Page 56 of Edge of Darkness (Night Prowler 4)
Keeping his gaze on hers, he rolled off her so his weight was balanced on one elbow, then he slowly ran his hand down her ribcage, over her belly, and beneath the elastic waistband of her cotton pajamas. When his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her panties she gasped, but he softly ordered, “Stay still. And keep quiet.”
With her heart hammering against her breastbone, she pressed her lips together and nodded.
When his fingers stroked over that little swollen nub between her legs, she was glad he’d told her to be quiet, because the groan that rose in her throat would have been loud enough to wake the neighbors and send Asher crashing back into the room. She jerked against his hand.
“Shh,” he whispered, when her breath caught in her throat and a little noise escaped her as his fingers slid farther down, then slowly penetrated her. Her eyes slid shut, her back arched, and she had to bite her lip to keep quiet.
“You’re soaking wet, baby,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and his breathing irregular, two fingers sunk deep
inside her and his thumb making slow circles over her clit. “You’re so wet for me.”
She whispered his name, rocking against his hand, pleasure gathering to an exquisite bright peak inside her body. She never knew it could be anything like this, so fast, hard, and total, the sensation overwhelming. Every nerve and cell strained, focused on such a small, wonderful area. Her face and chest were flushed with heat, her breath was uneven, her fingers twisted into his hair, and all she could think was more, more, please, yes, more.
“I want to watch you come,” he whispered, his voice a rough heat at her ear, a blues singer’s mix of silk and sandpaper. His tongue flicked out and stroked her earlobe and she shuddered, arching higher into him, her breasts crushed against his chest. He lowered his head, suckled her nipple into his mouth, and she gasped as his fingers probed deeper.
He kept stroking and suckling, his body hot and hard against hers, his breath just as ragged as her own, his fingers and tongue demanding and relentless, until she moaned as the first convulsion rocked her. Then he kissed her, sucking hard on her tongue, stifling her moans with his mouth as every part of her trembled and thrummed. Lightning crackled through her blood, breaking her apart, and she felt as if she were drowning in him, in his scent and taste, in the sweetest, darkest, most powerful pleasure she’d ever known.
Finally she was spent and collapsed back against the mattress, panting, delirious.
Her eyes drifted open. Christian was staring down at her in fierce intensity. “Beautiful,” he whispered, pressing the softest of kisses to her lips. “You are so beautiful, Ember.”
The he withdrew his hand from between her legs, lifted it to his face, put two fingers in his mouth and sucked them, licking off her arousal.
He did it slowly, with his gaze locked on hers, and it was the sexiest, most carnal thing she’d ever seen.
Then he took those same two fingers and pressed them against her lips. She opened her mouth and took them in, tasting herself—salt and tangy wetness—sucking just as he’d done, their eyes still locked together. There was heat and animal passion in his eyes, a dangerous light. When he withdrew his fingers he replaced them with his tongue, and the kiss they shared was wild, hungry, and desperate, a promise of things to come.
He broke away first. He sat up and set her on her shaking legs, gave her a little push toward the door.
“Go on,” he said, his voice husky. “Go on and talk to your friend before I lose complete control of myself.”
Stunned and breathless, barely functioning, Ember nodded, smoothed her hands over her hair, inhaled and exhaled carefully, and went to the door. Without looking back at Christian, she turned the knob and walked through the door, closing it firmly behind her. Still trembling, she leaned against it.
On the sofa in the living room, Asher sat with his arms crossed over his chest. When he caught sight of her face, he rolled his eyes and drawled, “Well, I guess that fight’s been won.”
But Ember, heart pounding, body aflame, had a feeling the real fight was just about to begin.
Whether she liked it or not, she was falling in love with this man who was not a man, and she had to decide what she was going to do about it.
Christian sat on the edge of the bed looking down at his hands, surprised to see them trembling.
Her response to him had been totally unexpected, natural and abandoned, a sensual reaction that had the animal inside him roaring in pleasure. It took every ounce of willpower he’d had to set her away from him, but he did it because he knew she wasn’t ready yet.
Her body was, but her mind was another matter.
He wondered where her heart weighed in on all this.
He blew out a hard breath and stood, ignoring the sound of the words Ember and Asher were exchanging behind the closed bedroom door. He’d practiced for years to master the ability to block things out at will, a necessary skill without which his acute senses would overload his brain to drowning. His brain was already overloaded enough, thank you very much—and he suspected it would only take the tiniest bit of coaxing to push him right over the edge into madness.
For example, if she came back through the door and kissed him again.
Her mouth was so sweet, her scent and small, restless moans even sweeter, the way she looked at him…the way she tasted. Christ, the way she tasted. He’d been dreaming about it for weeks, and the reality was so much better than even his best fantasies it didn’t seem possible.
He put his head in his hands, thought for a moment, then did the only thing he could do:
He left.
He wrote her a short note that he left on the pillow they’d shared, crossed to the window, and cracked open the panes. Looking up at the winking stars, feeling the cold salt air bracing his face, he closed his eyes and let the magic of the Shift rise to a glittering peak within him.
