Drake Sisters 06 - Turbulent Sea
needs to do that for your protection.'
She peeped out from under her lashes to see if he'd gone up in flames for that lie. 'Even you, Mr. No Expression, can't keep a straight face. It's a wonder lightning didn't strike you dead. You're a dictator. You want every little thing your way'
'Only with you.'
'I'll ask Nikitin sometime if that's the truth.'
Something dangerous swirled in the depths of his eyes. 'You stay far away from that man. I mean it, Joley'
She started to sit, anger sweeping through her, but his heavy arm simply dropped across her, holding her down. Joley suppressed the childish urge to bite him. 'I'm not being soothed here. I thought you weren't going to make me crazy. I think you made my point for me.'
'I don't particularly give a damn if you get mad, just for once in your life listen to someone who knows more than you do. Nikitin is dangerous, particularly to you, so stay far away from him. You don't like him, so there's no reason for your childish defiance.'
Joley studied his face. Something wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. 'Now you're deliberately provoking me. Why? I wonder.' She reached up a hand and slid her fingers over his face, tracing the lines and shaping the bones.
He turned his face to press his mouth against her palm in a slow, burning kiss. Her entire body clenched, the demand urgent. Every nerve ending flared to life. Deliberately, his gaze holding hers, he lapped over his mark with his tongue, a long, slow lick that stole her breath as she felt it deep inside her, in her most feminine core. His tongue drew a lazy circle, and a moan escaped her throat. Her body was on fire, damp and needy, the pressure building as if his tongue was buried between her legs. She felt hot and dizzy, unable even to lift her head in protest. She couldn't think with the pleasure bursting through her.
He stroked again with his tongue, made the same circles until the throbbing between her legs built and built. He isn 't doing anything but touching his tongue to my palm . The thought was terrifying. She was close to an orgasm, feeling his tongue on her clit rather than on her palm. How? She and her sisters had gifts, but to her knowledge, none of them had ever experienced anything like this. She didn't understand it, or how Ilya could possibly be the one to take over her body when she was always the one in control. When she was with him, her body melted, gave itself to him like a sacrifice, and there seemed little she could do to prevent it.
'There's no giving you up,' he murmured against her palm. 'This says you belong to me, and me to you.'
Mutely she shook her head. Or maybe it wasn't mutely, maybe she was whimpering her denial. She had been so needy for so long, her body craving his to the point that she'd thrown herself at him in the hopes of ridding herself of the obsession. Now he was so close, larger than life, dominating her personal space, the scent and heat of him surrounding her. His melody suddenly took on dark erotic notes that tugged at her nipples until they were pebble-hard.
Sensual notes throbbed and pulsed and moaned, licking over her skin and setting her on fire.
'You're mine,' he insisted. Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he once more bent his head to the center of her palm.
The brush of his lips sent streaks of fire rippling through the wall of muscles until she nearly spasmed with an orgasm. She was that close - so close - and she wanted more. She pressed her palm against his mouth, a low moan escaping.
His aura suddenly expanded, the darker colors swirling around her like a cloak, enveloping her colors of purple and iridescent pink and vivid orange, the jeweled tones that represented her. His darker colors bled into hers, mixing and swirling until she could feel a thousand fingers brushing over her skin, tongues lapping at her nipples and between her legs.
And then he bit down right in the center of her palm. She heard herself scream as her body convulsed, as pleasure burst through her. Her orgasm was strong and long, rippling through her from head to toe, a bright blast of rockets that sent colors and musical notes scattering like gems around her head and bursting behind her eyes.
Ilya held her to him, closing her fingers around her palm to make a fist, holding it against his heart while she fought for breath and control. He had claimed her body for his own, showed her that he could own her - he did own her - and she couldn't go back. She
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