Wild, Tethered, Bound by Stephanie Draven Page B

“ Dessa ,” he whispered, and when she startled awake, he held her fast. It was all he could trust himself to do.
    “Lieutenant!” She laughed a sound of pure joy as she tried to pry his hand from her eyes. “Let me see you.”
    “Not yet.” His mouth found the base of her throat where her pulse pounded wildly beneath his lips. “Don’t open your eyes,” he murmured. “Don’t look, don’t talk, don’t touch, just…let me…”
    He felt her nod against his palm, and when he took his hand away, Dessa’s eyelashes quivered but did not fly wide. His lips drifted up her neck and across her jawline until he found her moist, half-parted lips. Then he kissed her.
    And it brought him to the edge of oblivion.
    Tongues tangled, teeth clashed, lips locked. The heat of it scorched the air from his lungs and some part of him was sure he’d never be able to breathe again.
    But she breathed—in great shaking gasps. She was no figment, no illusion he had invented to heal his shattered mind. She was real, a brazen force of nature, sure of her desires. She reached for him as assertively as she ever had and he caught her wrist, this time gently. He kissed her palm before pressing it against the base of the wild olive tree. “Dessa, keep your hands still, like you were tethered.”
    “Why?” she asked, a breathy whisper.
    “So I can have my way with you.”
    She smiled, as if it were playful mischief, but he was deadly earnest. This time he’d do it right. She wouldn’t have to ask nicely , or ask at all. There’d be no question that he was the one in need. And he did need her.
    His self-control nearly snapped to see that she was already half-naked and open to him. Her gown had ridden up her thighs. He wanted to bunch it in his fists and rip it away so he could touch her. But instead, he worked the laces down the back, exposing her inch by inch. He stroked between her shoulder blades, down her spine, and everywhere his hands touched, his lips followed until he couldn’t tell if the hot rush he felt was sunlight or the warmth of her bare skin.
    He kissed her thighs, adoring her—worshipping her. She kept her arms stretched over her head, as if he had tied them to the tree, and when his fingers slipped inside her, she shuddered. She rocked against his hand without pretense, her expression twisted with lust.
    He cursed under his breath and pressed his erection against her hip so she could feel what she was doing to him. All his secrets lingered beneath her skin, and he wanted to be closer, flesh to flesh. He couldn’t undress quickly enough. He yanked at his zippers and popped buttons from their holes until he was as naked as she was.
    Then he covered her with his body and felt her legs spread beneath him. When he entered her, she was wet and syrup-sticky inside so that the pleasure throbbed all the way to the base of his cock. But that wasn’t what nearly sent him over the edge. It was the way her knuckles whitened, as if the tree-roots in her clenched fists were the weathered headboard of her ancient bed.
    He pushed deeper and buried his face in her hair. She still smelled like musk and lavender and it made him crazy. He had only one mouth to taste her, and only two hands to touch her. He couldn’t penetrate her everyplace at once anymore, but somehow this sex was more intense.
    It was hard to hold himself back. He stilled, his breath ragged, and the whole world seemed to stop. Only a trickle of sweat moved between their two bodies. Then Dessa whimpered and pressed eagerly against his pelvis.
    Her movements made pleasure jolt up his spine and Nick clutched at her hips. “Don’t—er, don’t do that, if you want it to last.”
    But if she realized how tortured he was, she only smiled and asked, “Aren’t you a gambling man? Let’s take our chances.”
    He laughed and it steadied him.
    It was as if she understood all the rules had changed; her eyelashes fluttered open, revealing a flash of brilliant blue, like the