Page 36 of Griffin Undone
Confusion dominated her face, but threads of fear were there too. I couldn’t blame her.
“You seem to be able to attach intentions to words. The words become physical ‘tools,’ so to speak, delivering whatever ‘package’ you send.”
“So when I sang…”
“I felt, physically, what you were feeling. That’s how you were able to sever that shifter’s head: you wanted to cut him like he was cutting you, and that intent manifested when you screamed at him.”
Kat put a hand over her mouth, her skin taking on a distinct green tinge. “You mean, in the alley…I…I cut off his head?”
Too late I saw my mistake. “You were hurt, Kat. It was instinctive.” I decided not to mention Maddox’s near evisceration.
“But… No, I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t. Words can’t cut people’s heads off. It’s not possible.”
“We’re not people, remember? And yes, in our world, psychic energy can manifest as physical power, even the power to cut off heads.”
Kat choked.
I wanted to tell her she’d been lucky, that severing a neck was about the only way to kill a shifter. I wanted to tell her to man up, get used to it, that violence was our way of life. From the way she turned her back and convulsed as if struggling not to throw up, I figured none of those things would work. Neither explanations nor admonishment would reach her.
Instead I circled the island, eased up to Kat, and slipped my arms around her. Kat straightened into my embrace and gripped my shoulders with trembling hands, pressing herself into me as if my body could take her away from this knowledge about herself that she didn’t want to have.
That, at least, I could give her.
Shifting my hands to her lower back, I dragged her forward until her body met mine, every inch of our torsos melded together.
Desire sparked. Heat flushed beneath my skin. She wanted comfort; I wanted her. My body didn’t care about her needs. I hardened in a rush, the pain pulling a grunt from deep in my chest. I couldn’t stop my hips from rolling forward, pushing my aching erection into the soft cradle of her lower belly.
Kat gasped.
Revenge, my plan, gaining Kat’s allegiance—it all fell away. Blind to everything but the hunger to taste her, I ducked my head, the scruff on my cheek making a soft sound as it rubbed against her skin, and brought my lips just to the edge of hers. They parted, and a quick flick of my tongue pulled Kat’s flavor into my mouth. I teased closer, trying to gain access to the heated cave of her mouth, but Kat tilted her head away.
“No, Arik. I… No.” She shook her head, red curls sliding across the hand I hadn’t even realized was gripping the back of her neck. “Wait.”
Hungry to connect, to push my advantage further, hungry just to breathe the same air, I kissed the pulse point fluttering at the base of her throat. “It’s okay, Kat.” A gentle slide of my mouth along her collarbone, another, a tentative lick—
A delicate hand landed on my chest, trying to force me back. “No, Arik. I’m just…” Kat’s voice shook, but she firmed her shoulders and raised her face to stare into my eyes. “Look, a lot has changed for me. A lot.” A strangled laugh interrupted her words. “I just need to…take this a little slower.”
A little slower. I closed my eyes as my blood-filled shaft pounded out its disappointment.God save me from virgin females.
But there was too damn much at risk to push it.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t make her think about it, imagine it. Hunger would eventually overcome fear.
I dipped my head one more time. “You know it’s going to happen, don’t you?” I whispered roughly in her ear.
Kat remained silent, but she leaned into my touch ever so slightly.
I sighed against the tender skin of her throat.“All right, Kat. Whatever you need.”
ChapterSixteen
Kat
The grunts and yells and bangs coming from the workout room drifted down the hall to greet me later that night. Arik wasn’t waiting on me, apparently. I eased around the doorjamb, hoping to get a peek at him before he saw me and what I figured were probably stars in my eyes.
He did not have near enough clothes on for what little peace of mind I had left.
Granted, he was wearing pants—some clingy, slick-materialed pants that molded perfectly to the heavy muscles of his legs and butt, not to mention what it did for his, ah, other assets. The image of exactly what those assets might look like and the knowledge that he wanted to show them to me was burned into my mind, flashing at the most inopportune moments. Like now. He might very well be the first man I’d see naked, and I had a feeling all others would pale in comparison, for the rest of my life. However long that life ended up being.
