Page 37 of Rogue's Possession (Covenant of Thorns 2)

Mesmerized by the moment, I did, gathering up the heavy fall of my hair from the back of my neck, and raising it, my nipples high and tight against the lace. When I faced him again, he’d gone eerily still, a snake in the coiled moment before it strikes. I froze, as any prey animal will.

“Oh, devastating Gwynn,” he finally breathed, coming to life again. “You undo me. Come to me.”

I hesitated.

“Just for the healing,” he offered, gentle, harmless. He stood up from the bed and gestured for me to lie on it. “Healing first.”

I skirted him, sensing his amusement at my cowardice, and settled myself on the coverlet, resisting the urge to yank up the lace higher over my bosom. I tensed when Rogue climbed over me, straddling me without touching, on all fours. His hair slid down to tickle my exposed skin in sundry places.

“Hold on to the headboard.”

“Why?”

He tsked. “So suspicious. I need you to hold still. Shall I tie you?”

Suddenly green silk ribbons appeared, wrapped around the carved slats of the bed, ends dangling invitingly. The sight of them drove a hot spike into my groin and I closed my eyes.

Rogue stroked my cheek. “You want me to.”

I opened my eyes to find him studying me, inhaling me. Seeing things in me I never wanted anyone to see. But it didn’t matter that he accepted this about me, embraced it. I couldn’t allow myself to be helpless with him. Maybe ever. “I can’t.”

“Not yet.”

I didn’t answer, but I couldn’t look away.

He nodded, understanding. “Grasp the headboard then. And hold still.”

I reached up and held on, willing myself to be still. This, too, had been part of my lessons. I possessed a self-control my previous self would have envied. Never mind the price to my sanity.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Rogue sucked a finger into his mouth and set it on one of the bruises. I steeled myself from responding to the touch, clamping down on a moan of pleasure. One after another, he erased the scabs and bruises, as if Photoshopping me. Each time he touched my skin, it was as if an electric spark passed between us. My whole body throbbed for more.

For the last, he cupped my left breast, eyes unfocused and intent. My flesh tingled, rousing to his magic moving deep in the tissues, bringing them to snapping life. His thumb passed over my excruciatingly tight nipple and I couldn’t hold back my moaning response.

“There.” He said it quietly, with satisfaction and a hint of something deeper. He met my eyes. “Perfect.”

“If you can heal, why didn’t you do it before, back at your castle. Why did you bring in Lady Healer?”

“It’s not my forte.” He trailed a hand down my waist, his gaze following. “I can only do small things.”

“Who knew there were limits to your many powers?”

With a rueful smile, he caressed my hip. “Lately it seems there are too many limits.”

His hand touched my naked thigh, where a barely-there streamer had fallen away. My sex pulsed, hot and desperate to be touched. Dangerous.

“Change the gown. Now.”

He smiled, but didn’t move. His fingers were no longer hot on my skin, however, but were shielded by the slight barrier of silk. “As you wish, my Gwynn. The fabric is not as soft as your skin, but I can feel you through it. Touch you as I wish. And now, let’s have our kiss.”

“Oh no.” I whispered it, mainly to myself. He had me so on edge, I felt like I could come from just the touch of his lips.

“Oh yes.” His hand moved on my thigh, sliding up. “I’ve been waiting for this moment since midnight last night. That is my torment.”

The little egg timer, absurd in its perkiness, appeared to hang in midair.

“And this, passionate Gwynn, is yours.”

The timer flipped over and his mouth descended on mine.

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