“I like the term making love better. We’ll do that instead.”
Girly names changed nothing. Fucking was still f**king. “Not going to happen. I’d really rather not hurt you, but if you don’t move away, I’m afraid I’ll do just that.”
“No, you won’t,” she said with complete confidence.
Her mouth nibbled at the corner of his, coaxing him to join in and kiss her back. Her breath filled his lungs, making his head spin. He couldn’t think straight when she was kissing him. He needed backup.
“Drake,” he yelled, a little more breathlessly than he’d intended.
“He’s outside with Helen. They’re guarding the house, letting you rest and recover.”
“You’re sure as hell not letting me rest.”
“You’ll rest better after.”
After he’d made her scream his name in cli**x. After he’d come inside her.
It sounded way too good, too right.
He knew it wasn’t, though. He knew how wrong it would be to claim her like that when he knew the next chance he got, he’d go to his death. Only this time, he’d do it right. He’d go too far away for anyone to find. He’d make sure there was no chance of getting out of it. He’d lock Nika away, drug her, tie her up—something—anything to keep her from following him.
Her mouth settled over his and the ability to think about anything else vanished. The tip of her tongue slid along the seam of his lips, tempting him to open up and let her inside.
If he did, he wouldn’t stop. He knew that. He wasn’t strong enough to come back from an openmouthed, all-out kiss with Nika.
Madoc turned his head, feeling a line of sweat breaking out along his brow.
“I’m too weak for this. I’ve just been poisoned, woman. Have a heart.”
He could feel her smile against his lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work.”
She was going to kill him. Madoc wasn’t going to need to find a nest of Synestryn. Nika was right here, twisting his insides, making his brain overheat until he knew it would explode.
He locked his lips together tight, refusing her entrance.
Nika sat back, sliding her hands over his chest, down his arm. Her fingers kneaded his muscles, as if enjoying the feel of them. She lifted his right hand and placed it over her breast. “It’s okay if you touch me,” she said.
Madoc let out an involuntary groan of need.
Her nipple beaded up against his palm. His fingers curled in against his will, cupping her. “No. It’s really not.” And yet he couldn’t pull his hand away. He was going to have to cut his arm off to get himself to stop touching her.
Nika smiled down at him. It was a knowing, purely feminine smile filled with the promise of heaven and hell combined.
He stared at her, wondering what she was going to do next. Would she slide his hand under her shirt, or maybe strip out of it so he could see his hand moving over her nak*d skin?
Oh, yeah. That was definitely what he wanted to do. Naked Nika.
Instead, she started kneading his hand, pressing on all the small muscles he used to grip his sword.
A moan of pure bliss erupted from his lips and his eyes closed as he enjoyed the feel of her fingers massaging him.
A second later, he felt the ring Iain had given him slide from his finger and his world came crashing to an end.
He jackknifed up in the bed, grabbing at the ring, but Nika had flung it across the room, out of sight. “No!” he shouted, but it was too late.
He felt the last leaf of his lifemark complete its fall, felt the last part of his soul’s light wink out, and then a calm sort of numbness descended upon him.
He looked at Nika’s face, saw a flash of worry shine in her blue eyes, but it didn’t matter. She’d done this to him, and now she was going to face the consequences.
Whatever reason he’d had a moment ago to hold back had gone—vanished into oblivion. All that was left was his hard, aching c*ck and the woman straddling him.
A smile gradually stretched his mouth. “Playtime.”
John had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for Meghan. She’d laid her clothes near the fire to dry them, and though she’d tried to be discreet and hide them under her damp shirt, he’d seen her lay her panties out, too. Which meant she was bare beneath the loose flannel pants he’d given her.
He’d picked them because they’d shrunk when he’d washed them and were the smallest thing he had. He hadn’t imagined that the green and tan plaid would turn him on nearly as much as it had.
John handed her a mug of hot cocoa and grabbed the blanket off his bed. Maybe if he covered her up, he’d be able to keep his thoughts where they belonged and off her body.
Her blond hair was short and damp along the tips where it had gotten wet in the shower. It clung to her neck, baring her throat. The neckline of his sweatshirt gaped, showing off the delicate line of her collarbones. For one insane moment, he wanted to lean forward and press an openmouthed kiss along the smooth skin between her neck and shoulder.
He wondered if she had a bra on under that sweatshirt, or if every time he wore it from now on, he’d think about the fact that her bare n**ples had grazed the fabric sliding against his chest.
Meghan curled her legs under her and accepted the blanket with a thankful smile. “So, what brought you out in the snow tonight?” she asked.
John wasn’t going to tell her about his odd dreams. He didn’t want her thinking he was some kind of lunatic. Instead, he lied. “I’d gone into town for supplies to ride out the storm. Guess I should have gone earlier.”
“How long do the snows up here normally last?”
“The forecast said it would stop by morning.”
“That’s good. I have no idea how you can live with this cold.”
It hit him then that she clearly wasn’t from around here. The idea that she would soon be on her way back to her life bothered him, though he had no idea why it should.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Phoenix.”
“Wow. That’s a long way to come. Do you have family in the area?”
“No.”
“Here for work?”
“No. I just thought it would be nice to visit a place I’d never been to before. Guess I should have checked the weather first, huh?”
Something in the way she said it made him think she was lying, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “Guess so.”
She lowered her eyes, staring at his chest. “I’m sorry to have put you out like this.”
“It’s fine. Really. I’m only here for a few more days, anyway.”
“You don’t live here?”
“I vacation here, but my time is almost up. Got to get back to the grind.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a builder. I have a new development we’re breaking ground on as soon as the last of the permits are in. Lake homes, mostly.”
Her eyes lit up. “Sounds fabulous. I’ve always thought it would be fun to be an architect and design homes.”
“So, why not do it?”
She sipped her cocoa. A bit of foam clung to her upper lip and John had to grit his teeth to keep from licking it away so he could taste the sweetness of melted marshmallows against her skin.
“I was thinking about it. Then Dad got sick.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. He’s better now. It was bad for a while, but he’s back to his old self now. I think he’s got himself a girlfriend.” She said that last part with a smile that made her eyes light up.
In that moment, she was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and that sense of recognition he’d had when he first saw her came rushing back. He knew her. Somehow. He had to. How else could it be that he would look at her and everything inside him would feel . . . right?
He reached out and slid his finger over hers as they cupped the mug. Her skin was incredibly soft and warm, and it was all he could do to keep his touch innocent, when what he really wanted was to strip her bare and glide his hands over every nak*d inch of her.
She went still, staring at him with wide eyes. He watched her pupils dilate and her lips part as she pulled in a deep breath.
John took the cocoa from her hands and set it aside.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands. She didn’t fight him; in fact, if anything, she leaned toward him.
He stared at her mouth. She licked her lips and that small movement made him feel like someone had applied an electric current to his spine.
“I have no idea,” he replied, and settled his mouth on hers.
At first, her kiss was hesitant, but as soon as his tongue swept out over her lip, tasting the sweetness left behind, that changed.
Meghan’s mouth opened and she went up on her knees, grabbing his head in a fierce grip. Her tongue played with his, stroking him in a way that made him think of hot bodies sliding against each other. A low, needy sound purred in her chest, and her fingernails dug into his scalp.
She pulled away, panting, staring at him with a mixture of lust and accusation. “What did you do to me?” she demanded. “Did you drug me?”
“Never. I swear I’d never do that to a woman.” But he knew what she meant. Even after a few brief seconds of her kiss, John was ready to lay himself out and let her do as she willed with him. Normally, it took him weeks before he decided to sleep with a woman—sex simply wasn’t worth the headache that came after a breakup, and at thirty-two he sure as hell wasn’t some young, punky kid who let his dick lead the way.
But none of his normal commonsense morals were anywhere to be found right now. His head was spinning like he was drunk and his entire body was shaking with the effort of resisting the need to sink inside her sweet body over and over until he could no longer lift his head. Whatever was going on here wasn’t normal.
He just couldn’t bring himself to care.
John slid his hands down her neck and splayed his fingers out over the skin his loose sweatshirt left bare. She was so slender and delicate. So soft. If he didn’t kiss her again, he wasn’t sure he’d survive. Still, he couldn’t do this if she didn’t want him.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, tensing as he waited for her response.
Her shoulders lifted and fell with each rapid breath. Her cheeks were flushed, as was her mouth. Her hands still had a tight hold on his head and he could feel her fingers moving over his scalp in indecision.
“No. I should but I don’t,” she finally said, and John’s world began to spin again.
A smile slowly filled his soul as he lowered his head to kiss her. She tasted of chocolate and the promise of hidden pleasure, and he knew in that moment that he’d never get enough of her.
Meghan never slept with strangers. Never. Until now.
John’s clever fingers had them both stripped nak*d before she even knew it had happened. The worn fabric of the couch was rough against her back, but she didn’t mind. Her body was singing and warm and the taste of John filled her head until there was no room for anything else.