L.L. Foster - The Kindred

For an indeterminate amount of time they remained that way, separated by space but connected just the same, each unwilling to make the first move. The longer Gaby delayed, the more she hurt. Not the pain of a devout calling, but pain from sharp need, a need she’d seldom experienced before Luther had forced his way into her melancholic life.

A need she had long ago denied existed.

“Fuck it.” Gaby took one step, then another. Her heartbeat and the racing of her pulse sent a cacophonous echoing through her brain. Each step grew harder, faster—and she saw an infinitesimal relaxing of Luther’s broad shoulders.

The closer she got to him, the more she convinced herself that she had more reason to be disgruntled than he did.

Hadn’t he left her high and dry earlier that day, after getting her all hot and bothered? Sure he had to work. She understood that.

But knowing he might have to leave, he’d still gotten her primed to experience new depths of sensuality—and then he’d walked away from her.

Because of her anger, he’d left her with a promise, a carnal tease about intimate matters to be completed.

And, by God, she would demand he fulfill that promise tonight.

Carried forward by resentment, Gaby bypassed the walkway and stomped over the dew-wet lawn. A stiff, cool breeze moved through the heavy branches of the trees in his front yard, shaking loose raindrops to dampen her hair and skin.

Gaby didn’t feel the chill.

Focused only on Luther, her gaze locked on his, she marched up the porch steps and to the open doorway where he waited with crossed arms and copious macho attitude.

Close enough that their breaths mingled, she stopped. He stood there in austere inflexibility, his brown-eyed gaze locking onto hers with such strong, conflicted feeling that her knees went rubbery.

Today, she had been forced to kill two beautiful animals.

Today, she had seen misery in a young girl’s face and learned the intended fate of an innocent child.

All in all, it’d been a super-sucky day.

Gaby didn’t want Luther to start chastising her. She didn’t want to argue with him. The past few hours had been so fraught with fears and disappointments that she wanted only the unique, opulent contentment he could give.

He didn’t reach for her, but so fucking what?

She was used to taking matters into her own hands. And this time, she would do so . . . literally.

Luther felt every punching beat of his heart as forcefully as he felt Gaby’s resolve.

But resolve to do what?

His lungs labored for air, but a pressure on his chest kept the deep breath at bay.

“I came home,” she told him with her chin in the air and a sour tone of accusation.

His chest grew so tight that speaking proved impossible, so he only nodded.

Then Gaby grabbed his crotch.

That got his air moving in a strangling inhalation. His arms fell to his sides, his stomach knotted.

She put her mouth to his throat. “No games, Luther. No lectures or long inquisition. I need you. I need everything you promised.” She bit him, but then soothed the sting of her sharp teeth with the damp stroke of her tongue. “In all my twenty-one years, you’re the only person who’s ever made me forget the ugliness.”

Leaning back, she demanded from him with glittering blue eyes, her features already shifting in that anomalous and hotly appealing way of hers.

“Help me forget, Luther. Right now.”

A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind; with Gaby’s propensity for finding the goriest of evil, anything might have occurred. He needed to know details; he needed to talk with her.

But that thought was obliterated by the anxious way her slender fingers cuddled his length through the denim of his jeans. When her breath hitched he was so lost that he didn’t know if he’d ever find his way back.

Scooping one arm beneath her small derriere, Luther lifted her up and against him. Their mouths met, hungry, demanding, frenzied with pent-up need.

He moved them both into the house and kicked the door shut, then shoved Gaby against it to kiss her harder, deeper. Her long legs wrapped around his waist and she sank her fingertips into his shoulders.

Keeping his mouth on hers, he used one hand to shove her shirt up, to get to her small, firm breasts. She freed her mouth with a harsh groan.

Arching into him, she said, “Let’s get naked.”

Oh God, the things she did to him.

Luther fought for control. He wanted to make love to her gently, to show her how much she mattered to him, to show her all the pleasure to be had between them.

But she bit his chin, his jaw. “Naked, Luther. Now . Don’t make me fight with you.”

A reluctant smile worked through the lust. Yeah, Gaby would probably wrestle him to the ground if she didn’t get her way. “No problem.”

He loosened her left leg from around his hip and helped her to stand. Before she’d even gotten both feet on the ground, he pulled her shirt up to expose her naked breasts while she unfastened that damned sheath and let her knife drop to the floor with a clatter.

Using his foot, Luther kicked it to the side. Keeping his gaze glued to her now-taut nipples, he went to work on the snap at her waistband.

But Gaby was just as busy undressing him, and before he could do more than shove her jeans down her hips, she had his cock in her hands. Staring down at him, she licked her lips and groaned.

He lost whatever semblance of a rational, reasonable man he’d ever possessed. It had been too long, and there’d been far too much between them for him to hold back any longer.

Again locking her against the door, Luther put a foot to the bunched material of her jeans and stepped down, shoving them to her ankles. He used his knee to open her thighs as far apart as possible. It wasn’t much, given that she was practically hobbled, but he’d make do.

Gaby grabbed his ass and pulled him closer, saying in a low, thrumming growl, over and over again, “Yes.”

Raging need had such a stranglehold on Luther, he couldn’t see straight. Blind lust drove him as he cupped one hand under her bottom to lift her enough to align their bodies. With his other hand he guided himself to her, and found her hot, slippery wet, so damn ready.

“I’m sorry, babe.” Grasping her hips with both hands, he drove forward with a hard thrust that buried him completely and lifted her toes from the floor.

Going stiff, Gaby sucked in a sharp, startled breath that froze Luther—until she let the breath out in shuddering, purring pleasure. Against the restriction of her jeans, she brought her knees up to clasp around his hips and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Sinuous and sexy, she squirmed, trying to get more of him.

Her heavy-lidded gaze met his. Her eyes were smoky, intense, the shape more defined with her arousal.

Slowly, she stared down at his mouth and demanded, “Again.”

Luther gave up. He took her mouth even as he pulled out, only to hammer back into her again. Like a cat, she curled closer, hugging herself all around him.

Knowing he battered her but accepting that she loved it, that she was every bit as turned-on as he was, he found a hard, thrusting rhythm that soon had them both on the brink.

How could he have thought, even for a second, that Gaby would be any other way?

She went through life full-force, without constraint or modesty. She didn’t know half measures, had no grasp of social propriety.

For most of her life she’d been without friends, without understanding, without a single caring touch.

Luther vowed to show her the individual satisfaction of tenderness, and lovemaking.

Later.

For now, Gaby demanded a hard fuck, and that worked just fine for him.