Wynd Temptress Part 7

"I'd go deep, bury myself to the hilt."

She stifled a groan.

He positioned himself between her swollen folds.

Instinctively, she jerked at her bound wrists, wanting to grab onto his shoulders. She almost cried out in frustration.

"I know you'd like that, Jez." He ran his tongue over her lips, exploring their shape and texture. Then he pressed forward.

The size and pressure of him was near heaven, soothing her ache to have him fill her as he stretched her beyond what she thought possible. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and begging him to f.u.c.k her hard. He wasn't having any easier time of it than her. He was shaking.

He grunted. "Yes, I could f.u.c.k you so easily." He pinched her nipples. "But I won't."

She choked on a breath.

He shoved away. "And this time I mean it."

She blinked in confusion, watching him senselessly squirt more liquid soap into his hands.

"Because the next time I do," he growled, his eyes burning into her, "it'll be because you invite me into your body." He rubbed his palms together with a vengeance. "And it won't be f.u.c.king."

It won't?

"It'll be making love, d.a.m.n it." He turned his back on her and fooled with more bottles along the tub's ledge while she tried to catch her breath and understand what had just happened. She knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She was swollen and aroused and tingling with need.

She wanted to pound out her frustration on his beautiful body.

When he turned around, his eyes, hot and mesmerizing, moved over her face and then down to the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Let's see," he murmured. "Where should I start?"

"Start what?" she said in a breathless whisper, belatedly recognizing her own words to him when she began her torture.

"Cleaning you." His eyes smoldered as he knelt before her. "Every hollow, every curve, everywhere I can get my hands on...and fingers in."

She swallowed a breath. She knew he meant every word. Half of her hoped that he did.

But the other half knew he meant only to torture her the way she did to him.

Her heart sighed.

If she were honest with herself, she would admit that it wasn't likely he was a renegade psychic trying to impregnate her. He would have raped her repeatedly already. She believed that he was a Commander with the Agency.

With a gentleness that surprised her, he picked up her foot and ma.s.saged it between his palms, separating the toes and running his fingers in between. He frowned and laid his hand against the pad of her foot.

"No bigger than my palm," he grumbled to himself as he slid his thumbs along each knuckle of her toe as though memorizing their shape.

She wondered if he'd give such attention to every part of her body.

When he took such care with her other foot, she laid her head back against the tub's ledge and sighed. His fingers were exquisite, circling her ankle and then tracing the muscles of her calf, kneading and stroking.

"Are you cleaning me or ma.s.saging me?" she breathed.

He simply grunted.

Her pulse picked up as his hands slid farther up her legs and stroked her knees. He applied more soap and smoothed it over her skin.

"So, Commander, do you believe I'm dangerous?"

He gave a snort. "Would I handcuff you if you weren't?"

She opened her eyes and for the first time answered him truthfully. "Yes."

His hands stopped and he looked at her as though trying to read her mind. A wet lock of hair fell over his forehead. She had such an urge to stroke her hand along the rough shadow of his jaw. Too bad her hands were bound.

"You're right. I would." He turned his attention to her other knee, sliding soap all around it. When his fingers strayed up her thigh, she drew in a breath.

He looked up. "But don't think getting my head bashed in and my b.a.l.l.s broken didn't factor into it."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "You don't, do you?" she asked in all sincerity.

She sighed in disappointment when he dropped her leg and picked up the soap again.

"Don't what?"

"You don't think I'm dangerous to the Agency and its government."

He gave her hand the same deliberate attention that he did her foot. And for just a moment their hands clasped before he let go and began a slow ma.s.sage of her forearm.

"I think you're a menace and I've said as much." He gave a long-suffering sigh. "But I think more a menace to me-" he looked up abruptly, "-and yourself." He washed her shoulder and collarbone and under her arm with a smooth gliding touch that carefully avoided her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Thank you for believing that."

"That you're a menace?" His lips quirked.

She smiled at him.

He looked surprised, but then his frown returned. He started on her other arm. "I see another trick coming." He glanced at her.

"No tricks." She met his gaze, letting him read her thoughts. Suddenly she was weary of lying and wondered why. She had been more or less lying her whole life. But now she only wanted the truth. "I am Tyre Leyton's great-granddaughter."

He dropped his hands and let out a breath. "Good."

"And I hate him."

His gaze warmed. "I know." He cupped her face and ran his thumbs along her cheekbones. "And all I've ever wanted is to be left alone. To forget who I am and to ensure that no one else found out."

His hands stroked down her neck.

"And to protect my sisters." She let him feel all her worry over her sisters.

He gave a half smile. "If your sisters are anything like you, it's the guys they sent that I'm worried about."

"You know them?"

He nodded. "Your sisters are safe. You have nothing to worry about."

She wanted to believe him. She did. He was holding nothing back. What he told her was the truth.

Maybe he had been telling her the truth all along but she wouldn't open herself to listen.

Her grandmother's words echoed deep in her heart.

For the first time in so long she felt herself relax.

"Don't get too relaxed," he murmured, his gaze turning positively lecherous.

Chapter Nine.

Jesse couldn't breathe. He was allowing her to see his desire, his pa.s.sionate need to be joined with her, and she feared it was more than purely physical.

As soon as her fear surfaced, he gave an impatient grunt and tipped up her chin. "I won't seduce you. I'm not interested in your s.e.xual response. I want all of you or nothing."

He stood, leaving her stunned, and with a casualness that belied his raging erection, he walked to the ledge that housed the bathing supplies.

He couldn't be serious. Every cell of her skin vibrated with arousal and with a need so powerful that it shook her. "Let me lick you," she choked, her eyes fixated on him.

His c.o.c.k bobbed in response and the angry vein that ran the impossible length of him stood out in stark relief. She couldn't take her eyes off him. The pearly liquid of his arousal s.h.i.+mmered on the blunt tip.

Seemingly ignoring her, he grabbed up a small cloth and squirted peach colored lotion onto it. He came back and tipped her chin up, away from his erection. He looked at her a moment, his eyes hard, but even behind the dark depths she could sense his vulnerability.

He started at her chin, scrubbing her skin with tiny granules of scented apricot as he smoothed the lotion over her face with gentle strokes and swabbed the cloth back to her hairline.

"I meant what I said earlier." He dragged the terrycloth down the bridge of her nose and then dipped it in the water, turning her chin from side to side as he patted her face clean. She couldn't remember what he was referring to, but she didn't care. She studied his handsome face, relaxing into his touch and hoping that he wouldn't stop. But then his jaw tensed.

"We're both going to clean up and get dressed and then I'm going to call the Agency and have them clear you."

She sat up a bit. "You will?"

He gave a sigh and threaded his fingers through her scalp, his strong jaw softening a fraction. "There is no reason for me to run tests. It's obvious you're a high level psychic, but it wouldn't matter anyway. You're no danger to anyone and I can't see that you have any connection with the Continental Council."

"What council?"

He frowned. "It seems you're not the only one who thinks if psychics mate they'll produce super-psychics."

He soaped his hands and then caressed her neck. "Since you're not with the renegade council, you may be in danger of being hunted down by one, captured, and kept as a concubine, for the sole purpose of breeding."

If she had any sense she would have panicked at the knowledge of what he said, but he had slipped his hands past her collarbone and was sliding them over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. With her arms spread out at her sides, he had full access, and she hoped he'd take advantage. "So the rumors are true?" she asked in as casual a tone as she could muster, not wanting to draw attention to how much he pleasured her for fear he would stop.

"Yes." He cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, as though feeling their weight and then soaped his hands again. He lathered every inch of her, pinching and pulling on her nipples, his promise that he wouldn't seduce her hopefully forgotten.

When her nipples hardened to points, he rinsed her off and sc.r.a.ped lightly with his nail over the sensitive peaks. She smothered her moans, but her c.l.i.t throbbed with each sharp flick. She thought she would come from that alone.

"I knew your nipples would be as red and dark as cherries," he murmured. "And they taste as sweet." She prayed he'd sample her again.

But he dropped his hands.

"Please." She squirmed along the ledge, desperate for his touch between her legs. "I'm aching. Just a little bit?"

His eyes grew stormy. She could see the battle he waged within himself. He was still as hard as steel. Her eyes dropped to his c.o.c.k and she licked her lips.

He took a half step toward her, the tip of his c.o.c.k almost touching her lips, but then he gave a disgruntled growl and dropped to his knees.

He suckled her nipples gently, causing her to spread her legs wider in response to her quickly swelling s.e.x. Her arousal throbbed heavily and in perfect harmony with his lips. She moaned softly and rested her head back, completely surrendering to the feel of him.

He pulled her deep into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tips, sending liquid fire though her veins and heating her body beyond endurance. Just when she thought she couldn't take anymore, he lifted his head and studied each nipple, tracing with his fingertip the edges of the areola with a reverence that startled her.

"So large and ripe for such diminutive b.r.e.a.s.t.s," he murmured, examining her meticulously.

She had never considered her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s seductive, but he was studying her as though he had never seen anything more beautiful. His obvious arousal and erotic words were torture.

"I don't think I'll ever get enough of them," he groaned.

He suckled gently, too gently. She spread her legs wider. "Harder," she breathed.

A low rumble of approval traveled up his throat. "Am I frustratingly gentle?" he asked, laving her nipple.

Before she could answer, he cupped her b.u.t.tocks with both hands and squeezed.

She ignited. Every sensory nerve lit to a restless pitch. She wanted his hands everywhere.

"Everywhere?" he murmured against her nipple, his long silky hair caressing skin lit to bursting.

"Yes," she breathed, not caring that he could read her desires.

His fingers played along her bottom, teasing and stroking, one long finger sliding from the small of her back to between her cheeks, and then clear down to her s.e.x and back. A dark s.h.i.+ver stole up her spine. He hesitated between her b.u.t.tocks at the tiny bud of her dusky rose, stroking with the lightest touch, and then skittered away. She groaned in disappointment.

The head of his c.o.c.k slipped along her s.e.x, rubbing over her c.l.i.t and circling it. It felt like it stood out in a sharp point from her l.a.b.i.a. She bucked against him, starving for the friction that would bring her to climax.

"Tell me where you want me to touch you."

"Everywhere," she begged, yanking on her wrists, needing to grab him. Unlock my hands, please." She thrust herself at him. When he glanced into the water at her writhing hips, a smile curved his lips.