Of Alliance and Rebellion (21 page)

She shook her head and took in a huge, shuddering breath. “I cannot do this casually anymore,” she whispered. “I find I am not curious any longer.” Her breath left her just as shakily as it had entered her. “I am just sad.”

And then, God help him, an actual
tear
hit the finger that was propping up her chin.

“Oh, no,” he breathed. “No. You can’t, Ana.” He felt as though someone had pitched a bowling ball at his stomach. He thumbed away another tear and threaded his fingers through her hair to cup her cheek.

“Everything I almost had is gone, and everything I
could
have with you we both deny ourselves.” She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “I am just so
tired
.”

More of those tears spilled over from her eyes, and Max was undone. He pulled her into his arms, stroking her wings while winding himself around her, and tucked her face into his neck. “Okay, pretty baby. Okay,” he muttered to her, not knowing what he was offering or—God help him—agreeing to.

“
Why
is my touch so abhorrent to you?” she asked in a near wail.

This
. This was why he was an asshole. His stupid distance rule had driven her to the point of tears. And he would bet his life that nothing had managed to wrench such a reaction from her
ever
. He felt his well-laid plans to keep away from her crumble into dust along with his theory that he was anything but a gigantic fool.

Did he think he was maintaining distance? She was here in his arms, crying into his neck. And he’d brought her pleasure with his hand, as she had done to him.

What distance
?

With half a mind that he couldn’t believe what he was about to do, and the other half more than eager to get on with it, Max drew away from his angel slightly. He gathered her hands in his. “I don’t know why anyone would want to touch me,” he said. “But if it’s truly what you want, I’m an idiot to deny you.”

Finally,
finally
, she raised her eyes to his.
Blue heat
. The irrational thought filtered through his mind. Her eyes were simultaneously hot and cold, but they were all blue—no black or gold in sight.
She
was here with him, not some unthinking version of Anahita.

Unable to look away from those eyes, he raised their hands together and, after only a slight hesitation, pressed her palms to his chest.

She sucked in a breath, and he dimly thought he heard himself do the same. Even through the fabric of his shirt, her touch was life-altering. He spread his hands across the backs of hers and pressed them further into his pecs, rubbing his fingers across hers while doing so. Now that he’d decided to break the no-touching rule, he seemed ready to do so with a vengeance. Since she could not seem to do anything but gaze into his eyes with shock-widened ones of her own, Max gripped her hands a little tighter and moved both of her palms in a small circle.

His eyes slid closed momentarily, and all of his breath left him in a whoosh.

God.
To think he’d wasted time without her hands upon him. “Ana,” he murmured, opening his eyes once more. She was no longer looking at his face. Her eyes were zeroed in on where their hands intertwined and pressed against Max’s body.

With a convulsive swallow, Max relinquished his hold on her. His hands returned to his sides, and he watched the top of her head to see what her next move would be.

With her right hand, she stroked his chest, running the palm across the pads of muscle until it ran into her other hand, and then passing it back.

Max’s eyelids grew heavy, and he sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite on, worried that he would grab her or scare her in some way with the intensity of the reaction that was brewing inside of him.

His erection, which had gone away upon finding that he was in arousal
alone
, was now back with a vengeance. It was trapped painfully in his pant leg and seemed to be begging to be the next thing Anahita touched in silent but insistent throbs.

Her hands trailed down his chest, fingers brushing over his nipples, and a quick burst of air from Max’s mouth stirred Anahita’s curls. Her head shot up once more, her eyes finding his and bearing a wary question. Her lips parted; his gaze focused in on the tip of her pink tongue. She hesitantly stroked his nipples with her fingertips again, and when this time Max couldn’t contain a groan, he felt confidence pour from her.

“So sensitive,” she whispered, licking her bottom lip.

Max clenched his fists. He wanted that lip in
his
mouth. He wanted
his
tongue licking it.

She pinched both of his nipples between fingers and thumbs, and Max was done. “Fuck,
Ana
,” he moaned. His hands launched from his sides and grabbed her hips, pulling her in. With their heights so evenly matched, his erection ground against her mound, and he could
feel
her heat. She was burning up. “Oh, God,” he whispered, thrusting his hips forward to come into better contact with her. “I want you so bad, I can hardly breathe, Ana.”

Her breathing hitched and then returned at a quicker rate. “Want?” she asked breathlessly. “What do you want?”

“
You
. Naked and spread out underneath me.” His hands wandered the curve of her hips until he was able to palm her ass. He thrust against her again, his cock grinding in exquisite torture, and at the same time, he used his grip on her ass to thrust her lower body into his. Her eyes widened and her breathing increased even more. “I want to be inside you. God, Ana,” he said, feeling frantic and as though he were going to burst into a million pieces from frustration. “I can’t—”

Anahita whimpered, cutting Max off. Was that the sound she’d make as he entered her and began to move inside her as deeply as he could? Her hands fisted in his shirt, and she began pulling on it almost fretfully. “Skin,” she breathed. “I need to touch you.” She began pulling his shirt up. “Max,” she pleaded.

He pulled his hands from her firm ass only long enough to reach behind his shoulders and haul his shirt up and over his head. He tossed it toward the sofa, and then reached for her again, pulling her into his arms and palming her rear end to pull her into another thrust.

She gasped. “Your body,” she whispered.

Max paused mid-thrust, alarm shooting through him until he noticed that her eyes were
caressing
his torso, not wide and fixed with disgust. They were tracing every line and ridge of muscle Max possessed. She moaned and raised her hands.

Her palms hovered over his pecs, and Max found himself holding his breath. When her hands finally landed over his nipples and he felt her skin upon his for the first time, a shudder wracked his body. “Touch me,” he begged. “Touch me everywhere.” He tried to catch his breath, but every muscle—lungs included—in his body was frozen. “Ana,” he said, her name a prayer.

“Everywhere,” she repeated. “Yes.” She traced her fingers along one of the ridges of his abdomen and then followed the center divide down to his pants. She began to work his open fly even more apart, and Max felt something in his world shift. She was unclothing him—would soon have him…

“Pretty angel,” he whispered. “If you take off my pants, I’ll be naked.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

He groaned. “Ana, hold on.” He placed a hand over hers to still her movements, though it took all of his willpower to do so. “Baby, if I’m naked, I’m going to lose my control with you.”

She flicked his hands away. “That had better be a promise,” she said, returning to her work and wrestling his pants wide open.

As her words registered with his lust-ridden brain, Max realized they were at the point of no return, and he had no intention of turning back. With one more try, he said, “Be very sure, Ana, because I can’t handle it if you ask me to stop. It will destroy—I
will
stop, of course—but, Ana—”

She stilled and laid a finger across his lips. “Max,” she said softly, looking into his eyes. “I want
you
. I do not want you to stop. I want to touch you with my hands—with my body—until we are both sated.”

Max’s mouth went dry.
Sated
. An image of them intertwined, sweaty, and breathless floated through his mind, and he knew
sated
was going to be an elusive concept. He would always want more of her.

She was still looking into his eyes, and he got the impression that she was waiting for some sort of acknowledgement—maybe even permission—from him. One of her hands was fisted on the waistband of his pants.

Knowing he was changing things forever, he gave one curt nod. She smiled up at him. She pulled her finger from his lips and, with both hands, worked his pants down his hips.

They both watched as more of his skin was revealed. With his cock pinned the way it was, it took a little more time than normal for that part of him to make an appearance, but when it did, she paused. With an index finger, she traced the indention at the point where his erection met his body, and Max’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head.

He hummed from between closed lips, and she repeated the movement.

He needed his pants off.
Now
. “Ana, please,” he begged. “The rest of the way.”

He could see the corners of her mouth tip up, but blessedly, she grabbed his pants once more and worked them down to the middle of his thighs. As soon as his erection was free, it sprang to attention between them, and she gasped.

He bent at the waist a little to lay his hands over hers where they were still knotted in the fabric of his pants, hoping in some way to garner what she was thinking and to offer reassurance if she was panicked.

She stared at his cock so long that Max actually grew uncomfortable. “Ana,” he said, squeezing her hands. “My eyes are up here, pretty baby.”

When she still stared, he reached for her chin and prompted her gaze upward. It clashed with his. Her eyes were wide. Max swallowed, and put the question out there. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

She did not nod. She didn’t have to. She was a fucking angel for Christ’s sake. They probably didn’t sleep around.

He reached up with his thumb and stroked her bottom lip. “Does the sight of my—does it ... scare you?” he asked. He held his breath.

“My reaction to it scares me,” she whispered.

Max clenched his teeth, preparing to pull his pants aright again. But she wasn’t done.

“I want to do so many things to it,” she murmured, running her fingers up and down the front of his thighs. Goosebumps lined his legs, and his cock jerked.

“What, pretty baby?” he rasped. “What do you want to do to it?”

Her eyes darted away. “It is probably wicked.”

Oh, he hoped so. He pinched her chin until she looked back at him. “We’re done with limits,” he said to her fervently. “You want to do something to me, you do it. Standing permission, Ana, you hear me? Nothing is off limits, and nothing is embarrassing. Not between us. That’s over.”

“I can ... touch it with my t-tongue?”

Holy God
. A fine tremor set into his legs, and he reached out and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair and holding on for dear life so he wouldn’t hit the floor. “Any damn time of the day,” he said, his voice a husky rumble.

Her hands caressed his back, her nails biting the skin over his shoulder blades just right as she dug her fingertips into him. “It is very pretty,” she muttered. “That part of you. I ... like it very much.”

His eyes slid closed, and he tightened his hold on her body. She was wrecking him here. “It likes you very much, too,” he said. “You have no idea.”

She began to lower, trying to go to her knees. He pulled back and gripped her by the elbows to keep her close.

“I want to—”

“I know you do,” he cut her off. “But, I…” His eyes roved her face—her wide-open eyes, her parted lips, the blush that tinted her cheeks. He felt himself slipping into something with her that was powerful and lasting. “Ana, if I don’t get to see your body, too, I’m not going to make it here,” he said.

A wide grin split her face. “Truly?” she asked.

He brushed the back of his finger down her cheek. “Truly.” Her eyes sparkled, and then she stepped away from him slightly. She reached down, grabbed two handfuls of angel robe, and pulled it up and over her head. His jaw dropped as her robe floated to the floor. “You really don’t have any embarrassment, do you?” he croaked.

In his peripheral vision, he saw her cock her head to the side, but he was too focused on the body she’d revealed. “Why would I be embarrassed?” she asked without pretense.

“Why, indeed?” he muttered. He’d never seen a woman look the way his Ana did. She was an Amazon, and he realized when his cock wept a drop at the sight of her that his type was Amazon all the way. Her height did her so good, with toned legs that went on for miles and a long torso that was trim and packed with delicate muscle lines. The dip that started in the middle of her stomach just below her breasts and trailed down to her belly button called to him like a Siren, and he wanted to trace this space between muscle with his tongue. Her breasts were high and perfect, tipped with nipples the palest shade of pink, and they pebbled before his eyes. He took a stumbling step forward, closing the small distance she had put between them to disrobe. His erection met her before the rest of him did, sifting through the golden curls between her legs and folding up between them to become trapped between their bellies.

Her eyelids drooped. “Oh,” she breathed. She then writhed against him, rubbing his cock with her body. “That feels…”

He groaned and steadied her movements by clutching both of her hips. “Too good,” he finished for her. “Oh, God.”

She looked up at him, and their lips were so close he had only to lean down the fraction of an inch it took to taste her mouth. Her lips parted beneath his, and she flicked out her tongue, stroking before opening wider and biting into his bottom lip.

She may as well have slapped his ass. A beastly sound broke from his chest, and next he knew, he was hauling her up by the back of her thighs, guiding her legs to cinch around his waist. He began shuffling toward her bedroom as fast as the pants around his thighs would let him, and at the same time, he sucked on her neck hard enough that he knew he was leaving a mark.