“I haven’t even touched you, and you’re falling apart,” he told her, his voice a sensual rasp.
“I hate you.”
“Hate me all you want.”
Judah eased his hand across and down her shoulder, over her waist, and then he cupped her butt. Even through the cotton of her summer dress and panties, she felt the heat of his touch. And, God help her, she wanted him. All of him.
When he reached down, grasped the edge of her skirt and slowly bunched it in his hand, she closed her eyes and whimpered. His fingertips moved upward beneath the dress and over her panties.
She managed to say one word. “Don’t.”
“Shh…” he hissed into her ear as his fingers found the small of her back, that ultrasensitive spot just above her buttocks. “Relax, sweet Mercy. Let me pleasure you.”
Judah, please…please…
He rubbed his index finger over her sacrum, faster and faster, harder and harder. Mercy held her breath as sensation built inside her. Suddenly a zap of electrical energy shot from Judah’s fingers directly into the vertebrae in the small of her back.
Jerking uncontrollably, Mercy cried out as she climaxed.
FOURTEEN
How could she have let this happen? She could have escaped. She could have stopped him. Why hadn’t she?
Because you wanted this. Because you want him.
Judah eased his hand out from under her dress, letting the skirt fall back down over her legs, the hem brushing against her calves. But he kept her pinned against the cabin door, her back to his chest, his erection throbbing against her buttocks.
As the aftershocks of her orgasm faded away, Mercy fought an inner battle, her heart versus her mind. Her heart whispered soft, passionate yearnings, but every logical thought commanded her to flee.
Fight your desires.
Fight Judah. Don’t let him do this to you.
“Let me go,” she pleaded. “You don’t want me this way, taking me against my will.”
“I’ll take you any way I can.” He murmured the words against her neck. “And make no mistake, sweet Mercy, I intend to have you. Tonight.” He shoved himself against her, grinding his erect penis against the cheeks of her ass.
Calling forth what strength the recent hours of sleep had regenerated within her, Mercy focused on overpowering Judah and gaining her release. She needed only a moment of forceful energy to take him off guard and free herself. As he ran his hands over her, his breath hot against her neck, she shot a jolt of electrical pressure from her body into his. He bellowed in pain as the shock waves hit his nerve endings.
She broke away from him, grasped the doorknob and yanked open the door.
Run. Fast. Get away while you can.
If only she possessed the ability to levitate, she could fly away from danger.
With her energy once again greatly depleted, Mercy made it only ten feet from the cabin before Judah caught her and whirled her around to face him. Hardened with rage over what she’d done, he focused his frigid glare on her body, raking over her from neck to toes. She felt the intensity of his gaze, a sensation of hot and then cold sliding downward, between her breasts, across her belly, between her thighs. Her dress split apart where his gaze moved over it, as did her bra and panties beneath.
Judah released her, then stepped back to view his handiwork.
Calling on what energy she had left to form a countermove, she sent a mental blast straight toward him, but he caught it mid-flight and crushed it as it were nothing more than spun glass. Her only hope was conjuring a spell. But did she have enough strength? And should it be a defensive or an offensive spell?
When Judah smiled, thinking himself the victor in their battle, she remained perfectly still, as if she were unable to move. But all the while she worked frantically, mentally reciting the ancient words in the tongue of her ancestors, casting a powerfully dangerous spell that would instantly infuse her with enough strength to defend herself.
Judah stopped abruptly, his big body rigid. Do you know what you’re doing? In your weakened condition, such a spell could kill you once its effects wear off.
How did he know what she was trying to do?
He was inside her head, listening!
How do you know the language of my ancestors? Mercy demanded.
Because they were my ancestors, too, and just as your elders taught you the language, my elders taught me.
“Doesn’t knowing to what lengths I’m willing to go to escape from you tell you anything?” she shouted.
Judah didn’t reply.
Suddenly she felt him probing her mind. No! He was trying to erase the mystical connections she had been creating. One by one, the words disappeared. She struggled to replace them, but he worked faster than she did, removing more than she recreated, until the magic of the words exploded inside her, shattering the last of her energy and leaving her completely vulnerable.
He came toward her again, determination in every step.
“You’re an animal! A brute!” She inched backward, intending to turn and run, but he was on her before she realized it, swooping down over her like a giant bird of prey capturing his quarry.
She struggled, beating her fists against his face and chest, flailing like a fish on a hook. While physically fighting him, she delved deeply inside herself, seeking the core of her strength. She might be weak and exhausted, but the essence of her powers remained. Always.
When Judah manacled her wrists in one hand and twisted her arms behind her back with the other, she kicked at him, hitting his ankles and calves. He thrust his left knee between her thighs and slid his leg around and behind hers, causing her to lose her balance. They fell together onto the ground, Mercy on her back, the wind knocked out of her, and Judah sprawled on top of her.
She gasped for breath, her chest aching as her lungs struggled for air.
He rose up just enough so that she could catch her breath, but before she had a chance to renew their sparring match, Judah plunged his hand between her thighs and ripped the torn fragments of her panties from her body. Mercy bucked up, trying to stop him, but inadvertently drew his exploring fingers into her feminine folds. He stroked his thumb across her nub as he delved two fingers inside her.
She keened softly as pure sensation spiraled through her.
He lowered his head and nudged the tattered edges of her bodice and bra apart to reveal her left breast. He lapped her nipple with the tip of his tongue, the action eliciting soft whimpers from her throat. While his thumb worked her nub and his fingers explored, his mouth covered her nipple and areola, sucking greedily.
Mercy lifted her arms and pushed against his chest, her movements weak and ineffectual. Not because she no longer had the strength to fight him, but because she no longer had the will to fight herself. She wanted Judah as much as she had wanted him seven years ago when she hadn’t known he was Ansara. No, that wasn’t quite true. She wanted him even more now than she had then.
She brought her right arm up and around his neck. Her fingers forked through his long, black hair, cupping the back of his head, holding him to her breast. She slipped her left hand between them and rubbed her open palm over his erection.
Judah growled like the aroused beast he was, and flung her hand aside to open his trousers and free his straining sex. When he withdrew his hand from between her thighs and lifted his head from her breast, she whimpered.
He looked down at her; their gazes locked. Passion ignited between them, shooting sparks of energy all around their bodies. While she draped her left arm across his back and yanked his shirt free of his slacks, he shoved his hands under her hips and lifted her up to meet his swift, hard push into her body. He took her with relentless force, battering her repeatedly, completely out of control. Clinging to him, she gladly took all that he gave her, as wildly hungry for him as he was for her. For every thrust, she countered. For every hot, tongue-dueling kiss, she reciprocated. For every earthy, erotic word he uttered, she replied in kind.