Heart of Iron
Page 36

Will lowered the jug, his gaze dropping to the glass. “Bloody hell, Lena.” He leaped out of bed, moving with the same economical grace that always drew her eye.
An excess of golden skin. Naked skin. Lena’s eyes widened. She had a second’s grace to drop her gaze before he swore and jerked the sheet around his waist, tucking the edge in.
Oh my goodness.
Anatomy books could not even come close to picturing the truth. The heat flushed out of her face. She’d caught only a glimpse of his member, half aroused and enormous, bobbing from the thick thatch of dark hair that nested it. The breath caught in her throat. There was no possible way they could fit together…
“Here,” Will snarled, taking the remains of the glass from her and tearing a piece off the sheet. He dipped it in the water jug and wrung it out, then dabbed tenderly at the cut on her hand. “What happened?”
“It cracked in my hand,” Lena said distantly. A shiver of need swept through her, igniting desires she’d kept under lock and key in her heart.
Will hesitated.
“What is it?”
“There’s a piece of glass in there.” A frown drew his eyebrows together. “Lena, can you not feel that?” A shivering stroke over something in her hand.
She looked away from the broad, naked expanse of his chest and saw the piece of glass sticking out of her hand. As soon as she saw it she felt the acid bite of pain and bit her lip. “A little. It doesn’t hurt very much.”
“Lena, look at me.”
Into whiskey warm eyes with their impossibly thick lashes. She leaned forward, resting her free hand against his chest, feeling the delicious slide of silky-soft skin beneath her fingertips.
Will sucked in a breath. Then his gaze dropped and pain throbbed through her hand. “Got it,” he said. Dabbing at the cut, he examined it for any sign of glass and then tied another strip of sheet around it firmly.
The scent of him, warm and musky, wrapped around her senses. As soon as he let her hand go, she placed it against his stomach, feeling the flinch beneath her fingertips.
“Lena,” he warned, in a husky voice. The heat in his eyes contradicted his tone. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” she whispered, sliding the backs of her knuckles down his rippled abdomen. “You want to. I want to.” Tears pricked at her eyes and suddenly her throat was thick. “I thought that I’d lost you. That you were gone. Forever.” One hot, salty tear slid down her cheek. She shook her head and looked up fiercely. “Nothing else matters.” A deep breath, her heart pattering madly in her chest. She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, but that didn’t matter. “I was so scared that I would never have a chance to touch you. To kiss you again. To tell you…”
“Tell me what?” He caught her wrists, thrust them behind her.
Her nipples abraded the linen nightgown. She stared up at him, at the fierce expression on his face. Flickers of warming amber lit his eyes. That was what she wanted to stir. The uncontrollable passion in him. The need. She leaned closer, let her breasts rub against his skin. Sensation shot through her abdomen, clenching white-hot between her thighs.
“Tell me what?” he repeated, more of the amber drowning out the brown of his eyes.
Lena leaned forward and kissed his chest. Will shuddered, his grip on her wrists loosening. “How much I miss you,” she whispered. “I played games with you, Will, because I was afraid if I were serious, and you weren’t…that I’d…I wanted you to kiss me. I tried to drive you to it, but you would never dare. I thought you didn’t want me and it hurt so badly, because I wanted you.”
Another shudder of conflicting need within him. He shook his head, his lips parting. “I can’t.” But his hands were easing on her wrists and suddenly it was easy to slip from his grasp.
She slid her hands over his chest and stepped closer. Will backed away, his knees hitting the back of the bed. He tumbled onto the bed, his fist clenching in the blankets. The sheet around his hips threatened to dislodge. Lena knelt on the edge of the bed, slinging her leg over his hips.
His muscles clenched. “Lena, you don’t understand.”
“Do you want me or not?” A breathless moment as she waited for the answer.
“Of course I do, but—”
She pressed a finger against his lips. The nightgown rode up around her thighs, the lacy edge trailing over her sensitive calves. Licking her lips, she relaxed down onto his lap, gasping at the feel of his rigid member against her wet heat.
So sensitive there. So sweet the feeling. She threw her head back and arched her hips, grinding herself against him.
Fingers clenched in her bottom, almost painfully tight. He urged her against him again and Lena cried out as need tightened within her.
The sheet was trapped between them. She could feel her own body wetting it, the rasp of the linen against the sensitive nub that drove her insane. Suddenly it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Needed more. Sinking her hands into his hair, she fisted it and dragged his mouth up to hers.
Will bit at her lip, suckling it into his mouth. Their tongues clashed and she pressed herself against him, rubbing her breasts, her hips, her quim against his hard body. The taste of his mouth was intoxicating.
The sheet drove her crazy. She slid a hand between them and tugged at the length he’d tucked into the waist of it. Too late he realized her intentions and caught her wrist. Lena held onto the end, feeling it unravel beneath her. She ground her hips against his and this time it was flesh that met hers. Hard, swollen flesh.
“Can’t.”
She kissed him, not daring to let him go. His cock surged, huge and potent against her and she wet it with her own body, riding along the edge of it. Will made a strangled sound in his throat, his hands digging into her thighs and his eyes glazing. The head of his cock brushed against her, a stretching sensation—
Lena’s mouth fell open. Will caught her by the hips and then the pain and stretching was gone and he slammed her back against the bed, hovering over her with a strained growl. His hands pinned her wrists to the bed.
“No.” Breathing hard, his back heaving with the strain of it, he looked up and met her gaze. Amber burned desperately.
“You want to.”
“I want to,” he admitted. Something flashed through his eyes, a sadness that made her heart clench. “I can’t, Lena. I promised I’d protect you. Even from myself.”
“I trust you,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”
He clenched his eyes shut. “Lena, have you never thought of how the loupe is spread?”
She opened her mouth then froze. Not once had she considered it. “I don’t know very much about it.” Few people did. Nobody in the Echelon spoke of it. “The craving is spread by blood.”
“So is the loupe.” His body softened on hers, hips driving her into the bed, need a hard edge in his golden eyes. “And also through a man’s seed. Why d’you think I ain’t been with a woman?”
Another stunning revelation. “Ever?” she whispered in surprise.
He shook his head, eyes darkening. “Never.”
Some fierce sense of possession burned within her. “I didn’t know. I thought—” Her mind raced. Not once could she recall seeing him with a woman. She’d never thought of it before, preferring to assume he kept his assignations quiet.
Will’s grip eased and he knelt over her, hands on his thighs. His cock bobbed against his stomach, but the dejection in his shoulders told her everything she needed to know. Grabbing the remains of the sheet, he wrapped it around his hips.
“Unless a woman had the loupe already. I couldn’t.”
Lena shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Just when she had finally admitted to herself the depth of her feelings for him… “Perhaps…” She licked dry lips. “I wouldn’t mind. If we could be together—”
“No!” His expression hardened. “You don’t know what you’re askin’. I’ve been cut and beaten and even half gutted before, and they’re nothin’—nothin’—compared to the agony of the loupe when it first hits you. Not everybody survives, Lena.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t do that. Not to you.”
Tears blurred her vision. The tenuous future she’d begun dreaming of was washed away with the maelstrom of his words.
“Lena,” he whispered. A gentle hand brushed the back of her cheek. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not,” she replied, trying to dry her eyes on her sleeves. Somehow she summoned a weak smile. It faltered. “Yesterday I thought you were dead. I said I’d do anything to have you back, to have you safe—” The words broke. She couldn’t say anymore. Sobs overtook her.
Sheets rustled and then Will dragged her against him. “I never meant to hurt you.” He murmured. “I tried to stay away from you.”
She nodded, shakily drawing in a breath. “I can see that now.” All of the times she’d thought he didn’t care for her and he’d only been trying to stop this before it got too far.
He kissed her cheek, his lips wet with her tears. Then her jaw. Her lips. Lena turned her face to his hungrily, wrapping her body hard against him. They kissed desperately, clinging to each other and she almost broke down again, knowing that this was the last time she could ever do this.
Her fingers twined in the silky strands of his hair. Will dragged her closer against him, his cock an emphatic presence against her thigh. His mouth trailed lower, nipping at her chin, then her neck, his tongue tracing the salty rime of her tears.
The shock of his hand against her breast made her suck in a breath. “Will?”
“Just this. Just once.” The other hand slid her nightgown higher, his forearm cradling the curve of her bare bottom.
Heat flushed through her. There was never any intention of saying no. If this was all she could have of him… “What are you going to do?”
Will eased her back onto the bed and knelt over her. The rasp of his stubble against her throat arched her off the bed and she dug her nails into his shoulders. “I’ve thought of this… Dreamed of this.” Teeth grazed the vulnerable column of her throat, a teasing bite that threatened and tempted both. “I want to taste you.”
She shivered with longing. He was asking for her surrender. She gave it completely. “Do it.”
His lips soothed the ache of the bite. Hands sliding over her nightgown with feverish need, he caught the hem of it and shoved it up.
Cool air stirred against her naked flesh. Lena lifted her hips and shoulders off the bed, letting him remove it. Will tossed the nightgown aside, never taking his eyes off her. They burned like a blacksmith’s forge, the heat blistering her soul.
Uncertainty beating in her breast, she lowered her hands against her sides. Her breath lifted her breasts, drawing his gaze to them. Her nipples hardened and she let her gaze rove his face, searching for something, anything.
His expression softened. Still fierce in his desire, the odd hint of longing shaped his mouth. “You’re beautiful.” Gently he traced her collarbone, his fingers tickling over her skin. They raked lower, drawing gentle concentric circles around her left breast. “Perfect.”
“Too small,” she whispered.
He leaned against her side, one leg thrown over hers. Capturing her gaze, he slid his rough palm over her breast, cupping it. “Perfect,” he growled and lowered his head.
Lips traced the smooth curve of her flesh. She gasped as teeth found her nipple and bit it gently. The hand on her breast slid lower, skating across her quivering stomach. So much sensation. She could barely contain it, especially when his hand delved between her thighs.
A new world. She felt remarkably gauche, untutored. She knew nothing of this, of pleasure. Theory had nothing on practice. Will’s fingers found her and she threw her head back, gasping, against the sheets.
“Take your hair out,” he whispered, one finger tracing small circles against the wet bud between her thighs.
She could barely move, trapped by the sensation of his hand. “I can’t,” she gasped, her hips quivering.
Movement ceased. He pressed the heel of his palm against her mound. “Take it out.”
Demand filled his voice. Lena lifted her arms over her head and started working on her braid. Her hair tumbled over the sheets in loose waves, thick and dark. Will’s expression grew lazy, heavy-lidded. He lowered his mouth to her nipple and suckled it. “That’s better.”
The coil in her stomach grew. She slid her hands over his shoulders, learning the smooth muscle of his flesh. Then through his hair, fisting in the length of it, unable to string coherent thought or sound together as his lips played with her breast.