provided.
She quietly approached the cot, her gaze roaming his broad, muscled body. She stepped to the end of the bed and slowly pulled down his covers, baring him to her hungry gaze.
He lay on his back, his legs splayed. Perfect.
She almost wished she had manacles to ease around his wrists, just as in the first days of their captivity back in Ardeal , before they’d escaped twenty-first century New Orleans to this isolated, medieval Scottish monastery. She’d have preferred to torment him, without any resistance. Still, she didn’t think he’d be able to deny her if she started in the right place.
She climbed onto the mattress, careful not to jostle him, and leaned over his cock, which lay curled against his thigh.
When she lifted it gently, he murmured, his hand sliding once up and down his chest. When she opened her mouth and took him inside, his eyes shot open.
Seeing her, his jaw firmed in denial, but she wasn’t going to allow him a choice this time. She reached inside herself forthe curling heat deep in her womb, visualized it unfurling, radiating a fragrance that wafted the air to encircle him.
His breath caught; his body tightened. His hands fisted at his sides, but he didn’t reach down to push her away. “Natalie,” he groaned.
She knew she could arouse him—his expanding erection told her that. Why did he fight feeling more? Wasn’t he falling in love the same way she was? Or was she in this alone? Did he still have feelings for his partner on the police force, whom they’d left behind in New Orleans seven hundred years in the future?
“Did you feed, chère ?” he growled. He was always so careful to ask—which meant he wasn’t ready to offer up a vein.
She stifled her disappointment and nodded, not releasing him, instead slipping one hand between his legs to caress his balls and encircling the base of his cock with the other.
His eyes closed for a moment. His chest rose sharply, then he reached down and cupped the back of her head, encouraging her to take him deeper into her mouth.
Natalie inhaled, taking in his rich, musky scent, and sank over him, laving his shaft with her tongue as she slid down then up. He needed her now—needed the release she could give him. Being the only woman among forty men leant a certain advantage.
She continued to move up and down, suctioning hard, loving the way his body tensed and his hips stroked helplessly upward.
Suddenly his fingers threaded through her hair and tugged, drawing her off him.
Feeling a little disoriented, so deep was her own arousal, she let him bring her to the mattress as he rolled to his sideto make room. She reached for him, but his jaw flexed and he rolled her again, this time to her stomach, and straddled her hips, trapping her beneath him.
She moaned and blinked back tears, not wanting him to know how his continued rejection hurt.
“Is this too uncomfortable?”
Her belly was barely rounded with her pregnancy. She could lie and he’d let her face him, but she shook her head.
His large hands cupped her shoulders, his thumbs kneading into muscle.
She took a deep breath and attempted to open a conversation. “That feels good.”
His fingers traced the shallow indentions between her shoulder blades. “Did you enjoy your flight tonight?”
“I think I’m getting the knack of it.”
His hands stilled on her back. “You know it’s not that I don’t care, Natalie.”
You just don’t love me. She nodded and laid her forehead on her folded arms.
“I have so much to learn here,” he said, with the Cajun accent that never failed to make her toes curl. “I don’t want to lose daylight hours for my trainin’.”
“I understand.” This time she did lie.
Didn’t he know he’d gain the strength of ten men as soon as he transformed? All he had to do was die for her—like he’d promised when they stepped through the portal from one world into this one.
If she’d known he’d get cold feet, she might have taken
She quietly approached the cot, her gaze roaming his broad, muscled body. She stepped to the end of the bed and slowly pulled down his covers, baring him to her hungry gaze.
He lay on his back, his legs splayed. Perfect.
She almost wished she had manacles to ease around his wrists, just as in the first days of their captivity back in Ardeal , before they’d escaped twenty-first century New Orleans to this isolated, medieval Scottish monastery. She’d have preferred to torment him, without any resistance. Still, she didn’t think he’d be able to deny her if she started in the right place.
She climbed onto the mattress, careful not to jostle him, and leaned over his cock, which lay curled against his thigh.
When she lifted it gently, he murmured, his hand sliding once up and down his chest. When she opened her mouth and took him inside, his eyes shot open.
Seeing her, his jaw firmed in denial, but she wasn’t going to allow him a choice this time. She reached inside herself forthe curling heat deep in her womb, visualized it unfurling, radiating a fragrance that wafted the air to encircle him.
His breath caught; his body tightened. His hands fisted at his sides, but he didn’t reach down to push her away. “Natalie,” he groaned.
She knew she could arouse him—his expanding erection told her that. Why did he fight feeling more? Wasn’t he falling in love the same way she was? Or was she in this alone? Did he still have feelings for his partner on the police force, whom they’d left behind in New Orleans seven hundred years in the future?
“Did you feed, chère ?” he growled. He was always so careful to ask—which meant he wasn’t ready to offer up a vein.
She stifled her disappointment and nodded, not releasing him, instead slipping one hand between his legs to caress his balls and encircling the base of his cock with the other.
His eyes closed for a moment. His chest rose sharply, then he reached down and cupped the back of her head, encouraging her to take him deeper into her mouth.
Natalie inhaled, taking in his rich, musky scent, and sank over him, laving his shaft with her tongue as she slid down then up. He needed her now—needed the release she could give him. Being the only woman among forty men leant a certain advantage.
She continued to move up and down, suctioning hard, loving the way his body tensed and his hips stroked helplessly upward.
Suddenly his fingers threaded through her hair and tugged, drawing her off him.
Feeling a little disoriented, so deep was her own arousal, she let him bring her to the mattress as he rolled to his sideto make room. She reached for him, but his jaw flexed and he rolled her again, this time to her stomach, and straddled her hips, trapping her beneath him.
She moaned and blinked back tears, not wanting him to know how his continued rejection hurt.
“Is this too uncomfortable?”
Her belly was barely rounded with her pregnancy. She could lie and he’d let her face him, but she shook her head.
His large hands cupped her shoulders, his thumbs kneading into muscle.
She took a deep breath and attempted to open a conversation. “That feels good.”
His fingers traced the shallow indentions between her shoulder blades. “Did you enjoy your flight tonight?”
“I think I’m getting the knack of it.”
His hands stilled on her back. “You know it’s not that I don’t care, Natalie.”
You just don’t love me. She nodded and laid her forehead on her folded arms.
“I have so much to learn here,” he said, with the Cajun accent that never failed to make her toes curl. “I don’t want to lose daylight hours for my trainin’.”
“I understand.” This time she did lie.
Didn’t he know he’d gain the strength of ten men as soon as he transformed? All he had to do was die for her—like he’d promised when they stepped through the portal from one world into this one.
If she’d known he’d get cold feet, she might have taken
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