Keri Arthur - Beneath A Rising Moon

She was close. The musky scent of femininity stirred the air, mixed with the gentle tang of jasmine. He walked through the strand of Aspens that divided this section of the house from the main gardens, his strides long, eating the ground. If she was indeed leaving, she would have do so through one of three gates. The closest gate to his room lay behind the summer house. He made his way past the grand old pavilion, but her scent didn't linger near the gates. She hadn't come this far yet.

He backtracked to the summer house and there he found her. Stopping in the shadow-filled pavilion, he once again drank in the sight of her. She was small and delicately built--not what he usually chased, that was for sure. Her hair was a silky wave that brushed her hips, and deep gold in color . She still wore the mansion's gown, and the gossamer fine material hid little. He hungrily surveyed the lean length of her, from the proud thrust of her breasts to the dark gold triangle of hair between her thighs, then down the long length of her legs to her toes and back up again.

Her mask was heavily ornate and hid most of her features. But even from where he stood, he could see her eyes. They were the green of a newborn leaf, rich and exotic. The heat in his loins became an ache that almost consumed him. He had to have her. Now.

He moved out of the shadows. Uncertainty flickered in her beautiful eyes, then she came towards him.

Her gaze boldly traveled the length of his body, seeming to linger on the hard evidence of his excitement before finally rising again to his face. Her nipples were puckered, straining against the gossamer restraints of her gown, evidence of the desire he could clearly smell. She entered the pavilion and stopped in front of him. The musky scent of her desire grew stronger, fueling the already raging need in him. But he wasn't the only one aching with the needs of the night and the moon. "So you found me."

Her voice was huskier than before, but still as smooth as silk, as rich as velvet. Despite the heat that surged between them, her gaze was cool. Wary.

"Yes."

He touched her cheek, running his fingers down to the warm fullness of her lips. She trembled under his caress, but didn't back away.

"So you wish to discuss the matter further?" she asked. "No. What I wish is to dance with you."

The words were little more than a formality. She'd basically consented to his advances back there in the fountain.

Panic flitted through her eyes, making him wonder just how new she was to the mansion and its ways.

Certainly he'd never seen her here before, but he'd been away for nearly ten years.

She swallowed convulsively. "Indeed?"

He moved his hand down the long line of her neck. Her pulse was a wild flutter under his fingertips.

"Indeed."

"And what of my desire for a more lingering seduction once the initial fire had gone?"

He let his hand drift down to her breasts and gently rubbed one firm nub through the film of her dress.

She shivered, her lips parting a little, as if she couldn't suck in enough air.

"I think that could be arranged."

She closed her eyes briefly. "One night holds no interest for me this phase."

"But you have not yet tried the goods and cannot say whether one night or more will be enough." He leaned close, his mouth capturing hers, gently demanding. For the briefest of moments, she froze, her lips hard and unyielding under his. Then she sighed and seemed to melt toward him, deepening the kiss, opening her mouth, letting him explore more fully.

Heat shivered through his soul, and the urgency increased tenfold. He wanted her as he'd wanted no other in his life, and the effort of holding back, of not taking her right then and there, had every muscle trembling. But she had yet to say yes. Until she did, he couldn't fully take her. There were rules, even here in this mansion some called a den of debauchery.

He slid his hand down her waist and found the slit in her skirt. Touched the silk of her thigh and worked upwards. He cupped the triangle of her curls then gently delved her moist heat.

Her moan shuddered through him, testing his strength, his will. He delved deeper, sliding through her slickness, until her muscles pulsed around one finger, then two. She pressed against him, riding his hand with increasing urgency. Her skin was feverish, flushed with desire and need.

A need he understood only too well.

She grabbed his shoulders, fingers trembling, nails digging deep.

"By the moon." Her voice was little more than a fractured whisper. "Please…"

Her plea raged across his senses, almost destroying his control. Yet at the same time, an oddly primeval sense of power surged through him. She was his for the taking, whether she'd admitted it yet or not.

He stroked harder, faster. Her body shuddered against his, her skin glossy with perspiration. He kissed her ear, ran his tongue down the long line of her neck. She tasted of honey, desire and sunshine--and he knew then she was a wolf who played in the daylight more often than moonlight. They lived in two different worlds, but right then, he didn't care. She'd stepped into his realm, and he intended to take every advantage of it.

He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard through the gossamer material. Her shuddering reached a crescendo, and her cry of pleasure sang through the night. A wave of primitive power surged through him, yet he knew he could take her higher, deeper, than what she'd yet tasted.

He slid his fingers free of her and began undoing the ties of her gown. Her eyes, darkened by a mix of pleasure and surprise, flew open.

"Dance with me." The ancient yet formal words of binding slipped hastily off his tongue, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. "Let your body join with mine and rejoice in the power of the divine light."

He slid the gown fr om her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Her skin was pale gold silk and glowed softly in the darkness. Her breathing was quick, sharp, every intake seeming to shudder through her entire body. He pushed her back until she was trapped between the wall of the pavilion and him. The heat of her washed across his senses, and the wild beat of her heart was a siren's song that fueled his urgency to greater heights. It was all he could do to simply stand there, his body pressed hard against hers, seeking and yet not entering. "This night," he continued raggedly. "And the remaining nights of this phase."

An odd mix of apprehension and elation ran through her eyes. She took a deep breath, then released it in a shudder. "This night," she whispered. "And the remaining nights."

Mine. With savage exaltation he surged into her. Groaned in bliss as her muscles contracted against him.

God, was there a sweeter sensation on this earth? He slid his hands down her hips and cupped her buttocks. "Wrap your legs around me."

His demand was little more than a growl, but she seemed to understand him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and her arms slipped around his neck. His movements became hard, fast. Hot flesh slapped against hot flesh. There was nothing gentle about this mating. Couldn't be, with the heat of the moon riding them both so fiercely. Gentleness would come later, once the initial urgency had gone.

He claimed her mouth, kissing her ferociously. Passionately. Their tongues dueled, explored, the rhythm echoing the thrusting of his hips.

The red tide rose, becoming a wall of pleasure he could not deny. His movements quickened. Deepened.

Her gasps reached a second crescendo, and her cries echoed across the silence as her body bucked against his. He came--a hot, torrential release whose force tore a shout from his lips and sent his body rigid.

He couldn't say how long they stood there like that, bodies locked together, the night air gradually cooling their fever-kissed skin. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours.