Calder Born, Calder Bred (Calder Saga 4)

“Suppose my parents heard you come in here.” All his protesting was done with words. The graceful sensuality of her body and the gripping beauty of her face were like drink to him, bringing back memories and making him heady with that old desire.

“I was very quiet. Nobody heard me.” She slid nearer to him and reclined on the pillows that were still dented with his imprint. She lay there, so inviting, that near smile on her lips. “Relax, Ty. We’ll just sit here and talk for a little while.”

“You’re crazy.” He looked at her, his features tightening. “It’s enough that we sleep under the same roof, but to have you in my bed—! Dammit, Tara, do you think I’m made of wood?”

Her soft, breathy laugh was like crystal pendants striking. “I hope not.”

It prodded him. “You’re getting out of this bed,” he growled, remembering too well the number of times she’d tormented him with her body, always denying him, always letting him reach for the damned string and pulling it away.

His arm hooked her waist, meaning to heave her to the side of the bed, back the way she’d come, but she wrapped her arms around his neck, Ty had never guessed she had such strength. Both fell heavily onto the mattress. The feel of her body beneath him was a hot iron; he tried to back off from it, but her tightly wound

arms wouldn’t let him get far.

“Do you still hate me so much, Ty? Must I be totally brazen and shameless?”

His body was arched above hers, muscles straining to keep it there despite the relentless pressure on his neck. He was still, searching her face pooled in moonlight, while he tried to fathom her meaning without reading into it something that wasn’t there.

“Say what you mean, Tara.”

“You want me, don’t you?” Her lips were open, her eyes on his mouth.

“I want you.” All the hunger and loneliness of being without her rose up inside him as he looked at her. “You’re asking to be raped,” Ty accused roughly. He pried an arm loose from his neck and peeled off of her to lie taut and rigid on the bed, trembling inside. She rolled onto her side, facing him. Her slim white hand glided across his bare chest, her fingers running into the curling hairs.

“Ty, my silly love. Must I do the raping, too?” Her lips ran over the bunched muscle in his shoulder.

When she moved onto him, his hands came up to push her off, then stayed to hold the silken weight of her body while she ate at his mouth, her teeth biting at his lip in a hotly playful kiss. He endured its tormenting fire that teased and wouldn’t satisfy, until he could take no more of the raw desire. He was made of flesh and blood.

With a twist of his body, he rolled her away and followed to pin her down, taking the satisfaction from her lips that she had withheld. She was all motion under him, restless and urgent. Her hands were in his hair, nails digging and flexing. Whispering sounds came from her throat, faint, sighing groans of pleasure and need.

He felt her skin against his, the satin robe coming apart and giving his body access to her nakedness. His hands made exploring contact with the rounded shapes of her body, territory he’d yearned to claim. Now it was being surrendered. The fevers heating him could not be dispelled to give him time to question her act.

Her breathing quickened under the caress of his hands. The rough texture of his callused skin was like sandpaper, leaving areas more sensitized than he’d found them. It was good what she was feeling, but the sensations had always been different with Ty. There was no need to hold back anymore. Her heart and her head were of one mind in this.

The pressure was building inside him, perspiration breaking out in little beads to dampen his skin. The hot desire pounding through his veins wanted no time wasted with preliminaries. There was a sane instant when Ty tried to consider the consequences of this moment and pulled back to discover if those vague doubts he’d had about Tara were important. But she clamped her legs around him.

“Ty, please.”

“No.”

“Ty!”

There was no seal of virginity to break. He was absorbed into her and she was all tight and warm around him. After that, it was mindless sensation driven by instinct that coupled them, forging chains that wouldn’t be so easy to break.

Her breathing was settled as she lay half over him, her slim body feeling heavy. “It was good, wasn’t it?” Her soft voice was thick and dreamy.

“Yes.” His hand absently rubbed her rounded hipbone while he stared at the pattern of shadows on the ceiling.

Her fingers ran over the cord in his neck. “You aren’t tense anymore,” she observed. “You’ve been doing too much thinking lately, complicating something that’s very simple. Now that edginess and tension are all gone. And it was so easy, too.”

Her body had taken it from him and given contentment. She had been confident she could erase the things that were troubling him, Ty realized. But there were other needs a man had—needs sex couldn’t satisfy. He stirred, uneasy.

“Ty, what are you thinking about?” she asked at his silence.

“Nothing,” he lied.

“It was what you wanted,” she reminded him.

“Yes.”