Soulceress (The Mythean Arcana 2) - Page 29

He could barely hear her through the buzzing in his head. Without her usual armor of jeans and a leather jacket, the sight of her, so different from what he was used to, made him realize how much he wanted her. Made him realize how damn long it had been since he’d been with a woman.

Now, when he needed his iron will more than ever, it fled. The scent of her banished it from his being. They were a mere foot from each other, so close that it was easy to reach out with a trembling hand and cup the back of her head. Her raven hair felt like silk against his fingers. How long had it been since he’d touched something so soft?

Her lips parted and her amber eyes took on a wary sheen. “What are you doing?”

The words were but a whisper that bounced ineffectually against the force of his desire. He pulled her closer until he could feel her breath against his lips, hot and sweet.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered, but she didn’t push him away.

Aye, it was a bad idea. Celibacy had been working really well for him. It kept his mind clear and focused, which he sure as hell needed. The responsible Warren who worked tirelessly for the university would have stiffened his shoulders and walked out. The Warren who’d decided to fuck the university and hunt for the soulceress who had stolen his soul didn’t care. The pressure of the last few days was breaking him.

Breaking him down into the components of his basest self: Need. Lust. Instinct.

He pulled her to him, groaning low in his throat when her body pressed against his. As his mouth closed over hers, she moaned, parting her lips. She stroked her tongue against his, inviting him in. He followed, desperate to taste her, to see if she was as sweet as he suspected.

“Warren.” She dropped the crackers and ran her hands up his chest and into his hair, gripping his head and holding him tightly to her, as if she never wanted to let go.

His surroundings faded. She was hot and warm and wet in a way that shot a bolt of lust straight to his cock. He wanted to touch her, to taste her, to tear her clothes off her and know every inch of her. The celibacy that had allowed him control over his life and peace in his mind suddenly seemed ridiculous.

Desperate, he yanked her up into his arms and pressed her back against the wall just outside the pantry, cupping the back of her head to protect it from the hard wood.

Her long legs closed around his waist and she rolled her hips. His cock surged at the feel of her, hot and soft against him. Only a few layers of fabric separated them. Too much.

“Gods, I want you,” he muttered, and gripped the curve of her ass.

Her mouth dragged down the side of his neck and he moaned, gripping her hips and grinding his cock against her softness.

“There.” She gasped. “Right there.”

She moved against him, gracefully at first, but soon devolved into mindlessness in pursuit of pleasure.

Could she come like this? The idea spurred him on, made him thrust and capture her mouth in hopes it would push her over the edge.

“Yes.” Her hands fisted in his hair as her hips grew frantic.

She was close, he was sure of it.

A great boom of thunder shook the house, and darkness crashed around them as the power cut out. Esha stiffened in his arms, her trance broken. She shuddered.

“Bad idea.” She scrambled out of his arms and away. “This has only ever ended terribly with you.”

“I—”

“No, we’re a bad idea, Warren. You don’t like me. Once, I wouldn’t have cared. But I do now. I want more than this.” She ignored the crackers she’d dropped and turned to leave, snagging his beer on her way out. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Warren squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the pantry wall. A heavy breath heaved through his lungs. Damn it.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea replaced the desire, almost bringing him to his knees. Sweat broke out on his brow and he swallowed hard, trying to force the nausea down. His muscles weakened until he had to grip the door frame and will himself to stand.

Time for more pills.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Getting to the island was going to be a bitch. Warren surveyed the crashing waves that pounded the pebble beach, then looked over at Esha, who stood with her hands on her hips and serenity on her face. Afraid of nothing.

They’d avoided each other this morning and hadn’t spoken much while driving out to Bunnessan, the little town where they were going to put the boat into the water. Early afternoon sun struggled to illuminate the turbulent sea.

“Putting the boat in is going to be wet,” she said, nodding at the waves. “Once we’re out to sea, I can dry us. I’m not too keen on speeding through November winds on the Celtic Sea in wet clothes.”

Tags: Linsey Hall The Mythean Arcana Paranormal
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