The lazy slide of skin on skin intoxicated him. The scent of her filled his senses. He was drowning in her, kissing down her body, taking his time to worship her as she deserved. He lingered over her nipples, slowly loving them into hard, wet peaks, her sighs his reward. She moaned when he reached her stomach, the muscles tightening under his touch. She no longer squirmed away from the feel of his whiskers. Instead, she arched into his touch, begging him silently for more.
When he reached the apex of her thighs she opened eagerly for him, inviting him to taste, to touch, to feast on her until they were both sated. She moaned at the first touch of his tongue, moving her hips until they’d established a rhythm that had her panting with need.
Before too long she was coming on his tongue, her little gasps and sighs becoming one long, drawn-out groan. She cried out beneath him, her body bowing, arching, thrusting her beautiful breasts upward, and begging for his touch.
When she came down, her back once more on the bed, her legs wide and loose around him, he moved up her body again. He kissed each breast before he took her mouth once more, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
She pushed at his shoulder and he went where she directed, landing on his back. Oh, man. Please, please let her be about to return the favor.
She did, bending so swiftly to his cock he had no doubt as to her hunger for him. She sucked him in and took him deep, almost to the root. He buried his hands in her hair, not guiding, simply holding on for dear life.
Just before he thought he would lose it she let him go with a wet plop. Where he’d worshipped her, she’d devoured him, awakened his deepest hungers. She straddled him, but before she could take him inside he took back the control she’d stolen from him.
He grabbed her hips and pulled her up with him until his head rested against the headboard, his shoulders propped up. When she took him into her body he pulled her head down, kissing her, fucking her mouth with his tongue.
She rode him steadily, deeply, her head thrown back in pleasure. He stroked between her legs, the hard nub of flesh slick under his fingers. She whimpered when he pulled her forward, sucking her nipple between his teeth, biting down gently. He wanted her to come, to strangle him in her wet heat, to— She cried out, her movements stuttering almost to a stop. She spasmed around him, her pussy clenching him so hard he almost came with her.
Almost.
He grabbed a hold of her hips and held her steady as he pounded into her, all sense, all reason lost in the pleasure of her. The worship was over. It was time to conquer, to claim. He wanted to mark her, to brand her so that she never even looked at another man.
Skye sobbed, her nails digging into his chest as he dug his feet into the mattress and took her. “Fuck me. Oh, gods, fuck me harder.”
Morgan saw red, his vision narrowed down to her. Her face, her body, filled him as he gave her what she’d begged for. He fucked her hard and deep, his balls drawing tight as he neared his peak.
She screamed, her nails drawing little half circles of blood in his flesh as she came again. This time, Morgan tumbled over the edge with her, his own cries nearly drowning hers out.
So good. It was never this good, this all-encompassing, all-over orgasm that rocked him to his very soul. He poured everything he had into her, gave her everything he was.
When it was over, she was slumped over him, his half-hard cock still twitching inside her. They were breathing hard, panting, muscles spasming with their release.
She rested her head against is chest. “Whoa.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Whoa.”
She licked her lips and did some sort of weird, wiggling thing with her hips that had his cock twitching with interest once more. Gods, all she had to do was breathe and he was rock hard, eager for her. “Again?”
He grinned at her moan as he thrust into her once more. “Again.”
“Your recovery time is—”
“Divine?”
Her laughter quickly died as he showed her once more just how divine he could be.
Chapter Eleven
Skye stepped behind Morgan and Magnus. It had been a matter of hours to get Magnus up to speed and get the weapons the two men felt they needed.
They’d given her, of all things, a delicate short sword to strap to her side. Like she knew what to do with it. Her memories might have returned, but she’d never been a warrior.
Still, when one stormed heaven one should be prepared to defend oneself. She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m ready.”
Magnus ruffled her hair. “You’ll be fine, sis.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Sis?”
“You and Morgan, right?” He shrugged. “So, sis.”
Morgan looked far too satisfied about that. “Yeah. Okay. Maybe someday.”
Magnus’s cough sounded suspiciously like bullshit, but she decided not to call him on it. “All right. I’ve got Mjolnir, our packs and a little something to bribe Nik with.”
“What would that be?” Morgan was strapping on his sword. How the brothers thought they’d get far in the outside world with big, bulky weapons on their backs was beyond her.
“Toni’s private phone number.”
The brothers shared an evil grin. “Oh, man. He’s so going to owe you one.”
“That’s the idea.” Morgan looked around, his hands on his hips. “I think that’s everything.” He suddenly reached out and pulled Skye close. He kissed her with a possessiveness Fenris would have approved of, as if he hadn’t marked her thoroughly the night before. “You let Magnus and I handle any fighting, got it?”
She nodded, too busy relishing his taste to argue. Besides, hello! So not a warrior. “Uh-huh.”
That smug satisfaction was back on his face. “Good girl.”
She frowned. “If you pat me on the head and ask if I’m housebroken—”
Magnus burst into laughter. “Can we get her a collar?”
She rolled her eyes and kicked Magnus in the shin. “I’ve got all my shots too. Asshole.”
Morgan just grinned and opened the door. “It’s time to… say hello to Logan and Kir.”
Skye whipped around so fast she hit Magnus in the thigh with her sword. “Hi, Logan and Kir.”
“And Tyr.” Travis grinned savagely at them. His eyes were glowing, hiding the bright blue they normally were, and his blond hair was mussed. He had a sword over his shoulder just as Morgan and Magnus did. Losing his sword hand had not apparently slowed the god of justice down one bit.
“And Val.” The Terminator wasn’t smiling.
Crud. Looked like they weren’t sneaking away after all.
Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “Going somewhere?”
Kir tsk’d. “And without us.”
Logan scowled at his lover. “If I had my way you’d be house-sitting Jordan.”
“She’s certainly getting as big as one,” Magnus muttered.
Kir scowled back. “Sit, Kir. Stay.”
“Woof.” The lovers turned to Val. “What?”
“Ugh.” Skye pushed her way past Morgan and Magnus, who’d taken a protective stance in front of her. “We’re going after Sleipnir.”
Val nodded. “We thought so. Let’s go.”
“Uh, don’t you have to stay here, Logan?” Morgan tugged her back behind him, ignoring her struggle. It was like a toy poodle struggling against The Rock. Unless she nipped his hand she wasn’t getting put down.
Flames licked up and down Logan’s body. “I’m going.”
Kir gave them that sweet, stubborn smile they’d all grown to know and fear. “Me too. If he gets to be stupid, I get to be stupid.”