
sleeves down, pinning her arms to her sides and exposing her
breasts. Desire warred with alarm at her sudden helplessness. She
struggled, working her shoulders and arms. She lifted her head to
glare at him and froze. Naked hunger carved his face into harsh
planes. She didn't remember Micah or John ever looking
so...starved.

"I only want to taste you," he muttered as he
ducked his head.

She lost sight of the need sculpting his
features. Aya straddled her, his knees at either side of her hips,
caging her. She couldn't flee even if she wanted to. He wanted to
taste her. She swallowed, tried to breathe through the rising panic
of being bound by a…a stranger. He was a stranger. She should want
her freedom. A soft, hungry sound hummed from his chest and the
hard tip of his tongue rubbed across her erect nipple, driving away
everything except a desire to
be
tasted. Her skin sizzled in
the wake of his mouth, which left a cinnamon-candy tingle. The
spicy-hot trail crossed her breastbone, circled her neglected
nipple, and the combination of spiking heat bowed her back.

"I've never tasted any—” He cut off abruptly,
a strange expression crossing his face before he shook his head and
skimmed his lips across the pale skin between her breasts. His low
growl kicked her pulse up a notch. "Again."

Again. Sure. Noelle ground the back of her
head into the blankets and closed her eyes. Again would definitely
be acceptable. He did it again, curling his tongue around her
nipple, drawing the peak into his mouth. Pleasure built under her
skin until she thought she'd burst if she didn't find relief.

"Taste lower!" The order burst from her lungs
on a gasp of breath. She shook with anticipation. She’d never been
so
ready
.

She felt more than heard his short, wicked
laugh. It vibrated against her skin, intensified the heat of his
mouth. The mattress shifted beneath her, depressing as he crouched
lower, closer to her body. His confined erection notched into the
seam of her clenched thighs. She spread her legs and scooped her
hips, seeking stronger, hotter contact. Her fingertips just skimmed
his ribs if she strained. She wanted to
touch
him.

"Deity," she moaned, her abdomen tightening,
begging for the sucking, biting mouth currently drawing a line down
the center of her torso. She strained against her sleeves,
wrenching one shoulder, then the other, desperate to free her
hands. "
Aya
. Let me go or make me come."

He paused at her navel and raised his head.
Hot eyes, no less hungry than they'd been. Her mouth dried. Noelle
swallowed hard, briefly wondering what kind of havoc he could wreak
in her body if he unleashed himself and took more than his few
tastes.

"Say please, Noelle. I want you to ask, not
demand." His faint growth of beard abraded her skin as he spoke. A
hard shiver wrenched her bound limbs.

Sexually dominant
. Her mind flashed
back to the Manporium list.
Omideity
.

"Ask," she repeated breathlessly. Okay. She
could ask. A little grin pulled at her lips. She tipped her head
back and stared at the ceiling, hoping he wouldn't see her
delight...or her orneriness. "Aya?"

Strong fingers kneaded her ass. "Yeah?"

"Will you please bury your face against my
pussy and lick me really hard?"

A strangled sound came from his throat.
Instead of replying, he straightened and hauled her one-piece over
her wrists and hands, freeing her to touch him.
Yes.
Finally
. Before she could indulge and reach for him, he jostled
her hips off the mattress and dragged her pajamas lower, baring her
thighs.

Cinnamon-hot sensation tingled over her clit,
wrenching her awareness away from anything except
that
, his
mouth on her without playing, without preamble. She clutched his
head, molding her palms around the shape of his skull, and locked
him tight to her body. Aya's tongue burrowed into her slit, a long
lick that made her wail.
More
. Oh, she needed more. She
tried to spread her legs and arch into his mouth but he'd bound her
again, her knees trapped by the bunched fabric of her pajamas.

"Aya." His name was a moan, long and drawn
out as his tongue swiped from the rim of her opening to the peak of
her clit. She brought her knees up between them, bracing her
shuddering body against his unyielding stomach. He ignored the plea
in her voice. Instead of backing off, he delved deeper. His chin
scraped the sensitive tissue between her labia as he made room for
his mouth. Firm lips closed around her slippery knot. Sensation
spiked, pushing her to the edge of orgasm. Deity, his mouth. The
slight burn of his tongue–how did he do that—added a hint of
pain.

He lifted his head from her, holding her
thighs still as her hips bucked to get the last touch that would
send her over. Cursing breathlessly, she writhed under him.

Unconcerned, Aya traced a thin, moist line
along the join of her thigh and pelvis. Warm hands stroked her
legs, petting from hip to knee, and he lingered beneath her
hipbone, worrying her skin with small, sucking kisses. Between
painless bites, he said, "You got precisely what you asked
for."

Her breath huffed out on a laugh. "You know I
wanted more."

"Maybe," he responded, his hot little kisses
heading for her hip. He rolled her onto her side and gently bit her
right cheek. "I don't think you know what you want, exactly."

Noelle grabbed a handful of blanket. Aya
pushed her onto her stomach and nuzzled the small of her back. Out
of her line of sight, he boxed her in with the heat of his body.
The mattress depressed around her as he climbed onto her bed and
crouched above her on his hands and knees. Her arousal ramped up
again. Who knew she'd get off on feeling like a mouse pinned by a
lion?

"What do you think?" Aya spoke in her ear. He
licked the hollow behind the lobe.

"I think...gah. I'm not thinking anything.
What do
you
think?"

"I think you asked for what you thought you
should want, not what you actually need." He settled down against
her, pinning her hips beneath his groin. His chest came over her
back, warm and hard, and each breath he drew coaxed a new pulse of
want from her veins. "But that's fine. I can teach you the
difference between want and need."

Her breath caught in her throat. Could he?
Could he really?

Before she could get a hold on that slippery
thought, he bit the nape of her neck, closing his mouth over the
delicate bones, putting just enough pressure behind the bite to
hold her still. Oh, Deity. She'd known—known—she needed this. But
how could she have planned for the pure, stabbing beauty of it? The
way his hands held her, the way his teeth gripped her, the way his
body controlled hers? She might have thought she understood, but
she'd been wrong.

His fingers circled slowly over her hands,
her wrists, her arms. He lingered at the hollows of her elbows,
scraping his nails along the delicate skin. The minute sting of his
teeth at her nape was joined by the tingling burn of his tongue. A
tiny niggling fear clawed its way back to the surface. She didn't
know him. He was bigger, stronger than she. There was no way for
her to escape him in this position, no way for her to fight if he
wanted to hurt her. Every muscle tensed. Why the hell had she said
she wanted this?

Long, slow strokes of his tongue tangled
pleasure and panic.

"Relax." His breath heated her skin, warm and
somehow soothing. Slowly, so slowly she barely noticed it, he
rolled her to her back again. She stared up at him, dazed, still
struggling with herself. The shadows robbed his eyes of color, but
the intensity of his expression came through. "I'll take care of
you."

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I
can...oooh.”

His mouth closed over one nipple, the heat
and suction bowing her back. Liquid streamers of fire ran under her
skin, his tongue leaving a stinging path wherever he licked. Oh,
Deity. How did he do that? It was like his tongue carried magic
that burned.

Aya worked his way down her body, his hands
still pinning her wrists to the bed. Fire trailed his tongue,
persisting even when he moved on. There was something about it,
something familiar and not, but she was too far gone to put her
finger on it. Nothing mattered but the trail of heat he laid across
her skin.

Noelle writhed beneath him, her hips arching
to rub against him, trying to soothe the emptiness inside, trying
to find ease from the hunger he woke.

He slid over her legs, worked his tongue
across the sensitive skin of her mound, skirting the trimmed edge
of hair. She'd meant to be bare for him, meant to be polished and
preened. Instead, she was raw and wearing–-or not wearing-–her
least sexy pajamas. He didn't seem to care. And when his tongue
speared into her again, she didn't care anymore, either. This time
there was no long lick. No, this time he plunged into her as if he
would fuck her with his tongue alone.

Again and again he thrust his tongue inside,
curling the tip up on the outward lick and using his nose to nudge
her clit. Deity, who knew a nose could be used like that?

Her hips bucked and she struggled against the
hold he had on her wrists. She wanted to touch him but the more she
struggled, the shallower the strokes of his tongue. She wrenched
her pelvis to force him deeper.

"Tsk." The chiding sound sent a cool puff of
air across the sensitive, swollen lips of her pussy and drew a moan
from her throat. "None of that. You'll take what I give you."

It was hard to argue when the gift was so
damned good. She forced herself to relax, to stop fighting him.
She'd wanted him to be controlling in the bedroom, hadn’t she?

"Good," he approved. He rewarded her with a
sharp bite to her inner thigh. Her body jumped at the hard nip. A
wave of heat rolled through her, the small pain mixing with the
aching pleasure between her legs.