Temptation, Chronicles of the Fallen, Book 3 (14 page)

“It’s what I know.”

“Then you don’t know a damned thing.”

She stood toe-to-toe with him, her chest brushing his as her angry breaths heaved in and out. “I know the only reason you came after me in the first place was because of that ridiculous prophecy. I know every time I reach out to touch you, you freeze. Whenever I’m close to you, you’re always clenching your fists, and you get stiff as a two-by-four whenever—”

“My ability to touch you doesn’t have a damned thing to do with it. I’ve wanted you from the moment I first laid eyes on you,” Gideon growled, his control snapping like dried twigs and rapidly going up in flames. “I stiffen up to keep from grabbing you up in my arms and holding you so tight I’d probably break you. I clench my fists to keep from reaching for you. Not your powers or visions, not your damned bloodlines. Christ on a crutch! If anything, your bloodlines, your father and the damned prophecy are prime reasons why I should stay as far the hell away from you as possible!”

He dragged in a breath, too irate to comprehend that she was staring up at him in open-mouthed shock.

“And I force myself to be still to keep myself from seizing you and dragging you to the ground beneath me,” he added. “To keep myself from tearing your clothes off and devouring every inch of you. Because once I do, once I lose control, there’s no going back. I’ll claim you as my female. In every way possible. And no matter how badly I want you, no matter how much I might cherish you, I will always be a threat to you. I’ll always be dangerous because a part of me will always be Temptation.”

He paused, giving her a less than gentle shake. “Do you get it now? If I claim you, despite the fact that I’d be putting you at risk on every front, I will never, never be able to let you go, never be able to stay away from you. I won’t be able to help myself.”

His chest was heaving now, the air in the hallway made thin by the tension between the two of them. He stared down into her startled blue-green eyes, and then lower to her softly parted lips.

Gideon was riding the razor’s edge now, close to tipping over that treacherous point of no return. He could feel every pulse of his heart, the rushing of his blood through his veins. He’d never felt so alive. And everything inside him was yearning for her. He’d never been this ready, this eager to lose control. Normally that realization would have been enough to make him nervous, but right now there wasn’t an ounce of rage in his system.

Nothing but pure, raw desire.

She placed her free hand upon his chest. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

Gideon sucked in a sharp breath. That moment, the invitation in her eyes, the weight of her hand upon his chest would forever be burned into his memory. “Woman, you have no idea the beast you tempt.”

Becoming color flooded her cheeks. She glanced down and to the side for a moment before she looked back up at him. She opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly, her gaze swerved back, just to the side of his head. Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide.

When she looked back at him, she had the strangest expression on her face. And then she gasped softly, one of those
aha
looks suddenly lighting her face. Was she having one of the visions she’d told him about? Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder, over hers. There was nothing there but bare wall.

“What?” he asked. “What are you looking at?”

She slowly turned to him, and a bemused smile lit her features. And then she began to laugh. The tinkling sound washed over him in waves, soothing his soul, pouring fuel on the flames of his need, confusing the living hell out of him.

“Wallpaper.”

Chapter Twelve

In that moment, it all became clear to Maggie. Life was about choices. She’d been so tied up in the choices that other people made, in the chaos that other people created, that she’d forgotten her choices mattered just as much. She was standing at a crossroads, the wallpaper a sign. The very same wallpaper from her vision.

And although, once she’d had a vision about a specific event, she’d never been able to change the outcome, surely she could change this one. If she wanted to.

If she
really
wanted to…

Would she choose the path that led to her going into that bedroom all alone and miserable? Or would she choose the path that led to a stolen moment of passion and hunger right here in this hallway, no matter where that path might end?

This was her moment.

This was her choice, vision be damned.

Maggie stared up into Gideon’s golden eyes. She might need him.

But he needed her as well.

Pushing aside her insecurities, pushing aside the little voice that told her she wasn’t good enough—that she’d never been good enough for anyone else, why would she be good enough for him?—Maggie went up on tiptoe and reached for him. Reached for what she never imagined could be hers. She cupped the back of Gideon’s neck with her free hand, dragged his head down and pressed her lips to his.

For a split second he froze again. He peered down at her as if he still couldn’t believe his senses. And then he exploded into motion all around her. One second his lips were unresponsive against hers, his hand clamped on her wrist like a vise, his other arm rigid at his side. The next instant, his lips were devouring hers, his tongue plunging greedily into her mouth, swirling over hers, demanding and voracious. His arms crushed her so tightly she could barely breathe.

The unforgiving ridge of his arousal pressed against her, demanding and merciless, and he rocked his hips, his lean body shuddering all around her. She moaned as an answering rush of melting warmth hit her, low and deep. Tunneling her fingers in his hair, she kissed him back, pouring every ounce of desire coursing through her into her response.

Gideon groaned into her mouth, the sound of it, the vibration against the delicate skin of her lips and tongue erotic beyond imagining. Changing the angle of his kiss, he deepened the intimate contact, dragging her under wave after wave of mindless passion as he pushed her back, pressing her up against the wall, pinning her, caging her. She fully understood there would be no escape. That realization made her giddy. His hand swept down her side to squeeze her hip before slipping back up beneath the hem of her T-shirt. The heat of his calloused skin upon her bare flesh was delicious. She trembled beneath his touch.

His thigh pressed between hers, intimate and unyielding. His fingers tangled in her hair, dragging her head back. Gideon tore his lips from hers and stared down at her for a moment, just for a slim second, as if to reassure himself this was really what she wanted. That she hadn’t changed her mind.

She hadn’t.

He swooped down and he seized the sensitive skin just beneath her ear. She shuddered. His mouth, so hot, so hungry, sucked and nipped, playing there, driving her crazy. Eventually, he slid down over her throat to torment the flesh where neck met shoulder. Maggie was helpless, could only whimper for more. He skimmed along the bare skin on her abdomen, and Maggie shivered in response. The rough pads of his fingertips spread over her ribs, skating up until he cupped her breast. With ruthless, aggressive motions, he rubbed his palm against her breast until her nipple budded beneath the friction.

A low, primal growl rumbled through his chest and into her. His movements were rough as Gideon jerked his hands free. Before she realized what he intended, he grasped the collar of her T-shirt and ripped it right down the middle. Her pretty, lacy bra suffered the same fate before he dragged the tattered fabric down her arms, pulling her away from the wall long enough to toss the material aside.

Gideon leaned back for a moment, his hungry gaze drinking her in. “So beautiful,” he whispered reverently, and she knew he wasn’t speaking to her. Not deliberately, anyway. It had been an unguarded thought that had slipped from his lips, and meant all the more to her for it.

But she was just as ravenous to feel his flesh. She reached for his shirt, but before she could grip the material, it disappeared.

She blinked in confusion. “Did you do that?”

He nodded, his dazzled gaze never leaving her breasts as his muscular chest rose and fell on an impossibly deep, shuddering breath.

“Why didn’t you just make my clothes disappear like that too?” Maggie asked breathlessly. “Why’d you rip them off?”

He finally looked at her, ensnaring her with those sparkling eyes. The grin that spread across his lips was so wicked, her throat all but closed.

“That was for me, Maggie.”

He moved into her swiftly then, shoving her urgently against the wall. The cool, textured wallpaper grounded her as his chest, smooth as silk, hard as granite, and blazing hot, pressed against her front. His lips slammed over hers as his calloused hands gripped her hips in a punishing hold. Her head swam as she lost touch with everything but Gideon and the way he kissed her, not only with his mouth, but with his entire body.

He took possession of her bottom, squeezing, flexing, squeezing. Without warning, he dropped to his knees before her. Deft fingers flicked the button on her jeans free. He jerked the zipper open and dragged them down her legs. Gideon balanced her with a hand on her hip while she stepped free.

On his knees, he slowly pushed both splayed hands up over her belly, over her rib cage, to cradle her breasts. He used his lips and tongue and teeth to lavish attention on first one, then the other. Maggie was grateful for the wall, using it to brace herself when her legs threatened to give way. Especially when he began feathering kisses down her stomach, his target more than apparent.

Using just his fingertips, he traced the lace pattern on her panties. She couldn’t keep up with his mercurial changes. In one moment, he was impatient, rough and greedy, In the next it was as if he was trying to make up for an eternity of deprivation by touching and exploring her as much as physically possible. By the time he was finished tormenting her, her breasts felt full and achy, her sex was wet and throbbing and every muscle in her body quivered.

Looking up at her, smiling seductively, he slowly twisted his thumbs in the lace covering her hips and slowly—
oh, dear Lord in Heaven!
—so slowly dragged it down, down, down, off. Gideon sat back on his haunches and stared up at her, worshipful awe etched in every line of his face, his body posed as one at an altar.

Suddenly and unaccountably embarrassed at being displayed like this, Maggie made to cover herself. But he was having none of it. He captured her wrists with a chiding shake of his head and pulled them to the sides, pressing her hands flat against the wall, silently commanding her to leave them there.

Then he skimmed those sandpaper-rough fingertips along the sensitive skin where hip and thigh connected, making a rumbling sound deep in his throat that sounded suspiciously like the rumbling of a predatory big cat. Strong hands splayed at the tops of her thighs and firmly, purposefully smoothed down until they gripped her knees. With single-minded purpose, Gideon pushed her knees apart.

His breath left him in an audible whoosh, as if he’d been sucker punched. As if he’d just stumbled upon the greatest discovery of mankind. And when his hands began a feather light ascent up the ultrasensitive flesh of her inner thighs, he groaned aloud. His brows drew together as if he were being tortured.

The first stroke of his fingertips over her trembling, drenched flesh was soft, testing. Reverent. “Exquisite,” he whispered, again to himself.

Her head fell back against the wall, her eyes drifting closed on a tremulous sigh. With each successive stroke, her need for him grew by leaps and bounds. He grew bolder in his explorations, circling her, feathering over her, slicking through the wet silk of her cleft, but never quite penetrating her.

Moaning, Maggie lost track of her surroundings. Unmindful of the fact that they were in the hallway and that anyone could stumble upon them, she could only focus on Gideon and what his talented hands were doing to her. Her body shook, her hips following the rhythm of his dancing fingers. His strokes slowed, until one fingertip hesitated, poised at her entrance. Waiting.

Panting, desperate for him to ease the ache he’d so skillfully orchestrated, confused as to why he’d stopped, Maggie dragged her eyes open. He was staring up at her expectantly, watching her with acute focus, his expression a tormented mixture of pain and wonder, lust and reverence. She couldn’t tell which of them wanted this more.

He’d made the rest of his clothing disappear. The sight of him kneeling before her, completely naked, caused a fresh wave of liquid warmth to swirl through her womb. His golden hair was tousled from her hands. His lips were slightly swollen from her kisses. His broad shoulders bore tiny scratch marks from her nails, marks she hadn’t even realized she’d caused. The sight of those marks, her marks, upon his flesh sent an indelible shot of possessiveness streaking through her.

His muscular chest and ridged abdomen were free of body hair, but peppered with scars of various shapes and sizes. Both arms were covered with detailed tattoos, shoulders to wrists. A confusing mixture of images, foreign runes and blocks of scripture, pictures of holy relics and bloody carnage.

His hips were narrow, his powerful thighs spread wide. And from the thatch of springy golden hair between his legs jutted his erection, thick and proud, the girth alone enough to give her pause.

His fingers twitched, there at her entrance, and her gaze snapped back to his. Once she locked on his, as if he’d been waiting his entire existence for just that exact moment, he slowly slid his finger deep inside her. As he did so, his thumb brushed along the tiny bundle of nerves he’d already caressed to a frenzied awareness. Her mouth fell open on a gasp. Her eyes all but rolled back in her head as he slowly began to move, stroking her deep, first with one finger, then two.

Her body went absolutely still in expectation when she felt the hot brush of his breath over her quivering, damp flesh. And when his tongue flicked over her and his mouth settled upon her womanhood, her entire body jolted. She cried out.

Gideon wedged his broad shoulders between her thighs, and wound his free arm up between her legs to grip her bottom, holding her in place for his feasting. And feast he did. He rode out the jolt of her body, the frenzied jerk of her hips, suckling her, teasing and lapping at her, pumping three fingers inside her now.

“Gideon! Oh, God, Gideon!” she cried out, moaning aloud as she clutched blindly, desperately at the wall, at his shoulders, at thin air, for support.

Sensations rocketed through her, wild and uncontainable. Her body trembled with pleasure, arching, stretching for more. Wave after wave of bliss caught her up, shattering her, sending her drifting on the clouds.

But Gideon was relentless, and nowhere near finished with her. She’d no more than come down from one orgasm before he ruthlessly drove her up the peak of another. His satisfied growl against the soft skin of her inner thigh when she came a third time—or had it simply been an extension of the second, dragged on and on for his pleasure—took her knees out from under her. She couldn’t help it. She simply collapsed.

He moved, fast as lightning, sweeping her up, pinning her between the wall and his rock solid chest. His breath skated over her ear, burning her.

“Don’t think for a second I’m done making you come on my mouth. I intend to gorge on you, over and over and over.” His chest heaved as he panted raggedly in her ear. “I’m starved for the taste of you. I’ll never get enough.” He nipped her earlobe, a sharp little sting as if to punctuate his warning before suckling the pain away.

She was too satiated to argue, too limp to move. Here and now she fully understood the phrase,
putty in his hands
.

Gideon captured her lips, dragging her back from the edge of languid satiation, plunging her into needy awareness. Competent hands lifted her higher against the wall, till her feet left the floor. He used his body to hold her in place while his hands skimmed down her sides. He gripped her knees, pushing them up, guiding them high around his waist. Maggie locked her ankles over his taut buttocks. His motions were rough once more. Her drenched cleft skated along the rigid length of his erection and he snarled, his fingers digging in, bruising her.

“Have to get inside you,” he growled.

She whimpered. Her arms felt like rubber, but she twined them around his neck, winding her fingers in the warm silk of his hair as he kissed her senseless once more. She could feel the thick head of his shaft pushing at her entrance, stretching her though she was more than ready. She could feel every beat of his heart pulsing in his member, connecting them somehow on an elemental level. A new, corresponding ache formed in her womb, deeper, more painful and more demanding than before, and instinct told her the only way to ease that ache was to get him inside her, all the way inside, as fast as possible.

She squeezed her thighs tighter around him and rocked her hips in frenzied demand. She tugged his hair sharply when he didn’t immediately shove hard inside her. Maggie sank her teeth into his lower lip. She didn’t recognize this wanton, demanding female she’d become, had never had her body slip beyond her control like this before. Had never had such a physically carnal encounter in her life. It was as if she’d been awakened.

Gideon had brought this out of her. Only Gideon.

And only Gideon could satisfy her now.

A dark, guttural curse burst from him. He pried her fingers from his hair, manacled her wrist, slammed it against the wall above her head and held it there. He jerked his head back, his golden eyes sizzling with hunger as he stared her down. Slowly, so she’d be sure to see it, she knew, he licked the thin ribbon of red at the edge of his lower lip where she’d drawn blood. She was shocked by her own behavior…and more turned on than she’d ever been in her life.