Page 27 of Behind the Lyrics
“All through the dark, I see your light. In the throes of death, I feel your life.” His voice lowered an octave, taking his natural alto to the upper cusp of a baritone. “Never knew I needed an angel ’til I needed you.” He moved closer, standing before me, his guitar following the last verse with a complicated set of notes.
Did he write this for me?The song, unlike most of his heavier tunes, was closer to a ballad than a hard-rock melody, but something in it tugged at my heartstrings and settled into my mind, an earworm that would be difficult to forget.
The movements of his fingers intrigued me. Not only did he have an amazing voice, but he was a skilled musician, too.
He stopped and held out a hand. “Here, Love.”
I grasped his fingers and stood.
Circling around until he stopped behind me, he jostled the strings and they rang through the silent room with his movement.
The back of the guitar lowered in front of me, and he slid the strap behind my neck.
“Viktor, what are you doing?” I stiffened from the added weight. “I don’t know how to play a guitar.”
“Trying something new.” His voice whispered in my ear, seductive and hot against my bare flesh, and my eyes closed out of reflex.
He laid his palms on my hips and wedged his body next to mine, pressing his chest to my back. Slipping a hand around my waist, he gripped the guitar, tightening the connection between us. Strumming the strings again, he purred the rest of the song against my neck, drowning my senses.
I gripped the sides of my legs, fighting an urge to twist and kiss him. There was something sexy and primal being cloistered between him and the instrument, the vibrations transferring to my hipbones. His breath caressed me, his soft words soothed me, and his smell wrapped me in a protective shield.
When he finished, I kept my eyelids closed for a few seconds, wishing the moment would last a little longer.
With tenderness, his hands trailed my sides then wrapped around my stomach to slip under the waistband, and dipped lower, circling…teasing. His breath, hot against the shell of my ear, fanned across my cheek.
A low groan escaped my mouth as his fingers played me as deftly as the guitar. If he didn’t stop,I’dbegin to sing, and my voice wasn’t rock star material.
“You’re an angel sent to tempt me, aren’t you?” His lips trailed kisses under my ear and across the nape of my neck.
“God.” I pressed my back into him, hoping to give him more room to continue teasing my body.
“Easy, now. I want to take this slow and savor every little sound you make, every little shift of your body, and every little pant you breathe.” His teeth scraped my skin, nipping and sucking, sending tiny shocks of pleasure through my nerves.
“Viktor, please…” My hands reached backward to grasp his hard thighs, pulling him closer to me. I wanted every part of him on my skin. He intoxicated me with his words and lips.
In one smooth movement, he lifted the musical instrument and threw it to the carpet, where it crashed with a discordant, angry clang.
Viktor grabbed my hips and twisted me to face him then dropped to his knees, staring up with lust and wonder on his face. His fingers skimmed the tops of my jeggings. “May I?”
Hot blood spurted in my veins, and I couldn’t take my eyes from those puffy, soft lips, imaging them—
“I need an answer, Love. I won’t do anything without your permission.”
Nodding, I could only breathe as the jeggings slid down and his tongue slid up my thigh, tracing a blazing, sensual path higher and higher.
I shuddered with anticipation.
Chapter 24
Viktor Farrow
Thongs. She wears thongs.
I slipped the white lace down her smooth hips and inhaled her scent, curving my hands around the backs of her thighs and digging my fingertips into the soft flesh to steady myself before I fucking fainted from the pure excitement and lust coursing in me.
She bit her bottom lip and moaned, and I couldn’t tear my attention from her face. I wanted to see what my pleasure did to her, to absorb every minute facial expression as I tried to erase, or at least ease, the horrible memories she carried from that bastard ex-husband.
Right before my tongue reached the promised land, something creaked from behind.
