Navarro's Promise (15 page)

“I need you, Mica.” Dark, a rough rasp of hunger against her ear, his voice stroked over her senses. “Do you remember how good it was, Amaya, at the hotel? How it hurt to stop?”

Of course she remembered. She would never forget.

“It could be that way again.” He was moving. He was moving her, though she wasn’t certain where until she felt her rear meet the hard, smooth wood of the buffet that sat at the side of the room.

“The bedroom,” she whispered, forcing her eyes open to stare back at him, almost gasping at the sight of the Breed now standing between her spread thighs.

His face was tight, savage with lust; his black eyes gleamed like polished onyx and glowed with a hidden fire. Jaw clenched, his hands gripping her hips, his hair falling around his face, he looked like a sex god rising before her.

And she wanted him. She wanted him until her entire body felt on fire.

She swallowed tightly. “Is it the heat?” Mating heat. Was he her mate and their bodies just hadn’t quite caught up yet?

“Not heat.” His hands gripped the hem of her sweater.

Mica didn’t fight. She couldn’t fight.

God, he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

Lifting her arms, she let him draw the light cashmere from her body before he tossed it carelessly to the floor beside them. Next, he flicked open the front clasp of her bra, drew it from her and tossed it to the floor as well.

Licking her lips, Mica told herself she wasn’t disappointed.

“You’ll break my heart.” She could already feel the grief beginning to churn inside her. “When you leave me, when you find your mate—”

And those were the last words he allowed her.

CHAPTER 8

Mica had dreamed of Navarro over the years. She’d had fantasies, she’d made up daydreams, and she had imagined every way possible that he could touch her. If there was a touch she hadn’t felt, a response she hadn’t imagined, or a position that he hadn’t taken her in during those fantasies, dreams and daydreams, then Mica couldn’t find it in all the years she had been fantasizing.

But this, the way he was making her feel, equal parts erotic courage and sensual fear, she couldn’t have imagined she could ever feel anything like this.

She hadn’t felt this way the night she had lost her virginity, or at any time before or since.

As Navarro’s fingers threaded in her hair and pulled it back, a low moan dug into her chest and her lips parted as his tongue stroked against them.

The nettled sensation of his fingers tugging at her hair sent a wash of echoing pleasure through every nerve ending in her body. Then his tongue pressed past her lips, found her tongue, and stroked.

It was there again, that hint of honey. Just a taste of it, so subtle and light it almost wasn’t there. But added to it was a taste that reminded her of a midnight mist in the mountains. It was dark, seductive. It eased into her senses rather than tearing through them. His lips slanted over hers, his tongue stroking, licking, possessing her as Mica felt her hands moving up his chest, to his neck, burying themselves in his hair and holding him to her as though she were terrified he would stop.

She needed this. How could a woman need a kiss as though it were food or drink, if it wasn’t mating heat?

Her tongue licked at his again as his stroked over hers. Tightening her lips on it, she could feel his surprise as she suckled at it delicately for the few seconds he allowed her.

From there, the kiss became equally as playful as it was lustful and driven.

With each second that their lips stroked and played, Mica could feel her pussy growing wetter, spilling to the sensitive folds and her swollen clit, moistening her panties.

Her body was preparing itself, knowing what was coming. Knowing the stretch and burn would be eased by the heavy slickness.

Arching against him, she tried to wrap her legs around his hips, add the exquisite pressure of his cock throbbing against her, even if it was separated from her by the denim she wore, for the moment.

Because she knew this was going to happen. After all these years, all the fantasies, all the years of wishing, hoping and fearing, it was going to happen.

His fingers pulled from her hair, causing Mica to give a low, desperate moan. The sound of it shocked her, almost pulling her from the sensual undercurrents beginning to swirl around them.

The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking against her back stilled the little edge of fear. Lifting to him as much as possible, distantly thanking God and Ely for the shot the doctor had given her for the bruised ribs and the pain they caused. Because the pain wouldn’t interfere now. It wouldn’t break through the haze of pleasure or affect the swirling hunger.

It allowed her to wrap her arms tighter around his neck, to lift closer to him.

“Navarro—” The protest was torn from her as his lips slid from hers, though she dragged in much needed air, almost gasping as his lips slid to her neck, caressing down the sensitive column and over the reactive flesh of her shoulder. Once he reached the rounded curve, his teeth nipped with a sensual roughness that had her back arching and her breath panting.

Nerve endings sizzled in exquisite delight at the rough rasp of his teeth, her lashes fluttering helplessly as she fought to open her eyes, to find her balance amid the sensations spinning rapidly out of control through her body.

“I love the taste of you.” The primal sound of his voice sent wracking chills of pleasure racing up her spine. “So sweet and hot, Mica. You could easily become my addiction.”

His addiction, but not his mate.

The flash of pain that clenched her chest was confusing but did little to stifle the rapidly building need burning through her.

She ached for him. She’d been aching for him for years.

His lips moved from her shoulder blade, spreading slow, heated kisses and hungry licks along a path that would lead straight to the straining tips of her breasts.

If she could wait long enough for him to complete his journey. The hunger beginning to twist through her threatened all that careful, certain control she’d had over herself for all these years.

“You make me dizzy,” she whispered breathlessly as his head lifted, his gaze so dark, so velvet black and intent she felt as though she were sinking inside it.

“Just dizzy, my Mica?” Guttural, rasping with arousal, his voice was deeper, more animalistic than ever before.

Mica let her lashes drift over her eyes as she fought to block out reality, to block out the thought of morning when it came, and Navarro’s mate when he found her. To block out the thought of the pain she would feel when she lost him.

She had the moment, the here and now. And here and now he was hers, and he wasn’t pulling away from her.

It was going to happen, she could feel it. Navarro was hard, insistent, his entire being centered on having her. She could stop him, but she would be the only one that could do it. And she didn’t have the strength to even attempt it. The will to push him away, to have him stop touching her, stop wrapping her in such incredible pleasure, was unthinkable.

She was helpless against him now, needy, as hungry for his touch as he seemed to be for hers.

Her hands moved from his hair as his lips returned to her. His palms cupped the sides of her breasts, the pads of his thumbs raking over the tender tips of her nipples as his lips devoured hers once again. Slanting across hers, his tongue pressing between, possessing her mouth as the subtle sweet taste of honey tempted her senses with a promise of more of its sensual sweetness.

Lost in the rioting sensations rushing through her system, Mica was only barely aware of being lifted against him, the lightest twinge of discomfort in her ribs quickly forgotten as Navarro held her to him and took the few long strides to the opened door of her bedroom.

He broke the kiss as he set her on her feet. They were both panting. It was a good thing the need for air was natural, otherwise Mica didn’t know if she could have found the ability to remember how to breathe.

Her fingers were moving instinctively to the bare muscular expanse of his powerful chest. She could feel his heart beating, hard and insistent, almost as fast as her own. He wanted her. He wanted her, when as far as she could ever learn there had never been another woman within Haven that he had wanted, or that he had taken.

His fingers were at the snap of her jeans, releasing them, pushing them over her hips and helping her to remove them.

Mica was on the verge of moaning at the sheer carnal heat that flooded her body, and sent her juices flooding her pussy, as he knelt before her, his head at her lower stomach, his lips stroking across it as Mica stared down at him in dazed fascination.

She’d never felt, never experienced anything so incredibly sexy in her life. She’d never read anything this sexy. Never watched it. She hadn’t believed it could exist or that she would ever experience it.

“I didn’t fantasize about this,” she whispered breathlessly. “I didn’t know . . .” Her fingers landed on his shoulders, her nails biting into them as his lips parted and his teeth nipped her flesh sensually.

She couldn’t believe it was happening. It seemed that as long as she had known Cassie Sinclair, she had known Navarro Blaine, and for almost that long, she had been waiting breathlessly for this touch.

“Spread your legs, Mica.” His hand pressed between her thighs, pushing at the inner muscle of one as she trembled before him.

“I don’t know if I can stand up.” Her knees were weak, tremors of pleasure racing through her and stealing her strength.

“I’ll hold you up, baby.” His fingers brushed against the swollen, slick curves of her pussy as Mica heard the pleading, needy little groan torn from her own throat.

Spreading her legs, she watched, barely daring to breathe now as electric, burning sensation sizzled everywhere he touched her. Parting the saturated curls that covered her pussy, his fingers stroked through the narrow slit, caressing, stroking down, then up and around her swollen clit, before easing back to the entrance of her pussy once again. Once there, he rimmed the opening, pressing and rubbing against it firmly.

“I’m going to push my fingers inside you, Mica.” He teased at the opening as her gaze lifted to his, watching the black of his eyes as he stared back at her. “I want to fuck you with my fingers, baby. I need you ready. I need your snug little pussy so hungry that the pleasure borders pain, and taking me will be easier.”

Her hips tilted forward, the unashamed pleading in the act bringing a rumbling growl from him as his fingers began to ease inside her.

She wasn’t going to be able to stand. She couldn’t. She could feel her legs weakening, becoming rubbery as she fought to stand in place, to take as much pleasure as possible.

As each digit pushed slowly forward, the delicate inner muscles stretched and her juices spilled to his fingers, the pleasure stealing the strength from her body.

She was leaning heavily against him now, eyes closed, the whimpering cries tearing from her throat as her nails bit into his shoulders.

His fingers, the pads a bit calloused, the fingers lean and strong, forged inside her as his head bent, his tongue licking the tender flesh just above her mound.

His fingers pushed farther inside her, a deliberately dominative, quick thrust that filled her halfway and arched her back as a cry tore from her. His fingertips rubbed, caressed and set off a series of internal explosions of pleasure so intense she swore she would melt right there onto the floor.

Exquisite agony raced through her, tightening her pussy around his fingers, the muscles fluttering around them as convulsive orgasmic clenches overtook the snug inner muscles.

She could feel the moisture gathering and spreading in the narrow channel as he stroked his fingers inside, spreading her flesh, easing it, stretching it with slow, burning intensity.

Her hips writhed, thrusting against his fingers with slow, rolling movements, her breath panting from her chest.

“So sweet and tight.” His lips brushed against her lower stomach as he worked his fingers deeper inside her, scissoring them, stretching her with an exquisite, unbearable pleasure pain.

His tongue licked over her lower stomach before laying in a series of hard, hot kisses that moved steadily lower. His fingers worked inside her pussy, scissoring, thrusting, his wrists twisting as he fucked her with smooth, delicious strokes that built the flames burning across her nerve endings.

“You’re killing me,” she cried out desperately as a firm thrust separated and stretched her before his wrist twisted, screwing his fingers inside her and sending a burst of ecstatic pleasure surging through her system.

Rather than answering her, his head went lower, lips parting, and as she watched in amazement, his tongue pressed against her clit before flickering around it with quick, destructive strokes.

Digging her fingers into the heavy strands of hair Mica held on tight and pressed closer, gasping for breath as she tried to hold him nearer to her. To force his lips to her clit rather than his teasing tongue, as she fought to stay upright, to breathe, to maintain sanity.

Oh God, it was so good. The heated moisture of his tongue, the threat of his lips as he laid a perfect, suckling kiss to the sensitive bud.

The pressure sent shards of erotic sensation racing through her and clenching her womb in the desperate need to come. His fingers speared inside her pussy, stretched and stroked until that need was like a wildfire whipping across her flesh.

Her inner muscles flexed convulsively as the need throbbed through her. Her flesh was too sensitive, the need too intense, as hunger tore through her mind.

“I need you,” she panted, forcing her eyes open to stare down at him. “Please, Navarro, let me come. I need to come.”

That need was burning inside her. It flamed through her pussy, tightened her clit and clenched her womb as she strained to fall from the edge of the exquisite tension she seemed poised on.

He stared up at her, heavy, thick black lashes shadowing his midnight eyes as he let her watch. Watch his tongue as he licked at her clit with an edge of restrained rapacious hunger and a growl seemed to rumble in his chest.

Firm, latently powerful, his fingers moved inside the violently sensitive flesh of her vagina, working deeper, stretching her sensually as those wicked black eyes stared back up at her, watching as she cried out helplessly and finally felt her legs lose the strength needed to hold her on her feet.

Navarro caught her, one powerful arm wrapping around her hips as he lowered her slowly, so slowly, until she was straddling his bare thighs, the engorged, overly thick length of his cock pressed between them.

Helpless against the overwhelming hunger beating at her, Mica ground her pussy against the heavy shaft as Navarro gripped the back of her head, holding it still as his lips covered hers.

The taste of honey was an aphrodisiac to her dazed senses as she felt his hands grip her ass and he rose to his feet in a powerful surge of strength.

Her knees gripped his hips, her lips parting beneath his to accept the thrust of his tongue between them.

Need became a desperate hunger raging through her system as her skin felt flushed, heat surging through her as her juices wept from her pussy to coat the hardened shaft grinding against it.

Mica felt her back meet the bed, Navarro rising over her, his lips eating at hers as his tongue licked and stroked, spreading the heated almost taste of honey to her tongue.

And she wanted more than that almost taste. More than his cock grinding against her mound. More than just his kisses.

As his tongue thrust between her lips once again, Mica found her lips closing on it, sucking it inside as Navarro froze against her for her a heart-stopping second.