Maggie Shayne - Weddings from Hell

She rubbed her cheek against his thigh, feeling the springy hair there and warm, firm flesh. Then, turning her head, she admired the proud jut of his erection, the length and size of him. She was responsible for that—his desire and readiness.

For a moment, she doubted herself, and then she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his thickness. His body tensed in response. "That's it," he muttered. "Touch me. Lick me."

Violet needed no more encouragement. His words seemed to strike right at the very center of her sex, intensifying the hot ache there. She could feel dampness on her thighs, cool air on her slick, heated flesh. She kissed the tip, ran her tongue along the smooth, silky head, all the while stroking with her hand.

Payen groaned.

Smiling coyly, Violet lifted her head to gaze at him. Another lick. "Do you like it?"

His lips parted on a small gasp as she took just the head inside her mouth and sucked gently. "Christ, yes. More. Please." His head fell back as she applied more pressure. "Suck it."

She did. Violet bathed him with her tongue, savoring the saltiness of his skin. She took him full into her mouth so that the head filled her throat as she stroked him with her tongue, then withdrew to torture him with licks and nips, while pumping him with her hand. He held her head in his hands, holding her in a way that allowed her to move, but not to release him. As if she would.

This power was intoxicating. Grasping him by the flanks, Violet bobbed her head up and down, sliding her mouth over the slippery length of him until his fingers tightened in her hair.

"Vi," he gasped. "Violet…oh." Then he stiffened and shuddered, groaning aloud as release came upon him.

Releasing him, she rose to her feet. He was leaning back against her vanity for support, head back as he gasped for breath. He was absolutely beautiful.

"You're incredible," he told her as he straightened. She preened under the praise. "Now, it's my turn to taste you. It's been too long."

He was right. Just the thought of what he meant to do to her had Violet practically racing for the bed. Climbing onto the mattress, she leaned back against the pillows and spread her thighs. Could he smell her dampness, her arousal?

Payen followed her onto the bed, kneeling between her spread knees with a seductive smile. "Eager?"

"Yes." What would be the point in lying. "I want your mouth on me, your tongue inside me." He had done that to her before and she'd thought she'd died, it felt so good.

She didn't have to ask twice. Braced on his forearms, Payen lowered his head to the heated valley of her thighs. The first stroke of his tongue made her hips jump in response, jolting her senses into supersensitivity.

He was ruthless with his tongue. He licked her, sucked on her until she thought she couldn't take anymore, filled her with his tongue. And then, he slipped a long finger inside her, stroking a place deep inside that had her writhing and gasping beneath him as his tongue found that tight little spot that ached with the promise of incredible pleasure. And then she came in a great flood of heat that had her shuddering and stifling her cries with her hand.

Payen didn't give her time to recover. He couldn't. He was hard again, tight and heavy with the need to be inside her. Holding her knees apart, he positioned the head of his cock against the soaked entrance to her body, and slowly slid inside. She was so tight, so wet as she stretched to accommodate him. It damned near killed him to go slow, but Violet's coo of delight gave him all the restraint he needed.

Leaning down, he trailed hot, wet kisses along her neck. He nipped gently with his teeth—just the barest scrape of fang. She gasped, arching her hips upward so that he was fully buried within her. He wasn't going to bite her. As good as it would be for both of them, he didn't want anything to interfere or diminish this moment.

It had been too long since he'd felt this completeness. Too long since Violet showed him what it felt like to be home. Her arms and legs were wrapped around him like ivy, holding him so tightly he could feel it in his chest—in his heart.

His mouth went to her breasts, licking and sucking each nipple until they stood tall and distended, red and puckered. Violet gasped and moaned, undulating beneath him. Her fingers caught at his hair, dug into his scalp as she held him to her breast. "Harder," she begged. "Oh, Payen, harder!"

He bit her. He didn't mean to—only wanted to nip at the sweet pebble of flesh in his mouth, but his fangs were fully extended and they pierced the delicate flesh around her aureole. Violet's back arched, giving herself up to the bite as little keening sounds slipped from between her lips.

Payen let the taste of her fill his mouth as he plunged inside her. Hot and wet, Violet thrust against him, every stroke bringing him closer to the edge, as she quaked and moaned beneath him.

Payen's movements quickened. He was going to come. Every lonely moment of the last five years, every empty night had been worth the pleasure of having Violet wrapped around him, pleading with him to make her climax. He would literally smash down mountains for this woman, the only one who had ever accepted him without question.

She terrified him, and yet there was nothing so perfect as the peace he felt in her arms. She belonged to him. And God help him, he belonged to her.

Then it hit. A ragged cry tore from Payen's throat as he plunged himself down upon her. He stiffened as his climax rocked him, pounding his hips against hers as she arched, crying out her own release against his shoulder.

It wasn't until moments later, when he was lying beside her, enjoying listening to the slowing of her breath, that Payen felt the first twinge of regret.

Violet knew what the expression on Payen's face meant. She had seen it five years ago, just before he walked out of her life.

"Say you are sorry and I will neuter you," she growled in a voice strange even to her own ears.

Payen jerked, guilt lighting his eyes. "Violet, I…"

"I mean it, Payen. I have a silver letter opener in my desk."

A sad smile curved his lips. That he didn't seem to take her threat seriously wasn't nearly as much of an insult as the fact that he didn't take her giving herself to him—on what should have been her wedding night to another man—as seriously as he ought. He was the only man she had ever had sex with—the only man with whom she had ever shared a bed. The only man to whom she had ever given her heart.

She would not allow him to make her feel soiled for having chosen him.

His hand braced on the mattress, Payen angled his body toward her. The muscles in his arm bulged beneath the taut gold of his flesh. The slash of his ribs drew her attention to the sheets pooling around his lean hips. He was a beautiful distraction, making her forget her heart's demands with the temptation of his body.

Almost.

"You want to run away," she murmured, drawing her gaze upward to his face, which was no less breathtaking than the rest of him. "Just like you did five years ago."

He reached across the scant distance between them to cup her cheek in his palm. His thumb stroked her flesh softly as he stared into her eyes with a gaze so sweet it broke her heart. It hurt so much—so very much—to know that he wouldn't allow himself to be with her. "As fast as I can," he replied.

She couldn't hate him, as angry as he made her. "Why?"

Warm fingers whispered over her lips—a fragile caress, one that made her breath catch with its simple, light reverence. "You know why."

"Say it." The words came out as a hoarse whisper, made rougher by the tightness of her throat. Violet clutched the sheet to her chest, not to shield her nakedness, but to somehow create a barrier between him and her heart. It didn't work, of course, but it made her feel stronger, kept her from turning her face to his hand, and burrowing there like a needy housecat.