Sylvia Day - A Touch of Crimson

His mouth curved in a purely male smile. “There’s only you, neshama . You alone bring out this side of me.”

She had no idea what he’d just called her, but it struck a deep chord with her, and the way his voice sounded when he said it gave her butterflies. “Adrian… Shit. I’m going to burn in hell for this.”

“For leaning against a wall?” He licked erotically into her ear. “No, you won’t.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing,” she protested, even as she couldn’t seem to find the will to push him away. Not when one of his wickedly talented hands was sliding into her pants while the other was pushing up her camisole and baring her chest.

“This was inevitable. We are inevitable.” His gaze lifted to look into her dazed eyes. “You know it.”

“Why aren’t you afraid?”

“I’m more afraid of not having you than of paying for the privilege.” He cupped her possessively through the lace of her thong.

Her head fell back, all resistance leaving her as his finger teased along the sensitive crease of her thigh where skin met the edge of lace. There was a vibrating anxiety inside her, a piercing hunger and longing that scared her more than the ramifications of what they were doing. The steamy sensuality that clung to him enveloped her, stoking her desire until she couldn’t think for wanting him. She wanted his touch so badly- craved it.

Adrian supported her spine in the cradle of one large hand and arched her toward him. She held her breath, waiting. He blew a cool stream of air over her puckered nipple, and the light constriction of her thong disappeared along with the garment itself. His hot, wet tongue stroked across her at the same moment his fingertips parted her and stroked across her clitoris. She shuddered violently and cried out, so damn turned on she thought she might combust. She was feverish, damp with sweat and the slickness of her arousal.

He gave a rumbling sound of approval. “Soft and wet. And waxed. Nothing to get in the way while I eat you for hours.”

Not wax. Laser. But why argue? He liked it. And she liked that he liked it. She also liked the feel of his feather-light touch circling the trembling entrance to her body, and his tongue fluttering over her hardened nipple. She liked the way his wings curved nearly to the wall, forming a shield of white that made her feel safe and protected. Cherished.

Reaching up, Lindsay ran her hands through the thick strands of his black hair. She lifted one leg and slung it around his hip, opening herself further. “Touch me,” she gasped, writhing as his cheeks hollowed with a quick tug on her breast.

“I am.” His breath gusted warmly over the cooling wetness left from his mouth.

She growled.

Two long, elegant fingers pushed inside her. “Is this what you want?”

Pulling herself up with a grip at his nape, she took his mouth, ravishing it; then she nipped along his jaw down to his throat. Her lips parted over his throbbing pulse, her tongue stroking over it, plumping the thick vein. Then she raked her teeth across it.

He groaned, catching her with an arm around her back. “You’re so fucking hot. You’re driving me insane.”

Her hips pumped and circled, riding his fingers. She tossed his words back at him. “Get me off. Make me come.”

Adrian’s mouth slanted across hers. His thumb pressed against her throbbing clitoris, massaging it with every plunge of his fingers. She sobbed her pleasure into his mouth, her short nails digging into the rock-hard muscles of his shoulders. He caught her tongue and sucked on it, making her sex clench hard on his working hand.

The silky soft stroke of his chest hair across her aching nipples was killing her, finishing the job begun by his tenderness. Everything about the way he touched her was reverent. Worshipful. Even in the midst of the rawest sexual encounter she’d ever had, she felt like it was all about her. About being with her in every intimate way possible.

The orgasm hit her like lightning. She quaked in his arms, climaxing violently, the delicate tissues of her sex rippling along wickedly knowledgeable fingers that curved and rubbed in a way that kept her coming.

Lindsay could only hold on to him, tears squeezing past tightly closed eyelids. Her panting breaths exchanged with his. All the while he kissed her as if he’d die if he didn’t.

She’d barely stopped shaking when his fingers left her and she was lifted against him-naked, her clothes gone the way of his… wherever that was. Entwined, they spun in a controlled rush; then the cool surface of the dining table was beneath her buttocks and she was reaching back, propping her torso up with her arms canted behind her. Adrian pushed her knee aside with one hand and took his cock in hand with the other. The broad crown was tucked against her.

His eyes, shimmering with raging blue flames, stared into hers. “I’ve been starving for you, neshama sheli .”

She’d barely sucked in the shaky breath required to ask him what he said when he began the hot, hard slide into her, pushing her to lie back, blanketing her with the scorching heat of his body. Writhing to accommodate him, she gripped his hips, trying to slow the relentless stretching impalement.

“Jesus-” She gasped, her back arching. “Why the hell are you built like a porn star if you’re not allowed to have sex!”

His laugh swept over her, leaving goose bumps in its wake. It was such a rich, deep sound-infinitely beautiful and soul stirring. Her heart swelled as if she lived and breathed to hear that sound from him.

He sank to the root, touching the end of her. His wings extended and flexed luxuriously, reminding her of the sensual stretching of a well-fed feline. Their eyes met and held; so did their breaths. He cupped her face in that breathless moment, staring at her in a way that melted her.

“ Ani ohev otach , Lindsay,” he whispered, before taking her mouth and filling her burning lungs with his exhalation. He rotated his hips, sinking a fraction deeper. She swore she felt every inch-every ridged vein and every beat of his pounding heart.

She held his nape with one hand, licking across his lips, shaken by the absolute surety that she was right where she’d always longed to be and hadn’t known it. “Adrian, I-”

The sound of resonating chimes froze her. And him.

They clung to each other, breathing hard, his penis a thick, throbbing presence inside her. The full import of what she was doing and who she was doing it with hit her like a deluge of ice water.

The sound came again, followed by a brusque knocking. A damn doorbell.

She gasped a sound of relief, then whimpered as Adrian began to withdraw. His gaze never left her as he pulled out with aching slowness and a tightly clenched jaw. The moment he fell heavily from her body, she scrambled from the table and ran to her bedroom.

He redressed her in her pajamas before she slammed the door shut, but nothing so simple as clothes could make her feel less raw and exposed.

Adrian pushed shaking hands through his hair to straighten it before looking into the oval foyer mirror. Although the sleeveless Asian-style tunic he’d summoned fell to his midthigh and hid his erection, his flushed face and bright eyes, along with lips swollen by Lindsay’s fervency, betrayed his mortal weakness.

He stared at his reflection, regulating his breathing and willing his countenance into the tight, austere lines he was expected to present. He tucked his wings away, knowing they’d betray his roiling emotions as surely as his gaze did.

The bell rang a third time, followed by another round of knocking. He yanked on the levered handle of one of the double doors, then walked away as the door began its automated glide back into a locked position. As he crossed the room, he mentally crushed some of the most fragrant flowers in the massive floral arrangements scattered about the vast suite. The cloying scents couldn’t hide the lush smell of sex from the powerful nostrils of an angel, but at least he could show respect by making the effort.