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“Much more than a wife.” He kept his arms still at his sides rather than touch her as he wanted to. “The most important part of who I am.”
Her expression softened, though her gaze gleamed with nervousness and with a twinge of uncertainty. It didn’t stop her need, though, and it didn’t stop that small step into awareness of her power over him.
And she had a great amount of power over him. He would do more than kill for her—he would die for her. But even more, he would fight to the very limits of his training to live for her.
“I want you.” She said it simply, and with that she stole any remaining part of him that he may have held separately from her.
The breath literally stalled in his throat as she worked at the buckle of his belt. Slow, sure movements, her slender fingers easing the belt loose then slipping the metal button free to slide the zipper down, over the heavy ridge of flesh throbbing beneath.
He growled involuntarily, the muscles of his abdomen flexing violently as her fingers gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up his torso.
Saban lifted his arms, bent enough to allow her to pull the shirt free, then nearly roared out his pleasure as her head bent and her sharp little teeth raked his chest.
“Mercy, my cher,” he growled, forcing his hands to merely skim along her back.
She was fully dressed. He wanted her naked, and he wanted her naked now.
He gripped the hem of her shirt and drew it off when he wanted to rip it off. He forced back a hungry snarl as he felt her satiny flesh, and then a roar as her hot lips moved down his chest to his abdomen, then to the straining length of his cock.
He stared down at her in amazement as she went to her knees. Her breasts were framed in black lace, pale and swollen and pretty as hell. Nothing could be as pretty as those pale pink, luscious lips surrounding and consuming the head of his cock though.
Damn. Nothing could be as good.
His fingers slid into her hair. The warm strands tangled around his fingers like living silk. She sucked the head of his cock deep inside her mouth. She sent his senses exploding.
Saban felt his head fall back on his shoulders then forced himself steady to stare down at her. He felt the rumbling growls that came from his chest, and he growled her name. He snarled his need for her, and he fought for control. He prayed for control, because he wanted this to last. He wanted this touch, the way her eyes blazed up at him, the sight of his flesh held intimately in her mouth seared into his memory.
A shattered groan ripped from his chest as her tongue swirled around the head, caressing the swollen crest with wicked licks. And there, just beneath the crest, her curious little tongue probed at the flesh that covered the barb. The extension wasn’t erect, but it throbbed beneath the flesh, ached with the need for release.
“I’ll not stand much more,” he groaned as she sucked the head back into her mouth and whispered a moan over the thick crest.
“Natalie, cher.” His thighs tightened against the need to come, his balls drew up in agony.
With one last, slow lick, she pulled back slowly.
“I want to take you.”
Saban stared down, dazed, sweat forming on his forehead as she rose to her feet, her slender fingers stroking over his erection.
“I want to take you right here.” She toed off her shoes as she unsnapped her jeans.
“Here?” He swallowed tightly, watching as she wiggled from the snug denim like a fantasy present, unwrapped one slow inch at a time.
“Here.” Her smile was pure sex, pure need. “Do you have a problem with here?” She kicked her jeans free before reaching behind her and unclipping the bra.
The cups fell away from the firm, sweet flesh of her breasts, and control was suddenly the last thing on his mind. Sweet, succulent nipples topped the flushed mounds, and he was lost.
“Here works.”
Hell, he didn’t care where it was, as long as he was inside her, holding her, her holding him, a part of each other.
Saban sat back on the couch, watched in wonder and pleasure as she straddled his thighs and came to him.
His hands shackled her hips as he reclined into the back of the couch.
She flowed over him like hot honey. Soft, saturated, slick flesh enclosed his cock head, then by slow, agonizing inches took the shaft of his erection. Tiny, whimpering cries left her lips. Her sharp nails bit into his shoulders, and her dark eyes were nearly black in her pleasure.
“I’ll not last long. I’ll make up for it.” He was fighting to breathe.
