Tempting Whispers: The Kategan Alphas 6 (18 page)

His eyes never left hers as he handed
the keys to the valet, thanked him, and came back to her, stopping right in
front of her. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him. She was right.
It was like something just clicked into place. His was the face she’d wake up
seeing for the rest of her life. The hardened face with the dark stubble around
his cheeks and chin, the curling brown hair atop his head, the piercing gray
eyes. And the way he was looking at her...made her whole body feel way too
warm.

“No one’s ever looked at me like that before.”

His eyebrows arched up.

She froze. She’d just walked into that
awkward territory where she spilled some feelings, even minor ones, with
someone she’d recently gotten to know. She braced herself. He’d either shut her
down now with a harsh retort, or saying something appeasing like ‘that’s nice’.
Her face flamed, but thankfully, the moon didn’t give out much light. Maybe he
couldn’t see it.

She was saved, or maybe recued would be
the better word. Christine threw open the front door and grinned from ear to
ear, her clever gaze moving between her and Brayden. “Welcome back. I see you
were found.”

Vanessa had to move away from him. Her
mind was in turmoil. Had he realized just how much something as simple as the
way he looked at her meant to her? She wanted the ground to open up and just
sink into it, never to be seen again. Or maybe for aliens to fly by and beam
her up into their ship. None of that would happen though, so she threw on a cheerful
smile and met Christine at the front door. Christine’s thrilled chitchatting
and probing questions about how was her time out was and where she’d gone, gave
her time to cool her mind down a bit. She even heard Brayden come inside and
close the door behind them without jumping.

“Great; drank a few of those strawberry margaritas.
So good!”

Christine’s face pinched. “Ew, no,
thanks. Tequila in anything is just gross for me. But give me a sweet wine, now
that I can do.”

A deep voice sounded behind Vanessa, sending
a wicked thrill down her body. “Excuse us. Vanessa and I have some business to
attend to.” Brayden’s hand scooped her arm at the elbow and then he was leading
her up the stairs.

Vanessa’s chest moved entirely too fast.
She couldn’t let him know how nervous he made her. So she focused and slowed
her breathing, in and out. In and out. He took her to the guest bedroom that
she’d woken up alone in that morning. The soft click of the door closing felt
like she was being locked in a steel vault in a bank...and alone with him.

She thought quickly. Maybe if she
excused herself she could hide away in the bathroom for a while. But she never
got farther than that. The air stirred behind her, just a small change that
fluttered over the bare back of her dress.

“You can’t run from me.”

She shivered; goosebumps formed down her
arms. “I wasn’t running.”
Be brave
, she told herself, and turned around
to look at him. She even managed a tumultuous smile and was damn proud of
herself for being able to pull it off.

He gave a brief shake of his head. “Yes
you were. Tell me why.”

Her smile fell. “I can’t.” How could she
talk about
feelings
when she’d had a hard enough time just saying that
no one had ever looked at her like that before...like he cared, like she
mattered to him.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. You’re
stronger than that. One of the strongest women I’ve ever met.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that came. “Seriously,
now that’s just a straight lie, Brayden.” His arms came around her waist,
slowly pulling her into him. She dug her feet in, leaned away to fight it. She
didn’t want to be close to him right now, didn’t want him to break down her
walls. But her resistance was futile, no match for his strength and she
relented until their chests pressed deeply against one another. He touched her
hair, threading his fingers through it from scalp to ends. A breathy sigh
escaped her. A shudder racked down her spine.

“I don’t lie. Now tell me, Vanessa.”

Her hands flattened over his hard chest,
fingers digging in to the solid muscle. “Why?”

His hands paused on her back with her
hair still threaded between his fingers. Then his voice came close to her ear,
a husky whisper. “Because, it matters to me.”

Oh
, she thought
breathlessly. Just,
oh
. It mattered. To him. The temperature in the room
surely just skyrocketed, or else why was she suddenly too warm? “I felt like an
ass for saying what I did outside.” His hand continued to stroke her hair, the
other arm stayed wrapped around her waist arching her into him. The touch made
her shoulders slacken, her entire body relax.

“Why?”

She shook her head once. “Oh, come on,
don’t make me say it,” she said into his shirt. She kept face as buried in
there as she could. Not that it wasn’t nice. He smelled really good.

He sighed and her mouth twitched at the
exasperated sound. “Really, Vanessa, I won’t understand how you feel unless you
tell me explicitly. I’m not...accustomed to this.”

Neither am I
,
she wanted to say. “Okay, fine.” She sucked in a deep breath then let it all
out. “I confessed something...about how I feel with you and I was afraid you’d
shoot me down.” The words were out; no going back now. Still, had she even made
any sense? Would he get what she was trying to say? God, she hoped so.

She waited what felt like forever before
he replied. And when he did, her heart thumped. “I feel the same.”

“Huh?” She jerked her head up so she
could see his eyes.

“It’s true,” he said watching her. “No
one’s ever looked at me the way you do, either. As if I’m someone important—to
them.”

“Really?” God, was that her tiny voice
asking that?

His eyes darkened with something hot,
raw, and completely sexual. Her core pulsed, nipples tingled. “I’m telling you
now. Nothing could make me let that go. I’d fight for you tooth and nail to
keep you, and I plan to.”

Now it was her turn to ask. “Why?”

His hand fell to her waist, curling into
to her hips and then he was lifting her, pulling her up. Her arms naturally
went around his neck to hang on as she balanced on her toes.

“Because, you’re mine now. I think you
were mine the minute you got into my car.”

Then his lips crossed hers and her body
melted. That one kiss changed everything. Her lips tingled where they touched.
His tongue dipped in and she opened to give him access. Her hands sifted
through the soft hair at his head, tugged until he kissed her harder, pressed
deeper. He licked inside her mouth and she tasted his, flicking her tongue
across the hard points of his fangs and moaning when his body tightened beneath
her.

“Taking you now,” he said against her
lips. And then he easily lifted the bottom of her dress up, gripped her buttocks
and hauled her up into his arms. Her legs went around his waist; her head
turned to the side trying to reach all of him. He walked them across the room.
She didn’t care where he took her. To the chaise lounge, to the wall, to the
floor—it didn’t matter, so long as he took her and made her feel the way only
he could.

He lowered her to the bed and she sighed
in protest as her mouth lefts his. She fell against the soft cushion, but her
body arched up to his, needing him to come back down on her. His eyes leveled
on hers, glittering with need. Then he stood back and pulled his shirt over his
head. The sight of hard muscles packed and ribbed at his stomach, the tan to
his skin, the line of hair down his stomach, made her legs scissor together
trying to get some relief. He watched her. She felt like a piece of meat under
a predator’s eyes—like she was about to get eaten.

Still, she couldn’t keep her eyes from
memorizing every inch of him. When they’d made love on the couch, she hadn’t
gotten to feel their naked chests pressed together, hadn’t gotten to see all
the muscles she’d felt with her hands. Now she did and her mouth watered.

“Take off your dress.” It was an order
given softly, but no less commanding.

Breath hitching in her throat, she
grabbed the dress at her thighs and started pulling, her hips lifting and
arching as she worked the material up. His eyes flared, his chest expanding
hard as he watched her. He liked it and hell if she didn’t like that he did. So
she exaggerated the movements, slowed them down. The dress fluttered up around
her stomach and she arched her back as she bared her naked breasts. The soft
material helped to tease her hard nipples even more, making her sigh as the
material passed over them.

He wet his bottom lip but kept watching
her as he unbuckled his belt and started on his pants. Finally, she lifted the
dress overhead and tossed it aside, completely bare save her small plain
panties.

“Beautiful,” he said, eye roaming over
her.

She felt beautiful. He could make her
feel like that. Like all other women couldn’t compare when he looked at her
like that. Finally, he unzipped his pants, toed off his shoes, then slid his
pants and black socks off in a smooth move. When he stood tall again, she
gasped. She wished she hadn’t, that she could control her purely feminine
response, but damn if she could. She’d never seen a man like that. A man with
legs wired hard with ropes of muscles, with slender hips and wide shoulders.

She tried not to look, she really did,
but her eyes fell to the hard shaft thrusting out from his hips. A flood of
moisture spilled between her legs and she squirmed in need, needing
him
,
inside her.

Ah, but it was okay, because he came
onto the bed, snagged his fingers around her little panties, then tugged them
down and off. No slow moving motions for him. His hands said determination. His
fingers slid around her ankles then his hands traveled up her legs. Goosebumps
broke out all across her body and somehow made her nipples even harder.
Everything ached. Nipples, sex, deep inside her. Even her skin seemed to crave
him. Only after he slid his hand over her, did the ache ease. His hands stopped
past her knees and then his beautiful eyes met hers. They were pure heat and promise.
Then he jerked her legs open, pushing her knees back until she was spread open
and bare before him.

Her hands flew down to cover herself as
a furious blush burned her face.

“No.” He grabbed her hands, then set
them over her breasts. He watched her much smaller hands settle over her
breasts, then nodded as if it pleased him. “Keep them there.” His voice had
turned huskier, growling.

He settled between her legs. Every
muscle in her body pulled tight until she strained beneath. What was he doing?
Oh, she had an idea and she felt utterly mortified by it. He couldn’t possibly
think about putting his mouth on her there. God, she felt like such a prude,
but she couldn’t help it. No one had ever done that...especially not Joseph.

And boy did he seem to have
no
problem touching her down there. His slid over her, cupping her. This his chin
dipped down against her inner thigh making her open even more for him. She
couldn’t watch. No way. She slammed her eyes closed and clenched her breasts in
a hard grip.

He continued to touch her as if he were
petting her. His palm would occasionally press hard against her and sparks
exploded inside her, behind her eyelids. Her breath would catch. He tugged on
the thatch of hair above her sex, then something very soft pressed over her.
Light as feather, but not tickling like a one. She peeled her eyes open for a
moment to find him pressing his lips across her.

It started to feel good. Inside,
something was growing, building really big.

Then something wet and much firmer
darted over her. Fast at first, then slowly, lingering. Her back shot off the
bed and her hands flew to his head. She panted, couldn’t catch her breath. Her
hands had curled hard into his hair, but she didn’t care. That feeling, oh,
that
feeling
!

His eyes opened to look up at her, his
mouth releasing her. Slowly, she uncurled her fingers, then jerked them away as
if scalded.

He lifted himself up, something
incredibly hot and wicked glazing in her eyes. “You’re going to lie back now. I’m
going to make you come with my mouth and then I’m going to fuck you. You got
that?” His eyes glanced back between her legs and he groaned as if he couldn’t
wait to be back there.

“Are you sure?”

He stared at her until she gave in and
lay back on the bed. There was no relaxing. Not at all. Not when she knew he
was going to lick her again. It’d felt so strange. Soft and wet against her own
soft wetness. It’d also felt strangely good and entirely wicked and naughty. He
settled back down between her thighs, but when he touched her again, it was
different. Harder. Hungrier. As if, he was trying to prove something to her.

His tongue found that spot, that
sensitive bundle of erotic nerves and he played with it. He didn’t stop. He
didn’t relent. Once her breath caught and she started to get swept away in the
pleasure, he’d change the motion until she was squirming, sweating, panting. Her
entire body trembled beneath his tongue and lips. He nuzzled that spot,
applying pressure then relaxing it, darting quickly, then slowly twirling
around and around. Her head was swimming. He’d completely swept her up into a pool
of throbbing pleasure. And when his finger passed over her entrance, she cried
out and threaded her hand in his hair, this time not to jerk, but to coax and
beg. He passed it over her again and again, sometimes dipping just a little
into her wetness.