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This, here, the way Tallak stood there with every part of him attuned to her slightest movement, to the rise and fall of her chest and the pulse beating at her neck, while his dark power hovered in the air as if ready to strike, it made the panthers seem like mere kittens trying to pounce.
She swallowed, her voice gone husky. “You’ve seen me naked before.”
Unblinking, his eyes still that spine-chilling almost black, he met her gaze. “Not nearly enough.”
He reached to the rack on the wall and pulled off a towel, his movements underlaid with lithe power. Crooking a finger, he indicated for her to step out.
She hesitated. There was a primal thrill to this, to following the invitation of a being at home in darkness and violence as he beckoned her closer. Her own power to defend herself notwithstanding, it still gave her chills—of the wickedly pleasant kind—to discard the warnings of her youth, to answer the call of this predator she’d been taught to fear.
Isabel would have a conniption if she were here to see her now.
Well, Hazel thought with bitterness, then again, Isabel lost all right to cast judgment when she had a demon kidnap and rape Maeve to within an inch of sanity. As much as her older sister had been a powerful influence on Hazel’s life, she’d been horribly wrong about many things.
Shrugging off the pain of the past, she stepped out of the tub and into the towel Tallak held ready for her.
“Let me,” he said roughly as she reached for the towel to dry herself.
Something in his voice made her indulge him. He seemed…intense, restless despite the apparent control with which he held himself. There was a note of raw need to his energy, a hint of deep yearning that felt achingly familiar.
That unvarnished almost pain in his power gentled when he wrapped her in the towel and rubbed the soft fabric over her skin, caressing her inch by inch in what would hardly pass as actual drying.
Each stretch of skin freshly rubbed by the towel would receive a kiss from him, his breath a sensual tickle, his lips causing tingles to spread through her. All the while, he remained intent on his task, proceeding with slow deliberation, as if afraid to break his own leash if he moved any faster.
Instead of frightening her, it made her want to shatter his control and free whatever was shackled inside him.
All thought of breaking his restraint fled her mind when his lips closed around her nipple. Acute pleasure raced down right to the juncture of her legs, making her gasp. But instead of lingering, he moved right on, “drying” her other breast, then placing soft kisses everywhere but her other nipple, causing frustration to war with her mounting arousal.
He was already behind her now, gracing her back with his sensual towel play when—as if an afterthought—he reached around her and gently squeezed her neglected nipple.
Her knees almost buckled.
That arm he’d snaked around her tightened as he grabbed her, steadying her against his front. She could feel his delicious hardness at her lower back, and it made her press her thighs together at the exquisite throb of desire pulsing through her core.
“I think I’m dry enough,” she whispered. She couldn’t take much more of his ministrations, or she’d explode.
He chuckled against her neck. “Babe,” he said, moving his hand down her abdomen, brushing her curls, his fingers finding her slick entrance, “you’re the farthest thing from dry right now.”
Sharp pleasure zinged through her at his intimate touch, and she’d rocked her hips forward and into his hand before she knew what she was doing.
The rough sound he made against her ear made her shiver. “That’s right, move with me.” His thumb circled her clit, and she sucked in a breath. “Seek your pleasure. Take it.”
Wantonly, she rode his hand. He’d slung his other arm around her middle to steady her, and she was glad for it, for she might have otherwise simply flowed into a puddle of liquid lust on the floor. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, and his hot mouth trailed kisses down her throat, his teeth nipping at her skin here and there. Each little bite pushed her closer to the edge.
His fingers worked her wet heat, his thumb rubbing her clit with insistent pressure, driving her need up to that precarious line between pain and pleasure.
She tipped over with a husky moan, convulsing against his hand, her inner muscles clenching hard around his fingers. He kept stroking her in slowing caresses, drawing out her climax and making her shudder with each deliberate slide over her sensitive clit.
His hot breath fanned her neck, and he held her pressed tightly to him for a moment, like he needed to pause in order not to lose control. Then, with a last, measured stroke through her slick folds, he brought up the hand that had just pleasured her, and sucked her juices from his fingers. She half turned her head, watched him with rapt fascination, a wicked sort of delight shimmering through her at his open enjoyment of her taste.
“I won’t ever get enough of this.” His voice held a rough edge.
Without much further ado, he swung her up into his arms and carried her into the adjoining room, where he placed her on the mattress. The otherworldly glow of his fiery eyes the only light here other than the faint flicker of the candles from the bathroom, he rose over her, all shadow and smoke and dark temptation, and proceeded to show her—yet again—how much pleasure she was capable of feeling in just one night.
When he was finally finished with her, slaking his own need at last, her mind was calmly blissed out, no anxious thoughts able to grab hold of her anymore. There was only the pleasant hum of her satiation, darkness, and Tallak. His scent wrapped around her, mingling with the fragrance of her bath and the lingering smoke of the extinguished candles, his heat a comforting presence at her back.
I could get used to this, was her last thought before sleep claimed her, and she was far too tired to realize the implication of not seeing that statement as a threat.
* * *
