Parallel Heat (43 page)

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Authors: Deidre Knight

BOOK: Parallel Heat
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She stood before him wearing only her stockings, panties, and bra; well, and her stiletto heels. It seemed that now, undressed before him, the heels caused her pelvis to thrust forward, positioning her just for him. Hot wetness formed between her legs, making her slick and ready; she stared once again at the powerful bulge between his thighs. In fact, she couldn’t seem to look away, recalling how he’d masturbated in front of her during her Change.
His eyes had the black look of a predator, prowling first one way over her body, then another. She considered commanding him as he had done her, ordering him out of his pants. Insisting that he strip bare and stand before her. But for some reason, it seemed important to fall under the sway of his bedroom leadership. With a stifled giggle, she fought the urge to assume a parade rest stance as she gaped back at him.
‘‘Now, unsnap your bra,’’ he ordered, rubbing a palm over first one of his nipples, then the other. She noticed that they’d become as pert and puckered as her own felt, the only difference was that his were covered with downy black hairs, as silky as the curling ones atop his head.
Gods, he’s beautiful. Far more beautiful than any man I’ve ever known.
His eyes flared with pleasure at her appraisal of his body; she dropped her gaze shyly, feeling heat flush across her cheeks.
The huffing sound of his breath filled the silence between them, but he made no move as her bra came loose in her hands. Slowly, she allowed both of her bosoms to fall free from the silken material. He’d seen her before, but never slowly and deliberately like this. For long moments, he gasped and drew in heavy breaths, just staring at her. She struggled to breathe herself, finally managing: ‘‘It’s your turn, Marco.’’
He cocked his head, a teasing smile forming on his face so that his single dimple appeared. ‘‘Not really, Thea. I’m the one in control here.’’
‘‘Don’t be so sure,’’ she whispered, lifting a hand to stroke a circular pattern around her left nipple. ‘‘I rather think I’m running this show.’’
With a rabid growl, he narrowed his dark eyes at her, running his hands up and down his thighs. But he made no move to unclothe himself.
‘‘Come on, Marco,’’ she begged, panting. ‘‘Take me in your arms. I can’t stand this any longer!’’
He took one step closer, then halted. ‘‘Not yet.’’
She threw her head back, moaning her lusty need. ‘‘Please,’’ she complained. ‘‘I need you!’’
‘‘And you don’t think I need you?’’ He growled, much more loudly than any time before. Louder than she’d ever heard him—that highly aroused sound that only a Refarian male made during mating rites—and the hairs on the nape of her neck stood on end.
‘‘I think you’re too controlled,’’ she gibed.
With another step closer, he made a great show of unfastening his belt, slipping it loose from each loop, his eyes locked with hers. ‘‘And I think’’—he paused, slipping the belt free—‘‘you like control.’’ He tossed it toward her, and with a staggering step in her stilettos, she caught it. ‘‘So have it.’’
‘‘What?’’ she gasped.
‘‘Control me.’’ He nodded toward the belt in her hands. ‘‘Take me in whatever way pleases you.’’
She stroked the warm leather of his belt between her fingertips, wondering why a half memory seemed to beg her to take him up on his offer. ‘‘I-I don’t know what you mean,’’ she argued, though she knew exactly his intention.
‘‘In another time, you liked to do that,’’ he answered simply, his eyes sparkling. ‘‘It wasn’t my plan tonight—and I do have one. But if you’d rather take control, I’m all right with that.’’
She swallowed hard, feeling the leather burn her hands, but shook her head. No, she wanted him in charge, just as he’d intended. ‘‘No, go on,’’ she barely managed to squeeze out. With an easy toss, she sent the belt clattering to the floor.
‘‘Good. Then we’re agreed.’’ He unsnapped his uniform pants.
‘‘You’re teasing me,’’ she complained, knowing it was true. ‘‘You’re seducing me strangely.’’
‘‘It’s what you want, Thea.’’
‘‘How do you know that? You can’t know—’’
‘‘I’m an empath. You crave to follow me; almost everyone else has to follow
you
.’’
She nodded, knowing in her heart that it was completely true. ‘‘Yes. Yes, Marco.’’
‘‘Then tonight, I make all the rules,’’ he said, feeling his groin tighten even harder. ‘‘And we will mate for eternity.’’
She panted, licking her lips, feeling a keening cry well up within her. The heat of her mating fever seemed to descend in that moment; no warning, no preparation, it simply fell over her like an instantaneous, mystic spell, causing every cell within her D’Ashanian body to quiver.
‘‘Yes, love,’’ she agreed with a brisk nod. ‘‘Take me completely!’’
He flashed an almost wicked, possessed smile at her. ‘‘Good, baby. That’s good,’’ he soothed silkily. ‘‘Now just follow me.’’
 
Thea stood in the bedroom, literally unable to speak. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her eyes. The four-poster bed had been draped in lovely, diaphanous curtains, billowing softly in the roaring fire of the hearth. They floated mystically from high atop the bed, cascading downward on both sides, so that a veiled canopy shimmered in the luminous candlelight. From every direction light splashed through the sheer material, playing shadow and incandescent hues against each other. Marco had woven a spell over the room by gilding it all in golden darkness.
‘‘Do you like it?’’ She could only see the side of his face, his arm, as he was partly obscured behind the lovely, glittering curtains. ‘‘I wanted it to be . . . romantic.’’
‘‘You know that I do.’’ Swallowing hard, she willed her heart to quiet its frantic tempo. It almost seemed as if it might explode from within her chest, the emotions between them were that overpowering.
His eyes glinted with seduction and something very dangerous. ‘‘Good. That was the plan.’’
Closing the distance between them, he dropped to his knees before her. The bedroom sparkled with dozens of twinkling candles, a chiaroscuro of dark and light shadowing her husband’s face as he gently began removing her stockings, kneeling before her like she was his very own princess. After easing first one foot, then the other out of the nylon, Marco trailed his mouth across her abdomen with a hungry gesture, making raw mating sounds. Wrapping his arms about her hips, he trembled against her, quivering with a desperate, wordless desire.
Laving her belly button with his tongue, he dipped the wet tip of it lower still, trailing a path down to the edge of her panties. With a sensual gesture, he peeled the panties down her legs, then bent his dark head between her thighs. One calloused hand pushed between her legs, forcing them farther apart. With a gasp, she clutched at his head, curling her fingers in his hair. ‘‘Marco,’’ she panted. ‘‘I’m not sure . . .’’
With a mumbling groan, he pressed his lips against
her
lips, flicking his tongue like a hot, warm fiend; in and out, back and forth, she staggered with cresting desire, grasping at him, holding on as a sudden jolt shot through her entire body, electrifying every particle of her being.
Oh, my Change. She panicked, sucking in breaths.
Too soon! Too soon . . .
‘‘Marco,’’ she cried out. ‘‘Marco—I-I’m going t-to—’’
With a fluid gesture, he was on his feet and crushing her against his chest before she could finish. ‘‘You will not Change yet,’’ he told her firmly.
‘‘You won’t let me?’’ She tilted her face toward him helplessly, and he flashed a dark grin.
‘‘
You
won’t allow it—because you want this too much.’’
Her hands trembled against his chest, and she nuzzled him there, searching for her internal rhythm. If she could steady it, she would master the haywire signals urging her to transform before they could mate. She’d spent a lifetime tamping down her needs and her nature. After a moment, she eased into him a bit more, relaxing her body against his, aware that he’d teased her to an impossible precipice, then soared earthward with her in his grasp. Safe, desired. Protected above all others.
Slowly pirouetting her in a half circle, he held her from behind, his broad, powerful chest pressing hard against her body—just like the first night they’d met. She felt his hand press between their two bodies, and an answering rustle of fabric signaled what she already felt: That he’d finally shed his uniform trousers, and was completely bare. She felt the startling warmth of his rough, hair-dusted legs pushing her slightly against the mattress.
And she felt his protruding hard-on slide right between her legs, which were so slick for him she might as well have been a heated pool.
Marco knew that everything Sabrina had predicted was surely imminent. Inside his belly fire coiled like a burning serpent, wrapping its sweltering need about his loins with unrelenting force. Every single moment that he held off with Thea became one moment closer to revealing his terrible secret.
He pressed hot kisses against the top of her head, anguished momentarily by the weight of his identity. What if Thea fled him? What if she feared his own fire for some inexplicable reason? It was irrational, but he was terrified for her to see his core nature.
That is you at your most basic, most primal; of course you’re afraid
, a soft voice reminded him.
His trembling only intensified.
‘‘Thea, let’s lie on the bed.’’ It was all he could do to force the words out.
With a graceful move, she slowly draped herself across the cool satin sheets, curling there like the goddess he’d imagined her to be. For a full moment, he could only gaze upon her, blinking at such a site of pure beauty. Perfection—his perfection! His wife and soon to be mate.
‘‘I wish to mate,’’ he blurted with a rough growl of intent. ‘‘We must mate . . . now!’’ The words were a harsh roar, as fire threatened to explode even in his very fingertips.
‘‘Yes, yes,’’ she agreed with a breathy sigh. ‘‘I can’t hold back much longer, Marco. I just can’t.’’
He nodded, mounting her, thrusting his cock between her legs. Like yesterday, their mutual arousal was so strong, it seemed neither wanted to be gentle. ‘‘I don’t want to hurt you,’’ he lamented, bracing his hands about her head. ‘‘Gods, I’d rather die.’’
Lifting a fair hand to his cheek, tears shimmered in her eyes. ‘‘It won’t hurt; it’s too beautiful.’’ She gave a brisk, soldierly nod, then added, ‘‘Just do it—now!’’
Propelling his hips against her, he entered her as quickly as he could manage, given that it was his first time too. She flinched as he felt the warmth of her body enclose his own, and then . . . She became radiant. Literally. Her skin glowed from beneath the surface, causing the darkness to shine with luminance. Very tentatively he gave another thrust, only to feel her answer by tightening about him.
Thea lifted and begged, urged and fought, did everything in her bodily power to get Marco deeper within her. But nothing seemed enough to quench her thirst for him; nothing could ever be enough!
Baby, baby
, he murmured, seizing hold of their bond, deepening it, plumbing her depths with his energy. It seemed as if tendrils of lightning shot across her flesh, even as his palms stroked and pleasured her. ‘‘Thea!’’ he shouted against her shoulder.
‘‘Are you all right?’’ She dug her fingernails into the flesh of his shoulders, struggling to keep form. She couldn’t allow her core nature to take charge, not if she didn’t want to hurt him—possibly kill him, even.
‘‘I-I’m losing control.’’ He panted, stilling suddenly inside her. In obvious panic, he pulled back, searching her face for some sort of help.
‘‘It’s okay,’’ she tried to soothe him. ‘‘That . . . happens.’’ Then she began giggling crazily. ‘‘Marco! Men lose control.’’ She gripped his buttocks, trying to work him back into a grinding rhythm atop her.
He fought her, then shook his head, his black eyes ringed with panic. ‘‘No, no, baby—you don’t understand.’’ At that precise moment, a strange sensation radiated toward her . . . from within him. A burning presence, a welling crescendo.
Terror suddenly filled Thea’s heart; she was about to shape-shift! She couldn’t stop herself, she was on fire!
‘‘In All’s name!’’ she cried, pushing at his chest with both her palms. ‘‘Get off before I-I . . . Marco, I don’t want to hurt you!’’ Again, she pushed at his chest, but it was too late; like a fiery cauldron her Change caught hold, rolling like a tidal wave from her abdomen to her extremities and she was ablaze!
Whirling in panic, she hardly had time to process her transformation, wresting to separate herself from his corporeal body, except . . . she met a presence. A blazing, roaring, golden being who rushed toward her, not away.
Mate! My mate!
Marco thundered within their bond, spiraling toward her in a blaze of luminous glory. Every desire, every dream she’d ever held about joining with her lifemate came into pure focus at that moment. The love of her life, somehow—inexplicably—just like her!
Love mate!
She trilled back, hurling herself toward his glowing form.
But something stopped her; right as she felt their souls impact one another, instantly knitting together in an explosion of light and beauty, he simply retracted, withdrawing to the far side of the bedroom.
Terror! What I?
Murmuring words of love and reassurance, she promised him that it was okay. That whatever had happened, this transformation that seemed to have overtaken him had to be a result of their mating. Her words were simple, basic as her communication always was while in her purest form.
With a static rumble, he collapsed on the floor, naked and glistening with sweat, his shoulders vibrating with every gasping breath he labored to draw. For a long moment he braced himself there, head down, struggling to regain his clarity. She shifted, returning to physical form, and knelt beside him, rubbing his back.

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