Sea Haven 02 - Spirit Bound

lips. “I want you, Thomas, any way I can have you.”
    His body reacted almost before his mind comprehended that soft, whispered acceptance. His heavy erection grew thicker and much harder than it had ever been, a painful need mixing with the dark lust building so fast he could barely hang on to his control. He couldn’t save her, not now, it was too damned late, not when she was looking at him with those eyes. Not with her body flushed and her breasts rising and falling with her ragged breathing. Not when she was every bit as needy as he was.
    Her feminine scent enticed and tempted beyond his ability to resist. His hands, of their own accord, dropped to her thighs, jerking them apart to give him what he so desperately needed. He didn’t—couldn’t—wait. Without preamble, his mouth devoured her. He was brilliant at two things, killing and giving pleasure. With this woman his lovemaking was all real. His tongue made a single swipe through velvet folds and when he felt her answering shudder, he tasted the wild honey he’d been craving from her.
    He knew it was far too late to turn back. She’d changed his life for all time. The way her hands fisted in his hair. The trembling of her body, her soft musical moans fed his addiction, and the exotic taste of her would forever set up a craving. Nothing mattered but having her. He had waited his entire life for a reason—something, just one thing to make sense of it all. She turned out to be a woman named Judith.
    She cried out as he licked, a cat lapping at sweet, hot cream, her breathless cries only adding to the urgent need building like a tsunami inside of him. He couldn’t stop the growling sounds of pleasure coming from his throat, the desperate hunger forever building into an insatiable lust. Her hot channel spasmed, providing more honey and he attacked like the starving man he was.
    More angel, give me everything. I need you to give yourself to me.
    He was asking for complete trust in him. The more she relaxed, the more she put herself into his hands, the better he could make it for her. His hand tightened on her hip, holding her still when her knees threatened to buckle, while he slid his finger deep into that hot, velvet tunnel. He groaned at how small and tight she was. He was a big man and she needed to be ready to take his size. Her inner muscles gripped his finger tightly and he lapped and sucked at the welcoming liquid spilling over. Nectar from the gods, sweet and flowing into his hungry mouth. He was the devil tempting the angel and nothing else mattered but that she succumbed to his deliberate seduction.
    Judith cried out again, the sound strangled as she placed both hands on Stefan’s shoulders to steady herself when her legs turned to gel and her body trembled violently with the gathering tension. She spread her legs wider, threw her head back, gasping, putting herself into his care, giving him the trust he’d demanded from her. Pleasure grew past anything she’d known and still he didn’t stop, his wicked, sinful mouth driving her up until she thought she might come apart, just fragment into a million pieces, or lose herself in the sheer rapture of his mouth.
    And then he used his fingers again while his mouth remained on her most sensitive button, suckling and flicking so that her breath came in gasping sobs. His exploring fingers stretched her, teased and stretched a little more. There was a tiny bite of pain, a burning that just floated into the exquisite pleasure and then dissipated as rapture built, coiling tighter and tighter inside of her.
    “I can’t take any more.” Even to herself her voice was a husky, pleading moan.
    Let go, angel, and just fly for me.
    She had no choice, she really didn’t. Not with flames building into a giant firestorm and her body bucking helplessly against his mouth and fingers. She felt every muscle in her body tighten, the coil so tight now it was frightening, and then she was flying apart, her soft cries filling the room.
    Stefan held her hips to steady her, even as he stood, stripping away his jeans with one hand, turning her away from him, pressing her down with one hand on her back, forcing her over one of the tables. He left his shirt on. His body was covered in scars. Knife fights, bullet wounds, whip marks, years of enduring torture, it was all on the road map of his body. She might buy he’d gotten a few wounds in the service, but it would be impossible to explain them all and he didn’t