Page 58

When it Finally Happens (And by “It,” I Mean…)

W hen I leave the room, I hesitate.

I have no intention of going to my own bed. I’m leaving at dawn. Alone. That doesn’t mean I have to be alone tonight. But it occurs to me that I don’t actually know where Khaosti sleeps.

What am I supposed to do? Go knock on every door until I find him?

I’m still standing undecided at the bottom of the stairs when a noise from above startles me. I look up.

Problem solved.

Khaosti stands at the top of the stairs. He’s still dressed as he was at dinner, and my gaze drops down over his long, lean body, then back up, lingering on the way. When I reach his face, I suck in a breath. He’s staring down at me out of heavy-lidded eyes, his expression intense, his lips slightly parted.

I hold myself still as he slowly makes his way down the staircase to come to a halt in front of me.

I lick my lips, and his gaze follows the movement, his nostrils flaring.

He doesn’t speak, and the seconds stretch out. There’s a sense of inevitability to our meeting. This is going to happen. I’ve known that from the moment he first kissed me. Actually, that’s not true. I’ve known it from the moment I crashed into him back on Earth. I took one look at him, and some deep, dark part of me knew he was supposed to be mine. But I shut the knowledge away, locking it in a corner of my mind along with my memories.

It wouldn’t have worked. Oh, I’m sure the sex would have been out of this world, but emotionally, I wasn’t ready to handle the consequences of intimacy with a man like Khaosti. I couldn’t have met him as an equal then. There was too much of me missing.

That’s no longer the case.

I can more than meet him halfway.

But I want to be out of here, in the fresh air, under the stars. I reach out my hand, and he slides his fingers into mine, and that now-familiar jolt of electricity leaps between us. My whole body tingles. Without a word, I lead him to the door and out into the night. The moon has risen and lights the path to the clearing in the forest.

We don’t speak on the way. I’ve nothing to say right now—words can wait. Anticipation is tightening my muscles and my skin, catching my breath.

My memories have returned, but I was right—I’ve never done this before. Never even come close to wanting to. Now want and need are warring inside me, heating my blood, sizzling along my nerves.

As we step into the clearing, Khaosti tugs me around so we’re facing each other. He still doesn’t speak, just lowers his head and kisses me. As his mouth touches mine, something almost primeval awakens inside me. My lips part, and he fills me with the hard push of his tongue, flooding my mouth with the taste of heat and spice.

He urges me back until I hit the smooth trunk of one of the huge trees circling the clearing. He raises his head, and we both gasp for air, and then he’s kissing me again. Long, drawn-out kisses that make my knees weak and my blood turn to fire.

The long length of his body presses into me, and I hold onto his shoulders, rubbing myself against him. I hardly notice as his hands grip the sides of my T-shirt, only realizing it when he breaks off the kiss to tug it over my head and toss it to the ground.

He takes a sharp breath as he stares down at my naked breasts. My nipples pucker in the cool air, or maybe it’s the intensity of Khaosti’s heated gaze.

His hands slide down my sides, my skin tingling. I hold my breath as he lowers his head, his tongue swiping across my nipple, sending pleasure shooting through my body, settling low in my belly. Then he sucks it into his warm mouth; only his hands on my hips stop me from collapsing to the ground. He repeats the process with my other nipple, biting down—pleasure and pain—causing a moan to escape my throat. His hands are at my waist now, unfastening my pants. He shoves them over my hips, taking my panties with them. I kick off my boots, and then I’m naked.

He steps back and just looks at me. In the gleaming moonlight, his expression turns wolfish, a feral glint in his amber eyes. Then he hauls off his own T-shirt, and it’s my turn to stare because he’s perfect, all sleek, lean muscle. But I don’t have long to appreciate him because we’re kissing again. This time I slide my tongue into his mouth and nip at his lips with my teeth, and he groans.

Then he falls to his knees in front of me, and I run my hands through his black, silky hair as he presses his lips against my bare stomach.

I go still.

Oh, I know where this is going, and I definitely don’t want it to stop. At the same time, I’m not sure I can take it without spontaneously combusting. Still, I’m willing to take the risk.

His breath ruffles the curls at the base of my belly, and my sex feels hot and swollen. Then he kisses me there, and my body turns into one big ache of need.

If he stops now, I’ll die.

But he doesn’t stop. His tongue snakes out, sliding between the folds of my sex, and nothing has ever felt so good. He lifts one of my legs and drapes it over his shoulder, baring me to his touch.

I peer down as he opens me with his clever fingers and then presses his mouth to my core, the sight so erotic that my blood burns in my veins. I’m conscious of nothing but his touch. His tongue pushes inside me, and my head goes back. He licks long, slow strokes along my sex, then circles my clit. It pulses with need, and my hand tightens in his hair as my hips push against him, needing more.

Inside me, everything is tightening, building. I’m hovering on the edge of something, and I know I will fall at any moment. And I don’t care. Then he sucks my clit into his mouth, bites down ever so gently, and the world explodes in a kaleidoscope of colors. Waves of pleasure wash over me, and I ride them. He sucks again, and I’m flying.

When I come back to myself, I’m lying on the ground, boneless and replete, my body still throbbing with the memory of pleasure beyond anything I ever imagined. I’m so glad I didn’t do what Hecate said and go to bed alone. This is so much better.

Khaosti stands over me. He’s looking a little smug, but maybe he deserves it.

I grin.

That was amazing. And there’s more to come—at least, there had better be.

I study him; he’s still got his pants on, but I can see the long line of his erection pressing against the material. It makes my mouth water. He gives me a slow smile as he notices the direction of my gaze, then his hands move to his waist, and he slowly flicks open the first button. Then the next.

I hold my breath.

He pauses while he kicks off his boots.

Then he’s back to his striptease, and finally, he pushes his pants down over his hips.

My eyes widen. He’s big and hard. Too big? My body doesn’t think so. I’m melting from the inside out.

He stalks over to stand between my legs, and I widen them as he drops to his knees.

A faint shudder of fear ripples through me. Maybe he sees the flicker of it in my eyes because something flashes across his face—concern, maybe.

“You want this?” he asks. They are the first words we’ve spoken since we met on the stairs.

I nod, unable to speak. But honestly, if he tries to stop now, I might die from frustration. I come up on one elbow and reach out. My fingers flutter over the head of his cock, and he hisses an indrawn breath. I slide my hand around him and squeeze. It’s all the encouragement he needs. He lowers himself toward me, and I reluctantly release him until he hovers over me, resting his weight on one elbow. He kisses me with long, drugging kisses while his big hand slides across my belly and between my thighs. I close my eyes as he pushes one finger inside me. I’m so wet—he must know how desperately I want him.

I feel him position himself at the entrance to my body, then he goes still.

I open my eyes, and he’s gazing down at me.

Then he thrusts into me with one fluid move of his powerful hips. There’s no pain, just a wonderful sense of completeness.

Mine.

The words whisper through my mind. I’m not sure which of us they come from—maybe both.

Then I stop thinking because he’s moving on me. In me. Pushing inside me hard, then the slow, exquisite drag as he withdraws. I wrap my legs around him, trying to pull him deeper as he grinds against my sex.

Already the pleasure is building again—the throb of my clit, the tingling of my sensitive flesh. His hands shift beneath me to cup my ass and press me tighter against him, rotating my hips.

My hands claw at him, my nails digging into his skin, urging him on. I’m not sure my body can hold all this pleasure. But then I’m coming again. I throw back my head and scream into the night.

And suddenly, I notice that something is very wrong. There’s something inside me, hammering to get out, clamoring for freedom. I blink and shake my head as the pressure builds.

He goes still above me. “Amber? Are you okay?”

But whatever it was is gone. I tell myself it’s just that this is all so new—I have a talent for self-deception. But right now, it’s about me and Khaosti. Everything else can wait until the light of day. I tighten my legs around him, buck against him, and he’s moving again, jerky and desperate, and… I feel the moment he releases his control and spills himself inside me.

I tighten my legs around him, as if I can already feel his loss, and we lie together in a tangle of sweat-slick limbs. After a while, he moves, turning to reverse our positions, and I’m sprawled on top of his naked body. I push myself up so I can peer into his face.

He looks different. The restlessness that always seems present in him is gone. He reminds me of a great beast that’s fed and sated.

“That was… amazing,” I murmur, and a slow smile curls his lips. “Is it always like that?” I ask.

“It’s never like that.” His hands glide over my skin, pulling me closer. “We need to talk,” he says. “Something happened.”

I grin. “It certainly did.”

He smiles but shakes his head. “Are you sure you weren’t bitten?”

“Totally.” Where’s he going with this?

“I saw something in your eyes. And you felt something—”

“Oh yeah.” So he noticed. But I don’t want to talk about weird stuff right now. I just want to enjoy this time together. “Sleep now. Talk later,” I suggest.

I rest my head against his chest. But I have no intention of sleeping. I don’t want to miss a second of our time together.

I try to analyze what I’m feeling. I think it might be happiness. It’s hard to be sure because I don’t think I’ve ever been truly happy before. But the emotion is tinged with a sense of loss because I know it’s so fleeting.

“I guess you’re right,” Khaosti murmurs against my hair. “There will be time enough to talk tomorrow.”

I slow my breathing, and soon his heartbeat slows in time with mine, and his breathing changes as he falls asleep.

I feel such tenderness for this man who may or may not love me. I press myself against him and listen to his breaths, counting each one.

Then, in the early hours when I sense that dawn is not far away, I slip out of his hold. He rolls onto his side, and I catch my breath, but he doesn’t wake up.

My clothes are scattered, and I have to search for them, all the while expecting him to wake. But he sleeps on. I realize he hasn’t slept for days. He must be exhausted.

I dress quickly, then head away, only to turn back at the edge of the trees and tiptoe back to him for one last look.

I stand over him.

“I love you,” I murmur. Maybe part of me hopes he will wake up. But he sleeps on.

And I turn and walk away.