Stone Passions Trilogy (7 page)

Her breasts pulsed with blood and she was dying for him to touch her, to sooth the ache of sensitized flesh. Instead of cupping her heavy breasts, he slid his hands around her waist and to the back of her skirt. She heard the zip of her zipper being lowered, felt the skirt as it fell to the ground and pooled at her feet. He smiled at her silk stockings, the pale pink garter belt and matching thong. It was devastating, it was thrilling.

His hands went to her waist, pulling her back into the heat of his body. One hand slid lower, past the elastic waist band of her panties and between the folds of her sex. Heat rose in her cheeks, knowing that he would find that she was already drenched. She fought the urge to cross her arms in front of her breasts once more, watching him instead as he moved an elegant finger deeper into her body.

His finger barely grazed her swollen flesh before it was gone and he was bringing his arm across her body. She was momentarily confused until he wrapped his sensuous lips around his fingertip and closed his eyes in ecstasy, tasting her. A low growl marked his pleasure, making her groan, making her hotter and wetter. Instead of embarrassment, she felt empowered.

“Touch me,” she whispered and watched as he opened his eyes, which were almost black with desire. A slight smile curved his lips once more as he finally – finally – cupped her breasts in his hands. The sight of his golden hands against her paler flesh was very erotic as his long, beautiful fingers curved over her swollen breasts. His thumbs slowly moved over her turgid nipples and waves of pleasure shot straight to her womb. She clenched her thighs together to ease the growing ache between her legs.

He growled and suddenly she was spinning around and he was bending his head. Within a heartbeat his mouth latched onto her nipple and he drew it deep into the moist depths, forming her flesh to his soft palate. Her breath hitched and she cried out as the intense sensation of teeth and tongue playing with the firm flesh made her stomach convulse. Her hands flew to his shoulders as her knees disappeared and her legs gave out. Muscles shifted beneath her fingers and she had to see him, had to feel him.

As he continued to tease her nipples, her breasts, she reached down and tugged at his shirt, pulling the tail from his pants. She was only able to lift it a few inches before her hands found silken flesh and she flattened her palms against his stomach. He was so warm, so alive. Her hands moved upwards, over the hills and vales of his sculpted abs, the sinewy ridges of his ribs. She clutched his rock-solid waist as his mouth moved to the other nipple.

Her fingers curled into his flesh as he lightly bit down. She cried out once more as a jolt of pain danced with an arc of pleasure. She felt him smile against her skin before his tongue darted out and soothed the stinging nipple. With one hand, he grabbed the hem of his shirt, breaking contact with her just long enough to yank it over his head and tossing it down. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her up, his solid chest burning the mounds of her breasts that were flattened between them.

He took a step forwards so that her butt was resting on the edge of the cool counter, his skin never leaving hers. He moved his mouth along her throat, tracing the fluttering pulse with his tongue. His lips were firm, tender, as they teased the lobe of her ear. Using one hand, he reached between them and tugged at the fastenings of his pants, kissing along the underside of her jaw.

Her hands fluttered over his hard body, joining the hand that was already working on freeing his erection. Pushing his hand out of the way, she was able to unbutton the fly, unzip the zipper. His hands moved to her head, his fingers brushing through the tangled mess of her hair but she didn’t care because he was this close to being naked. Eager to feel all of him, she pushed his pants and his briefs just over his hips before wrapping her hands around his cock. It was satin over burning steel, hot and hard and perfect.

She felt his moan against her throat as she stroked her hands up and down the length of his penis. He was deliciously large and she wanted him in her, now. Gently, urgently, she tugged him forward, trying to bring him into her body. His resistance was remarkable and frustrating, making her whimper. “Please.”

“Patience,” he murmured, lifting his head and talking against her lips just before he kissed her. Expertly, his mouth moved over hers, tasting her, familiarizing her with his lips. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth and her hands fell away from his cock, drifting to his chest once more. Taking a step forward, he closed the small distance between their bodies, pressing his erection against her swollen and aching sex.

Grinding against her, he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along the seam of her lips, silently asking for admittance. Her mouth opened, eagerly allowing him in. He even tasted of headiness and luxury, of heat and fulfillment. His tongue moved along hers, thrusting in and out of her mouth, tasting, teasing.

Hesitantly at first, than with greater boldness, she moved her tongue along his, losing herself in the kiss. Trailing his fingers over her stomach, the lace of her panties, he pressed a thumb against her clit, “Yes?”

“God, yes,” she breathed, pressing against his hand, feeling the rasp of lace against her swollen flesh. Her thighs shook, falling open even further, practically begging him to enter her.

The whimpers coming from her destroyed any illusion of control he may have had. Grabbing the panties, he tore them from her body, needing to be in her. Holding onto her hips, he positioned the head of his straining cock at her entrance, “Yes?”

“Yes!” she cried, her hips flexing towards him. “Please, yes!”

He thrust into her, filling her, impaling her. Releasing his breath in a long, drawn-out sigh of exaltation, he paused, savoring the first moment of having his cock embraced by the hot, tight passage of her feminine flesh. His eyes slid shut as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him all the way into her. It was rare to find a woman capable of taking so much so quickly and it was pleasure almost beyond endurance and he wanted more. His mouth possessed hers in a desperate mating of tongues and teeth and lips.

Her fingers tunneled through his thick, golden head of hair, holding his mouth against hers, wrapping him in her body, around her body.  Crossing her ankles behind his back, pressing her heels into his butt, she wanted to climb all the way into him. The pain of being impaled was nothing compared to the rapture. When he started to move, everything coalesced into the one spot between her legs until she was a vessel of pure ecstasy. 

Matching his rhythm, pushing down as he pushed up and taking him ever deeper, she could feel the beginnings of an orgasm, one that was centered deep within. Breathing quickly, it was too much and she wasn’t going to survive, she knew it. Tightening her hold around his neck, she tore her mouth away from his, gasping for breath. “Please.”

“Hold on, my love,” he rasped, his hips flexing faster and faster, demanding more and more. His hands moved to her ass, cupping her, holding her, as he moved her ever closer to the precipice.

Pain erupted into exquisite pleasure that radiated outwards from where they were joined. Her back arched and she screamed as the world came to an end. He continued to thrust, prolonging her death, her rebirth. Then his body stiffened and he growled out his release. As her muscles contracted, she felt the pulsing of his orgasm against her womb. From far away, she realized that the counter no longer supported her, that he held her entire weight in his arms.

Breathing heavily, he continued to hold her in his arms, even as her body collapsed onto his, boneless and weightless. Although her hold on him loosened, she did not let go. He was the only real thing in the world, the only thing. Pressing her lips against the strong column of his neck, she tasted his salty skin and she wanted to feast on him forever.

Realizing once more that he held her in his arms, a blush stole across her face and she started to squirm, “I must be heavy.”

“Not at all.” He smiled at her and she doubted she would be able to stand if he were to put her down. Tightening his hold on her, his grin turned slightly wicked, “In fact, I could hold you for eternity and not tire.”

“Still,” she protested feebly. She didn’t know how nice it was to be held like this, to be connected like this. Swallowing, she bit her lower lip even as she tightened her arms around his neck, hugging him closer. “Are you sure?”

“Sweetheart, I’m sure,” he assured her, flexing his hips and sending an aftershock of pleasure through both of their bodies. Pressing a soft kiss against her lips, he murmured, “I think we missed the countdown.”

She laughed, the bubbly joy of unexpected bliss bursting within her and around her. “I think we did a pretty good job welcoming in the New Year. I thought I had wanted a gargoyle but as it turns out, I just wanted you.”

“A… gargoyle?” he asked softly, tilting his head back and looking at her with a quizzical expression.

Feeling awkward and exposed for having admitted so much, she disentangled her limbs, somehow managing to dislodge herself from his body and find her footing. Awkwardly, she looked around the floor for her discarded clothing, trying to hide the burn of her blush with the fall of her hair. “Well, yeah, like a mythical guardian, you know?”

Tenderly, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, cupping her cheek and making her look at him. “I’m honored.”

With her fingers clutching her blouse, she paused and looked up at him disconcerted by his response. It was honest and heartfelt and not at all mocking. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip and smiled, “I want to see you again.”

“You want to see me again?” she asked dazedly, very pleasantly surprised by him, her lips tingling where he touched them. Reaching up, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, needing to touch him to make sure he was really there, that she wasn’t dreaming.

“Very much so,” he breathed, bending his head and replacing his hand with his mouth. Holding on, she kissed him back, enjoying the feel of his tongue as it leisurely stroked hers. Before they could lose themselves in a kiss, he reluctantly pulled away. Resting his forehead against hers, he clenched his jaw, “I have to go.”

“I understand,” she whispered, surprised to find that she did understand. Kissing his knuckles, she smiled, “Your brothers are probably looking for you and I suppose my friends are wondering where I am, as well. But first tell me your last name.”

His gaze swept over her face but it took him a long, drawn-out heartbeat to answer. “Nosuntres.”

“Vaughn Nosuntres.” She let his name roll over her tongue, tasting it with her mouth, liking the way it felt. Smiling, she looked up at him, “I like it.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against him, resting his cheek against the top of her head and he held her close. There was something almost desperate in his hug and his voice rasped when he murmured, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“But I’ll see you again, right?” she asked, returning his hug, wanting to hold on for a while longer as well.

He closed his eyes for a moment before meeting his gaze in the mirror. Patches of naked skin peeked out at him from beneath the dark strands of her hair. Her slender waist and the curve of her butt were completely exposed, her ass enhanced by the straps of her garter belt. How was he expected to give her up? “Yes, you will.”

But if Armand had his way, she wouldn’t recognize him. He knew it was the right thing to do but his body didn’t agree. His heart didn’t agree. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, “Happy New Year, Melanie.”

She kissed the skin over his heart before turning her head and resting her cheek against his chest, “Happy New Year, Vaughn.”

Chapter Four

At three in the morning, Vaughn leaned against the door jam, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he frowned at his brother. Armand, who sat on the floor with his long legs folded beneath his butt. The black haired bastard was wearing the silk ceremonial robes in order to cast the spell that would erase Melanie’s memory. Had he been thinking, he would have cast the spell after he had made love to her, when she was open and vulnerable. It's what he had planned on doing. But then she told him she wanted a gargoyle and his brain blanked as surprised joy slammed him upside his head and piercing his heart.

Even if he had cast the spell, he doubted it would have worked because his heart wouldn’t have been in it. He had no choice but to allow Armand to do what needed to be done, for her sake. It was too dangerous for a human to live in such close proximity to the creatures of their world, no matter how infatuated with her he was, not unless he was willing to give up his night and he wasn’t. Yet. At least his brother wouldn’t be able to erase his memory. He’d be able to relive his time with Melanie and no one could take that away.

“I told you it had to be taken care of and since she has proven impervious to our other, less invasive methods this is the only way.” Armand opened an eye and looked at Vaughn, “Every moment she spends in this building the risks increase. What if she sees something that her human brain cannot comprehend? Given enough time this place will drive her mad.”