Ecstasy in Darkness (Page 17)

Ecstasy in Darkness (Alien Huntress #5)(17)
Author: Gena Showalter

More.

Her hands fisted his hair, ripping several strands free, but not to stop him—to urge him on. He knew because her tongue continued that devastating roll, more insistent now, purrs humming from her throat. Her hips moved in sync with her tongue, mimicking sex, rubbing against him, control fading. He needed to open her pants and delve into her panties. He needed to feel how wet she was. Needed to sink one, two, three fingers into that tight little sheath.

“McKell,” she gasped out.

“More,” was all he could think to say. But any more, and he would pull from the kiss, sink his fangs into her neck, and drain her. He knew he would. Already an intense hunger beat through him, growing, propelling him to act as instinct demanded. As survival demanded.

“Yes, please.” Unaware of the animal she provoked, she rubbed him faster and faster, reducing him to that creature of sensation. Only sensation.

Instinct … food …

No. If he drained her, he wouldn’t be able to kiss her again. And he desperately needed her kisses. Her touch. His c**k ached unbearably, rising past the waist of his pants, seeking every bit of contact, any contact. Damn their clothing. He wanted to penetrate. Needed to penetrate with the same intensity he needed the kiss, the blood. And he wanted to—the core of her rubbed against him again, from base to tip, and his thoughts fragmented. He found himself lifting, grinding against her, shoving her harder, their clothing no longer a concern. Just a little more and he would … come, he realized with shock. He would come in his pants like an untrained youth.

And when he came, he really would drain her, instinct taking over completely. In his weakened condition, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

McKell gripped her hips, stilling her this time. He was panting, sweating, shaking. Frantic … starving … Oh, yes, starving.

Control. He had to gain control.

Didn’t help when Ava licked the moisture from her mouth, savoring the taste he’d left behind. “Why’d you stop?” she asked, and she sounded drugged. Her eyes were glassy, like liquid amber, and her lips a well-sated scarlet.

“For the best.” Never had his voice echoed with such menace. For himself. He should have been eager to drain her. Resisting merely proved the true depths of his foolishness.

“Whose best?” she asked, nuzzling his cheek with her own.

She was going to kill him. And herself. “Yours,” he gritted out

“‘Cause you just snuck a taste of my blood and are trolling for more?” Slowly she straightened and ran her hands up and down his arms. She grinned a wicked grin. “God, your muscles are huge.”

And he’d thought her kiss torture. Her caress … like heaven and hell wrapped in silk, sprinkled with velvet, then bespelled with an irresistible mist. He grabbed her wrists as he’d done earlier and squeezed. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’ll sneak a whole lot more than you’re willing to give.”

Her gaze met his, all soft and luminous. “So you liked it?” Another purr as she pulled from his grip and toyed with his necklace.

Do not answer that. Don’t you dare answer that.

Her grin returned. “Tsk, tsk, McKell. You should know it’s rude to ignore your host.”

Change the subject. Save yourself, her. “It’s also rude to stab your host.” There. Better. Except, the reminder failed to enrage him. She’d gotten the better of him, which meant she was strong, capable, and that suddenly filled him with … pride.

Pride? Why?

All that lovely amusement faded. “Here’s another tidbit. It’s also rude to remind your host of the time she stabbed you.”

Irreverent baggage. And stupid, stupid increased pride. He liked her wit.

“Were you distracting me so that you could stab me?” she rasped, arching into him. The very idea should have sent her running from him. Yet still she remained completely unconcerned.

Either she was confident in her ability to protect herself or confident in his in ability to hurt her. Either way, his sense of pride increased again. The heart of a warrior beat in her chest.

Stupid, stupid, stupid of him to crave her.

“Ava.” He needed something to do with his hands, and so he once again latched onto her hips. He squeezed so tightly he knew bruises would form, if they hadn’t already, but better to mark her that way than the other. “Stop moving on me.”

“McKell. Answer my question. Please.”

Had he liked her blood? “What if I did?” He wouldn’t admit to the helpless need to possess her. The need to have her curves under him—over him. The need to have her touching, tasting, giving, taking. Oh, taking. Taking more than anyone else ever had. “What would you do if I decided to have you?” He hadn’t meant the words as a challenge, but that’s how they emerged.

She licked her lips. “Stop you, of course.” But she didn’t sound confident.

He chuckled. Then frowned. Beyond stupid, that’s what he was. “I think you’ve changed your mind about me.” How many times had she told Noelle she didn’t want him? Countless. And usually a human’s disregard wouldn’t have bothered him. Humans were beneath him, after all, but he couldn’t walk away from this one. As evidenced by his actions today.

“What do you mean?” she asked, settling her weight on her haunches. Away from his erection.

“Before, you weren’t willing to do a load of laundry to be with me. Now, I think you would.”

She arched a brow. “Hurt your feelings when I said that, did I?”

“No!” The denial echoed from the walls, and his cheeks heated at his own vehemence. “No,” he stated more calmly. “I have no feelings. I was simply repeating something you said.”

She grinned, and the return of her amusement lit her beautiful face. Again, most people ran from him in terror when he displayed the slightest hint of displeasure. Those who didn’t soon wished they had. And really, this one had more reason than most to fear him. Yet she remained on his lap, as calm as ever.

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she traced a fingertip down his sternum. “Well, to be fair, I hadn’t kissed you then, so I had no idea what I was giving up.”

Another hint for him to get back to kissing her?

Slaying … him. “The bargain has been sealed,” he said. Before she could tempt her further, he did what he should have done minutes ago: unceremoniously dumped her onto the floor.

Severing the contact failed to calm him, though. His body still ached, and his teeth still throbbed for another taste.