Kinsey Holley - KISS AND KIN

«Wait a minute. You're upset? What'd I do?» He put a hand under her chin to turn her face up, but she yanked her head away.

«You kiss me and apologize, you kiss me again and tell me to stop you, then you treat me like a little girl. Do you want me or not, Taran?»

He tensed, going perfectly still. «Lark, if you knew how much I wanted you, you'd run like hell.»

«You don't know that,» she scoffed.

His voice took on a familiar hard edge, the one he got when he lectured her. «I just mean there are things you don't know, things I haven't told-« «So? There are things you don't know about me. You don't know what I think or what I feel, you just assume you do.»

«I'm trying to protect you.»

«What, now? Taran, you idiot, once you stick your tongue down my throat and grab my ass, you don't get to play big brother any more. We're not that kind of rednecks.»

She stood up, pushing at his shoulders. He didn't move. Legs awkwardly akimbo, she found herself trapped between him and the couch.

She shivered when he growled softly, his face just inches away from her sex. His breath warmed her belly. He rubbed his cheek against her stomach, sandpaper stubble tickling her skin through the thin T-shirt, and she gasped to realize she'd thrust her hips against him.

A hot rush of desire turned her legs to liquid. She would've crumpled if he hadn't taken hold of her at the exquisitely sensitive spot just below her butt. His hands were so large his fingers wrapped around the inside of her thighs. The thought of him sliding his hands up just a fraction of an inch brought a new flood of wetness. She heard him draw a deep breath, and she knew he smelled her arousal. She bit her lip and whimpered at the ache between her legs. He growled deep in his throat and squeezed her thighs.

Are you challenging me, silly brat? She hadn't just challenged him, she reflected; she'd teased and taunted and insulted him. She'd played chicken with an alpha, and she'd lost.

Or not.

«Sit down, Lark,» he said in a dangerously soft voice, his mouth moving against her stomach.

She obeyed, because even with his assistance her legs would no longer support her.

She collapsed to the couch. He slid one hand into her hair and pulled her head back, gripping her chin with the other hand before slowly, with agonizing thoroughness, running his tongue across her top and bottom lips, over and over till she was dizzy, her body suffused with heat and trembling. He bit her bottom lip and sucked on it, hard.

The burning knot of desire in her belly got hotter, and the heat spread lower. Her sex throbbed with wet fire, her spread thighs making the torture so much worse, and she clenched and unclenched her lower muscles in a desperate, fruitless attempt to ease the ache.

He thrust his thumb just inside her lips and ran it over her bottom teeth, smiling slightly when she gently bit it. His tongue replaced his thumb, and she moaned under the onslaught of his kisses.

«Stay here,» he said against her mouth. His voice vibrated inside her chest. He stepped away, and she suppressed a groan as she pressed her thighs together with relief. She sat stupefied, fighting to get her breath back while he walked to the glass doors and drew the curtains shut, then wandered to the loveseat, picking up her brandy glass on the way.

She watched him prowl the room, enthralled with his supple grace and the wild beauty of his body. He turned out the lamp on the end table. The fire behind him cast shadows and highlights across his brawny arms and shoulders, his strapping chest and the flat planes of his stomach. Her mouth went dry as she stared at the fine line of downy blond hair that tapered and disappeared into his blue jeans, tight and straining with his erection.

He was teasing her, she knew, revving her motor and making her wait for the downshift.

She looked up when he nudged her legs apart with his knee. Brandy glass in one hand, he gripped her thigh with his other hand as he smoothly knelt in front of her again. He stared at her lap as he pushed her leg aside, and when his eyes returned to her face, his slow, wicked smile of lust and promise drew a shuddering moan of need she didn't even try to hide.

He tipped the brandy glass to wet his index finger in the golden amber liquid-the same color as his hair, she noted dreamily-and rubbed it on her lips. He repeated the process, and put his finger between her lips, watching her mouth as she sucked. «Harder,» he murmured, and she obeyed, swirling her tongue around his rough skin. He smiled at the faint pop when he pulled his finger out, and he held the glass up to her lips.

She took a small sip. He licked the excess off her lip before he reached over to put the glass on the coffee table.

«Raise your arms.»

Shaking, weak with wanting, she stretched her arms above her head. She closed her eyes and whimpered softly as he began to push the T-shirt up over her ribcage. Her nipples throbbed, already unbearably tight and tingling in anticipation of his touch, and she cried out in torment when his thumbs brushed over them and kept going. Her breath came in short, labored gasps.

«Open your eyes, Lark. I want to see you looking at me.»

She stared at the familiar, beloved face and saw a stranger whose hands and mouth had set her body on fire, a fire he now stoked slowly and relentlessly while she burned from the inside out. She shuddered with every breath she drew, waiting for him to finish pulling the shirt over her head and past her fingertips. When at last it came off, she gasped as air flowed across her breasts.

«Put your hands behind your head, baby,» he said in a low, ragged rasp.

She bent her elbows behind her head and arched her back. The rough hunger in his face and his harsh, uneven breaths sent a primal thrill coursing through her as she realized he burned for her just as she did for him. But his masterful control never wavered. She, not he, sobbed with pleasure when he cupped her breasts in his feverish hands and flicked his thumbs across the taut, diamond-hard nipples.

She put her head back. Instead of kissing her, he took her throat with his mouth, a declaration of dominance. He slid his teeth up and down, his tongue tracing her veins while his fingers traced her areolae. She shivered at the delicious friction of calloused hands against delicate tissue.

He chuckled when she sank her fingers in his hair and pushed his head down to her breast. His scalding, wet mouth closed on her nipple and every time he sucked, she felt an answering throb between her legs. She scooted closer to the edge of the couch, tightening her legs around his, urgently and helplessly thrusting against him.

«I've wanted this so long.» His mouth moved to her other breast, his teeth teasing her nipple, his tongue soothing the bites. «I can't stop, baby. I can't stop.»

«I don't want you to,» she breathed.

She screamed when he slid his hand between their bodies and squeezed her mound. His fingers pressed the flannel fabric between her swollen lips, rubbing it back and forth against her folds while his thumb made slow circles on her clit.

She writhed against his hand and struggled to breathe through the moans racking her body.

«Look at me, Lark.»

She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and gazed, eyes half-closed, at his ravaged angel countenance. He stared at her, rapt.

«You're beautiful like this,» he growled. «You know how many times I pictured you like this? In my dreams, you look like this when you come.»

«Taran, I'm so hot. I can't-please…»

He groaned and shuddered, for the first time clearly struggling to maintain his own control while driving her into frenzy. When he stood to unbutton his jeans, she reached up to stop him.

«Me. Let me,» she said hoarsely. He stilled, panting, gazing at her with an adoration even her sweetest dreams had never envisioned, and she undid each snap with trembling fingers. She ran her palms across the hard, flat expanse of his abdomen, her thumbs stroking his obliques, and she smiled when his muscles spasmed and jumped beneath her hand. His hips jerked, and he grabbed her wrists with a ragged laugh.