Chapter Ten
Nic knew Constance was distracted. Not for long, but every now and then, she drifted away from him in spite of their physical closeness. Not surprising considering her sister was being held captive and her friend had been killed.
She looked like a mythical siren with her red-tipped blond hair and her ocean-blue eyes. Her breasts were high and firm, her waist dipped in, and her hips curved gently. She was long and lean and strong. The hair covering her mound was a neat thatch, just a shade darker than the hair on her head.
He knew he’d seen more beautiful women in his over four thousand years of living, but none had ever affected him the way Constance did. He wanted to devour her.
He opened his mouth to suggest maybe they shouldn’t be making love at a time like this, but before he could speak, she reached out and ran her fingers down his shaft. The big brain shut down, and the smaller one took over.
He shoved his hips forward so she had easier access to him. Her hand was a lot smaller than his and not nearly as rough, but there was no doubting her strength when she wrapped her fingers around the base and pumped.
Stars exploded behind his eyes. This was going to be over before it started. He yanked away when all he wanted to do was let her keep touching him.
Her plump lips turned down in a frown. He lowered his head and captured them. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and then the top, teasing until she was breathless. Then he plunged inside, ravaging her mouth, showing her what she could expect from him.
She ran her hands up his shoulders and neck and returned the kiss with equal passion. Nic wanted to roar with pleasure. She would match him perfectly in bed. He knew it in his heart.
He ignored the more intelligent side of his brain that warned Constance was dangerous. She was a distraction he didn’t need at a time like this. The Knights of the Dragon were out there, and he was on their radar. The smartest thing he could do would be to leave town.
The image of him curling up and falling asleep in some desert popped into his head. He knew the Deep Sleep was where he was headed if his life didn’t change. He might disappear forever if that happened.
He didn’t want to end life without ever knowing what it was like to make love with Constance, to have her lips on his and her heat wrapped around his cock.
That would be a slice of heaven.
He managed to pull himself away from her lips, but it wasn’t easy. They were sweet, and she was as eager for this as he was. He kissed a path down her slender throat all the way to her breasts. He sat back and plumped both mounds in his palms. The contrast of his big, masculine hands covering her delicate skin turned him on. His shaft, already hard and swollen, seemed to grow even larger.
He lowered his head and kissed her stomach. Her breath caught in her throat before she released a low moan. He could become addicted to that sound.
Nic worked his way up to her breasts and teased the hard tips with his tongue. His name fell from her lips, a breathy sigh that made his balls clench.
There wasn’t time to go slow, not this first time. He was too on edge, too close to coming.
He cursed the sofa for being so short and knelt on the floor, turning Constance so he could lay her legs over his shoulders. That opened her up to him. Her eyes grew wide, and she swallowed heavily. Her skin was dewy. He wanted to lick every inch of her. And he’d start right here.
He ran his hands up the insides of her thighs. Her skin was satiny soft. The folds of her sex were pink and moist and inviting. He ran his index finger up one side and down the other.
Her entire body shuddered, and she groaned. “Nic.”
Oh yeah, this was what he wanted. He moved his head closer, fanning his warm breath over her sensitive skin. She dug her fingers into his biceps. He knew her short nails would leave marks. He liked the idea of wearing her mark, if only for a few minutes.
Then he tasted her. Spicy and warm and musky. He groaned and ran his tongue over her sex, exploring every inch. She moaned and squirmed when he teased her clitoris, but he held her firmly with his hands, determined to have this moment. His eyes practically rolled back in his head she tasted so good to him. No, she tasted right. That was the word he was searching for.
When he finally raised his head, they were both panting. Her eyes were glazed over, and she was shaking.
“Nic.” The need in that one word would have sent him to his knees if he wasn’t already there. He pulled her off the edge of the sofa and onto his lap. Keeping eye contact, he lifted her and slowly began to lower her over his shaft.
Her slick channel was tight and resisted penetration at first, but he kept up a slow, steady pressure until he pushed past. Inch by slow inch, she sank onto him, her inner muscles rippling as her body became accustomed to his size and length. Finally, after what seemed like years instead of probably less than a minute, she was seated to the hilt.
He placed his hands on the edge of the sofa and squeezed the cushions. Her eyes were closed, her breathing ragged.
“Are you okay?” He was surprised he could even speak.
She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.
“Constance.” He caught her face in his hands and made her look at him. A bead of sweat broke out on her forehead. Her eyes seemed darker. There was pain reflected there, but he didn’t think it was physical. “Sweetheart?”
She shook her head and then she kissed him.
…
Constance wanted to lose herself in the perfection of their lovemaking. Nic filled her completely. It had been uncomfortable at first, but her body had stretched to accommodate him. Now, it was as though they’d been made to fit together.
He was pulsing inside her. His heart was pounding in his chest. Or maybe it was the pounding of her own heart she heard. Their connection was sublime. Perfect. And this would be the only time it ever happened.
She pushed that thought away, determined to enjoy this one special and very precious moment.
Nic leaned forward and pressed her back against the side of the couch. With it behind her and him in front of her, there was nowhere for her to go. She felt completely surrounded.
Safe.
The word popped into her head. She knew there was no such thing, but it was nice to experience it, if only for a scant moment.
She was very aware the clock was ticking down for her sister, for her and Nic’s time together. A part of her knew she was suppressing her anger and sadness over what had happened, losing herself in the pleasure of their lovemaking. And that was okay. That was what she had to do to survive.
She rested her hands on his shoulders and lifted slightly before lowering back down. The slide of his thick cock in and out of her tight sheath sent shivers cascading over her. She wanted more, so she did it again.
Nic made a deep rumbling sound before locking his hands around her waist and helping her to rise up and sink back down. She lost count how many times they did this. It was like a dance, this erotic mating ritual. It was more than just their bodies melding. It was as though she was losing her very soul to him, and she handed it over without a fight.
She’d never been in love before and feared this was what it felt like. The tightness in her chest, the fear for his safety, the anguish at knowing she would betray him. But she’d save him, too. There could be no other possible outcome. She had to save him.
Then he was moving faster, going deeper with each thrust. He lifted them both and placed her back on the sofa. With one foot still on the floor, he began to drive harder, filling her and then pulling back until only the broad tip of his shaft remained before plunging back, again and again.
She rode out the sensual storm, letting it take her where it would. Nic’s tattoo began to glow. She blinked, and the strange anomaly was gone. A trick of the light, for sure. Still, she found herself mesmerized by the pattern. She reached out and traced her fingers over the design that ran down his left shoulder.
He groaned and reached between their bodies and touched his thumb against her clit. She exploded in a tidal wave of passion, swamped by heat and trembling at the power of it.
Nic clamped his jaw shut, and the groan that echoed in the room was a combination of release and pain. He pumped into her several more times before collapsing on top of her.
Both of them were sucking in air like they hadn’t had a deep breath in days. Constance stared up at the ceiling, knowing he’d changed her as a person at the most fundamental level.
As impossible as it was, she loved him. There could be no other explanation. She wanted to protect him as much as she did her sister. She wanted to be by his side forever, to take care of him, to make him…happy. She had the sensation he showed a mask to the world, but beneath it was a great sorrow. She wanted to know what caused it. She wanted to know everything about him.
God, she was sunk. She threw her arm over her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Spasms rippled through her, making her sex clench around his shaft, which still seemed as hard as ever.
They’d just had unprotected sex. Not that she wasn’t on birth control, because she was. She firmly believed a woman needed to take care of herself. But there was more to worry about than getting pregnant. She knew she was clean. This was the first time she’d ever made love without insisting her lover use a condom.
Then she mentally shrugged. What did it matter since she didn’t expect to live anyway? If they all got out of this alive, she’d mention her concern to him.
He slowly lifted himself off the cushions and stared down at her. “Are you okay?” He brushed a damp lock of hair off her forehead. The tender gesture almost broke her.
She nodded. “Yeah.” Her voice was hoarse so she cleared her throat. “You?”
The slow, sexy smile that spread across his face made her toes curl. “Oh yeah.”
A warm sensation filled the area around her heart before expanding to the rest of her body. She so badly wanted to say the words that welled up in her heart but swallowed them back. How could she tell him she loved him and then betray him? She couldn’t. It would hurt both of them even more.
It was torture knowing she was going to destroy something so precious before it really had a chance to take root and grow. She cursed Dent, and she cursed these unknown Knights of the Dragon with their insane thirst for power and search for a mythical creature. What kind of intelligent person believed in dragons? None, which meant she was dealing with obsessed crazy people masquerading as intelligent people.
Nic sat back, the motion pulling his shaft from inside her. He was still fully erect, which should be impossible, but the proof was there for the seeing. He was still wearing his jeans, but they were low on his hips. The tattoo continued down his left hip and thigh. She didn’t need him to remove his pants to know it went all the way to his ankle.
What would become of them?
He caught her chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing her attention back to him. “I probably shouldn’t have done that,” he began. “But I’m not sorry it happened.”
The heaviness in her chest lightened slightly. “I’m not sorry, either.” She could give him that much.
He smiled, and his dark eyes seemed to glow. Then he blinked, lowering his impossibly thick lashes. A woman would kill for lashes like that, but in no way did they appear feminine on Nic. He was too masculine, too—she searched for the right word to describe him—primal, that was it. There was something about Nicodemus Wilde that was just that, wild and untamed.
He hitched up his pants and tucked his shaft away. Constance was suddenly very conscious of being naked while he was mostly dressed. She sat up and grabbed her shirt and pulled it on, not bothering with her bra. Her panties were tangled in her jeans. She grabbed her clothes and all but bolted from the room. “I’ll be right back,” she promised.
She closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned against it. There was no taking back what she’d done, what had been set in motion. Dent might have ordered her to have sex with Nic, but they hadn’t had sex. They’d made love, or at least she had. And she’d done it because she’d wanted to.
Maybe he’d understand why she had to betray him. She snorted and blinked back the tears that threatened. No man was that understanding. It was more likely he’d want to kill her, and he was more than capable.
A shiver ran down her spine. He’d certainly had no trouble handling the men who’d come for the statue at the first meeting.
Just who was Nic Wilde?
She pushed away from the door and hurried to the bathroom. She dampened a cloth and began to clean herself up. She had to be quick. She had no idea when Dent would call. Or how long Nic would wait for her to return.
Nic was an enigma. He’d walked into her life and changed it forever. She had no idea where he lived. She knew he bought and sold items for a living, but was his business even legal? She shuddered. She had no idea.
Falling for him was probably the dumbest thing she’d ever done, which only went to prove the heart didn’t listen to reason. She couldn’t allow her newfound feelings to pull her away from her main goal. Abigail was her first priority, now and forever.
With that in mind, she tossed the cloth aside and pulled her clothes back on. Her hair was a mess, so she dragged a brush through it. For moral support, she added some light lip gloss. Taking a deep breath, she left the bathroom and marched out of the bedroom and back to the living room.
Nic was totally dressed, which was a shame. She could look at him for hours. He was frowning, not a good sign. “What did Dent say when he called again?”
She’d known this was coming. Nic might have been momentarily sidetracked, but he was nothing if not focused. “I’ve already told you everything.” That was one big lie. She almost reached up to see if her nose was growing before fisting her hand by her side.
Watching him was a reminder of just how big he truly was. Massive was a good word, but he moved with the ease and fluidity of a much smaller man. “You might have forgotten something.”
He started to come toward her, but she took a step back. That stopped him cold and he narrowed his eyes.
“If you touch me, we’ll end up doing more than just talking.” That was the truth. She was also afraid if he touched her again, she’d spill everything, and that would mean the death of her sister. Dent was determined, and he seemed to have dangerous men at his disposal, while Nic was only one man. The odds were not in their favor.
He lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. She wondered if he had the tattoo on his back as well. He’d always been facing her, so she hadn’t seen. It did run all the way around his arm and not just on the front.
“You’re right.” He raised his head and pinned her with his dark gaze. “So Dent called to tell you about Mario?”
She sat in the closest chair, pulled her feet up, and wrapped her arms around her knees. “It was more a warning really. He was adamant that you not follow me the next time, or he’ll kill Abigail. He’s already hurt her.”
She swallowed the huge lump in her throat. The thought of her baby sister being harmed in any way hurt Constance to her very core. She had always protected Abigail, had been a mother to her since theirs had died.
Nic came to her and crouched beside the chair. “We’ll get her back.”
“I’ll get her back,” she corrected. She had to get Nic out of the house. If she asked him to leave, he’d get suspicious. But if they had a fight, he’d leave on his own.
He scowled, his expression fierce. “You can’t expect me to walk away.”
“That’s exactly what I expect and want you to do. Having you around is only hurting my sister.” Each word was like a dagger to her heart, but she said them anyway. “Dent wouldn’t have hurt her or killed Mario to make a point if you hadn’t interfered.”
It almost broke her to say such horrible things. She in no way blamed Nic for any of this situation.
His expression went blank, and he slowly stood. “I see.”
This was what she wanted. So why did it hurt so much? The tender expression he’d had when he’d looked at her earlier had been replaced by a hard mask. It was still Nic, but not the Nic she’d come to know.
“I have to save my sister.” The words were a tortured whisper.
Nic flinched and nodded. “Then I’ll leave you to it.” He grabbed his jacket, slipped it on, and headed for the door. She wanted to grab him and tell him she didn’t mean a word of what she’d said. She dug her fingers into the arms of the chair to keep from flinging herself at him.
“Call if you need me.” On those last words, he opened the door and slipped outside. When the wooden panel closed, Constance was all alone.