Chapter 22
“Trust me,” he whispered against the shell of her ear as they lay naked in the darkness. The night sang with the sounds of frogs and crickets. The forest loomed above them. A breeze rattled the dry branches overhead. An October moon slid silently across a cloudless, starry sky.
Her heart was pumping, her breathing shallow as they lay upon a bed of dry leaves that rustled with their movements. Sweat soaked their naked bodies and the wind that swept through the surrounding trees was dry as a dragon’s breath and twice as hot. Far off, a dog was barking.
Or was it a wolf?
Sensing she was doing something vastly dangerous, Shannon couldn’t stop herself. Her skin rippled with want. Her blood ran hot in her veins. She returned the fervor of his kisses with her own.
She tingled all over. Desire pounded through her brain.
She wanted this man, needed him.
His lips were warm and sensual, his body naked and taut, lean muscles rubbing over her own bare skin. He touched her intimately. Lovingly. His mouth found hers and she responded eagerly. Hungrily. Wanting him. All of him.
Don’t do this, Shannon, this man is trouble, her mind screamed. He brings with him death and darkness.
But she ignored the warnings, gave in to the pure animal sensuality of the moment.
His hands were big and calloused. Experienced. They splayed against the curve of her spine, fingers pressing anxiously into the dimples over her buttocks.
Oh, God, she ached for him. Yearned for him. Trembled with need. Perspired as his lips created a warm, wet path, sensuously sliding along her cheek, under her chin, down her neck, and his tongue pressed into the shallow circle of bones at the base of her throat.
“You want me,” he said and the forest seemed to quiet. His voice was deep, resonant. She could feel it vibrate inside her body. One hand found her breast, toyed with a nipple. “You want me.”
She swallowed hard, looked up at him.
“Say it.”
She tried to speak, but her voice failed her.
“Say it.”
Those magical fingers rubbed her areola more intimately, almost roughly.
The frogs had stopped croaking.
He leaned down and kissed her breast. She bucked upward and he pulled her tighter to him, bowing her back. She clung to him, knew there was no going back. She wanted him. Desperately. Despite the little nag inside her head that said this was wrong.
Dangerous.
Deadly.
And above, a tiny crackle on the forest floor, the thin smell of smoke.
“Say it,” he ordered.
“I…I want you,” she forced out, her breath hot and still in her lungs.
The crickets no longer chirped.
Stop now, while
you still can, her mind insisted in the silence.
Deep within she ached, imagined what it would feel like to have him inside her.
It had been so long…so damned long.