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“You are not still afraid?” the question came at last. The question she had been waiting for.
Gwen turned, walked over to the windows, and closed the curtains, enveloping them in near darkness. The dwindling embers cast nothing but ominous shadows. “No,” she told him. “Not when I know you’re in it with me.”
She could see no more than an outline of his body—then she could see nothing. The darkness grew thick, the shadows consuming. Not even the dim firelight pressed beyond the hearth. Gwen took in a breath as she was surrounded by darkness. She tamped down her anxiousness, knowing this was Sirus’s doing. That he was drawing in the darkness.
Gwen couldn’t hear him, but she closed her eyes and breathed in deep. The scent of pine and spice was so close. He was close. She stepped forward and splayed her hands out before her. They landed on his chest, and he took in a breath. She heard the soft sound he made. Excitement and satisfaction coursed through her at having drawn such a reaction. Her hands slid up his body. She did not need to see him. Gwen could feel the thin fabric of his shirt and the hard muscle beneath.
“Gwendolyn.” It was pleading and gruff. Still, he didn’t touch her.
“Sirus,” she whispered back before she pressed a soft kiss to the base of his neck. His body was tense beneath her touch, and she didn’t know why. He swallowed, and she felt the movement beneath her lips. Heard it in her ear. Gwen breathed him in deep. The rich, spiced scent of him. Her entire body heated, and she felt dizzy with his nearness. She kissed his neck again.
He was so tense. She could feel his muscles straining under her touch. As if he was restraining himself. Her core throbbed with a raw desire she’d never felt before. She wanted him. All of him. She scraped her teeth over his neck as he’d done to her.
The sound it elicited was so feral and dark. She felt the vibration under her tongue as she trailed back over the path. His hands found her then. He held her hips gently, pushing her back to put distance between them but not pushing her away.
She could barely make him out in the growing darkness; only a haze of an outline remained in the firelight. Gwen couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his hesitation. Her hands rested on his chest. His on her hips. Only the soft sounds of their breathing filling the void.
“Can I tell you my darkest desire?” he posed, the words chilled but hot all at once.
Her insides pooled with liquid heat. “Yes,” she managed to whisper.
Gently, he lifted his hands and placed them over her own, prying them away from his chest. His beard tickled her palm before his lips caressed the sensitive flesh there. First one hand. Then the other. It was so intimate and gentle, it stole what little breath she had. “I desire your pleasure,” he declared. He pressed her palms against his chest again, locking them there. “I want to hear it screamed into the darkness.”
Her knees shook at the wicked promise in his dark confession. At the graveled honesty in it. “Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. She wanted it too.
His lips found hers, and the inferno was instant. He didn’t have to tease her with his tongue, as her mouth was already waiting for him. Their tongues collided and devoured, as if neither of them could get enough. In a whirl, he’d lifted her up, pressing her back against the wall. Gwen whimpered, and when he went to pull away, she held him to her. His hands moved over her. Kneading and caressing and fondling until she was lost. He pulled his mouth away from hers only long enough to allow her to yank off her sweater and throw it into the darkness.
Sirus forged a path of hot kisses down her neck, her chest. When he got close, she moaned in anticipation. He didn’t delay or tease. The flimsy strap of her bralette fell away, and the moment it did, his mouth was on her breast.
She groaned into the darkness, arching herself into him, digging her fingers into his hair. It only took moments before the need inside her made her feel like she might burst. Gwen fumbled her hands down his front, searching. She panted his name when she found the tip of him and pressed her palm over his length. He groaned against her nipple. When she did it again, he leaned his head against her chest. It was so raw, she could barely stand it. The moment she tried to rub lower, he snatched her wrist. Before Gwen knew it, she was spun around with both of her hands against the wall in front of her, both of his on top to hold them steady. It was rough and quick and startling. She loved it.
He growled in her ear, and she let out a harsh breath as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, her breaths falling fast. “I want to touch you,” she told him.
Sirus nibbled at her ear, holding her hands tightly to the wall when she tried to shift. “That is a problem,” he declared, the words low and liquid in her ear. “As I desire to touch you.” A promise. A threat. Her core ached. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, kissing that spot below her ear.
Gwen’s body burned to be touched. “No,” she breathed. If he stopped now, she might scream.
A low sound of satisfaction rumbled in his chest and vibrated through her back. He pressed his hands harder against hers on the wall. “These do not move, do you understand?” Promise. Threat.
She nodded. “Yes.”
His hands slid from hers, but his body stayed pressed against her back. He did not touch her at first; his arms simply dropped slowly. Gwen felt the heat of his breath on her neck as they stood in the total darkness. The firelight was now entirely gone. Her skin shivered. Any other woman would be terrified, but she nearly vibrated with excitement. The dark promise the shadows held when he was in them.
Fingers moved like feathers over the outside of her thigh. “Silk,” Sirus commented as he raked his fingers up one side and then the other over her skirt, dragging the soft fabric over her skin. Another gift from Levian.
The soft touch made her moan. More. She wanted more. Gwen pushed herself back against him, but he slid away from her. If she moved further, her hands would fall, and she knew he wouldn’t like it. Gwen bit her lip, wondering what punishment he might bestow.
“Do not drop them if you want what comes next,” he warned her.
Gwen’s fingers tensed against the cool wallpaper.
“Good,” he breathed against her neck. He kissed her softly before he scraped his teeth over the spot. Gwen groaned. His palm caressed her nipple, and she struggled to keep her knees steady. His other strong arm wrapped around her waist and down her thigh, holding her up. The pressure of him against her sent her gasping. She moaned his name when he pinched her nipple between his fingers then palmed her full breast.
She could have sworn he laughed against her neck. Gwen arched her back to press herself harder into his hand. He licked her neck again—then she felt teeth. The pain was shocking and electrifying. It wasn’t like the nibbles before; this was meant to hurt. She gasped and groaned all at once. She couldn’t believe it. Her skin still ached and pulsed with pain and pleasure. He rewarded her further by kissing the spot and grabbing her breast firmly in his hand. She moaned, not caring one bit how she might sound.
The arm that was wrapped around her middle tightened, and his fingers dug into her thigh. “The sounds you make,” he growled low against her skin. His other fingers trailed up her thigh below the hem of her skirt.
Gwen whimpered and tossed her head back until it pressed against his shoulder. Raw need coiled in her belly. She almost begged him to move faster. To touch her where she needed him most. Those fingers moved slow and steady over her skin. Sirus teased at her breasts with his other hand. Pinching her nipple, palming her, stroking her softly. Soon she was panting and nearly wild with want. She whimpered as if in pain when he got so close she could feel the heat of his hand outside the thin fabric that separated them.
