Angela Verdenius (7 page)

He’d felt that surge of fury, that urge to place himself between Molly and his own kind.  To protect her.  To beg her forgiveness.

What was wrong with him?

To top it all off, the Major’s treasure hunting son, Cujo, had made an appearance and he was sniffing after Molly.  Alsandair just knew it.  He’d seen the flare of interest in Cujo’s eyes, and knowing that bastard, he was going to try and find a way to get close – really close – to Molly.        

Closer than any decent man should get to her.

Closer than any other man apart from Alsandair himself should!

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to control the emotions washing through him.  Now where had that come from?  Alsandair took another deep breath.  Right, he was only angry because Cujo was daring to flirt with Molly, even though he knew – thought – that she belonged to Alsandair. 

Belonged to him.  Belonged to Alsandair.  He liked that thought.  Alsandair liked the feeling that had curled through him when Cujo had looked at Molly.  Possessive.  Protective. 
Mine.  Molly is mine
.  He could still remember leaning towards her, that fiercely protective emotion unfurling through him.  No man was going to touch her.

Shaking his head, Alsandair tried to bring his thoughts in order.  She was under his protection.  It was natural to want to protect her from the likes of Cujo.

Perfectly natural.

Was it perfectly natural to also betray someone you protected?

He closed his eyes. 
Goddamn it!  I have a job to do.  A duty!

A duty to betray Molly?

Finally he could take it no more.  He had to see her, talk to her.  Try to explain…what?  His part in the whole fiasco?

“Damn it.”  Teeth gritted, he strode from his room and down the deserted, gloomy corridor, thanking the stars that it was late at night and no one was around the private quarters.

Swinging into Molly’s corridor, he noted the soldier standing guard at her door and gave him a quick nod.  “You can go.  I’ll call when you’re to return.”

“Sir.”  The soldier marched away.

Squaring his shoulders, Alsandair reached up and knocked.  There was no answer.  He knocked again.  The door slid open and Molly stood there in a flimsy nightgown, scowling up at him, her hair in a thick ponytail.  She took one look at him and tried to get the door to shut again.

Alsandair prevented it with one hand.  “Molly-”

“Get lost!”  She peered out into the corridor.  “Where’s my gaoler?”

“He isn’t a gaoler, he’s a-”

“Guard.  Same thing.  Wouldn’t want me to run around free, spreading my nasty human self everywhere.  God forbid someone might actually find out who I am!  After all, I might decide to broadcast it around and then where would you all be?”  Molly glared at him.  “Remove your hand or I’ll do it for you.”

She was still furious.  It made his blood heat.  “Molly, please-”

“Oh, now it’s please!  Before it was force, now it’s please!”  She shoved him in the chest.  “Bugger off!”

That shove didn’t move him physically, but it stirred embers he hadn’t even known were coming to life.  “Molly-”

“Go away!”  She shoved him again.  “What part don’t you understand?  Huh?  Go awa-” 

Embers flared, Alsandair taking a long step forward before he’d even thought about it, forcing her backwards into the room. He watched the fury still burning in her expressive eyes as the door slid securely shut behind him.

He knew what the embers were now.  As he looked down at her, drinking in her features, soaking in her emotions, it triggered off a passion he’d never suspected was surging to the surface.

Alsandair wanted her.  He wanted Molly.  He wanted her with every snapping, firing spark that flared to life inside him.  He wanted to protect her.

He wanted to taste her.

“You’re not welcome here.”  She saw something in his expression, started to back away.  “Amirov?  What’s wrong with you?  You’re not looking quite…right…”

She looked so sweetly uncertain, her expressive eyes huge, those lush lips slightly parted... that curvy little body so innocent yet provocative in the simple nightgown that skimmed those luscious curves.

Her retreat unleashed a predator he hadn’t even suspected existed.  It roared up inside him, the longing, the needing, the heavy ache in his shaft.  The need to possess her.

As she jumped back with a gasp, Alsandair lunged forward, his arm wrapping around her waist to jerk her up against him.  She landed hard against his chest, those bountiful breasts pressing against his muscled hardness.  Her warmth, her scent, the little ‘o’ of surprise from those cupid lips unleashed the beast.

His fingers locked into her hair, holding her still as he took her lips, swallowing her protests.  He took her with a mastery that only made him feel stronger.  Needing to taste her, he slid his tongue across the seam of her lips, finding entry easy, then he was inside that warm honeyed haven, tasting her sweetness, thoroughly sweeping through her and taking her essence until he could taste her inside himself.

It wasn’t enough.  Could never be enough.

Dragging his lips from hers, he hungrily kissed his way down to her throat, using his hold in her hair to arch the tender length to his teeth and lips, nipping and kissing, licking and tasting.  Sucking and marking her as his.

At first she protested, mouthing ‘no’ even as her hands crept up his chest to latch onto his shoulders, pulling him closer, and she moaned softly.  He truly didn’t know if he’d be able to pull back from the carnal pull at his thoughts and senses if she’d protested harder, but her surrender was so fast that any lingering doubt he might have entertained was washed away on a tide of prurience.

Molly returned his kiss with a passion that matched his own.  She sought to capture his mouth, her little tongue sliding inside his mouth to fill him with her flavour, a heady burst that inflamed his senses.

He wanted more.  Needed more.  Was going to have more.

Hooking his hand into the thin straps over her shoulders, he trailed his fingers down her silky skin as he pushed the nightgown off her arms, the fragile material sweeping over the lush curves of her hips and down her legs to pool at her feet.

Now her flesh was bare to his touch, and he rested his hands on her hips, firmly guiding her as he pushed her backwards towards the bed, stopping only when the back of it nudged her knees.  Bringing both hands up to frame her cheeks, he kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth ruthlessly.  When he finally lifted his head, the blood in his veins was like molten lava, hot and thick and surging.

“Amirov…” she whispered huskily, the light of rapacity in her eyes, the huskiness of arousal in her voice.

The proof of her need in the pebbled hardness of her pink nipples that topped each creamy breast.

Alsandair didn’t say a word, he simply placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back onto the bed.  She didn’t protest, her hot eyes gazing up at him, watching as he stood by the bed and slowly, deliberately, stripped his jacket from his torso, the pants from his legs, kicking his boots off as he went.  His underwear went with his pants so that when he straightened, he was naked. 

Naked and fully aroused, his erection curved hard up against his hard, muscled abdomen.

Alsandair wasn’t vain.  He knew women found him attractive, he’d heard the murmurs of pleasure when he’d bedded them, the hunger in their eyes when they’d caressed his muscle-ribbed abdomen, the swells of strength in his chest and arms.

But right then, every thought of any of those women, those tall, elegant, controlled women, was forgotten. He wanted only to be pleasing to the eyes of this one small, emotional, curvy woman lying back on the bed waiting for him.  Going by the way she licked her lips, she liked what she saw.  Going by the passion shining in her eyes, she wanted him as much as he did her.

Resting his knee upon the bed beside her hip, Alsandair laid one hand on her thigh and almost straight away saw her breath catch.

The predator in him, the dominant beast that was making itself known for the very first time, made him tighten his hand just a little as he breathed harshly, “Mine.”

He liked it.  He liked the way the word sounded. He liked what it meant.  He liked the way it made her eyes widen a little.

“Amirov…”  It was a breathy protest.

Breathy meant nothing to him.  Her protest meant nothing.  “You don’t like it, Molly?”  He leaned down, his hand slipping higher, curving around the inside of her smooth thigh. He could feel the heat from her centre as his fingertip brushed the soft curls at the apex of her thighs.  “Too bad, Molly.  I like it.  I like it very much.”

He didn’t know what she saw on his face, but it seemed to alarm her a little, just as it also excited her.  He saw it in her flushed cheeks, the way she bit her lush lip.

“Know me, Molly,” he grated. 
Was that harsh voice really his?  The command in his voice so hot and yet demanding at the same time?  Yes, it was.  By God it was
.  “Know me.”

Without further preamble, he swept his hand up to cup her womanhood, the heel of his palm against the mound, pulsing against her even as his fingers slid between the slick folds to find the little bud hidden within.  Protected no more, both it – and Molly – was at his mercy.   

Her head fell back, her mouth opening on a gasp of pure pleasure as the little bud hardened beneath the stroking demand of his fingers.

There was no quarter given now.  Alsandair wanted her.  All of her.  He wanted every thought swept from her mind to be replaced with nothing but desire, heat, and him.

Especially him.  He wanted himself burned into her memory forever.

Swinging over her legs, he nudged them further apart and lowered himself swiftly, sliding back on the bed until he was where he wanted to be.  Between her thighs, his mouth ready for the feast.

“Amirov…”  Molly started to come up on her elbows, her eyes widening.  “What are you-”

“You are mine.”  Alsandair looked directly at her, over the soft curls, past the gentle swell of her belly and the luscious globes of her breasts, right up into her eyes.  “Now.  Always.”  With his fingers he spread her slick folds, baring her hidden treasures completely to him.  “I will know your taste, and I will always find you from it.”

He didn’t give her time to think or answer.  Dropping his head, he licked her in one long lap, from perineum to the very beginning of her folds, scraping over the little clitoris that pebbled for him, begging his touch in a silent peaking.

Molly collapsed back, a muffled cry coming from her as she writhed on the bed under his mouth.  With one hand he pinned her down, his palm on her belly holding her ruthlessly in place.

He took her with no mercy, his only thought of having her taste in him, of bringing her soul-shattering pleasure, making her know it was his mouth on her secrets.

He licked the slick folds, laved along the seam of her body, each stroke of his tongue strong and sure.  He sucked the little clitoris between his teeth carefully, laved it hotly, played it mercilessly with his mouth.

He felt her shatter beneath his ministrations, caught the dew of her desire in his mouth, scraped his tongue across her opening as she came once more.  But still he wasn’t finished with her, playing his tongue around the opening to her body, dipping it in and out before sliding back to her clitoris, playing it with his tongue over and over, alternating between strong licks and teasing lips. 

His own ardour was burning, firing up, roaring hotter and hotter with each orgasm Molly rolled through.  Finally he moved upwards, sliding up her body until he was above her, looking down into her flushed face and bright eyes, her panting breaths on his lips as he swooped down and kissed her hard, plundering her mouth once more, ravishing her for every sweet, honeyed drop she had to give.

“Oh God, oh God!” she whimpered.  “Amirov-”

“Alsandair.”  Lifting his head, he looked fiercely down into her eyes.  “It’s Alsandair, Molly.”

She blinked dazedly up at him.  “Alsandair…”

“And you’re mine.”  His shaft lodged in her labia, sliding against slick flesh as the engorged head sought her opening, finding the wet entrance almost immediately, drawn by the wet heat.  “Say it.”

“Alsandair.”

“Say it.”  Pulling back slightly, he rammed home, his shaft spearing through the little opening to stretch the channel beyond –
dear God, she was so tight
- pushing through the slickness until he slammed home. 
So deliciously, hedonistically home
.

Molly bucked beneath him, her cry fiercely welcome to his ears.  “Oh God, yes!”

“What, Molly?  What?”  He withdrew, slammed home again.

“You…you…”

“Say it.”  Withdrawing, he stopped at the very edge of her entrance. 
“Say it!”

“I’m yours!”  She writhed beneath him.  “Oh please!  I’m yours!”

He laughed, low and harsh, the predator in him relishing her total compliance.   Teasing her, teasing himself, he pumped into her heated sheath slow and steady, drawing out the pleasure until it was almost unbearable for him, definitely unbearable for her as she twisted beneath him, pleading, begging, cursing him for not going faster.

“Take me, Alsandair,” she demanded hoarsely, panting, the sheen of their carnal act shining on her brow, her breasts, the aroused scent of her rising from between their bodies to cloud his senses.  “Take me!”

“Do you dare to tell me what to do?” His kiss on her throat was open-mouthed, devouring.

“Just do me!”  Catching his strong jaw, she raked her lips down the side of his throat in retaliation, fighting for control of him, trying to make him do as she demanded.

“You’re not in control here, Molly.”  Alsandair laughed darkly, the pure lust he had roaring through him making him want to punish her – a touch of eroticism, not harshly.  Just a taste.  A warning to not push him too far.

In one swift move he pulled out of her, startling a cry from her, and in a movement so natural it felt like he’d done it a million times, he rolled her onto her stomach, his hand striking her lightly on her rounded bottom, making her gasp and jolt beneath him.