Dating Outside Your DNA (38 page)

Karen Kelley

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W
hatever the Seer wanted, the Seer got, be it for his comfort or his whim or his pleasure.

She stood, staring at the chair on the raised dais at one end of the chamber, the  chair where he sat when the visions came. From the expression that filled her green eyes, she knew it as well.

Had she witnessed his power? Had she watched as the magic within him exploded into a vision of what was or what would yet be?  As he influenced the high and the mighty of the surrounding lands and clans with the truth of his gift? Walking over to stand behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her back to his body.

"I have not seen you before, sweetling," he whispered into her

ear. Leaning down, he smoothed the hair from the side of her face

with his own and then touched his tongue to the edge of her ear.

"What is your name?"

He felt the shivers travel through her as his mouth tickled her

ear. Smiling, he bent down and kissed her n eck, tracing the muscle

there down to her shoulder with the tip of his tongue. Connor bit the

spot gently, teasing it with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue.

"Your name?" he asked again.

She arched then, clearly enjoying his touch and ready for more.

Her head fell back against his shoulder, and he moved his mouth to

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the soft skin there, kissing and licking his way down and back to her

ear. Still, she had not spoken.

"When I call out my pleasure, sweetling, what name will I

speak?"

He released her shoulders and slid his hands down her arms

and then over her stomach to hold her in complete contact with him.  Covering her stomach and pressing her to him, he rubbed against her  back, letting her feel the extent of his erection --hard and large and  ready  to pleasure her. Connor moved his hands up to take her  breasts in his grasp. Rubbing his thumbs over their tips and teasing  them to tightness, he no longer asked; he demanded.

"Tell me your name."

He felt her breasts swell in his hands, and he tugged now on

the distended nipples, enjoying the feel and imagining them in his  mouth, as he suckled hard on them and as she screamed out her  pleasure. But nothing could have pleased him more in that moment  than the way she gasped at each stroke he made, over and over until  she moaned out her name to him.

"Moira."

"Moira," he repeated slowly, drawing her name out until it was a  wish in the air around them. "Moira," he said again as he untied the  laces on her bodice and slid it down her shoulders until he could

touch her skin. "Moira," he now moaned as the heat and the scent of  her enticed him as much as his own scent was pulling her under his  control.

Connor paused for a moment, releasing her long enough to drag his tunic over his head and then turning her in to h is embrace.  He inhaled sharply as her skin touched his; the heat of it seared into his soul as the tightened peaks of her breasts pressed against his chest. Her added height brought her hips level almost to his, and he rubbed his hardened cock against her  stomach, letting her feel the extent of his arousal.

As he pushed her hair back off her shoulders, he realized that in addition to the raging lust in his blood, there was something else there, teasing him with its presence.

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Anticipation.

For the first time in years, this felt like more than the mindless rutting that happened between him and the countless, nameless women there for his needs. For the first time in too long, this was not simply scratching an itch, for the hint of something more seemed to stand off in the distance, something tantalizing and unknown and somehow tied to this woman.

He lifted her chin with his finger, forcing her gaze off the blasted chair and onto his face. Instead of the compliant gaze that usually met him, the clarity of her gold-flecked green eyes startled him.

Connor did something he'd not done before, something he never needed to do: he asked her permission.

"I want you, Moira," he whispered, dipping to touch and taste her lips for the first time. Connor slid his hand down to gather up her skirts, baring her legs and the treasure between them to his touch and his sight. "Let me?"

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BRAVA BOOKS are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp.

119 West 40th Street

New York, NY 10018

Copyright (c) 2009 Karen Kelley

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

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ISBN: 0- 7582-5030-4

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