Overlord: The Fringe, Book 2 (28 page)

She dropped her gaze to his chest, then lower. “Be my captive again. Take off your shirt for me.”

Challenged, he stood. If she wanted a show, he’d gladly give her one. He popped each button with a deliberate pinch of his fingers and thumb. The same fingers and thumb that still glistened with her climax.

She settled herself on her back in the disheveled bed, watching him with gleaming eyes. “Slowly, Michael.”

Her request tickled along his already excited nerves. He flushed with pleasure as he complied. “I see you’ve given this some thought.”

“I have.” She offered him a wicked, wanton smile and an arched brow as she rolled to the edge of the bed for a better view. On her side, she propped her head up on her bent elbow.

He slipped the shirt from his shoulders and let the silk slink over his skin to the floor. “Now what?”

She considered him for a long moment. “Pop the button on your trousers.”

He did as she commanded. He’d never met a woman who enjoyed watching as much as she did. He found her gaze terribly arousing since he enjoyed being on display.

She looked him up and down for a long time. “Turn around.”

Confused, he turned away, presenting his back to her.

“Unzip them,” she demanded with a husky whisper.

He lowered the zipper with some difficulty past his throbbing penis. When he groaned, he heard her chuckle and ask with a teasing voice, “Was that a groan of relief?”

Unable to speak, he nodded. It felt damn good to be free from the confines of his dress slacks.

“You can let them fall,” she offered generously.

He dropped them to the floor, the smooth cotton rubbing against the hair of his body all the way down. The slick stroke made him think of her hands on him and he was fully aware of the painful scent of arousal emanating from his own skin.

“I saw you in the shower.”

“What?” Startled, he turned toward her.

“Don’t turn around,” Mary commanded with a singsong voice. “Kick your pants away.”

He did. Hard and nude, he faced her closed bedroom door.

“I saw you in the shower.” Her voice rolled over him like a thousand quick kisses. “I saw you one morning after breakfast. You left the com on in the solarium. House didn’t seem to mind when I started flipping channels. Nothing of interest until I found you in the locker room.”

“You watched me shower?” If possible, he hardened even more at the thought of her voyeuristically watching him.

“Well, I could see your back, like I can now. I couldn’t tell what you were doing until I saw your pumping right arm.” She spoke with a low, seductive edge. “I tried to turn the monitor off and walk away, but I heard you say my name.” She paused. “Well, actually, you groaned my name. Your arm stopped moving after that.”

He smiled, tilting his head back. “Had I known you were watching, I would have made it last longer.” Hell, he would have turned and faced the camera.

“If I asked you to do that for me, would you?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Would it excite you to do that for me?”

“Gods, yes.” He felt his body on display, satisfying himself as she watched. Without a single touch, his body jerked, and he looked down to see a glistening drop at the tip of his erection. “Just listening to your voice is making me crazy, Mary. If you keep this up, I won’t be.”

“Won’t be what?”

“Up.” He was so close to the edge it wouldn’t take much more to push him over. If he wasn’t careful, he would climax without ever having touched her.

“Turn around.” Her voice thickened with the words.

When he did, she looked right into his eyes. Inch by inch, her gaze traveled down his body. She gave a startled gasp when she saw how big he was, and her eyes widened.

On a deep breath, he tasted a hint of fear. “I would never hurt you, Mary, not with any part of my body.”

Reassured by his words, she flushed ever so slightly. “Come here.”

As he walked toward her, his penis bounced with his step, and it excited him even more when she darted surreptitious glances down, then back to his eyes. Her scent and gaze was no longer filled with fear but curiosity and longing.

Tension filled him as he slipped onto the bed beside her. He throbbed with physical desire but also a profound emotional need, one that no longer frightened him. All those lingering traces of fear disappeared from her eyes and from her scent. Rushing and tumbling, all he could smell and taste was the rich scent of her passion.

“I want—” She bit her lip, ducked her head, a soft flush washing across her cheeks.

Tilting her face up, he dropped his lips a breath from hers. “Do you want me inside you?”

“Yes.” Her gaze met his. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Her bold honesty electrified him. “I feel the same way.”

He lowered his head, bridging the distance between them. Pressing his lips to hers, he pulled her into his arms. She clutched tight to his shoulders. Sliding his tongue into her mouth, reveling in the taste of her, he drew her close and slid her up the silk-clad bed.

“Where are you taking me?”

He arranged her body so as she lay back, with a good view of the mirror, her legs dangled over the side of the bed.

“Okay?”

She nodded.

Pushing her legs apart, mindful of her cast, he placed himself on his knees between and kissed her inner thigh. “I guess I lied.”

“What?” She peered down at him, one eyebrow raised.

As she’d teased him while he undressed, he teased her now. “You won’t be able to wrap your legs around me with that cast.”

To his shocked delight, she grinned. “At the moment, I don’t want my legs around you.” She reclined, spread her legs wider and looked up to the mirror. “I know what you want to do, and I can’t wait to watch and feel you do it.”

Pleasure surged as he worked his way up her thigh, kissing and biting. Nudging her open with a stroke of his finger, he ran his fingertip against her clit.

She groaned, arching her back. Her gaze darted between the mirror and him.

He gripped her inner thighs with his massive hands, opened her and plunged his face to her core, penetrating her with his tongue. Citrus, verdant earth, spices and flowers. Mary tasted so good he never wanted to stop. Devouring her, he used his teeth, his tongue and his swirling fingers to bring her to the edge of climax. Reveling in the full of her scent, her taste, the promise of her body, he forced her higher and higher.

“Please,” Mary whispered urgently.

He held her down by placing his hands on her hips and brought her to climax with one wicked flick of his tongue. She growled a stream of profanity, then lay back.

He rested his head against her thigh, but she recovered quickly and sat up.

“I want—”

“I know what you want.” Her need for penetration rolled off her in an insistent wave of luscious scent he longed to answer. “You want the same thing I do.”

He pulled her hips to the edge of the bed as he moved forward. Pressing the prow of his engorged cock to her welcoming core, he fought every driving instinct in his body and brain. He wanted to fill her in one hard thrust. Claim her. Possess her. Desire to be inside her shook him so soundly his body hurt when he only pressed the tip of himself against her.

“Look at me, Mary.”

Over-bright eyes, glazed with passion, blinked dreamily up at him. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He smiled gently. “I won’t.” He moved forward. When her eyes went wide and her brows lowered, along with a wisp of edible fear, he backed off.

Frantic, she reached for him.

“I’m not stopping. Relax. Welcome me. Let me inside you.”

Large hands soothed her as he paused, allowing her to grow accustomed to his invading girth. Delicious tightness clenched around the head of his penis. Relying on every shred of his willpower to hold steady, he stroked his hands up and down the silken skin of her legs.

She stretched her hands over her head, and gave an experimental roll of her hips.

Hissing a sharp expletive, he gripped her waist. “Don’t do that.”

“Why?” She rolled her hips and twisted the tight start of her core around the tip of his cock.

Swearing, hissing, he gritted his teeth to hold himself back. “Mary, don’t.” He focused his gaze on hers. “If you do, I won’t be able to start before I’m finished.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head as he ran a million random bits of trivia through his mind to distract himself. His brief and bitter showers paid off; he discovered he could maintain some equanimity by forced control.

Mary rolled her hips again, grasping the head of his straining penis. As she rotated, she slithered down the silk of the bed until her legs spread wide, and she could draw him deeper.

“You’re playing with fire, and—”

“Those who play with fire get burned.” She mocked his tone. “Deeper.” She tightened her hold on him, urging him forward.

He opened his eyes to look down at her.

Boldly, she met his gaze and rolled her hips. “Deeper.”

He gritted his teeth as he carefully pressed forward, easing into her grasping heat.

Resistance.

She pulled back, pain and fear twisting her lovely face.

He stopped, soothing her with calming strokes and soft words. His eyes, his voice, and his touch conveyed he would not stop but would wait.

Comfortable, she would roll her hips, boldly calling him deeper.

Forward. Stop. Wait. Over and over. Until he thought he could stand no more. He withdrew entirely, then plunged forward.

Resistance gave way to reward.

He trembled with building orgasm. Such a tight, delicious heat around him. Such a full maddening scent filling his mouth and nose. He was delirious with pleasure. A primal bellow welled up inside his chest as he pinned Mary to the bed. Took her. Filled her. At her own insistence.

Big hands to her slender hips, he grasped and yanked her down as he thrust up, impaling her fully, answering her need for penetration with the wicked thrust of his hips.

With a growl, she sat up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, nestling him more firmly, frantic to deepen the connection between their bodies.

Her sitting up tightened her around him almost unbearably, and he clutched the edge of the bed. “Lie back. Oh gods, I can’t—”

She kissed him, surging against him, lustful and passionate, gripping heat tight along the length of him, almost crushing him like a wet, slick fist. He didn’t think he could resist any more.

“I can taste myself on your mouth,” she whispered against his lips.

He uttered a growling moan, unable to hold the building fury of his orgasm. Grasping her hips, he slid her up and angled himself above her.

Watching her face, he struggled to slowly slip in and out of the maddening heat of her body. His arms, balancing him above her, trembled not with his weight but with the weight of restraint. He didn’t want to go slow at all. Every primal force in his body urged him to thrust hard until the fire in his body abated.

But Mary lay below him. Open, vulnerable, welcoming him.

She licked along his shoulder, then nipped his neck. “I can’t wrap both my legs around you, but”—she wrapped her left leg around his body and tightened it. Strong, her slender leg held him as she rocked her hips up—“I can still force you deeper.” Her gaze darted between the mirror and his eyes.

He lowered himself to his elbows. “I can’t last much longer.”

“Surrender to me, Michael.” She lifted her hands over her head and relaxed her leg.

Stunned, captivated, he watched her face as he rocked ever faster to her. Need burned in his body. The luscious smell of her dominated his senses. Her beautiful eyes widened, her head went back, and she matched him thrust for wicked thrust.

“Surrender to me, Michael.”

Her breathless command shattered the last of his restraint. He came so hard it hurt. Pleasure, so long awaited, rippled his body again and again as he pushed deeper.

She clung to him, wrapping her body close despite her cast-bound leg.

Gasping, shaking, he sought her mouth and kissed her as he moaned over and over, “I love you, Mary. I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Curled to his side, Mary listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He’d said he loved her, but that might be what lovers said in the heat of the moment. She wondered, because for the life of her, she’d wanted to scream out those same words at the top of her lungs with every thrust of his beautiful body.

Michael. Not a vague shadowy fantasy from a book, but a man. Flesh and blood, skin and bone. Mysterious, masterful, fascinating, dangerous. The embodiment of everything erotically male. Michael. Her captor and captive.

“Did I hurt you?” Cupping her face, he gazed at her with a touch of panic.

“No. You didn’t hurt me at all.” When she kissed him, she could still taste her own passion on his lips. “I feel wonderful.”

“Granted.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Does that one word mean Commander Arrogance feels good too, or is he just being—”

He kissed her silent. “I feel wonderful.”

Snuggling to his chest, she felt safe for the first time in her life. She had no regrets. Contentment, a peace, so foreign yet so longed for, filled her, and Mary fell asleep within moments of curling herself to him.

Sometime later, she awoke from a strange dream. Jumbled bits and pieces that made no sense when strung together yet had a curious common thread. An answer hovered just beyond her grasp.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a sleepy voice.

She turned over, settled her cast-bound leg on a pillow, and pressed her back to his chest. “Go to sleep. I’m just dealing with my stupid foot.”

Against her cheek, she could feel him smile. “Just think, my lady, only seven more weeks. Once we get that cast off…”

Tight against his hard, warm and wonderfully naked body, she drifted back to dreamland as she thought about the ways they could maneuver their athletic bodies together. On the edge of a satisfied smile, her eyes went wide as all the pieces fell into place.

Smart guns.

His planet.

Techno-house.