Midnight Untamed (Midnight Breed 14.5)

“Bella,” he uttered tightly, “you have to tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“No.” She shook her head, even as tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, God…it feels so good. I thought I remembered, but this…”

“I know, baby.” He started to move within her, rocking slowly at first, each stroke taking him deeper, pushing further inside her, until she wasn’t sure where he ended and she began.

“Ah, love,” he murmured. “Your body is so tight around me. So damned perfect. I can’t—”

e did that for her. She had always felt safe when she was with him. The guns and blades bristling from the belt that circled his waist had nothing to do with how protected he made her feel. It was him, the man, who had always been able to put her at ease.

As much as he aroused her.

Her skin still felt too warm, too tight, as they paused together at the chamber’s open doorway. Everything they’d said in the truck, the stolen caresses they’d shared in those brief moments of semiprivacy earlier tonight, now hung between them like a wound that needed tending.

Ettore seemed to feel the same awareness that she did. The heat radiating from him was palpable, his touch at the small of her back light, yet searing. She wanted to feel his hands on her everywhere, not just in comfort or reassurance, but in passion.

He cursed as his eyes met hers, his hazel irises dark but glittering with flecks of amber. “For God’s sake, don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. I’m hanging by a thread here.”

“I am too.” She couldn’t resist reaching up to him, letting her hands skim the firm muscles of his chest. “I’ve been hanging by a thread since you showed up at our vineyard with my brother all those years ago, Ettore.”

His heart was thundering. His pulse slammed against her palm, hammering like a drum. He searched her gaze for a long moment, his breath rolling in deep, panting gusts.

The curse that boiled out of him was sharp, hissed between his teeth and fangs. “I wasn’t expecting any of this. My first duty is to the Order. I have a mission to carry out. Until I’m certain I’ve completed it, I shouldn’t be thinking about anything else. Not even you. Hell, especially not you.”

“Of course. I understand.” She glanced away, weathering a sting she hadn’t seen coming. “Ettore, I didn’t mean to suggest—”

He took her hand and hauled her against him, silencing her with a kiss. When he drew back from her lips, his gaze had gone molten. “I have no right to be thinking about anything but my duty to the Order. That’s what I keep telling myself, Arabella. But then I look at you and none of those other things matter.”

She swallowed, watching the fire dance in his eyes. His pupils were narrowed to thin black slits, and his fangs surged even larger behind his parted lips. The sight of his transformation sped her pulse, while at her hip, the hard steel of his arousal sent a current of hot need licking through her senses and straight into her core.

“I walked away once,” he snarled. “God help us both, I don’t think I can ever do it again.”

His name was a jagged sigh on her lips as he grasped her face in his palms and covered her mouth with his once more. Kissing her so deeply she could hardly find her breath, he walked her backward into the chamber with him, kicking the door closed behind them with his boot heel.

Something wild had been unleashed in him. She saw it in his eyes, heard it in the rough scrape of his voice. And now all of that unhinged desire was pouring into her through his kiss.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against her mouth. Her moan of confirmation evidently wasn’t enough. “Say it, Arabella. Let me hear it.”

“Yes.” Oh, God. She could hardly hold the desire that chased through her. Every hot sweep of his lips over hers, every carnal thrust of his tongue, inflamed a need in her that was swiftly burning out of control. “Please, Ettore. I need you. I need to feel you inside me.”

His answer was an animalistic, purely possessive snarl. Pressing her down onto the narrow bed, he stripped away her clothing then quickly removed his own. Part of her wanted him to take things slowly—give her time to savor every nuance of the rock-hard, beautifully formed body she still saw so often in her most fevered dreams.

But the desire they had for each other had been denied for too long.

Too much precious time had been stolen from them already.

She was desperate for him. More than anything, she needed to feel his skin against hers and know that this was no dream now. That he was real. That he was hers again.

Always, she amended silently, allowing the wish to live in her heart as he settled himself atop her.

His eyes blazed as he watched her, his hand moving between their bodies to tease and stroke her sex. His fingers slid through her juices, a groan ripping out of him as he cleaved her folds and found the slick entrance to her body.

“You’re already wet for me,” he murmured, a grin tilting the edges of his wicked mouth. “Damn, you’re soft, Bella. So beautiful. So fucking hot.”

She couldn’t bite back her whimper of pleasure, both at his praise and at the intensity of her arousal for him. He teased her sensitive flesh, taking her mouth in another deep, soul-searing kiss. She felt him test her tightness with his fingers, starting with one, then adding another, his thumb working a profane magic on her clit.

There had been no one since him, and the euphoria of being naked with him now, in his arms after so much longing, was too much to bear. Her orgasm rushed up on her unexpectedly, far too wild to hold back. She clutched his shoulders as her cry tore out of her throat. Arching off the mattress, she rode the wave to its crest, grinding shamelessly against his hand as the bliss poured over her.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he coaxed her as he continued to pleasure her with his fingers. “I’ve waited too long to see this look on your face again. I swear, Bella, you’ve only gotten more exquisite.”