Julie Leto - Something Wicked

Why attempt to resist her? With all the darkness in his life, she was a beacon of light. God knows he needed the light. Maybe a kiss, a taste, would satisfy him enough so he could send her away before she got hurt.

He grabbed her by the arms and swung her onto the bed. She squealed in surprise, but he squelched the sound with a hard kiss. Without hesitation, her angel-soft lips opened to him and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, reveling in the sweet flavors of mint and spring water.

Was it enough to cleanse him?

His mind flew back to the first time he’d kissed her in the kitchen of her apartment, where she’d struggled to find matching wineglasses and a bottle of merlot. The space had been tight, and the contraction of his insides had been tighter. He’d wanted her so badly, but he’d resisted. Josie was a mystery to him—a free-spirited woman who contradicted everything in his ordered and ordinary world.

That, at least, hadn’t changed.

And neither had the intensity of their kiss. He loved how her tongue sparred with his, how her moans grew louder when he pressed harder against her. Kissed deeper. With each slip of control, his pleasure intensified, as if she’d come here specifically to wash the darkness from his soul.

He pulled away, but she hooked her hands around his neck and drove her fingers tight into his hair.

“Don’t,” she said.

“I’m trying to stop,” he said, his voice thick and raspy from the past twenty-four hours of trying to forget. He’d smoked, drunk, showered, then drunk some more. He’d worked out, using the hotel mattress as a punching bag, working himself into a sweat that had required another shower and another round with the bottle. And still, the memory of the shadow that had tried to invade his body would not recede. How could he let that filth anywhere near Josie?

She shook her head emphatically. “No, I mean…don’t stop.”

Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t resist inhaling deeply, filling himself with her scent. So spicy. So clean. So devoid of the stench of supernatural evil.

“I can’t do this, Josie. It’s not fair to—”

“I wouldn’t have made it this far if I couldn’t take care of myself,” she insisted, her blue eyes bright with resolve. “I know what I want. I know what you want. Take it, Rick. Nothing is stopping you, least of all me.”

Her smile, so sweet yet so seductive, injected a joy into his soul he hadn’t realized until now he desperately craved. God, he wanted her. Had wanted her. From the first minute she’d stumbled into him at the police station to the charged evening he’d spent in her apartment, he’d fought against the instinct to seduce this woman he barely knew. Unable to resist a second time, he kissed her again, nearly delirious with the clean flavors of her mouth and the sweet silkiness of her tongue. Her pleasured moans goaded him while the lace of her bra chafed against his bare chest, driving him mad with wanting.

Her mouth was soft, but her tongue was demanding. In seconds, they established a wild rhythm that pumped his blood with lust. She tore at his hair, then dragged her nails down his back, raking his flesh and awakening needs he’d suppressed for months. The lamplight in the cheap hotel wasn’t the best, but when he finally managed to pull away from Josie, he saw her with surprisingly clear eyes, his vision focused solely on her instead of what might be coming at him from behind.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” he said, stroking his fingers from her chin to the hollow between her breasts, then lower, lingering at the laced edge of her panties.

This time when she speared her fingers into his hair, the tug was gentle, teasing. Before she spoke, she swallowed thickly, drawing his attention to the necklace she wore around her neck.

Bloodstone. Smart girl. Six months ago, he might have thought himself capable of protecting her with just a badge and a service revolver. Now, he knew differently.

“I was hoping you hadn’t forgotten me,” she said.

He kissed her longer this time, slower, allowing the enchantment of her pure, feminine need to push the fear and anger that had driven him all these months further away. Just for a few hours. Minutes. Seconds.

“For the life of me,” he said, “I can’t remember why we waited before.”

“Neither can I, but don’t wait now.”

He did as she commanded, tugging her jeans off her body and allowing his towel to fall to the ground. Against the stiff white sheets he’d lifted from a nearby discount store to replace the ratty rags he’d found covering the lumpy mattress, her skin looked deliciously pink. Her lingerie, while evocative and sensual, hampered her sweet beauty more than it enhanced it. Josie did not belong in black. In every fantasy he’d entertained since the night he left Chicago, she’d worn crisp, clean white or sensuous, calming blue to match her incredibly expressive eyes.

He removed her inky bra, strap by strap, then hook by hook, until her pale breasts were free for him to touch and taste.

He did both, flicking his tongue over her nipples and then watching with keen fascination as the skin swelled and hardened. He flicked again, this time eliciting a tremulous coo from her lips.

Humming his appreciation, he took her right breast fully into his mouth and, with his hand, pleasured the other until she writhed beside him, her thighs tight. He smoothed his palms over her tense flesh until she relaxed and her legs drifted apart to make room for his wandering touch.

Figuring he wanted too much too soon, he lifted his hand, but she grabbed his fingers and guided him toward his original destination—the warm crevice at the base of her thighs. He laved his tongue in tight circles over her nipple as he dipped his fingers beneath her panties. The warm wetness struck him instantly and he couldn’t resist slipping his fingers inside her until she bucked in response.

Sliding upward, he kissed a path from her neck to her lips.

“I want you so badly,” he said, his sex tight against her thigh.

She grabbed him hard and stroked even harder. “Then…what…are you…waiting for?”

“I don’t have—” he started, but her rhythmic massage of his cock knocked his thoughts of protection into a haphazard jangle of words.

“You don’t need,” she said, her words clipped. “I’m clean and on the Pill. You?”

“Last time I checked, I was fine. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone,” he admitted.

She smiled shyly. “Choosy?”

His stomach flipped with unease. “When the only women you’re around are hanging out in shit-hole bars and could turn out to be demons in disguise, yeah. You get real picky real fast.”

Still clutching his sex, she ran the tip of her finger over the head, dispersing the pictures in his mind of any woman other than her. “If it makes you feel better, I’m all human.”

“Honey, I couldn’t feel any better than I do right now. Besides, I know what you are, Josie. An angel. One hundred percent angel.”

He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, wanting to learn her rhythms but becoming instantly caught up in the pleasure of her tongue against his. When Josie pressed the head of his penis against her sex, the explosion of sensation overrode all rational thought. He concentrated entirely on pressing slowly into her tightness, his ears trained to hear and appreciate every note of her pleasure, which she sang in one amazingly glorious sigh.

She grabbed his buttocks and spread her legs wide. The hunger of her tongue clashing with his pulled him closer and drove him deeper. Wild urges warred against his instinct to be slow and gentle, if for no other reason than to make the sensations last as long as possible. But in seconds, he was pumping hard. She took his thrusts, lifting her knees, tilting her hips until he hit the sweetest spot in her body and her insides tightened and spasmed and she wept.