Raising Hell by Julie Kenner Page A

and out in a manner that hinted of similar attention to come just a bit farther to the south.
    And oh, how she wanted that attention. Her back arched, and she bucked up in silent demand. Her body was on fire and right then, only Nick could quench it. Damn it all, though, the heathen was doing nothing more than tossing thimblefuls of water onto the inferno that raged in her. Dousing small bits of need, maybe, but sending up clouds of steam that sizzled and popped and seemed only to give the fire that much more room to grow.
    “Nick,” she moaned, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Now.”
    He just lifted his head and smiled. A slow, sultry smile that made perfectly clear that this was his show, and that he wasn’t going to move any faster than absolutely necessary.
    She only hoped she didn’t die before he thought it necessary.
    His body was tucked between her legs, as his mouth caressed her belly and his hands stroked her thighs. Shameless, she writhed against him, trying to get some friction between her legs to quench the red-hot need she felt there.
    “Soon,” he said, as he slipped down lower and took her jeans with him.
    He tugged her jeans off and tossed them onto the floor, then moved back up her body, this time trailing kisses up the inside of her legs. He paused only briefly to lick the inside of her knee, and the sensation was so wholly erotic that Lila’s entire body shook from the unbridled pleasure … and from the anticipation.
    She held her breath, her body so tense and taut that she expected to snap in two at any moment. Nick took no mercy on her, though. He trailed soft kisses down the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, his strong hands holding her down as her body bucked and trembled.
    And then—when she swore she’d die if she didn’t find release—he stroked his finger against her slick, wet heat, slipping inside her with firm, even strokes. Her body spasmed, closing around his fingers, wanting to pull him inside her and yet still wanting more.
    He gave it to her. With his finger still stroking inside her, he bent low and sent a whisper of breath to cool the heat between her legs. She whimpered, then nearly bit her lip when she felt his tongue caress her clit.
    That was all it took. He’d wound her so tight that that one, tiny touch drove her over the edge. He held on, sucking and nipping, as she cried out with a pleasure so intense it could be mistaken for pain. She bucked and twisted, unable to stand it, desperate to get away now and at the same time never wanting it to end. It did end, though, and when her body finally went limp, he was right there beside her, his arms strong around her waist, pulling her close until he was kissing her, the taste of her sex still on his lips.
    His hand crept down between them, and he stroked her. Her body fired in response, her limp, sleepy limbs coming alive with a passion that had been hiding only too close to the surface.
    He’d taken her to wonderful, erotic places. Hell, he’d just taken her. And now, she thought, she wanted to return the favor. Reaching down, she stroked him, her hand not quite able to close around him as she slid up and down over the velvety shaft. “It’s your turn now,” she whispered.
    “Yes,” he said, the heat in his eyes undeniable. “It is.”
    Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on. Even the countess he’d met in Venice three centuries ago hadn’t sent him spiraling so out of control. His hands roamed her body and her thrilled moans and excited whimpers fired his blood. He’d been with countless women, but none with such a mixture of fire and innocence. The combination was seductive; it had sure as hell seduced him, even as he’d been seducing her.
    He kissed her, wanting nothing more than to consume her, to take her body the way he would take her soul. To make her his.
    Desperately, he nipped and suckled, losing himself to everything except the goal of pleasing her and his body’s