He's A Magic Man (The Children of Merlin) (21 page)

“That goes triple for me.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

She glanced down and even in this light she could see the bulge between his legs.

“I
should
apologize for that. But I don’t want to.” Both hands were at her face now, one smoothing the washcloth over her cheek, the other thumb now just caressing her cheek. Drew was soaked between her legs and the feel of the rough pad of his thumb was so acute she thought she’d be able to count the ridges in his thumbprint.
If she could remember how to count.
The room swirled with candlelight, and his scent, and the rain pounding on the roof until rational thought seemed not only impossible
but
undesirable. Who would want to think clearly now? The moment was what counted and this moment would never come again.

His hands slid behind her neck and he pulled her gently toward him, brushing her forehead with his lips as if seeing whether that much touching was safe or whether they would both go up in flames. She was close to it.

Then he kissed her eyelids, closing them, and she was lost in the sensation of inevitability. By the time his lips touched hers, she knew that she wasn’t strong enough to resist the chance to experience this ... aliveness?
whatever
it was ... with the one she would have been destined to spend her whole life with, if not for Alice. His tongue opened her mouth and he swirled around it as she licked him in response. He needed no encouragement to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, with a raw cry, he pulled away. She felt like she’d been slapped.

He stood and rubbed a shaking hand across his mouth, chest heaving. Was he trying to wipe her kiss away? Drew felt her eyes widen in horror. He looked away, into the mirror maybe, but he wasn’t seeing anything. His eyes were blank.

She guessed he was strong enough to resist. And she bet she knew why. Alice.

*****

Dowser wanted nothing more than to bury himself in Drew Tremaine.
Bastard that he was.
He was apparently willing to throw over everything his love with Alice had meant for the overwhelming lust he felt for Drew. Probably brought on by finally coming out of the haze of alcohol. He’d probably have gone for the first woman in sight, whether she was a hooker or somebody’s mother. Alice didn’t deserve such betrayal. And Drew didn’t deserve to be just the closest object to hand. How would she feel tomorrow morning?

His reflection disgusted him. The rattle of the rain on the roof, the feel of Drew’s lips still on his, the flickering candlelight, all seemed to cascade over him in vibrations of sensory input. He could hardly think. And he had to think about Alice. He couldn’t betray the one good thing in his life. His breathing was labored.

And then his breath stilled. Alice. He could practically feel her. He couldn’t see her, not like in his dreams. The room didn’t turn smoky. But if he listened hard enough....

My poor Michael,
he seemed to hear her say.
Don’t you like her?

I damn well more than like her.
It was all he could do not to shout out loud.
That’s the problem. Worthless,
his mind whispered to him, or was that Alice?
Failed you.

You are such a giving man. Don’t lose that.

This is just selfish, Dowser,
he told himself. Or he might be telling Alice.

Look at her, Michael. It wouldn’t be selfish.

He turned to look at Drew, and she had such a forlorn expression her face that he wanted to slit his wrists. Or find some rum. He’d done that. He’d just rejected her, just like the asshole college professor who made her feel worthless and small. He might have to fly out to LA and show that guy some tricks they’d learned in the Force about how to withstand interrogation with torture. The asshole would need a lot of practice.

Wait. Had Alice meant that Drew needed emotional healing? Alice would know.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. His voice was hoarse.

Drew gathered
herself
and managed a half smile that obviously cost her. “Don’t be. We both just got carried away.”

He so admired that courage. “I shouldn’t do this....” he began. Great. That would make her feel worse.

“Of course not....” She pushed herself up.

“But I want to.” And he did. Not just because his body wanted her
but
because he wanted to give Drew what she needed. She deserved tenderness and passion, and a man who was worthy of her. He couldn’t give her that, but he was the only one here, and at least he could make her feel special for one night. Alice seemed to think she needed that. He’d deal with tomorrow later. “Do you think...?”

“Oh, no.” She looked down, fussing with the tie to her satiny robe. “You were right.”

How the hell could he get back to the place where he wouldn’t see that look of hurt and horror on her face any more? “Drew, I need you.” He stepped into her, and this close all the sweet fresh scent of rain in her hair mingled with the desire he could still smell on her. “Please.”

Somehow he’d stumbled on the right way in, because he saw her resolve melt. He took her in his arms and kissed her, hard this time, so as to leave no question in her mind about how badly he wanted her. He pulled her in against his erection. Instead of gasping and pulling away in dismay, she made a small sound in her throat and wiggled her hips against it.

It was all over.

He felt a growl growing deep inside him as he swept her up in his arms. The shower curtain rod fell into the tub, taking the curtain with it. He banged the bathroom door open with his foot and carried her over to the bed.

*****

Drew knew she should be stronger. After his obvious struggle with himself, he’d probably feel guilty about this tomorrow. But she wasn’t stronger. He needed this. He said so. He needed to feel alive, and she just happened to be here. There was no question that she needed him. So she clung to his shoulders and felt the heat of him through her robe as he carried her to the bed. Another candle flickered on the little chest. He laid her down and pulled open her robe. His exhale made the alive feeling come rushing back. She arched a little. She couldn’t help it.

“Drew,” he murmured and leaned in, kissing her collarbone as he lay beside her. He worked his way down to her breasts. “Drew.” She ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling the ridges of his scars, and her palms burned. He was nibbling his way around her breasts to her nipples, when he suddenly pushed up. “Do the scars bother you? I could put on a shirt.”

“Don’t you dare!
”
That sounded callous. “I’m just sorry you were hurt so badly.”

“Long time ago,” he murmured, returning to her breasts. “Drew….”

She loved the way he murmured her name. She’d like to reciprocate, but.... She tilted his head up and kissed him, lightly. “I need something from you.”

“Anything.” His eyes were black pools in the candlelight as he hung over her on one elbow. Did he mean it? No. Large parts of him were locked away from her still.

She gave him a small smile and a shrug. “I just can’t make love to a man named Dowser. Do you want Michelangelo? Mike? Michael? Angelo? Angel?” That might be appropriate. Or maybe “Devil.” “Your choice.”

She saw him struggle. “Michael.” It was almost a whisper. And because it was a struggle for him to say it, she knew that Michael was what Alice had called him. That meant he had told her something that cost him to reveal.

“Michael.” She smiled. “Take off your pants.”

*****

“Nice talk,” he said. But he got up on his knees and pulled them down. He heard her intake of breath as she saw his erection. Every man craved a reaction like that. He was harder than he could ever remember being, his cock jutting upwards. She was beautiful in the candlelight, her pale skin only slightly paler over her full breasts and at the triangle between her hips. He’d bet her bikini was red. Cherry red.
Or maybe stoplight green, or midnight blue.
Drew should always wear vibrant colors. She was so alive she’d dragged him back from living death.

Wait. Maybe she gasped because she thought he’d be too big for her. She had looked a little shocked. And God knew he was bigger than most. But then her eyes got an avaricious gleam in them that made him proud. She reached to touch him.

He tried to control his own gasp. Her touch felt so good it bordered on pain. He had to have her
now
. He wanted to push into her soft flesh and feel her slick walls squeeze him. The need was ramping up into something like compulsion.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper as she ran her graceful fingers down his shaft. She flicked the underside with her thumb and he thought he would faint.

“God, Drew,” he breathed. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Only if you don’t kill me first.”

He fumbled his sweatpants off over his knees and ankles, feeling awkward, and then he lay back down beside her. Much as he wanted to be thrusting inside her, he was not going to act like a jackass. Not if he could help it.
Drew deserved respect
,
pleasure
. And if she was as needy as he was, he was going to make sure she got that pleasure multiple times tonight. She turned into him, running her hand over his shoulder and down over his biceps. He could smell her desire even over the faint remainder of the spicy perfume she’d worn earlier. It was the perfect scent. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her ear. How delicate it was. Then down her neck. He felt her shiver with the goose bumps he gave her. She threw her head back and there was that elegant throat that had been driving him wild for the past four days. He kissed it and licked it. He could feel her moan through his lips.

His hand ran over her shoulder and down to her hip, and then over the exquisite roundness of her bottom. Her hand was doing the same. The feel of her stroking his hip and reaching for his butt.... He started to lose his focus. His cock throbbed with a will of its own.

Damn it, man. This is about her pleasure. Not yours. You’re going to make her feel like she’s the most important woman in the world.

Maybe she was.

He bent his head.

*****

He was sucking her breasts.
First one and then the other.
Drew was having trouble breathing. Some magical current was cycling between her nipples and her throbbing clitoris, and she might just go mad at any moment. It was hard to think.

But she had to keep some kind of tether, because she wanted this to be about him. He probably hadn’t felt anything in a while except alcoholic stupor. She wanted this to be a “welcome back to the world” fuck. And that meant it had to be good.

She reached down past his straining shaft and cupped his balls. He seemed to like that. She could feel his moan on her breasts. He lapped at a nipple. She could hardly breathe at all. But she rubbed the two stones gently against each other inside their sack. He was tight and high with need. She went even farther back with her middle fingers and pressed them against the place just behind his balls. Then she rubbed it in small circles.

“God, Drew,” he murmured, his voice as tight as his sack. “Let me taste you.” He made as if to move downward. That would be great. But she just couldn’t wait any longer.

“I ... I really need you in me,” she croaked.

*****

He looked up to see if she really meant it. Oh, yeah. She meant it. And she didn’t have to ask twice. He rolled her gently over to her back. She opened her thighs. How he was going to make this last longer than five seconds he wasn’t sure. But he was damn well going to try.

He held his cock at her entrance while he braced himself on one elbow. She wasn’t a virgin. She’d probably done it with that professor creep. He thanked God for that. He’d hate to be trying to get a cock the size of his in a frightened virgin. But he still had to go slow.

Some
control would be nice, jerk-off.
He pushed his cock head in just an inch or so and rocked a little. Drew was panting. She clutched his shoulders and tried to arch up so her breasts would scrape his chest. Damn, that was sexy. Not half as sexy as when she wrapped those long, pale legs around his waist and pulled him into her. His cock slid in. Tight and slick, but it fit, and then he was moving in and out, hilt to tip and back and she was writhing beneath him, and....

He’d better find a way to slow this down.

He pulled out and reached down to rub his slick tip against her clitoris. A little, breathy cry escaped her. That was good.
Very good.
He kept at it. He knew her first orgasm would be sharper if he wasn’t inside her. He bent and suckled at one breast, all the while rubbing her with his shaft. Her moans cycled up and he knew she was close. He redoubled his efforts, using his hand now to guide his cock, and watched in satisfaction as she bucked against him. She wanted more. He felt her shudder as her body arched. Her moans became a shriek. Her hands contracted on his shoulders, nails digging in. He almost came right there, watching her come. It went on, and on. She might just be cascading into orgasm after orgasm. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.