Crystalfire (9 page)

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Authors: Kate Douglas

BOOK: Crystalfire
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Chapter 7
Taron couldn’t get that phrase out of his head.
The elephant in the parlor.
Unfortunately, it made perfect sense and described the direction of his thoughts exactly. There were so many things he should be thinking of right now, but it was as if his brain had stopped working entirely. As if the only thing he saw, the only thing he could think of, the only thing—
period
—was that gods-be-damned elephant.
Otherwise known as making love to Willow.
How could he imagine something he’d never actually done? How could he know to the very depths of his soul, how wonderful it would feel?
All those jokes about men thinking with their
other
head suddenly made perfect sense. He’d never allowed himself the freedom to consider sex, and as a scholar and philosopher intent on learning, he’d kept all those potential desires entirely under control.
Now that he knew he could turn that control loose, he felt as if he’d freed a beast that might devour him. Hunger gnawed at him, but it wasn’t a need for food that had his cock hard and his balls aching. He’d never even noticed the beast before, never given himself permission to feel, to desire, to give in to the desperate arousal that felt like an uncaged wild thing clawing at his soul. Pressure built, twisting and turning the quiet scholar into something totally alien, something entirely apart from the man he’d always thought himself to be.
Following Willow into the bedroom with her fingers loosely tangled in his, he fought the almost painful need to grab her now, to tear the clothes from her lithe body and take her. It was suddenly so easy, so perfectly natural to imagine her naked, her body warm and inviting, her lips once again kissing his.
The strange thing of it was, his rational self wanted to gaze at her beauty and appreciate the sensuality inherent in her amazing innocence.
The beast wanted none of that. He wanted Willow.
So far, Taron had managed to hang on to his control, but his grasp was tenuous, his ability to keep his wild side caged growing weaker with each step he took.
Just walking behind Willow was killing him. That perfect heart-shaped bottom, the way the denim fit her lush curves and hugged her tiny waist ... the man imagined his hands spanning that waist, his lips against the smooth contours of her flank, the way her warmth would call to him. Hold him close.
The beast thought of sweat and heat, of biting and marking her as his, only his. It wanted the chance to drive deep inside her welcoming body, to bring her to a screaming climax, to take whatever veneer of civilization she’d spun about herself and shred it. He wanted to take her to the very brink of sanity, to make her insane with the pleasure of their joining.
He refused to think of Willow the woman. Willow the one who made him laugh, who’d cooked his breakfast, who teased him and flirted with him and worried about him. No, this was all about sex, about satisfying his curiosity, about finally discovering what the big mystery was all about.
It was all about giving his wilder nature the freedom to take what it wanted. If he let that civilized self in, if the one who truly enjoyed Willow as a woman were allowed to surface, he faced more questions than he could answer. More pain than any man or beast should ever have to endure.
Unendurable pain.
Which left him hungering for her perfect body, aching to spear his hands into the thick fall of blond curls covering her shoulders, wanting to kiss and lick his way over and around her breasts—breasts that curved perfectly beneath the sapphire blue top clinging to her like a second skin.
Those thoughts were not only apropos to the moment, they were safe. At least they were safe for him. The beast would be appeased and Taron could walk away, heart intact. In a way they’d be working as a team—Taron and his wild side, two very separate entities.
His breath was coming in short, choppy gasps and his heart rate sped up with each step he took. He was hard, erect, and aching inside these denim pants. That was something that never happened to a man who valued control over all things.
He made a conscious decision then, and shoved the man aside. There was no need here for the one who followed rules. Hadn’t Willow given him permission to lose control? He hoped so, because it was getting harder to think, to make sense of what he was doing here, alone in this room with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.
Beautiful, sweet, smart, loving, and kind. No. He couldn’t let himself think about all her wonderful qualities. That way led to madness and to something even more dangerous—to love. He was not going there. No way was he risking his heart.
Of course not. It wasn’t necessary.
The beast didn’t have to love. It only wanted satisfaction. Wasn’t it Willow’s suggestion, that they come in here and appease their curiosity—without any declarations of love, without any strings?
Well, he’d never been so curious about anything in his life. Not until Willow had mentioned that gods-be-damned elephant. Not until she’d invited that other side of him out to play. That side was here, now, and he was growing tired of all this foolish internal debate.
The scholar was the one who wouldn’t shut up.
So be quiet, already! Before you screw this up.
This unbelievable opportunity. A chance to make love to a beautiful woman without the risks, without the need to commit, without love. A chance to appease his curiosity.
That’s all this was. All it could ever be.
So get over it. Quit thinking about it. Just think about Willow and what she looks like naked. Think about her breasts and her perfect butt and those long, long legs, and quit worrying about all the rest.
Yeah. Right. He could do this.
She let go of his hand, walked across the room and paused beside the bed. Then she turned her head, glanced over her shoulder and grinned at him, and it was so damned obvious she didn’t have a clue what was going on inside his head, what was happening to the civilized side of the man she knew.
She folded her arms over her chest, but her smile never wavered. “I have no idea what comes next, though I imagine it has something to do with taking off our clothes.”
He couldn’t respond, couldn’t make his voice work the way it should. He was afraid if he tried to speak, all that would come out was a snarl. He felt like someone had tied a band around his body and pulled it tight. His lungs couldn’t expand, his heart couldn’t beat, and if his cock got any harder, the thing was going to explode.
The beast loved this. The scholar was very confused. He’d lived a life of control, an ascetic existence as the scholar he thought himself to be. A philosopher didn’t allow his body to control his mind. No, a Lemurian philosopher, a student of the mind, controlled his body. Needs and desires were contained, emotions held in reserve for the more powerful philosophical debates and arguments one was expected to participate in.
The beast practically snarled.
Forget philosophy
. He had absolutely no desire to debate anything. There was no argument here. Not now. Willow wanted this. The wild side of Taron wanted this. Hell, even the scholar wanted to get laid.
Willow took a step closer. Her long, slim fingers slid over his chest. He sucked in a breath. Didn’t know what to do with his hands. How to rein in the unbelievable lust that felt like an untamed beast trying to get free.
She reached for the top button on his shirt and slipped it through the hole and he stopped breathing. Then she went to the next one, and the next, while his heart stuttered in his chest. He sucked in a jagged breath, and then another, shivering with blind and desperate need.
He shed all semblance of control as easily as he shed his clothing. When she finished undoing the final button and tugged his shirt out of his pants, he shoved it off his shoulders and grabbed both of her wrists. “Let me,” he said, amazed his voice actually sounded almost normal.
She looked at him with wide, blue eyes. Her lips parted and he sensed a combination of fear and arousal in her, one beating at the other, as if she had no idea what creature he’d become. He gentled his grasp and turned her wrists free, slipped his hands beneath her blue shirt and felt the warmth of skin like silk beneath the cotton. Then he wrapped his hands around her torso and rubbed his thumbs along the line of her lower ribs.
He ached with wanting her, with the strength it took to touch her gently. Lust bludgeoned his mind, but his hands touched her with feather-light caresses.
She leaned close and kissed him. Soft, warm lips brushed over his and he shivered as desire flamed out of control. Groaning against her mouth, he fought his nature and forced himself to move slowly as he cautiously peeled the tightly fitted shirt off her body.
He bared her breasts and once again forgot to breathe. Willow gazed at him for so long he almost forgot what he was doing. Wasn’t staring at her perfect breasts the prize? A shiver ran up his spine and snapped his brain into gear. He finished undressing her then, tugging the shirt up and over her head.
She slipped her arms free as he held onto the tank top. Then she shook her head, sending her loose curls tumbling all about her shoulders. Taron reached up, searching through her tousled hair like a blind man, using his fingers to separate the curls, but his fingers got sidetracked in all that gorgeous hair and his attention wandered as he fell into yet another sensual pleasure he’d never imagined. Lost in the tangles and springy curls, he looked down and stared at her breasts, at the smooth, round curves, the dark nipples with their pebbled tips standing so erect. His breath caught.
Too much. It was all too much, and yet he knew it would never be enough. He wasn’t certain what made him lean forward and draw the nipple over her heart between his lips, but it was the most natural thing in the world to suckle her like a babe, to use his tongue to tease the very tip, to nibble with the sharp edges of his teeth.
Willow arched against him, pushing her breast against his mouth. All that silky, warm skin, and he wanted to bury himself in her warmth, taste every inch of her body, find the softest places, the warmest. He read her body language with instincts he’d never tapped, knew she told him with her sighs and the soft twists bringing her closer, how much she loved what he did to her. And for the first time in his long, barren life, he, a man of learning and study, a man who treasured knowledge of all kinds, had absolutely no practical idea of how to proceed.
No instructions, no training ... nothing but his most basic animal instincts—the ones he’d locked away forever, the same instincts now telling him to suckle her breasts, to kiss her full lips, to touch her glorious body and make love to her.
He thought he’d sent the scholar away, but once again he surfaced. The beast practically snarled. Didn’t that idiot realize how much better it was to shut down that part of his mind, the part that wanted to question Willow’s reactions and his own desires? Who wanted the guy around who would stop in the midst of a kiss to study the effect it had on his heart rate, or hesitate before touching her body in a most intimate manner?
Thank the gods the animal in him still existed. This was not a time to question what might or might not be seemly, and that thought alone almost brought the beast to laughter. There was nothing seemly about sex. It was the male animal at its most primitive level, and Taron’s beast was discovering just how much it loved those base desires.
Even so, animal or man, he was learning as he went. Remembering what Willow seemed to like best, what worked and what didn’t.
She was tall, though not nearly as tall as Taron. The height difference made it awkward. Standing here, leaning down to suckle her breasts, made it utterly impossible to lick and kiss and taste those other places calling to him. At least that was easy enough to remedy. He turned her free, slipped his hands beneath her shoulders and thighs, picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, and stretched her out on the bed.
She smiled up at him, all lazy and knowing, and his beast wanted to laugh. She still had no idea what she’d unleashed, still thought she knew everything she needed to know, though how she could possibly think she knew more about the act of sex than he did made no sense. None at all.
Didn’t she understand basic animal instincts? So far, he was almost positive she didn’t recognize the other side of him, the one who was making love to her.
Of course, women made no sense to him, either. They never had, so why the nine hells did he suddenly expect to understand Willow? The concept of actually figuring her out almost had him laughing out loud as he reached for the fastener on her pants and, after a moment fumbling with the unfamiliar equipment, managed to unsnap and unzip her jeans.
Even the beast had trouble with things like zippers and snaps. Dear gods, but he was so far over the top he could hardly function. That damned adult kept popping back into his mind, the one who still needed to figure out what was going on here, while the one who was getting ready to crawl on top of Willow and bury himself deep inside would rather figure it all out by touch.
Still, it probably wasn’t a good idea to laugh at a woman when you were busy trying to undress her. At least her tight pants slipped off easier than he’d expected, and laughter was the last thing on his mind when he finally tugged them over her feet and realized there was nothing left to hide her but a tiny scrap of lace.

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