Authors: Kristen Ashley
Tags: #romance, #reincarnation, #ghosts, #magic, #witches, #contemporary romance
She didn’t even try to be
gentle. She was primed and ready for him.
Now.
Her mouth opened, as did his,
her tongue darted inside and she moaned just tasting him.
Goddess, even first thing
in the morning, just like always, Colin tasted
divine
.
He, to her extreme pleasure,
immediately deepened the kiss
Tearing her mouth away, she
realised his hands had settled on her waist. She rained kisses on
his eyes, his cheeks, sliding her tongue down the column of his
throat to dip it into the space between his jutting collar bones.
She felt his hands slide up her sides then in to her back then they
separated, one going up between her shoulder blades, one down to
cup her bottom, all the while scorching a lazy trail of fire.
She dragged her lips down his
chest then she ran her teeth across his nipple while one of her
hands went between their bodies to wrap around him and she was
thrilled beyond rationality that he was already hard.
She heard his sharp intake of
breath.
“Sibyl,” this was a groan but
she was beyond responding.
She lurched up, releasing him
and running her fingers down his arm, pulling it away from her
until she found his hand and as she did she kissed him, again
ravenous. She wanted to devour him, her body was on fire for him,
and she kissed him hard and hungry as she pressed his hand between
her legs, whimpering as his fingers slid against her wet, sensitive
flesh.
“I want you, Colin,” she
whispered against his mouth, “now.”
The minute he touched her
wetness, he understood. Then she watched his lips form a deeply
satisfied, even smug, smile. While they did this, he slid a finger
inside her.
“Thanks be to the goddess,” she
breathed and closed her eyes in rapture as his finger filled
her.
At her words, the finger
disappeared and he flipped her on her back in one smooth move.
Parting her legs expertly, Colin didn’t hesitate, he drove into
her.
Sibyl cried out at the ecstasy
of it.
Even though it had been only
minutes since they started, it felt like she’d waited an eternity
for him. She lifted her hips to receive his thrusts as she wrapped
her arms about his waist, holding onto his tight, muscled behind
for dear life, her nails digging in. She buried her face in his
neck, tasting him there while one of his arms curled around the top
of her head, giving him leverage to pound into her, harder and
deeper.
It was glorious.
“Yes,” she purred in his ear.
“Harder.” She nipped him there and her hips lifted to meet every
thrust, each one deeper, sending spirals of desire shooting through
her.
He stopped thrusting and
started grinding and she caught her breath, ready, right there.
She knew it was going to
happen, she knew it was going to be intense, beautiful, like always
with Colin, and, right before she exploded, she whispered
reverently, “Goddess, Colin, you fit me… perfectly.”
Then she gasped, arched her
neck and cried out as everything in the world but the space where
their bodies joined was obliterated and she felt the shudders of
pleasure course through her with pure, sweet violence.
So consumed was she in her own
climax, she missed his but vaguely noted he’d wrapped her legs
around his waist in his final moments.
After they both came down,
still deep inside her, Colin gave her his weight and both of them
lay panting and speechless.
Finally, he came up on his
forearms and looked down at her.
“That’s quite a way to combat a
morning mood.” His voice was low, sexy and rough with residual
desire and his handsome face was soft with approval.
As the last waves of pleasure
subsided, she felt them immediately replaced with acute
embarrassment.
What
on earth
was she
thinking?
More to the point, what
was she
doing?
She’d just attacked him!
She closed her eyes and
turned her face away at the same time she tried to push him off by
pressing against his chest. It was one thing for him to buy her
body and an entirely other thing for her to attack
his
.
Goddess, she was a raving
wanton! What must he think?
She needed to escape.
She pressed against his chest
harder.
He didn’t move.
“Sibyl,” he called.
“Colin,” she said to the wall,
her eyes still closed, “Please get off me.”
He still didn’t move.
“Sibyl, look at me,” he
demanded.
She shook her head but his hand
came to her face and forced her to do as he said.
“Open your eyes,” he
ordered.
She did and hers were filled
with rebellion mixed with a good dose of humiliation.
“What just happened?” he seemed
to see only the rebellion and she knew this because his voice was
still low, sexy and rough but his face was no longer soft with
approval but his eyes were intense with scrutiny.
“
You were
touching
me,” she explained, her tone accusing, deciding her best
course of action was to place blame quite squarely on his very
broad shoulders.
“Touching you, yes, seducing
you, no. What just happened?”
She shook her head.
“Sibyl,” he was using his
smooth, even voice that meant he was close to losing his cool.
“I told you, you were touching
me,” she repeated.
He waited but the expression on
the hard planes of his face told her it wasn’t patiently.
Sibyl, again, obviously had no
choice but to give him what he wanted.
“In a very sensitive spot,” she
admitted reluctantly.
At her words, he looked
startled. She should have been pleased at that but instead she felt
all the more embarrassed.
“
A
very
sensitive spot,”
she stressed.
He simply stared at her but the
intensity in his eyes was quickly fading to something much less
hard and far warmer.
“I get somewhat,” she
hesitated, fighting for the right words, “Out-of-control if someone
touches me there for any length of time.”
“Does this happen often?”
Completely gone was the intensity and in its place was something
entirely satisfied and more than a touch amused.
“
Never quite like this,”
she confessed, his hand on her face had relaxed and she looked away
again. “But no one else had done it so,” she hated to say it but
there it was, “
well
.”
He kissed the exposed line of
her throat (but not before, out of the corner of her eyes, she
caught sight of his mouth twitching) and he murmured against her
skin, “I’ll have to remember that.”
“I shouldn’t have told
you.”
He lifted his head and,
there it was, right there in front of her, his lips
were
twitching. “You don’t think I would have discovered it
eventually?”
“No one else has,” she informed
him, straightening her head to look at him again.
And that was when she saw
his eyes start dancing with hilarity, absolutely
dancing
.
At that look she lost all embarrassment and became instantly
grumpy.
“Then they weren’t very good at
it, I’d already suspected. You jump and moan every time I touch you
there,” Colin told her.
Sibyl grunted with
ill-humour.
“Or lift your ass to meet my
hand,” he continued informatively. “I was already intrigued.”
“Thanks Colin,” she gritted
between her teeth. “You can stop talking now. I think I have the
picture.”
He grinned at her before his
head dropped to nuzzle her neck.
Then he suggested, “Let’s talk
about your dream now, shall we?”
Her body went rigid.
She could
not
, under
any circumstances, tell him about her dream.
She could provide an entire
list, even in writing (if he were to require) of every sensitive
spot on her body (behind her ears, the skin underneath her breasts,
and so on).
But she could not tell him
about her dream. She could not tell him she’d seen him in her
subconscious before she’d ever even met him. He’d think she’d lost
her mind.
This meant she was going to
have to lie to him.
And Sibyl hated lying. It
wasn’t a very nice thing to do and she wasn’t at all good at it.
One could get caught up in lies but Sibyl
always
got caught up in
them. She was too absentminded to remember what she’d said, she
always had been.
“It was nothing,” she muttered,
trying to blow it off.
“It was enough for you to kick
me, rather forcefully, in the shin and drive you from the bed and
the across the room.”
Her eyes rounded at this news.
“I kicked you?”
Colin nodded.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Surprised me, I was dead
asleep when it happened.”
Without her volition, her hand
went to rest on his waist.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly
and she meant it.
His body became quite still as
he watched her face. He seemed captivated by something there, so
much so he was lost in whatever it was.
“Colin?” His body jerked at her
calling his name and his eyes cleared.
“Tell me about it,” he
commanded, his voice now strangely husky.
“What?” she asked.
“The dream,” he persisted,
rather annoyingly, Sibyl thought.
“I said it was nothing.”
“Tell me,” he urged.
“I’d rather not. I don’t want
to think about it,” she demurred, beginning to get panicky.
And anyway, why, exactly, did
he want to know so badly?
“Sibyl, tell me.” The huskiness
had vanished and he was lapsing into his smooth, angry voice again
and she decided he was not going to let it go.
So she gave in, in a way. “I’ve
had it before. It’s just… not nice.”
“Yes?” he prompted.
“In it, I’m sleeping.” Her mind
was racing, she was going to have to make something up and decided,
in case it came up in the future, or she dreamed it again and
kicked him or hurt him in some other way (which she hoped she never
did, indeed, she hoped never to have the awful dream again), she
would remember what she said. “Peacefully, alone… I mean, by
myself, sleeping by myself… all alone…”
“Go on,” he prompted when she’d
trailed off, his eyes assessing. “You were alone, by yourself,
sleeping.”
Sibyl nodded. “Then someone, or
it feels like more than one person, I never see them, they don’t
have faces, drags me out of bed and they slit my throat. That’s
it.”
“Christ,” he swore immediately
after she finished speaking, dropping to his side and taking her
with him. Once there, he pulled her deep into his body and
repeated, “Christ.”
She tipped her head back
to look at him, feeling guilty at her white lie and somewhat
surprised (in a funny, happy way) at his reaction. He seemed so
concerned, it was almost touching (well, it was actually
very
touching but she didn’t want to consider that).
He dipped his chin to look at
her.
“
Last night, you touched
and kissed
my
throat. Why?”
Oh goddess, she’d forgotten
she’d done that.
“
I don’t know,” she
fibbed for she bloody well
did
know. “Maybe just a
spontaneous reaction. I was kind of out of it at the
time.”
He was watching her
closely,
very
closely and she was fairly certain he knew she
was lying. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out, she was
the
worst
liar.
“That’s all?” he asked, his
voice showing his doubt.
She thought it best not to
utter another word so she nodded.
He seemed to decide to let it
go and tucked her head under his chin as his hands roamed her back.
This she found soothing, even though she still felt guilty for
lying to him.
“Do you want breakfast?” she
asked against his throat, wishing to be on another subject.
“What?” he queried
distractedly.
“
Breakfast,” she forced
her head back and he again dipped his chin to look at her. She
noticed he looked lost in thought and she explained teasingly, “You
know, the first meal of the day. The most important meal of the
day. Breaking your fast. The French call it
petit dejeuner
. The
Spanish call it
desayuno
.”
He awarded her one of his
fabulous grins and, at the sight of it, Sibyl felt her entire body
relax and warm.
“I know what breakfast is,” he
told her, his voice low and effective.
“Would you like some?”
“I’ve got to take a shower and
get to the office.”
For some reason, Colin’s
announcement made Sibyl feel a vague sense of disappointment.
Well, if she was honest,
not all that vague. It was more like a
keen
sense of
disappointment.
She hid it by pushing her face
into his throat again and then she worked with every ounce of
strength in her to push the disappointment aside.
This, she had to
remember, was a
temporary
arrangement. He’d paid
for this, paid for
her
.
This was not boyfriend and
girlfriend having a morning quickie and an affectionate chat.
This was not that
at all
.