Read Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple II Online

Authors: Tales From The Temple 02

Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple II (14 page)

“Don’t.” He caught her wrists and moved her hands to rest between them. “You’re exquisite.” His lips grazed the tip of her nose. “And you’re mine, Rachel. And I claim you.”

Her breath caught in her throat at his possessive tone. Her gaze dropped to his hands. They looked big and dark against her pale flesh as he cupped her breasts, lifting them gently as if to weigh and measure them. Rachel knew her breasts were too big for her slim frame but Luc didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy them just fine.

He ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples. She shivered at the riot of sensations he ignited from that simple touch. He repeated the movement again and again until her breathing grew shallow and her thighs clenched against his hips. She felt the release of damp heat deep in her vagina.

81

J.C. Wilder

Luc’s dark head dipped. He took her nipple into his mouth, sending a bolt of sensation down her spine. She gripped his head, fearing for a moment that she’d faint when his wet tongue laved at the hardened tip. Soft mewls locked in her throat as she tipped her head back and leaned into the edge of the table, reveling in the mastery of his touch. Her head swam. Here—here—was the man she’d desired above all others and soon, very soon, she’d call him “lover”.

He rolled the hardened nub against the roof of his mouth then suckled hard enough to wrench a cry from her. Her fingers knotted in his hair and she made a sound of protest when he lifted his head until she realized he was only moving to her other breast. She moaned and pressed her hips into his lap when he took the other nipple into his mouth and subjected it to the same masterful seduction.

After a few moments, he released her nipple and raised his head. His pupils were wide and his hands moved to her splayed thighs. His thumbs dug into her inner knees.

“Open for me,” he commanded.

Unable to resist, she forced her thighs to relax then parted them. He shifted his hand to her hip then slid his fingers under the slim elastic band of her panties.

“I’m sure these are lovely.” His voice was low, harsh. “But right now they’re in the way.”

He removed the dagger from the waist sheath and held it up so the candlelight gleamed over the steel blade. Their gazes remained locked as he lowered the dagger and slid it under the slim band. With a flick of his wrist, he cut through the elastic and then moved to do the same at her other hip. Rachel held her breath as the final band was cut.

Her tongue felt thick as he urged her upward to slide the destroyed garment from between her legs. The scrap of scarlet lace looked tiny in his big hands. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he raised the crotch of the panties to his nose and inhaled. Her heart almost stopped as a smile of pure satisfaction curled his sinner’s mouth.

“You’re wet for me,” he said. “That’s good.” He replaced the dagger in its sheath and dropped the shredded panties beside him on the bench. “Let’s see if I can make you even wetter.”

He ran his hands up her thighs and even before he touched her, she was arching toward him, her lust overruling whatever scant inhibitions might have remained. When his fingers brushed the soft curls between her thighs, she moaned and reached for him.

“Is this what you want, Rachel?” His breath was hot against her throat. With his free hand he caught her before she could touch him. He parted her dampened flesh to zero in on her clit. “Release?” His fingers began stroking her hardened flesh in a slow, sensual dance.

“Yes,” she moaned. Her hips followed his touch and her eyes slid shut. The feelings he aroused were so powerful she felt as if she would fly apart.

“Tell me, Rachel.” He increased the pace. “Tell me what you want from me.”

82

One Night Stand

“Make me come,” she moaned. “Please.”

His laughter was deep, throaty. “My pleasure.”

Her hips moved in the sensual dance as old as time as he stroked her aroused flesh, his movements increasing in intensity. Soft moans built in her throat as the effects of the were-blood and his wicked, knowledgeable touches made her delirious. This was the man she desired over any other and her capitulation was inevitable. The pressure started in her lower belly then worked its way down into her thighs before shooting upward.

Her back arched and she came with a startled cry as her body was overwhelmed with the force of her release. The spasms seemed to go on for several long minutes until, finally, they slowed and then stopped. Released from the sensual hypnosis, she leaned into Luc’s chest gasping for air.

After a few moments she sat up. He removed his hand from between her thighs.

“We need to get out of here, Rachel. Contrary to what you might be thinking, I didn’t bring you up here to seduce you.” His heated gaze moved over her face. “When I take you for real, I want you flat on your back as I enter you.”

She shivered at the powerful images his words evoked and gave him a light kiss on the mouth. “That sounds like a plan. Shall we go to your place?” She knew he was living just down the street from the
Chat Noir
, much closer than her place across town.

He glanced at his watch. “First I need to take care of some business, but that should only take a few minutes.” He dropped his hands onto her thighs and began rubbing them. “After that, we’ll go home to my bed where I’ll spread you out on silk sheets and worship you from head to toe.”

Rachel slid her arms into the straps of her dress as she tried to stifle a groan. While she was a little disappointed that his business would cut into their limited time together, she’d waited forty-three years before taking another man to bed. She supposed she could wait a few more minutes.

* * * * *

He had to be mad.

Rachel sat in the shadows of the window seat, her long, spectacular legs stretched out before her. Her attention was completely captured by a coffee table book dealing with the architecture of old New Orleans. She nibbled her lower lip as her rapt gaze moved over the words. She was easy on the eyes, intelligent and he was completely smitten—smitten to the point he was reluctant to let her out of his sight even for a moment.

He glanced at the grandfather clock.

It was almost midnight.

Damn you, Reg, you’d better be on time.

83

J.C. Wilder

He fixed his gaze on the check, which lay in the center of Sinjin’s desk. His gut clenched. It had taken him many years to save up a million dollars but now his dream was about to come true. In a few minutes he’d purchase back the property that had been stolen from him in the early eighteenth century by an unscrupulous lawyer. He smoothed his fingers over the neat type. Soon
Belle Maison
would be in the hands of its rightful owner.

The clock struck midnight and as if on cue the intercom buzzed. He pushed the talk button.

“Yes, Sheila?”

“Mr. Darramond and his associates are here to see you.”

“Send them up.” His lips twitched. Mister indeed. In the old days Reg had been known as Crybaby for his unfortunate tendency to burst into tears when he became enraged, which then had been quite frequently. Luc slid the check into its envelope and then laid it on the desk.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs marked the progress of his visitors as they approached. Rachel looked at him and he gave her a smile.

“Just a few more minutes,” he said.

She nodded and returned her attention to the book.

Reg swept into the room with all the pomp and circumstance due to a Head of State. His short, squat body was clad in an immaculate Versace tuxedo complete with diamond button covers on his shirt and black gloves. His black floor-length cape was lined with red silk and it provided a theatrical flare that Reg had no doubt anticipated.

“Lucius,” he boomed.

Luc rose from behind the desk. “Reg, I’m glad you could meet me here.” The men shook hands and Luc waved the other man toward one of the two chairs before the desk.

Several other men filed in behind Reg, all dressed in black from head to toe and sporting ear pieces that enabled them to communicate between themselves. Reg was very much into personal security these days.

“Do you have the check?” Reg arranged his cape to expose the blood-red silk.

“Do you have the paperwork?” Luc countered.

The other man didn’t crack a smile and with barely more than a flick of a finger one of his flunkies came forward with a leather portfolio that he laid on the desk.

“I’m sure you won’t mind if I look this over,” Luc said.

Reg flashed his fangs and it wasn’t a pleasant sight. “As soon as my assistant verifies the check.”

Luc nodded. “Fair enough.” He handed the envelope over then opened the portfolio and scanned the documents. His heart raced as his gaze absorbed the contents of the documentation. It was as they’d agreed; the house, grounds and contents of
Belle
84

One Night Stand

Maison
were detailed in neat black type along with the negotiated price of one million dollars.

He sat back. It was all here for the taking.

“I think you will find it to your satisfaction,” Reg said. “There are two copies of the documents. All you have to do is sign both sets and that monstrosity you’ve coveted for so long will once again be yours.”

Fighting for an impassive expression, Luc picked up his pen and signed his name to both copies. The scratching of the pen sounded loud and when he was done he laid the pen down.

It was over.

Reg’s assistant came forward and picked up the portfolio. “These will be filed first thing in the morning, Monsieur deVille. By twilight the deed and the keys will be awaiting you.”

“Thank you for your assistance, Douglas.” Luc nodded at Reg. “And thanks to you Reg,
Belle Maison
has been restored to my family.”

Reg waved his words away. “
Belle
never meant as much to me as it did to you. “ He shrugged. “To me, it was yet another house; to you, it was a home.”

Luc smiled. “Well, thanks anyway.”

“Never forget, my friend, lest you lose her again, what one treasures, one must fight to protect. Remain vigilant for there are those who seek to take that which belongs to us.” Reg’s eyes glinted with unspoken emotion. “We must be on our way…“ He rose from his chair and when he caught sight of Rachel, he stopped. Surprise flitted across his face. “You didn’t introduce me to your friend, Luc.” His tone was gently admonishing.

“You’ll have to forgive me but I was anxious to get our business taken care of first.”

Luc rose but the other man beat him to Rachel’s side. Reg took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Any friend of Luc’s is most certainly a friend of mine.” He kissed the back of her hand. “What is your name, beautiful?”

“Rach—”

“Mine.” Luc slid his arm around Rachel’s waist. His gaze clashed with Reg’s and, for a moment, Luc wasn’t sure the other man would release her hand. After a few tense moments, Reg released her.

“Indeed.” Reg’s gaze moved over her face. “So the lion has been bearded in his den has he? You must be quite a special lady.“

Rachel tilted her head back and her long hair licked at Luc’s arm. Promise glittered in the depths of her expressive eyes. “I don’t know, Luc, am I special?” Her tone both teased and aroused him.

He opted not to answer and instead brushed his mouth against her temple. In response, she leaned into him and slid her arm around his waist.

85

J.C. Wilder

“I can see that I’m in the way.” Reg gave him a mocking bow before heading for the door and his security people scrambled to follow. “Remember what I said, deVille.

Protect what you treasure.” He paused in the doorway and looked back at Rachel. “No matter what that treasure may be.”

* * * * *

Luc swept her into his arms and kicked the car door shut. Rachel flung her arms around his broad shoulders and kissed his neck as he bounded up the front steps. He smelled of cinnamon and warm, healthy male flesh. Encouraged by the growl he emitted when her lips touched his neck, she nipped at his skin, excited by the taste and proximity of him.

“Have mercy, woman.” He spanked her smartly on the backside. “Wait till we get inside at least.”

A bark of laughter escaped her as he released his hold on her legs as if to put her down—but there was no way she was letting him go that easily. She wound her legs around his and clung like a limpet to his broad frame.

“You are playing with fire, little girl,” he growled.

Rachel pulled back and gave him what she hoped was a sexy smile. “Promise?”

His breath hitched, “Oh yeah.”

The door swung open and he stumbled in, hampered by her twining legs. She laughed when she almost ended up on the floor, her heart near to bursting with excitement. Luc slammed the door and plunged them into darkness relieved only by the glow of a small lamp somewhere in the back of the house.

They kissed and Rachel sank into a pit of desire. He braced her back against the wide oak door, pressing the ridge of his arousal against the apex of her thighs. Dear God but she wanted him. With every fiber of her being she wanted this man to possess her with a need so ferocious it could no longer be contained.

Luc’s breathing was urgent as he leaned heavily into her, pressing his erection into the softness of her body. He slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders, shifting her away from the door long enough to slide the garment out of the way. His fingers tangled in her long hair, pulling her head back to accept the deep thrust of his tongue into her mouth.

She whimpered into his mouth, restlessly moving against him in a vain effort to appease the growing ache between her thighs. She ached for him to fill the emptiness inside her, the same emptiness that was rapidly growing damp with need.

She slid her hands into the open neck of his shirt. Warm male skin, damp with sweat, awaited her touch. She kneaded and stroked the thick pads of muscle that rippled under her hands. Her fingers found his flat male nipples and a groan burst from his throat as she flicked each nipple. Greedily she swallowed his cry and sucked hard on his tongue.

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