Page 17 of Enchanted
Her eyes took on tiny silver flecks of light when she was happy, he noted. And the scent of her warmed with her mood. He knew how to make it warm still more, and how to cause those silver flecks to drown in deep, dark blue.
“All fairy tales have both. I like your hair this way.” He stepped closer, skimmed his fingers through it, testing weight and texture. “Tumbled and tangled.”
Her throat snapped closed. “I forgot to braid it this morning.”
“The wind’s had it,” he murmured, lifting a handful to his face. “I can smell the wind on it, and the sea.” It was reckless, he knew, but he had dreamed as well. And he remembered every rise and fall. “I’d taste both on your skin.”
Her knees had jellied. The blood was swimming so fast in her veins that she could hear the roar of it in her head. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe. So she only stood, staring into his eyes, waiting.
“Rowan Murray with the fairy eyes. Do you want me to touch you?” He laid a hand on her heart, felt each separate hammer blow pound between the gentle curves of her breasts. “Like this?” Then spread his fingers, circled them over one slope, under.
Her bones dissolved, her eyes clouded, and the breath shuddered between her lips in a yielding sigh. Hisfingers lay lightly on her, but the heat from them seemed to scorch through to flesh. Still, she moved neither toward him nor away.
“You’ve only to say no,” he murmured, “when I ask if you want me to taste you.”
But her head fell back, and those clouded eyes closed when he lowered his head to graze his teeth along her jawline. “The sea and the wind, and innocence as well.” His own needs thickened his voice, but there was an edge on it. “Will you give me that as well, do nothing to stop me taking it?” He eased back, waiting, willing her eyes to open and look into his. “If I kissed you now, Rowan, what might happen?”
Her lips trembled apart as memory of a question once asked in dreams and never answered struggled to surface. Then his mouth was on hers, and every thought willingly died. Lights, a wild swirl of them behind the eyes. Heat, a hot gush of it in the belly. The first sound she made was a whimper that might have been fear, but the next was a moan that was unmistakably pleasure.
He was gentler than she’d expected, perhaps more than he’d intended. His lips skimmed, sipped, nipped and nuzzled until hers went pillow soft and warm under them. She swayed against him in surrender, and request.
Oh, yes, I want this. Just this.
A shiver coursed through her as his hand circled the back of her neck, as he urged her head back, took the kiss deeper with a tangle of tongues and tastes, a mingle of breath that grew unsteady and quick. She gripped his shoulders, first for balance, then for the sheer joy of feeling that hard, dangerous strength, the bunch of muscles.
Her hands slid over and into his hair.
She had a flash of the wolf, the rich black pelt and sinewy strength, then of the man, sitting on her bed, gripping her hand as her body shuddered.
The memory of what could be in dreams, the barrage of sensations of what was, battered each other.
And she erupted.
Her mouth went wild under his, tore at his control. Her surrender had been sweet, but her demands were staggering. As his blood leaped, he dragged her closer, let the kiss fly from warm to hungry to something almost savage.
Still she urged him on, pulling him with her until he buried his face in her throat and had to fight not to use his teeth.
“You’re not ready for me.” He managed to pant it out, then yanked her back, shook her lightly. “By Finn, I’m not ready for you. There might come a time when that won’t matter, and we’ll take our chances. But it matters now.” His grip lightened, his tone gentled. “It matters today. Go home, Rowan, where you’ll be safe.”
Her head was still spinning, her pulse still roaring. “No one’s ever made me feel like that. I never knew anyone could.”
Something flashed into his eyes that made her shiver in anticipation. But then he muttered in a language she didn’t understand and lowered his brow to hers. “Honesty can be dangerous. I’m not always civilized, Rowan, but I work to be fair. Have a care how much you offer, for I’m likely to take more.”
“I’m terrible at lying.”
It made him laugh, and his eyes were calm again when he straightened. “Then be quiet, for God’s sake. Go home now. Not the way you came. You’ll see the path when you head out the front. Follow it and you’ll get home right enough.”
“Liam, I want—”
“I know what you want.” Firmly now, he took her by the arm and led her out. “If it were as simple as going upstairs and rolling around on the bed for an afternoon, we’d already be there.” While she sputtered, he continued to pull her to the front door. “But you’re not as simple as you’ve been taught to think. God knows I’m not. Go on home with you, Rowan.”
He all but shoved her out the door. Her rare and occasionally awesome temper shot to the surface as the wind slapped her face. “All right, Liam, because I don’t want it to be simple.” Her eyes flared at him as she dragged her hair back. “I’m tired of settling for simple. So don’t put your hands on me again unless you mean to complicate things.”
Riding on anger, she spun around, and didn’t question the fact that the path was there, wide and clear. She just marched to it and strode into the trees.
From the porch he watched; long after she was out of sight, he continued to watch her, smiling a bit when she finally reached her own home and slammed the door behind her.
“Good for you, Rowan Murray.”
