Authors: Kate Douglas
Crystalfire (10 page)
This time he did growl. The low snarl that slipped out appeared to appeal to Willow. She watched him as he stared at her, at the bit of fabric covering her feminine mound that was somehow even sexier than if she’d been naked, and when he made that low, needy sound, she licked her lips and the muscles across her flat belly rippled. He’d seen her naked just hours ago, but he’d not reacted as he did now, not felt the thrumming in his veins or the pain in his balls.
Of course, then the beast hadn’t been awakened. Then he’d seen her as someone who needed him, a young woman who shouldn’t exist, who was unconscious and cold and required his help to protect her, to keep her warm.
He’d warmed her. Dear gods had he warmed her, but that’s when his motives had gotten somewhat tangled, when he’d first realized there was another side to the scholar. That was the first moment he’d recognized the wild side he’d kept buried all his life, because things had gotten pretty hot for him as well.
What had begun with a scholar’s fascination for the feel of her sleek length against him, the sweet scent of her hair, the sensation of their bodies so closely aligned, had quickly taken on a life of its own. He’d maintained control. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d not allowed himself to think beyond the fact that she needed him to help her.
Now, the tables had turned. Taron needed Willow. Desired her more than he’d ever desired anything or anyone in his life. He was shaking from head to foot by the time he stepped back from the bed, unfastened his jeans, and lowered the zipper. He was so hard, so erect, it was difficult to drag the zipper down over the thick length of his erection, harder still to pull his pants off over rigid muscles, to step out of the jeans and the cotton knit shorts.
Willow stared at him without any pretense at all. Didn’t she have any idea what it did to him, how his body reacted when she looked at him this way? Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. The intriguing scent wrapping around him had to be Willow’s arousal. It made him even harder, needier than before.
He paused for a moment, for one last frantic reminder, attempted to remind himself he was a man of reason. A scholar. He did not need, did not want what he should not have.
That other part of him, the wild part, rose up in frustrated denial. He had to know. Now. Needed to feel. Needed to experience life before the chance was forever lost.
He thought of Isra’s unspoken invitation, of how easy it had been to turn her down. He’d not felt any desire at all for her, a beautiful young woman who’d so obviously wanted him.
There was no way he could turn down the invitation in Willow’s eyes. No reason to deny himself what she so freely offered. What he was so willing to take.
He leaned over the bed, placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and slid one knee between her legs. His other foot remained on the floor, anchoring him. He stared at her for what felt like forever and was probably less than a heartbeat. She gazed back at him, so sweet, so utterly trusting, it felt like a punch to the gut.
Everything inside Taron came to a complete halt. His heart stopped, his breathing stopped in the very act of drawing a breath. The beast knew. Somehow, even with the blood pounding in his ears and his body so hard he was clawing for release, the wild creature inside knew he couldn’t take her alone. No, that other side of him had to be here, too. The gentle scholar, the one who questioned every move, who denied himself pleasure in all things.
That guy, too. Both sides of him, whole and complete. It was almost as if he felt the two halves come together, joining with an audible
click
as if separate parts were snapping into place.
click
as if separate parts were snapping into place.
He kissed her, both sides of him, once again claiming her lips, tasting her mouth, delving deep to tangle his tongue with hers, running the tip over her perfect teeth, across the roof of her mouth.
Kissed her with the full knowledge of his passion and the untamed creature that wanted to take her and keep her as his own, kissed her with the restraint of a man unwilling to frighten such a perfectly innocent, trusting soul.
She kissed him back without restraint, unafraid, tasting him, exploring with her mouth while her body slowly writhed against the bed, silently eloquent in her need. He left a row of tiny kisses along her jaw, the line of her throat. Followed the sharp jut of her collarbone and trailed kisses over her ribs. Her breasts were too perfect to ignore, and he laved those with his tongue, his lips, even nipping at the hard tips with his teeth.
He ached. His balls, his cock, the pit of his gut. Ached with need, with wanting something he’d never known. Yet as urgently as he wanted her, for the very fact this was new and wonderful and unexplored, he didn’t want to rush.
He had no idea what to expect, but he wasn’t about to hurry something along he might never have a chance to do again. This was, after all, about satisfying curiosity. Once satisfied, they’d have no reason to repeat, but he wasn’t going to worry about that now. Now he was willing to make the most of this one amazing opportunity, but just let the scholar try and keep him away from Willow again.
He would discover just how hard it was to cage a wild thing. Willow arched her hips, inviting him closer, but he wasn’t through exploring. She moaned.
“More,” she whispered. “I want more.”
Taron chuckled and nuzzled the tender underside of her breast. “I’m a philosopher, Willow. For every question, I must find an answer.” He teased her nipple with his tongue. “If I have answers, I need to know the questions.” Then he put all teasing aside, raised his head and stared into her guileless blue eyes. “There is so much I need to know. So much I want to experience. Let me explore, please?”
She growled. That was the only way to describe it, but it was Willow, not Bumper making that noise, and he loved it. He took the sound as a
yes
, trailed kisses across her flat belly and nipped the tender skin of her inner thigh. She had tight, blond curls between her legs, and he nuzzled those, drawn by her scent, by the promise of all the pleasures he knew those tight curls had to be hiding.
yes
, trailed kisses across her flat belly and nipped the tender skin of her inner thigh. She had tight, blond curls between her legs, and he nuzzled those, drawn by her scent, by the promise of all the pleasures he knew those tight curls had to be hiding.
He knelt between her legs and spread them wider, even more curious now. Her scent aroused him beyond rational thought. He glanced up and caught her frown, but she didn’t question him as he lifted her legs and draped them over his forearms. He felt as if both sides of him shared this experience, the part of him that was in touch with the instincts he’d denied for so long, and the one who needed to know everything.
When he leaned close and drew her scent deep into his lungs, it was the most natural thing in the world to put his mouth on her, to use his tongue and lips to taste her unique flavors.
It was just as natural to follow his instincts to arouse her, to make her somehow feel the same powerful needs that had his heart hammering in his chest and his cock swollen high and hard against his belly. He had no idea how he knew to do the things he did, but the knowledge was there. The desire to lick deep between her velvety folds, to find that tiny nub at the top and gently concentrate his attention there.
As devoid of passion as Lemurians had become over so many centuries, he was amazed the instincts had even survived, amazed that the beast still existed, but he wasn’t about to question something that felt so unbelievably right.
He licked, unable to avoid analyzing the taste, the texture, the scent. He wanted more, but he didn’t want to stop, either. So much was beginning to make sense to him—the things he’d heard the soldiers say about sex, the whispered comments, the jokes. It was only the working class that ever discussed anything so ribald as sex, though many among the aristocracy were mated for life.
He’d always wondered what it was that held couples together for a lifetime. Now he knew.
Willow whimpered and he licked harder, changing the speed, the depth, the approach. That tiny knot between her thighs seemed to bring the most response, and he worked it carefully with his lips and tongue.
Sensing that she skated on the edge of orgasm, he carefully kneaded the round globes of her bottom as he made love to her with his mouth. She flooded him with moisture, a sweet release that had him growling deep in his chest.
This was the precursor of her climax. He knew it with a sure sense of what Willow was feeling, what her scattered thoughts were telling him. He thought of connecting telepathically, but it didn’t seem right, to intrude on what had to be for Willow as much a journey of discovery as it was for him, but he didn’t hesitate to absorb the thoughts spilling out of her open mind.
Part of him was insisting he enter her then, that he finally ease the pain of his own amazingly sensitive erection, but the purity of this moment, of this chance to share Willow’s very first climax was more than he could bear to waste.
In this, the scholar won.
He’d pleasured himself on occasion, when he was younger, when his body was ripe with the hormones of youth, but not for many years had he felt the need. He’d buried all those desires, all those physical needs he’d come to see as weaknesses, as he pursued more scholarly interests.
And while he’d been merely existing without living, he’d also managed to avoid any risk of falling in love.
What a damned, pompous fool he’d been. He’d lied to himself his entire life, and he’d allowed fear to rule him. But he hadn’t known. Hadn’t realized what he was missing.
But part of him had known. That other side, the more primitive creature he’d contained for most of his life, had known. But now that wild, almost feral beast, was free. Under control to a certain extent, but free to remind Taron of what he’d missed by chaining such a powerful part of himself.
This was utterly amazing, this sense of desire building between his heart and his soul, all fed by the needs of his body, by the chance to experience Willow’s tastes, her scent, her feminine textures.
This was the thing he should have been learning about, discussing with his fellows, exploring in whatever manner he could. This act, these sensations—they were the things that drove men to greater heights. Sex had to be more important than he’d been told, a necessary life-experience he’d never understood.
Because he hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted to learn, to know.
Again, he thought ...
what a fool I’ve been.
what a fool I’ve been.
He wrapped his lips around that tiny nubbin, knowing full well that this would take Willow over the edge. At the same time he managed to wrap his arms around her legs and reach the soft, wet opening to her sex. Stroking with his thumbs, he brushed gently against her outer lips, suckled and licked and felt her body surge against his mouth, felt the clenching of her muscles, heard the cry as it crossed her lips.
Burying his face between her legs, he brought her over the top, felt her shivering, trembling, rippling release as her body arched against his grasp, as her rich flavors filled his senses. Then he slowly eased her down the other side, licking, sucking, touching, until her legs hung limply over his forearms and her breath no longer rushed noisily from her lungs.
Only then did he carefully set her legs back on the bed and move over her. He wrapped his hand around his thick length and pressed gently at the damp and swollen lips of her sex. She opened her eyes and gazed at him, blinking slowly. Then she smiled, carefully parted her thighs, and invited him to enter.
Taron! Willow’s still got puppy parts. Are you sure you want to make puppies?
“Nine hells and then some. Bumper? What the hell are you talking about?” Startled out of his sexual haze, he sat back on his heels and glared at Willow. He’d entirely forgotten about the blasted dog! His erect penis thumped against his belly, his balls ached, and suddenly he had a gods-be-damned dog talking about puppies?
Then he realized Willow looked as shocked as he felt.
“I forgot about the dog,” he said.
“I forgot about the puppy parts.” Willow raised up on her elbows. “I know there’s something Dax and Eddy do to prevent babies. Look in that drawer.”
He glanced at the small table beside the bed, leaned over Willow, and tugged on the drawer. “There’s just a box of little packages in here.”
“Good. Eddy calls them condoms. Take one out and put it on that.”
She pointed at his penis, which wasn’t nearly as impressive as it had been a moment ago. He pulled out a small packet and carefully tore it across the top. “What do I do with this?”
“You use it to cover yourself before you put it in me. It catches the stuff that makes puppies ... uhm, babies.” Laughing now, she sat up and took it out of his hand.
He handed it over. His hands were shaking, but it wasn’t from laughter. Far from it.
“Here.” She smiled. “I’ll do it.”
This wasn’t going at all the way he’d expected, but when Willow wrapped her fingers around him, he surged back to full size almost immediately. She placed the clear disk over his unbelievably sensitive tip and slowly rolled it down to sheath him in what looked like a clear film of some kind.
She used both hands to stroke his full length, smoothing the film over his erection. He groaned and his cock jerked in her grasp. He took a deep, controlling breath and tried to spend a moment observing what she’d just done to him.
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