She bit her lip and opened her eyes.
He leaned close, lip-to-lip until he could see all the pain and surprise in her eyes. “Just kiss me, Briet. That’s all. Your body will relax. Kiss me.”
He touched his lips to hers. There was a brief movement of her lips responding. He leaned back and looked at her, then stroked her cheek with his nose and kissed her again. This time she returned the kiss. He pulled back again. He nipped along her jaw. Her hands released their death grip on his arms and slid to cup his head as she kissed him tentatively.
He kissed her with every bit of feeling he had, feeding on her mouth like a starving man until she responded with a soft mewl. He slid his hand from her hip to her ass cheek and held her to him, his erection still painfully engorged and buried in her heat.
With more restraint than he believed possible, he shifted to rock her against him. The tension in her muscles receded as he continued to kiss her and rock her slowly. He moved away from her mouth to dip down, kiss her breast, and lick her nipple.
“I’ll be okay, Jason.”
He lifted his head. “We’re not going for okay here.” He kissed her and nipped her lip. “I’m going for the big time climax. Not settling for anything less.” His tongue tangled with hers as his fingers stroked her breast and teased her nipple. Her breathing started to speed up again. He pulled back from between her thighs, easing out of her just a bit. She tensed but sucked in her breath as he stroked along her folds with his fingers and circled around her clit.
When a soft moan escaped her lips and her hands moved back to his biceps, he kissed her again and moved into her with a shallow stroke. “Moans are good but they aren’t enough.”
She started to laugh and let out a tiny cry of pleasure as he pressed more firmly in his circles. “Better, but not there yet.”
“You’re a slave driver.” She was trying for humor, and he had to give her credit because he could barely speak from the need to come, much less try for levity.
“Haven’t seen anything yet.” He licked along her ear. “Bend your knees up around my hips.”
She bit her lip and did as he asked. He moved his hand back to cup her buttock and pulled her closer, allowing his body to apply pressure as he deepened his stroke.
“You okay?”
“Mmm.” She didn’t really answer, but her head was moving languidly and her hips were trying to find a rhythm. He guided her and she moved against him. He withdrew slowly and filled her, over and over, holding back, waiting so she would find release first. Her thighs clenched around his hips and her muscles began to pulse around his cock. He gripped her tighter, finally feeling the quivers of her orgasm in every fiber of his being. With a deep thrust and then another he cried her name into her hair and joined her.
The orgasm was over but he never wanted to move again. His only conscious desire was to lie there, still and deep inside of her, but age-old training kicked in. Slowly, he withdrew from her body and then rose from the bed to the bathroom.
He threw away the condom, rinsed himself, wiped at the small bruising marks around his hip and thigh, and shook his head.
A virgin
. His feisty doctor had been a virgin, and he’d almost taken her like a raging bull. He grabbed a washcloth and headed back into the bedroom.
Briet was sprawled on her side. He crawled beside her and kissed her shoulder. Moving the sheet aside, he kissed her hip, her thigh, and the tiny tattoo below her navel, eliciting a sweet moan. Softly, he turned her so he could gently swab between her thighs. Her hands moved to hold him back, but he kissed her fingers and moved them away. “Let me care for you, Briet.”
Her resistance ceased. He cleaned her, tossed the cloth to the side table, and curled his body around her, pulling the sheet over them. “Are you sore?”
She covered his hand over her waist. “I need a few minutes before we do it again.”
His laugh erupted against her hair and neck, and he gave the delicate pocket between her shoulder and throat another kiss. “If you can, then so can I.” He tucked her closer to him and closed his eyes. She felt too good in his arms.
His
. She was going to break his heart before he was able to walk away.
For now, he refused to think past their weekend together.
***
Briet lay in his arms, drifting between sleep and thought as the murky gray of pre-dawn filtered through the curtains. She didn’t want to think about the future, or whether Jason could love her enough to stay with her, or the fact that he was dead set against having children. She didn’t want to think, only wanted to feel. To believe tenuous bonds of emotion would bind them forever from the physical expressions of their passion. Or lust, depending on which of them was being considered, though she suspected that would be both of them.
She had been so certain if she joined with him, they would both feel the connection. She had. Even after the initial shock and pain of penetration had passed, he had gently cajoled her body to respond in pleasure, had held her in his arms through the night. His actions weren’t those of a callous playboy. She had no way to gauge whether he was the same with all women, but she wanted to be special. To believe she meant as much to him as he did to her.
The act of making love didn’t seal him to her. His actions of care and concern did.
He had serious cracks where his caring and compassion shone through. He’d erected rules and boundaries to fight against some age-old damage. Yet the man had an ability to give and protect ingrained in him as well. Was what they shared enough of a beginning for him to meet her halfway? Could she live with only half of him, even if he couldn’t come to terms with wanting her as she wanted him? Committing to her, as she would always be to him? Forgoing the remainder of her covenant?
And did she really have the energy to make love with him again? That question conjured a slow smile. She felt his hand stroked the skin beneath her breast. Hmmm, definitely. But not here.
She threw back the comforter and grabbed for her robe. He reached for her and missed.
“Hey, my pillow.”
“What, you want to snuggle?” With a laugh, she threw him his jeans. “Come on. I want to share something with you. Hurry.”
She was almost to the top of the lighthouse when he caught her. “No fair, longer legs,” she yelped.
“All the better to snag you with, my pretty.” He pulled her close and she watched while he turned and scrutinized the room.
The three hundred sixty degree glass enclosure converted sixty years before, sported windows reaching from waist height to the ceiling. The room, empty of the lighthouse lamp and lens for many years now, housed only a chart table before the seaward windows.
The panoramic view of the coastline and sea was slowly turning from muted forms of grey to deepened colors painted with hues of rose and silver. Briet turned her head to watch the sun’s first rays peak across the horizon, that moment of dusk to bright, quiet and hallowed.
“Beautiful,” he said.
She squealed as he grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her onto the chart table. Her robe slid apart as she grabbed for the lapels.
“No. No. I want my dawn sacrifice, bare and covered in gold.” He laughed, pushed the robe down her shoulders, and kissed along her skin.
Two could play at this.
She stroked her fingers along his bare chest. His muscles flexed beneath her touch. She ringed her fingertips around his nipples. The sharp intake of his breath vibrated beneath her touch and elicited a surge of satisfaction. A sense of power from creating desire and pleasure, so foreign, yet so compelling, snaked through her body. With a slight turn, she traced her tongue over the same path, tasting his skin and the hint of salt coupled with the light scent of male musk. His nipple hardened beneath her tongue as a slow hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth.
Confident and a little more daring, she slid her hand to the front of his jeans and covered his erection. A low growl vibrated across his chest beneath her lips, but his hands had stilled against her back. With the button popped and the zipper gingerly lowered, she had his warm, hard flesh prized in her hand, a tool for delicious torture. She let her hand slide down to the base of him and back to the tip. In a slow sweep, her thumb pressed across the flared head and slit, slicking the drops of fluid there around in circles as her tongue teased across his chest.
“Jeez—” His hand clasped over hers squeezing harder as she pumped and then quickly released to dig in his pocket. “You are
my
sacrifice. Not the other way around.”
In two quick moves, he sheathed himself with a condom and lowered her shoulders to the table. His eyes glinted with the brilliance of the sunrise. He blazed a path over her with his gaze, desire written in the flair of his nostrils and the firm stroke of his fingers on her flesh.
“Golden. Nubile. Edible.” He bent his head to suck in her nipple hard and release it with a pop. His fingers delved between her legs and parted her more gently than his harsh look implied. He sank into her to stroke, the friction and movement eliciting a long, low moan from deep inside her.
She watched him from beneath half-closed eyelids. Shame stood no chance against the blatant arousal he spiked within her. His smile was wicked, pleased to produce her response and she now had a taste of that power. He withdrew his fingers and teased her with his erection.
No. Not teased. Promised. Lifting her legs, she gripped his hips and rubbed her thigh against the emerging mark circling his left thigh and hip. Had he even noticed?
She pulled down on his shoulders until he sank into her, full, but not nearly enough. He held back, his forearms framing her body as his eyes searched her face.
His hips shifted and moved against her, stroking tender flesh. With each plunge into her body, his eyes watched her, one palm flush against her neck, his fingers cradling her jaw. She leaned into his hand and pressed up to meet his thrusts.
Then the devious attentive man that he was, reached with his other hand to tease at the mark on her body, his thumb swirling over her flesh. Sparks of fire coiled deep in her belly, full fevered and strung tight. He moved faster. Her nerves sang and her moans grew louder until she peaked, unable to hold back his name from her lips. His climax erupted on the heels of her own, his roar of her name louder but no less intense, then he dropped his forehead to rest against hers.
With a kiss to her nose, he slowly withdrew from her body. “Thank you for the wonderful beginning to the day.”
Pulling the robe back around herself, she smiled, slid from the table, and padded down the stairs to stand in the middle of the bedroom. Now what?
She could hear him clean up in the bathroom and felt his presence behind her.
With a quick sweep, he swept her in his arms and bounced on the bed, protecting her fall. Suddenly covered by his body, she had no desire to move. He swept away the robe and grabbed the comforter. Diving beneath, he snuggled against her stomach. “Now, back to my warm pillow.”
Her fingers furrowed in his hair and clasped her to him as she closed her eyes to the golden hue of the morning between the curtains. She smiled to herself. Yes, blatant, decadent, and addictive. But for how long?
CHAPTER 16
Briet
folded
into her apartment’s kitchen. Travel through space in seconds was much easier than dealing with Jason’s car, which was why she’d encouraged him to leave before she did, before he felt too caged by the pleasure of their weekend. She caught her breath and leaned her forehead against the refrigerator door. The cool stainless steel did nothing to dispel the heat from her memories of the past two days.
Did he harbor these same thoughts
?
Only time would tell if she would be any different in Jason’s mind from the women of his past, but she would carry a part of him with her forever.
“Distractions mean the difference between life and death.”
She spun around, surprised by Ansgar’s presence and the unusually harsh tone in his voice. He stood no more than a foot away, the scowl on his face buried deep in the furrow between his brows.
“I’m hardly at risk in my own home.”
His expression grew darker. “You think not?” he said, almost yelling at her as he stepped back and waved a hand, gesturing to the open view of her living room.
Her breath stuck in her throat at the destruction littered across the small space.
Books were strewn across the floor. Opened and broken, glass frames lay smashed. Artwork hung at odd angles on walls. Legs of the small end tables reached for the ceiling instead of gracing the floor, their drawers pulled, and contents dumped. Lamps were tossed, their shades torn. Even her stuffed chair and couch had been ripped, stuffing strewn across the carpet, pillows spread in bits and tatters.
“Why would anyone do this?” She jammed shaky fingers into her pants pocket to keep a small measure of control.
“Human thieves? Seeking money or valuables?” Ansgar braced his arms over his chest and glared at her. “I’m torn between wondering where the hell you’ve been and thanking heaven that you weren’t here.”
Briet blinked, all euphoria from the weekend sucked away by a growing chill and the sick sense of violation. “I went to the lighthouse.”
“When did you leave?”
“Friday night, sometime after eight.”
Ansgar grunted. “Gather what you need. I want you to come back to the Sanctum tonight while I take care of this and get a new door, new locks.”
She shook her head in denial and glanced to the front door. Splinters of wood stuck out at odd angles from the inside of the frame where force had caused the deadbolt to give way. A saw had attempted to cut it free of the doorframe. No casual break-in. “I’m going to the hospital tonight. I have to check in on my patients. I’ll be safe there.”
He looked prepared to argue the point.
“There’s a cot in the doctor’s lounge, plenty of people around. I’ll stay there until you’re done. I’ve done it before. Really, I’ll be okay.”