Page 28 of Beneath My Skin

It felt like he’d placed a spell on me. I focused on him and suddenly I did understand. I felt the heat rising against my skin again. I was surprised when he carried me in his arms as if I was precious, something to hold and protect and cherish.

When he laid me back on the soft bed, stepped to the side to look at me, I felt my cheeks warm and flush. He managed to disarm me with a quick grin. “I’ve wanted to get your clothes off since the first day we met.” The man’s cellular makeup was charm. “I want to watch you undress. I want to imagine what it would be like for the two of us, outside, with the sun on your skin.”

“And my arms free of scars?” I asked, even when I knew I should keep my mouth shut.

“Never apologize for your scars.” His gaze hardened and for a brief second, tattoos flashed across every inch of his exposed skin from his face to his feet. “Never. It’s part of who you are.”

“The girl with the demon in her blood,” I answered with only a little sarcasm, shrugging out of my shirt.

“The girl who survives.”

“Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I’m rushing.” He watched me toss my shirt aside, then the undershirt, bra. And finally my pants and underwear. Completely bare, I sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly self-conscious. When I spoke again, my voice was quiet. “You should be afraid of me.”

“I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever be. Despite your rather impressive display. I guess I should be, considering the demon inside of you is more powerful than I am. But it means little when I see you smile.”

He began to undress, removing his shirt and pants and tossing them across the room, never taking his eyes from me.

My heart fluttered as if it were a bird trapped in my chest. “What’s real and what’s not, Dax? I know one thing.”

“What?” Dax lowered, naked, to his knees in front of me. Kept his mouth a hairsbreadth away from mine once I leaned forward.

“I want you to love me.”

A panty-melting smile as wicked as sex in church during Sunday mass slid over his face. This time the kiss was slow and teasing. Sweet in a way we hadn’t managed before. I knew his mouth would fit against mine, had felt it before, but never like this. I recognized the slide of his tongue and the suggestive way his hips jerked forward when I did something he liked. In turn, he swallowed each breath catching in my throat, each sigh, and took my hands where they’d knotted on my lap.

The scars still stood out against the skin of my forearm. A remembrance of Cer’s earlier messages that hadn’t yet disappeared. Dax ignored them. So did I. He skimmed his fingertips along my curves, along my arms and thighs until he palmed my breasts.

“These,” he told me with a mischievous grin, “are glorious. And at last one of my own wishes has come true.” He took my nipple into his mouth and played with teeth and tongue until I was panting.

He still knelt in front of me, and suddenly the separation was too much for me. I reached under his arms and gently but insistently tugged until he joined me on the bed, until my chest pressed against his. Then I took control.

I ran my hands along his arms to test his muscles, tracing the lines of the still visible tattoos there. It was a warrior’s body, I thought. A man who’d been through much and survived to tell the tales. Pretty damn solid for a man who was supposedly made of smoke and wishes.

The rich tan of his skin gilded his muscles. I’d never seen such an exotic specimen of manhood. My gaze swept down and caught on his groin. He was already hard. A rush of pleasure took me at the knowledge that it was because of me.

I rested my palms against his bare chest. For now, he was mine. My heart beat fast and strong and I used my mouth on him. Pleasure rose until the tingle in my abdomen spread to all four limbs.

Desire—and stranger still, love—bloomed inside of me. A love I would have never thought possible with Cer involved.

“Dax.” I looked up to find him watching me. His deep-green irises were glassy in arousal. “I want to touch you.”

I reached between his legs and was rewarded with a sharp gasp. Mine, was all I could think, gripping him. Mine. Mine.

It was a small voice in my head. Weak yet, although I knew it could hold great power if given time. Nurturing. It wasn’t Cer, whose words burned through my soul like fire along a trail of gasoline. This voice was me. A me I’d never thought I could be after the accident. A version of myself who was resilient, competent, and confident.

His flesh was hard in my hand. I stroked him, caressed him until a moan came from deep within his throat.

Blood thundered inside of me as my fingers blazed a hot trail along his thigh. He swallowed as though trying to clear a dryness from his throat, then stopped himself from reaching out for me. Hesitant.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he said, voice thick.

“Oh God. You’ve never done this before, have you?” My eyes went wide. “You’ve never had sex with a woman.”

His laugh was forced. “Yes, I have. You called me a sex slave, remember?”

“You poor thing. I’ve changed my mind. Jacqueline’s had your bottle for so long, you’ve never had the chance to experience earthly pleasures.”

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