Primitive Nights (13 page)

She nodded. “It’s similar. We swear to be faithful to each other. To stand by a husband or wife even when life goes wrong.”

“And you ask for health, happiness and children?”

“Mostly.” She shrugged, twining her fingers in his hair. “We tend to overthink things. Good health comes through medical care. Children are planned more often than not. And happiness…”

Her brows scrunched, and he pressed a kiss to them to ease the tension. He did not want her to think of anything more than him. His curiosity refused him for a moment more. “You plan children?”

“Yes.” She nibbled at her lip. “Most times.”

“Explain.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “There is medicine that prevents birth.”

“That is unnatural.” Even with the temptation of her body beneath his, he had to ask. “How is this done?”

“It’s called birth control. There are pills, shots, even medication that is implanted under the skin. Each one has similar medications that make a woman unable to conceive.”

Like the
danja
root, only opposite. “The elders use danja to help with fertility. It makes the old seed strong again. Children are a blessing, Myla. Why do your people choose to stop nature?”

“
I
choose to stop nature until
I
am ready to have a child.”

Her indignant response was a surprise. “You use this medication?”

“Yes.” She sighed. “I have a shot every three months. When I choose to have children, I can simply stop the medication.”

It made little sense to him, but he could see her frustration. “Our worlds are very different.”

“In some ways.” Her features softened. “But the medication means sex can be a little less stressful. We have other forms of protection too.”

He grinned. “For mating without concern?”

He shifted then, pressing himself close to her body.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“I am not concerned with mating.” He pressed a kiss at the turn of her neck, just below her ear. “You should not be concerned. I will make you feel good.”

“I’m not concer—”

“No more talk.”

She nodded and arched into his mouth as he dragged it back down her throat. He stopped at each alluring curve and turn of her skin to taste and memorize. Lower still he moved, a deafening rush pounding in his ears from the erratic pace of his heart. He yanked her shirt down farther until her arms were pinned at her sides, her body held prisoner for his mouth, trapped for his pleasure.

Her struggles to free her arms inflamed his arousal. Sucking at the curve of her breast, he brushed his lips over the lace to find the hardened nipple begging for his attention. He moved over it, exhilarated by her gasp, and repeated the movement until she pressed closer, arching her back and finally freeing her arms.

Then her hands were on him, teasing with light strokes up his sides and over his back. Her nails raked down to the base of his back and slid across the top of his cloth. When one hand moved down to curve over his butt and down his bare thigh, he jerked with the explosive pleasure that coursed through him.

“I want to taste all of you,” he managed.

Gently, he slipped a finger under the oddly strapped contraption binding her breasts. Pulling it off her shoulder, he traced the path with his lips. The fabric peeled free, revealing supple, warm flesh. He licked at the puckered nipple, denying himself more.

Repeating the action on the other side, he looked down. He wanted the offending article gone, but there were no ties, no bindings that held it together. “How do you remove this thing?”

Her purr mingled with an angry burst of thunder as she arched up to reach behind her back. The motion pushed her breasts up, served before him in erotic fashion. He took her into his mouth, sucking at her aroused flesh even as she settled back to the ground.

He covered her other breast with his hand and realized the cloth had slid loose. Tossing it aside, he slipped lower down her body. He nuzzled his cheek across her smooth belly, licking at her navel and lower until he met yet another barrier. With a small sigh, he glanced up. “This is much easier in my world.”

Myla laughed, though she wasn’t sure how she’d produced the sound through the tight pressure in her throat. His masterful touch had driven her desire to desperate proportions. “I don’t think I could get used to wearing so little clothing like you do.”

A devilish smile curved his lips, and he fingered the button to her cargo pants. “You must try before you decide.” He kissed the skin above his fingers and shards of heat settled in her stomach. “Remove these.”

The command in his voice excited her as much as his touch. She reached down to pop the button free, then unzipped the short zipper. His fingers followed her movements, stroking her skin as she exposed it. When she shifted to push the pants down her hips, he smiled and reached out to move her hands away. He sat back and tugged them free, sliding his hands up and over her legs. “More?”

She’d closed her eyes, and the soft question surprised her. Of course she wanted more. Did women in his tribe show their passion differently? She peeked up at him only to find him staring at her thong with disdain. His disconcerted gaze was too cute. “They’re called underwear.”

He grasped her hips and rolled her to the side to glance at her bottom. “They have no back.” His fingers traced the fabric as he settled her back again and slid his knees between her legs. “Why do you wear something that has no use?”

The fact that his fingers were tracing her thong down between her legs made it difficult to answer. “They cover what they need to cover.”

His fingers pressed against her damp center, wringing a soft cry from her throat. “This?”

She nodded. How could teaching him about the use of underwear be as erotic as it was? “Yes and the back makes it so people can’t see the lines of my underwear against my pants.”

His brows arched. “Do your people often look at each other’s bottoms?”

With a silent prayer for patience, she blew out a breath. “No, but it is—oh, never mind.” She reached up and drew her fingers over his hard chest. “Let’s discuss clothing some other time.”

He chuckled, but his fingers continued to graze over her sensitized folds. “It must take you a long time to prepare yourself in the mornings.”

“No, not real—” She gasped when his finger slid under the fabric to trace along her heated flesh. The slick reaction of her body smoothed over his finger, and his soft groan told her he felt it as well.

“You said you did not wish to talk about it.” His finger rubbed over her with gentle, expertly placed pressure. “Your body craves me.”

“Very much.” She should be dying from embarrassment, and yet she’d never felt so free, so uninhibited, wild. “Take them off.”

He smiled and drew the thong down her legs. The fabric pulled over her skin, building on her anticipation. She lifted one leg at a time as he removed them. They were tossed aside with little care to land next to her bra. His small shrug would have made her laugh, but the soft press of his lips against her inner thigh stopped it midway through her throat.

She buried her hands in his hair as he moved closer to her center, dragging hot kisses against her skin until she shivered beneath his seduction. His breath came hot and heavy, his fingers spreading her legs farther to sink into the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. The pleasure he created staggered her mind, but when his mouth closed over her, his tongue tracing across the swollen, sensitive nub of her desire, she arched off the ground. “Oh, God.”

His tongue and mouth pleasured her, creating a soft rhythm against her until she tossed her head from side to side with the ache developing in the pit of her stomach. Deep heat flooded her aroused flesh, and she trembled, closer to orgasm than she’d thought possible. She gripped his hair to urge and beg off in turn, until small flashes of light broke her vision.

Damon could not get enough. The taste of her body, the heat and her response fueled him on, and he stroked her until she cried out. She was close. He slid his finger into her depths as her body shuddered and trembled beneath him. Her response rained over him with tiny pulses, increasing in intensity like the thunder around them.

He sat back on his knees, staring down at her in the late-afternoon shadows. Her breasts rose and fell in staggered breaths, a sensual smile curving her damp lips. Then she reached up, slipping the ties free to pull his cloth loose. The fabric twisted around his waist, brushing over his aroused shaft with torturous friction until finally she dragged it away.

Her gaze moved over him slowly, sending sizzles of pleasure through his stomach. When her hands moved over his chest and lower to trace the muscles of his ribs, he fisted his hands at his sides, certain he could not take more. His reaction to her touch threatened to make him spill his seed before they mated. The feel of her fingers nearly drove him over the edge.

Then her hands moved lower. He sucked in a harsh breath when she traced the hard contours of his shaft. She closed her hand around him, her small palm barely covering half his aching flesh. He reached down to place her other hand on his engorged shaft and thrust into her grasp, ignoring the burn in his thigh. The wound would heal. His heart might not. He needed her tonight.

She increased the pressure, drawing over him until he threw his head back with the sensations ripping through him. He leaned down, bracing himself as she stroked him, mimicking the cadence he wanted to set inside her. When she sucked a finger into her mouth and drew the dampness over his heated flesh, he knew he was done.

Unable to wait any longer, he crushed his body to hers, sliding between her slickened thighs until his shaft met the hot welcome folds of her center. He braced there for a moment, rubbing along her body as he framed her face.

Her eyes were heavy-lidded, dazed. The knowledge that she was as lost in this pleasure as he was spurred him on. He pressed slowly into her body, gritting his teeth at the incredible sensation evoked by their joining. He moved deeper, dying to fill her and savor the pressure of her body surrounding him. Wanting nothing more than to finish the sensuous torture they had created. But he would know her passion first. This could be their only night, and he refused to miss the experience of her unraveling around him.

She gasped for breath, her eyes wide. “You feel incredible.”

He nodded against her shoulder, not trusting himself to speak, and thrust deep. Scattering kisses over her jaw and shoulder, he moved, unable to remain still when her body begged him for more, her words urging him on to a faster, more demanding pace he was only too happy to meet.

She moved with him, her body slick with the heat and response of her desire. Thunder and lightning cracked overhead, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging between them. Small drops of warm rain filtered down through the trees, and he pressed on, demanding more, meeting her need as she pulled him closer, her lips closing over the skin at his neck.

Her small sobs of pleasure drove him to the brink of release, and he plunged deep, rubbing against her core until he felt the first pulse of her release clamp around him in a tight grip. He held her there, enjoying her response. Her eyes darkened. The sky opened up.

A streak of lightning arced over the trees, and Myla stared up at his form framed in the harsh light. He didn’t move other than the slightest shift of his hips. He commanded her body with seamless effort, and she could do nothing more than pray he didn’t stop. Balanced on an incredible release, she waited, crying out in desperation. “Please, Damon.”

Then he moved again, with hard, deep thrusts that burned up through her body and tightened in a knot in her belly. The rain drummed over them, wild with the intensity of the storm, while their bodies glided wet and slick in perfect rhythm.

She urged him on, begging him for more until the tight fist inside her unraveled and spiraled down through her center to clamp around him in pulses of pleasure. The world around her disintegrated.

He stroked deeper, drawing every wave of her release out to an incredible pinnacle that made her arch from the ground and shudder against his demanding sex. His throaty yell followed her cry. His shaft, buried deep within her, pulsed with his release until he collapsed in her arms.

Damon pulled her naked body close. She shivered slightly, and he curved his arm and leg over her. The rain continued to fall in blinding sheets outside their small shelter, but he was content to hold her close. He could not sleep. The first light of morning had broken the dense black nearly an hour ago, and soon they would have to leave their shelter. He liked the thought less with every passing moment.

Their coupling had been beyond anything he could have imagined. Even now, his body remained hard, pressed against her thigh. He wanted more, wanted to remain deep inside of her until they could no longer feel. But she needed her rest, and the days that would follow could prove difficult for her.

Her damp hair clung to his arm as she lay against it, peaceful in sleep. Her eyes shifted beneath the lids, and he wondered what she dreamed. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. There was something about her that made him want—what? To keep her with him? To make her his?