Page 9 of Whispers of Torment

Panting as if he’d outrun the British forces, Nathan straightened to face the great glowing sun across the water. The wind gusted at his face, blowing his hair off his forehead. He knew Lillian was no longer in Hawaii, but he would take away tiny pieces of her in his search.

A hair, a pearl…a name.

Lillian felt the mattress sink beneath John’s weight. A cold, wet cloth touched her forehead, and she opened her eyes into his worried gaze. He smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek.

“Lillian.”

She stared past him, through him, seeing the USS Arizona Memorial and a name beneath her finger. She saw a sunny kitchen with a jug of flowers centered on the table. And deeper in her mind lived a rugged blond man, grinding his jaw in frustration.

John stroked the back of her hand. “Are you all right, love?”

She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and pressed it with her teeth before releasing it. “I’m thirsty,” she said quietly.

John shot across the space, located a bottle of water and filled a glass tumbler. Lillian scooted into a sitting position, hugging her knees to her chest. She accepted the water and drank it in one breath.

When the last drop wet her tongue, he set aside the glass. And then he was crushing her to him, kissing her hair, her temple, the crest of her cheek. She clung to his neck, her bracelets digging into her skin.

“What do you remember?” He rocked her.

“I think I was Made immortal on that street.”

He released a ragged breath. “You were.”

Her head reeled. “I think you Made me immortal that day.”

“I did.” His voice was choked.

“Why did you bring me here after all these years?”

He buried his face in her hair. “I don’t know why. I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you.” He clenched her tighter against him and spattered her face with kisses.

The warmth of his mouth stirred her. Her nipples strained against her bodice and moisture gathered between her thighs. “John, I want you.”

He jerked as if knifed, withdrawing enough to see her eyes. His were dark and glittering. “What do you mean?”

“You. Your body. I want you to make love to me.”

“Oh, God.” He groaned. In an instant he flipped her beneath him. His hard chest and thighs pushed her into the bed. Heat pooled between them. “Lily, the sun rose for me on the day you were Made.”

She cupped his jaw, black with stubble, letting her thumb skim his full lips. He nipped the soft pad of her thumb and sent a shudder of need between her thighs. His fingers trailed over her collarbone to the swell of her breasts, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. The first brush of their mouths ignited her. He tasted of male and musk and the peppermints he liked to suck.

She threaded her fingers into his hair and held him to her roughly, drawing gulping breaths of his scent. Before she could part her lips for his tongue, he tore his mouth away and turned it against her left wrist. He kissed her bracelet hard, and continued toward her elbow, lightly pinching her flesh between his lips.

One hand reached under her and eased down the zipper on her dress. The metal vibration of the zipper against her sensitive spine made her writhe. He separated the fabric and traced his fingers against her immortal tattoo.

The bolt of electricity from his touch shot through them, heightening their need. Flames licked down to her pussy.

In one hasty movement, her dress lay crumpled on the floor and John knelt over her with his thumbs hooked in the lace of her panties. As he slipped them slowly down her hips, he held her gaze.

“My beautiful woman. Mine.” Her panties disappeared, her knees were nudged apart and his dark face plunged between her thighs. He nuzzled her mound of curls, scraping them with his rough jaw. She twisted her fists in the sheets, hips grinding, seeking his touch on her hard, slick clit.

The tip of his tongue tasted the crease of her thigh, teasing up the vaginal lip to her quivering inner lips. He moaned as he found the pool of juices. As he lapped at them, Lillian stopped breathing.

A knot formed in her core as his tongue flicked inside her. His fingers tickled over her pussy, spreading her gently and exposing the hard pearl that most wanted his attention. His hot mouth descended, drawing her clit between his lips. He suckled it tenderly, his tongue working in a circular motion.

A gasp escaped her and she splayed her hands over his shoulders, nails lightly raking his skin. His finger pressed at the entrance of her tight hole, and a flood of wetness bathed his hand. Without warning, he speared her on his finger, driving it into her sheath. Immediately he found the needy spot that sent her out of control. He circled her g-spot with maddening slowness. She bucked against his hand.

Against her clit, his tongue mirrored the stroke of his finger, circling, plunging, driving her to the brink. Her inner thigh muscles quivered and she longed for a taste of his flesh.

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