Into His Command Page 7

  My cry exploded louder. I didn’t care if the villagers in Noir, on the lake’s opposite shore, heard me. His erection pounded against every needy part of me, rousing my hottest desire. Every inch of my intimate channel was soaked. If the dark spot in my workout pants wasn’t enough evidence, my pointed nipples and puckered areolas definitely were.

  He slanted over me again, shoulders curving in. Claimed my lips once more, twining breath and teeth with lust and heat. His lower body moved with mounting friction. My tunnel clenched even tighter for him. Ached for the ultimate fulfillment I needed from him. I’d never been with anyone else like this—and about half the guys at the Center had tried—knowing now that this was what I’d saved myself for. Who I’d saved myself for.

  “Astremé.” His grate vibrated against my lips.

  “Samsyn.”

  “You want it to burn?”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  A choppy breath tumbled from him. “But if I burn you…the way I long to…”

  “The way you need to.” I jerked up my face, spearing him with my stare. “The way I need you to.” Curled my fingertips against his hold, trying to score him with my nails—what there was of them. I was a child of the gym and the armory, not the salon and spa. “Dammit, Syn. If this night is all we get—all I get—”

  He cut me off with another kiss—but not before I watched my charge impact him like a mortar shell, detonating his resistance. Stubborn, beautiful ox.

  Beautiful was just the start.

  Watching his desire take over his nobility was like witnessing a wave form on the ocean. The visceral knowledge that deeper forces were at work. The awe of seeing them grow, expand, surge free. The mix of dread and exhilaration, acknowledging their danger—and acquiescing to it.

  He pulled up, though kept me tethered with his gaze. Whatever he saw in my eyes changed the tone of his, the cyan turning almost violet as his pupils flared. His lips worked against each other, as if he were suddenly starving. He slipped his hand free from my wrists, though his face conveyed the order not to move my hands. As if I’d even contemplate it. Even wanted to cut one moment of this magic short. Every second had to count…

  He lowered his hands to my hips. Pushed back far enough to drag away my pants, both legs at once. When they were at my knees, he rose and stepped aside, pulling the fabric down the rest of the way.

  He sucked a breath in.

  I gasped one out.

  He swung my legs over, stretching me along the window seat. Lowered his body the same way, tangling our legs as he twisted my hair and pushed his tongue into my mouth. We sucked at each other, hungry and fervent. We clutched at each other, urgent and lusting. Everywhere I touched, he undulated and coiled. His skin was hot, though exploded in shivers wherever my fingers glided. Though I’d just marveled at his power, he made me feel like an equal force, every contact of our skin making him swallow and clench.

  “Brooke.” He sent tingles down my neck with the feverish rasp. “By the fucking Creator, Brooke…”

  I clawed the back of his head, unwilling to let him up now. His stubble abraded my collarbone. His mouth suckled the dip just above it. “Tell me.” It pitched into a whimpering plea; once more I didn’t care. Was damn near grateful for the sound, vocalizing how deeply I craved him. “Say it, Samsyn. Tell me…please.”

  “I want this. I want you. Fuck…I shall damn near burst from it.”

  “Not until you’re buried inside me.” I was ready with a smile when he yanked his head up, stabbing a stunned stare in reaction. “Yes, that’s what I want too. What I’m bursting with too.” I caressed my hand along his scalp, tugging his hair in rhythmic little yanks. “I’m on birth control.” His widened eyes caused my subtle laugh. “A lot of female athletes are. Lots of exercise messes with hormones.”

  He grunted, clearly disconcerted about not knowing that. He didn’t hang on to the awkwardness for long, though. My nudity was certainly a helpful distraction. I smiled as he braced his weight on one hand, then slid down my body with the other. His eyes followed the path of his touch, watchful…worshipful.

  It astonished me.

  Thrilled me.

  Overjoyed me. Yes. So much joy…

  I’d always thought if this moment ever came, I’d wilt beneath his first scrutiny. My figure was built for utility, not sexuality. But every inch of me felt very sexual now. And beautiful. A woman come to life, awakened and invigorated by his long, exploratory strokes and adoring little squeezes. Syn didn’t miss an iota of my reaction, taking in all my nuances before he quietly spoke again.

  “But I am…your first?”

  He wanted to make it a statement instead of a question. I could see that—but was damn grateful he hadn’t. I needed to answer on my own. “I want you to be.”

  His eyes squeezed shut. His lips compressed. But he nodded, solemn and committed, bringing on the awkwardness anyway.

  “Good God, Syn,” I snapped. “It’s my virginity, not the Holy Grail.”

  He cocked a brow. “Want to wager which I treasure more?”

  Incredible man. Aggravating bastard. “I know, I know. You don’t want to hurt me.”

  “Oh, I will hurt you.”

  I swallowed. Inexplicably turned on. “Then hurt me.”

  “Unnnhh.”

  The eruption wasn’t his choice. I pulled it from him by reaching down, then cupping him…there.

  My sigh joined his grunt. Both were sharp with amazement.

  Fine. So I’d never done anything like this before. But limited experience didn’t equate stunted knowledge. He was a magnificent man…everywhere. His erection pulsed beneath my fingers, stretching them apart as I watched. I gawked while exploring him more, roaming every inch of his pulsing groin. The rough texture of his cargo pants only added to how distinctly masculine he felt, even to a girl who practically lived full-time in a man’s world.

  I reached in farther.

  Syn groaned.

  Softly squeezed the swells between his thighs.

  Syn swore.

  Dragged my hand back up his length, savoring every hard, hot inch of the journey.

  Syn held his breath. Shuddered hard.

  It was heady, having this power over him. A little scary—like walking a dragon on a leash.

  Until the dragon snapped the chain. And decided to breathe fire.

  Syn caught my wrist. Steely grip. Clamped tight. It ordered my gaze back up to his. His face, ruthless and gorgeous, consumed my vision…made it impossible to focus on anything else, even the panorama outside the window. His temples pulsed. His lips flattened. His stare turned to blue flames—

  As he jammed my hand beneath his waistband.

  Held it there, forcing me to grip his heat solely through his briefs. “This what you need, astremé?”

  My palm met wet warmth. Power rushed me all over again. The moisture spread along the cotton, making it cling to his engorged flesh, filling me with a primal sense of victory already.

  “Yeah,” I rasped, massaging him steadily. Fascination stirred into my desire. I was no stranger to male anatomy—one couldn’t defeat something they didn’t know—but this was an entirely new lesson. This was about Samsyn—and everything I’d so deeply craved to know about him for six years. Perhaps longer. If Destiny were a thing, I was certain it applied to us. He had to be, too. Had to feel it as I cradled the essence of his body in my hand, and the center of his soul in my stare. “Yeah, big guy,” I emphasized. “This is exactly what I need.”

  A smile flickered across his face. I didn’t complain when lusty urgency replaced it, matching his harsh jerks at his fly. He yanked the zipper down, flayed the panels back, and shoved his underwear free.

  His naked flesh burst out.

  I gasped in new wonderment.

  Silken skin. Proud pillar. More moisture dripping from the tip, sliding between my fingers as I stroked him to full excitement.

  “By the Creator.” I used the expression to honor him, for honored
is what I felt. And awed. And so, so aroused. “Samsyn.” I lifted a smile at his searching stare. “You’re beautiful.”

  He lowered to one elbow again. His hair fanned my face as he tenderly took my lips. “And you are beyond anything my dreams could create.”

  “You—you’ve dreamt about me?”

  Another smile tempted his sensual lips. “I plead the fifth.”

  “That only works on my turf, Arcadian.

  “I thought everything was your turf, starlight.”

  “Ahhh.” I managed a coy smirk. Barely. Thoughts, much less words, were nearly impossible to form with his perfect penis filling my hand. “Then you’ve fallen for my grand deception, too.”

  “Is that it?” He shuddered out a breath as I added light skims of my nails to the exploration. “Very…impressive.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m good at that deception stuff.”

  “No.” His retort was sudden—and snarled. “You are not.” Kissed me hard in emphasis. “And thank fuck for it.”

  Questions. About a thousand. Flying at my brain like archers’ arrows in an old movie, launched at the castle stronghold all at once. With vehemence matching his, I snipped the image short. He hadn’t shared his mysteries with me in six damn years; the possibility of it happening now—especially now—was as likely as the moon turning to cheese. And selfishly speaking, his desire was much more fun than his darkness.

  Oh, God. So much more.

  Yeah…especially now.

  He transformed again as I shifted my hold, dipping to cup the dense sac at his base. Holy hell. The man simply lifted a slow smile as I explored the…goods. It was as if the Creator knew, in crafting a man the size of a Sequoia, he’d need a spirit to match. A warrior’s drive…and a sex fiend’s desires.

  And a wicked, bacchanalian body to implement it with.

  Especially the cock I never wanted to let go.

  I told him so with a needy sigh. Showed him so by scraping back up his length, purposely tracing the thick veins, now throbbing and so damn hot. Finally, I slicked over his broad crown, shiny and taut and ready.

  “I think…you’re right,” I told him between one pant and the next.

  “About…what?”

  “Deception isn’t my thing.” As I drove my gaze up into his, I closed my palm over the tip of his erection. “Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”

  At first, he only moaned. Then growled. Then moaned again, before hitching up his mouth in an expression I had seen before. He used the smirk on sparring partners all the time—during the moment he was done playing around, and would officially start kicking their ass.

  “You are thinking…that you would greatly like to be fucked.”

  “S-s-see?” One word, spilled in three shaky sighs, due to his suckling pressure down my neck. “I c-can’t hide a th-thing from you, Cimarron.”

  He dipped into the valley between my breasts. Bit into the side of one erect peak then the other. “Just the way I like it, Valen.”

  Cheeky? Yes. But it made me as gooey as a greeting card ad. Bantering had always been a part of us, one of many threads woven into the fabric of what we were: a tapestry that had, in so many ways, simply just been, from that first handclasp on the runway together. Over the years, the tapestry waited in the shadows of time, letting us light it up as we were ready. Sometimes we’d discover huge chunks of it together. Sometimes the progress was an inch-by-inch process.

  Tonight qualified as a giant, freaking swath.

  A beautiful, breathtaking vista.

  Nothing verified that like the splendor of the man who rose back over me.

  He aligned his face just inches over mine. His azure eyes impaled me. His strong blade of a nose flared. His tongue slipped out, wetting the sensual angles of his mouth—

  As he fitted the crown of his cock against the cushions of my sex.

  My lungs stopped. My muscles tensed.

  Syn waited. Gave me a little smile. It was a unique expression from him, with a hint of teeth showing past the strained set of his lips. Unique…and sexy. Where’d he come up with that? Was that his special “deflower the virgin” look? And did I want to know how many other women on Arcadia had seen it before me?

  “Sssshh, astremé.”

  “What?” I frowned. “I didn’t say—”

  “You did not have to.” He brushed hair from my forehead before kissing it. “Quiet the thoughts. Let in the feelings.”

  I huffed into the dent between the slabs of his chest. “I’m letting in plenty of—ohhh!”

  A tiny throb, as he slid in a little more.

  So that was what he meant by feelings.

  Then came the giddiness, as he took my lips once more. And the shock, as his body slid deeper into me. Stretched me. Filled me.

  In places I never knew existed.

  The tissues that tore. The walls that were toppled. The depths that were unlocked.

  “Ohhhh…shit!”

  “Brooke. Astremé. Breathe.” They were commands but somehow pleas as well. The anomaly continued in his kiss, a mix of gentleness and violence that made my head spin, my body soften.

  The moment it did, he slid deeper in.

  I screamed into his mouth.

  He took it, and kept kissing me back.

  “Perfect,” he finally praised. “You are so fucking perfect.”

  He penetrated me more.

  But now…did more.

  New sensations began to hit. The girth of his cock stimulated my entrance in ways I’d never known…tingled through my sex as I’d never experienced…zapping the very depths of my clit. As he surged in farther, my body clenched and pulsed, compelling me to thrust upward, fully meeting every one of his rolling, pounding lunges.

  I wrapped a leg around his waist. The other. Gripped his neck, needing to watch as his dark desire took over. Needing to see him succumb to it, shuddering harder against me, fucking deeper into me.

  Deeper…

  Yes, it still hurt—but the pain also brought waves of profound pleasure. They flooded my body, hijacked my mind. I let Samsyn see all of it, too. Let him behold every drop of new awareness he gave me…the complete awe he inspired. His body took my breath away. His lust made my belly giddy. And all of his dark, prowling lust made me feel like a she-cat hunted by her mate…the only creature who could slake his hot, pounding desires.

  His darkness…

  Making everything so much better.

  His jaw clenched to the texture of granite. He raked both hands up my thighs, curled them beneath my ass, and gripped the cheeks hard. “Let me in, Brooke.”

  I frowned. But wasn’t he already—

  “Oh my God!”

  He wasn’t. But with his harder hold on my backside, he spread my thighs wider—

  Then drove his shaft all the way in.

  “Shit!” I screamed.

  “Shit,” Syn snarled. Held himself there, consuming my channel with his cock for long, pulsing moments. I battled to remember his coaching and breathe through the tension. Knew I needed to relax and let my body expand for him. But I didn’t feel expanded. I felt—

  “Tight.” His rasp turned my torment into his prayer—of gratitude. “So tight. So good.” It warmed through my hair as he drew back from my tunnel, hovered for a moment, then plunged back in with a jagged growl. I could do nothing but accept it. My legs were helpless in his hold. My body was pinned beneath his. I fought to summon rage about it, but couldn’t. I’d wanted this. Still wanted it. Had yearned for so long to know the full force of Samsyn’s lust, be the complete object of his warrior’s passion, take the full brunt of passion from his burnished, perfect body. Wishes granted. He took me, hard and heavily. Fucked me with driving, amazing force. Nothing about his desire was negotiable, injected into my bloodstream through his consuming kisses, fused to my desire with every hard, full punch of his cock.

  He was so damn beautiful.

  He spread a wide smile, making me realize I’d voiced that aloud. “I
am only beautiful because of what I reflect back at you.” He ducked in, capturing my mouth beneath his, twisting my tongue along his. When done, he only lifted an inch away. He stayed there, consuming my personal space, letting me smell the arousal on his skin, view the desire in his eyes.

  “Samsyn,” I whispered. “Oh…Samsyn.” Suddenly, the dreamy lilt in my voice changed. Pitched upward…into a tantalized sigh. “S-Samsyn?”

  His expression changed, too. There’d been a wicked method to his madness of the fresh position. As our bodies collided, his groin now stimulated my spread pussy—directly. The tender tissues responded at once, nearly crossing my eyes with arousal. My jaw dropped open—on a startled scream.

  “Samsyn!”

  His gaze gleamed with satisfaction. “Is that what you need too, my starlight?”

  Underestimation of the whole freaking year. I trembled. Throbbed. Waited. Wanted. Was like a bird riding a Scirocco gust, unsure whether I’d fly or fall, and he was the damn pressure front, controlling it all with every incredible roll of his hips. Up. Down. Higher. Lower.

  Higher…

  Ohhhh yes…higher.

  “Don’t…stop.”

  Why did the man answer my gasp with a chuckle? I was serious, dammit!

  “I have no intention of going anywhere, astremé.”

  Better. He was almost forgiven for the chuckle.

  He was really forgiven, as soon as he swung one leg out in order to brace a foot to the floor. The extra traction enabled him to shuttle deeper into me…hitting more and more of my swollen, throbbing clit…all but screaming for its ultimate release…

  “Samsyn!”

  “Starlight.” His body reflected the strain in his voice, muscles twisting against each other. He was stark and sweaty and perfect. “Fuck.” His head fell. His cock swelled against my walls. “Fuck, this is good.”

  Another understatement. By miles. This wasn’t “good”. This was magic. Spontaneous lightning. Gravity reversed. Energy turned to connection. Two bodies as one. Two hearts beating the same.

  I dropped my hand to the center of his chest, over the thunder proving my point. That brought his head back up. Our gazes twisted…and fused.