The Devil and Ms. Moody (15 page)

She looked up at Diablo, and even from a distance she recognized the fever in his eyes. He was waiting for her to release him, to release the wolf. Her heart accelerated as she reached up and touched the flower in her hair, and for the first time in their relationship she knew the subtle thrill of power.

E
DWINA TOOK THE FLOWER
from her hair and held it in her palm, examining its delicate pink petals. “Lovely,” she murmured.

“Do you remember what it means?”

“Freedom?” She brought the blossom to her lips, drinking in its exquisite softness. The breath she released shook oddly. He was offering her something she desperately wanted—a taste of freedom, a chance to be something more than the dutiful daughter, the watchful big sister. He was offering her Edwina Moody, a woman she didn’t know.

“Life has a flow, Princess. Give in to it.”

Edwina had planned every step of her life for as long as she could remember, and so little of it had worked out the way she’d intended. Maybe it was time to take what came. Her shoulders rose with a sharp influx of air. Let go of the flower?
Let go of everything she knew?

She set the larkspur blossom afloat.

The low sound Diablo made was rusty with heat and relief and sensuality. Edwina glanced up as he pulled off his boots and tossed them aside. He straightened, and her first impression was of dark eyes and flashing tension, a stalking wolf. Her next was of size, physical dimension. Perhaps it was her lower vantage point from the pool, but he looked enormous, a shadow thrown by the mountains.

His seeming disregard at shedding his clothes made the act even more startling as he stripped off the vest. With a quick flick of his fingers he popped the snap on his jeans.

Conflict rose in Edwina like a tidal surge, but she couldn’t turn away. He lowered the zipper, and she could see by the V of dark hair in the widening slash that he wore no underwear. As he hooked his thumbs in the waistband to pull the jeans off, she stepped back and lost her footing. Water erupted around her, bubbles foaming and bursting. The pool went crazy with turbulence.

“Come on, Ed,” he said softly. “You’re not going to chicken out on me now?”

She looked up as she heard him pull off the jeans, and what she saw was enough to make her wonder about the old adage about all men being created equal. She’d seen him before, but he wasn’t aroused then. He was now. Very.

She winced as he kicked the pants away. But she couldn’t avoid his nakedness, or his arousal as he entered the pool. The warm water enveloped him, and when he brushed her cheek with his hand, she turned to him helplessly.

He stroked her face, a rare and sweet tenderness in his touch, and the strangest thing happened to her heart. It tightened and expanded. She could actually feel it squeeze and then swell in her chest as though to accommodate the surge of emotion she felt.

“You’re
gentle,
” she said.

“What did you expect”—a smile touched his eyes—“a wolf? The big bad wolf?”

“Yes.” She had. Just that.

“Sorry.” He pleasured her with lengthening strokes. “This may be a little boring then.”

“I ... doubt it.”

Edwina dwelt for a moment in the crushing green of his eyes and knew that he
was
part wolf. His feral instincts might be in check at the moment, but they lived in the dark heart of him, waiting to be freed.

“What is your request?” she asked.

He looked surprised, and then he smiled. “Want to get it over with that quickly, do you?”

“No, I just want to know what I’m—what we’re going to be doing.”

“Rest easy. Princess, it’s not that cold-blooded. I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

“When it’s time? But you looked so ready.”

“Oh, I’m ready. I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready. But this is an initiation, a solemn ceremony, and some things can’t be hurried.”

All the while he talked, he caressed her as though she were a purring kitten, stroking the underside of her chin as she tipped it up.
Mmmmmm
—on the tenth stroke or so, she decided that she could get to like him this way, tender and considerate.

“On second thought, there is something I want,” he said. He held her with his eyes, running his hand up the length of her arm, riveting her as he cupped her breast. “I want this, Princess. And I want to watch your breath catch and your cheeks turn to flame when I take it.”

Edwina obliged him. Her breath stalled high in her chest, and her nerve endings jangled like discordant bells.

He drew back to look at her, his eyes darkening as he continued to massage her breast. The warmth of his palm spread through her, feeding her nerves little shocks of desire. It was too much. Too exciting, too stimulating,
too close to pain.
Did he know that her nerves and muscles were tightening rhythmically with the pressure of his hand? Did he know he was eliciting stirrings and cravings the likes of which she’d never experienced?

His eyes said he knew everything, every little twitch of desire she felt. His eyes said he was only beginning.

She made a soft sound, nearer a moan than a sigh.

His breathing thickened.

“I need to kiss you. Princess,” he said. “I need to do a lot of things to you.”

Edwina’s stomach dipped as he scooped her up and drew her closer, hooking an arm around her hips. “Are you allowed multiple requests?” she asked. “Is that in the rules?”

“I’m allowed whatever you’ll give me.”

He framed her face almost hungrily, letting his hand follow its contours. As he bent to kiss her, his fingers contracted, and his thumb sank into the flesh of her cheek. “Delicious,” he said, tasting her lips. “You taste of the spring.”

His body was making itself known to Edwina in startling ways. He was sinew and bone and hot, protruding parts. Everything she’d seen was now firmly thrust against her, pressing into her just as she’d fantasized. Male equipment.
Superb
male equipment. Her imagination went wild thinking about what he was going to do with all of it.

The parts he seemed most concerned with at the moment were his lips, and hers. “Kiss me back,” he said, cupping her head and moving his mouth over hers with extraordinary slowness. There was a depth of sensuality in the swaying, drifting friction that Edwina couldn’t resist. It was like being teased and tortured with silk chiffon. The oddest, sweetest yearnings were rising in her, and he seemed to be drawing them up with every drift of his mouth.

She murmured her pleasure and pressed into him, seeking deeper contact. Where there had been trepidation now there was a gentle welling of hunger in her. She was a woman aroused. A woman in physical need ...

He locked her tighter to his body and made a low mesmerizing male sound.

This was all new ground for Edwina. She’d never had a man respond to her as he did. Something shivered in the pit of her stomach. A deep reverberating thrill. The sensation was beautiful and seductive, gathering energy to it like a magnet, draining off strength from other parts of her body. A languorous weakness seeped slowly into her limbs, part welling heat and part physical intoxication. She was high on charmed water. She was drunk on his kisses, dizzy with the taste of him.

Diablo felt a sigh quiver through her lips. She squirmed against him, slick and warm, all legs and arms and naked breasts. The woman was driving him
wild
, and suddenly he knew why. It wasn’t just her pliant body. It was her impetuousness. She had the sexual inhibitions of ten women, and yet the way she blundered through them was irresistible, rushing in where angels feared to tread, surrendering herself in ways that even a more adventurous woman wouldn’t have.

She seemed enraptured with the discovery of her own body, and quite willing to try anything. The combination was explosive, Diablo realized.

He cupped her buttocks with his palms and brought her up against him, an aggressive move that sent a shock wave of desire vibrating through his body. He could feel her delicate muscles tautening under his fingers. She was soft and slick to the touch. All female curves and firm flesh, unbelievably responsive.

“Gracious,” she breathed, breaking away from him. Her eyes searched him, a little wild. “Please—tell me what it is you want,” she implored. “I’ll do it, whatever it is, I promise. Lord, I think I
want to
do it.”

He sank his fingers deeper into her springy flesh and thrust himself against the satin cushion of her belly. “This is what I want,” he said, his jaw clenching. Another laser of desire shot through him, bombarding that hot spot at the base of his body.

“I want to tamper with every inch of you in one sweet, sexy way or another.” His eyes darkened, and his voice went soft and husky as he brushed his lips near her ear and whispered, “And then I want to get into you, Princess ...”

She whimpered plaintively as he began to thrust rhythmically against her. “Deep and tender,” he said. “Just like this. All of me. Into all of you.”

Edwina nearly dissolved in his arms. She felt as fluid and bubbly as the water swirling around her. She couldn’t stop the sounds that stirred in her throat or the fizzy magic in her stomach. He ran his hands up her body to her breasts, cupping them roughly, tenderly, and she melted into him—fragile, submissive, utterly languorous.

It was all Diablo could do not to take her right there in the pool. His mind was torturing him with images of her vibrant body rocking against him, shuddering under his deep thrusts. He could almost hear her crying out in pleasure. His mark was on her body, a symbol of his possession. It was time to stake his claim in a purely physical way. And yet something was blocking him.

He tipped her head back, searching her eyes. She looked so damned vulnerable, the thought of hurting her made him ache. Did she really know what she was doing? Or was he again taking advantage of some deep deprivation she couldn’t control? “What am I going to do with you, Princess? Save you from yourself? Or ruin you?”

It took her a moment to register the question, but once she had, she didn’t seem to have the slightest concern about his noble conflict. “Oh ... I definitely think you should ruin me. In the meantime, can I touch
you
?” she asked. “Is that in the rules?”

Diablo exhaled heavily. “To hell with the rules.”

She glided her palm down the muscles of his back, drifting over his buttocks with a quick caress. Energy surged in his groin, and the impact was more pain than pleasure. He’d been aroused since even before she’d stripped. Now he was agonized. The hell with protecting her, he thought as her curious hand crept nearer and nearer to that wildly sensitive part of his body. His stomach muscles knotted.

She touched him where he hurt most, and he couldn’t suppress a groan. “What are you doing?” he said. “This is supposed to be
your
initiation.”

“Oh, my,” she said, sobering a little as she traced a finger up the length of him. “You really are ... ready.”

“Edwina, you’re making this—”

“Hard?” Her eyes twinkled.

“Difficult.” He breathed a short harsh word as she touched her fingertips around him, slipping them down the length of him like a delicate sheath. It was ludicrous to say he wanted her, an understatement of massive proportions.
He had to have her.
It wasn’t just physical anymore. It was body, mind—maybe even his eternal soul if he had one. Every fragment of his being demanded it.

“Turn, Princess,” he whispered. “Turn and open your legs for me.”

“What?” She couldn’t. Even the idea shocked her. All of Edwina’s dreamy, languid yearnings went silent as she realized what he intended to do.

His eyes flashed a transfixing emerald green, and he turned up the heat a little, kissing her slowly, dipping his tongue into the sheath of her parted lips. “Turn, baby, do it for me. It’s time.”

Time, Edwina thought. He was invoking the bargain they’d made. She had freed the flower, and with it her right to refuse him anything. She stared up at him, only to breathe out a soft shocked word as he reclaimed her breast. The wonder of his touch sent a spear of delight straight through her.

Lord, how could she refuse him anything? She went soft inside when he touched her. She felt plucked at, like the strings of a mellow guitar. His finger strokes vibrated through her, thrumming softly at her nerves. She might have resisted quick hot passion but not this sweet, insistent battering. Not this slow, overpowering seduction of her nerves and senses.

He bent and took her lips, and Edwina could almost hear the poignant strains of music stirring inside her, the low lush riff of a tenor sax, the upswing of a moody clarinet. It was a deep bluesy sound, rich and melancholy in its resonance. She closed her eyes, reveling in it, letting him kiss and nip softly at her lips. And then she heard the wondrously husky voice of her music maker.

“Turn, Edwina.”

She responded to her own name automatically, her body flowing with the gentle demand of his hands. When her back was to him, he pulled her flush up against him, his hands moving over her as slowly and sensually as the water. His arousal pressed into the tender swell of her buttocks, and it could easily have been the most thrilling sensation Edwina had ever felt in her life.

“Ah, Princess,” he said, cupping her breasts, “you couldn’t possibly know how good you feel this way.” He flattened his palm to her belly, massaging gently as he pinned her up against him. Each rhythmic thrust of his hips sent a shudder of delight through Edwina.

She knew exactly how good
he
felt. She was aware of several things at once, all of them breathtakingly erotic. His hands were lightning rods to her nerves, drawing sparks everywhere he touched her. His body was a miracle of masculinity—aggressive, invasive, all thrusting energy. He was hot and muscled against her back. Hot and muscled all the way down to her toes.

A sweet aching need arose in the deepest part of her. Her body was creating its own miracle. Her body wanted what he had, all that heat and muscle, all that superb male equipment. She tightened at the mere thought of it, and the next thrust of his hips set her off like a lighted firecracker. She was taut. She was weak. She hardly knew what to do next. Sighing helplessly, she let her head fall back as he nuzzled her neck.