Dreams of a Dark Warrior (Immortals After Dark #11)(82)
Author: Kresley Cole

When she clamped his head to draw him closer, he almost spil ed on the ground. As he licked in bliss, his spine tingled, his heavy bal ocks tightening. He commanded himself not to come as he wrung every shiver from her, every last cry.

He broke away only when she pushed against his forehead. When he rasped his stubbled cheeks against her thighs, she trembled anew.

For long moments, she stared up at the sky. Then she propped herself up on her elbows, meeting his gaze, her expression utterly inscrutable.

"Regin? Say something. I do no’ like it when you’re quiet."

Chase had pulled a fast one on her. Zing! This had all been a careful y crafted and executed plan. Get the volatile Valkyrie so pissed, she loses control.

And according to plan, she was now naked, on a bed of grass, with Declan Chase between her thighs.

The playah got played. She’d been … predictable. Everything had burned out of control.

And was threatening to again. When his gaze dropped from her face back between her legs and he tightened his arms around her thighs, she said, "Don’t even think about it."

With a darkening expression, he rose up on his knees, looking as if she’d just taken away his new favorite toy. His body was taut as a bowstring, his muscles rippling, his shaft jutting with need.

"What the hel , Chase? What was this?" He’d used her own personality against her, and she’d fallen right into his trap. She should throw him a curvebal . She should tease him, get him within a heartbeat of coming, then strut off, leaving him with a view of her sweet ass.

I’m going to femme fatale him! Like her sisters would. Oh, yeah, the playah’s back in the house-

"Should be obvious what this was, no? If you’re still confused, I can draw you a diagram."

Her eyes went wide, her hand fisting in the mud beside her bed of grass.

"Hint: slot B is delicious-"

Splat. Without thought, she’d thrown mud all over his face. So much for femme fatale.

He sputtered in disbelief, then roared, "What the ever-livin’ feck-"

Splat, splat. Muck covered his torso. And gods help her, his reaction almost had her cackling.

"That’s how you want to play?" He snagged her ankle, dragging her closer to smear a handful of mud across her thighs. Though she scrambled to get away, he coated her bel y with a generous swipe, then tossed a glob over her br**sts.

"Dick!" She beaned one of his legs with another salvo, bringing the heat.

He released her to scoop up mounds of ammunition in both hands. In an ominous tone, he said, "Regin, there’re two ways we can do this-"

Splat. Tagged his other thigh. Which left only one place that she hadn’t hit. A big target.

He fol owed her gaze down. "Do no’ even think of it. You do it, and You’ll be cleanin’ me up."

Splat.

Chapter FORTY-FIVE

Declan gazed down at his mud-coated groin. "Little witch." He dropped his handfuls, then lunged for her, scooping her against his chest to head for the stream.

He swung her up and tossed her in, fol owing right behind her. She gasped, swiping hair out of her eyes as he dunked under and scrubbed the mud off his face.

"I warned you." He snagged her wrist and brought her palm to his chest, wiping away the streaks. "You made this mess, you clean it up."

She narrowed her eyes, no doubt to curse him, but his other hand on her breast silenced her. "I’ll be doin’ the same." He brushed his thumb over her nipple, and her lids went heavy. When he released her wrist and cupped both br**sts, she sucked in a breath.

A heartbeat passed, and another … "Damn you," she whispered. Then, of her own accord, she glided her soft hands over his chest. With each stroke she uncovered more skin. Scarred skin. But she didn’t shy away. In fact, once she’d cleaned away the mud, she traced some of the marks, her gaze fol owing her fingers.

I’d kill to know what she’s thinkin’.

With one hand, he began rubbing her bel y, cleaning her as promised. With his other, he smoothed mud from her thighs.

She reciprocated, reaching down and sweeping her palms up his legs. His knees went weak as her hands climbed higher.

"How was your plan supposed to end?" she murmured, her fingers grazing just below his aching ballocks. Would she touch him there?

"With me makin’ love to you." He began kneading her br**sts.

Even as she arched to his hands, she said, "That won’t happen."

"Then I’d cal it a win if I get to pleasure you again." He lightly pinched her sensitive ni**les, making her sway. "I want to be a good lover to you." Now that he’d discovered he could pleasure her, he wanted to excel, to be the best she’d ever had.

"And what about you?" She gripped his shaft with her palm, and he jolted upright. "Doesn’t this ache?"

Voice breaking low, he said, "Like the devil." A slow stroke had him groaning, "That feels so good."

"Just cleaning up the mess I made."

"You keep doin’ that, lass, and I’ll add to it."

She peered up at him with silvery eyes. "That’s a shame. ‘Cause I had plans for this." She gave him a squeeze.

If not to make love, then … His jaw slackened. She wants to go down on me?

Never had it been so important not to come. Gritting his teeth, he somehow kept his seed as she scrubbed him thoroughly.

Twice he almost spil ed it-when she ran her thumb in circles over his cockhead, and when she firmly grasped his bal ocks while she stroked. Before this night, he’d had no idea how much he would particularly enjoy the latter.

"There. all done," she said in a throaty voice. "I’ll bet it’s so clean I could eat off of it."

Brows drawn, he swal owed audibly. "One way to find out."

Stil holding him, she turned back toward the shore.

Regin had a mountain of a man na**d on a bed of grass, with her kneeling between his legs, her palm cupping his shaft. And she wasn’t feeling so much played as powerful.

We won’t do more than scratch an itch, she assured herself. Just as Natalya and Brandr had done.

With his accent thicker than she’d ever heard it, Chase said, "Leadin’ a man by his cock, lass?"

His husky voice made her shiver, her ni**les puckering even harder. She was melting for this wicked Celt. "That a problem?"

He shook his head gravely. "Can no’ think why that phrase has a negative connotation."

Never taking her eyes from his, she bent down and ran her tongue over the swol en tip.

He exhaled a ragged breath. "Almighty." A wet lick around the crown made him shudder.

He leaned up on his elbow to watch her, the muscles of his torso rippling. With his other hand, he brushed her hair back. "Want to see your beautiful face. Been waitin’ all my life to be with you like this."