Ashwini rose on tiptoe to run her lips down the stubbled edge of his jaw. “Good,” she whispered, her body humming at the proximity of his.
• • •
Stepping into Ash’s apartment after the too-fast elevator ride that hadn’t given his spinning head and thundering pulse any time to settle, Janvier took his time in removing his jacket and dropping it on the back of one of her sofas. She did the same thing before leaning down to unzip and pull off her ankle boots. He hunkered down to take off his own boots, then watched as she walked to the glass wall that looked out at the city.
His heart felt bruised tonight, but he’d rather be nowhere else than here, with her, with his lover. Be doing nothing else than loving her, living a lifetime in a heartbeat. When his phone buzzed, he almost didn’t look at the message, but Ash turned and in her face he saw the reminder that, no matter what, the victim had a prior claim on their attention.
“Khalil,” he told her after scanning the details, “appears to have settled in for a night of public debauchery at Masque. Emaya and Mateo couldn’t get in, but a Tower vampire named Trace was already inside when Khalil went in, and he reports that while Khalil is currently indulging his appetites on the glass platform, he’s booked out a more intimate ‘playroom’ for the night.”
“Does Masque have security protocols to protect guests in the playrooms?”
“Adele’s security monitors all the rooms via a live feed.” He met her gaze. “This monster appears locked up for the night, and we’ve heard nothing back from the computer teams tracking the victim’s identity. I think, cher, the night is ours.”
She held out a hand.
Beyond her, the falling snow blurred the hard edges of New York, made the Tower in the distance a smudged beam of light and the other buildings luminous shadows. It was the perfect background to silhouette her beauty, her resilient strength in the face of impossible odds. When he reached her, she led him into the privacy of the bedroom, the world beyond locked out the instant she closed the curtains over the balcony doors.
He’d dreamed of this moment for an eon, and now that it was here, he felt like an untried boy with his first woman. “Are you sure?” He couldn’t bear for her to regret this.
Her eyes pierced him, owned him. “Oh, yes.” One hand moving to caress his nape. “Touch me.”
It hit him then. She was so self-assured, handling his flirtation with ease and giving back as good as she got that he’d never before thought about what her ability demanded from her sexually. “Cher.” His fingers trembled as he cupped her face.
Lips quirking, she closed her own hands over his wrists. “Don’t worry, sugar.” A tease in her voice, though her pupils had expanded to turn her eyes into pools of darkness into which he could fall forever. “I might never have been able to stand to touch anyone enough to get naked with them, but that doesn’t mean I’m an innocent.”
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, lost and shaken and enslaved.
“If you try to convince me you’re a virgin”—narrowed eyes—“I’m going to get out my crossbow.”
26
Stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones, he shook his head. “It’s you.”
Her hands tightened on his wrists, and then she slid one hand back around to cup his nape and draw down his head. His own hands fell to her waist. She was the one who kissed him, explored him, coaxed him.
He’d been seduced many times in his long lifetime. In every instance, he’d known exactly what was happening, had allowed the seduction as part of a game in which both parties had been well satisfied. This . . . he had no control of it, was her instrument to do with as she pleased. Trembling, he sank into the kiss, into the feel of her hand stroking over his nape, her mouth playing with his.
Lips parting from his on a soft, wet sound, she met his gaze, smiled a wicked little smile, and kissed him again, his long and lean and beautiful lover. He tugged her so close there wasn’t a breath between them, the feel of her body pressing against his turning the kiss molten. Ash gasped at the hard evidence of his hunger, her free hand sliding under the edge of his T-shirt to touch the skin of his waist.
He groaned, wanted to beg for more.
“I could get used to having you do exactly what I want.” Her lashes lifted, her lips moving against his, the air between them scalding.
He found his footing in her gentle tease. “Have pity, cher. I am only a man and you are . . . you.” A nauseating thought hit him out of nowhere, almost cut him off at the knees. “Am I the only one? Is that why—”
“I’ve met others I can’t read,” she said before he could complete the question. “A small percentage of the population.” Each word punctuated by a kiss, as if she liked the taste of him.
He liked being tasted, being enjoyed, seduced in a way he hadn’t known he could be seduced.
“I even kissed some of them—out of curiosity and because everyone needs to be touched. Even me.” Another kiss, a nibble of his lower lip. “But when you grow up conscious of every touch, it’s difficult to treat sex as a simple physical release.”
The possessiveness at the heart of his nature heard the declaration hidden in her words, grabbed at it with avaricious hands. But then she was kissing him again, and his thoughts splintered. Shifting his hold to wrap one hand around the back of her neck, his other hand across her lower back, he gave in to the passion that had always been red-hot embers between them.
Her breathing was choppy, his heartbeat ragged by the time she kissed her way along his jaw and down his throat. He fisted his hand in her hair as she licked out at him, made a small noise in the back of her throat, and did it again. His body jerked, his hips wanting to grind his rigid cock against her. Squeezing his nape, she repeated her action, then blew on the spot. Tremors rocked his frame. He tugged up her head, their mouths meeting in a nakedness of need that locked its talons around his heart and pulled.
“Let’s go slow,” Ash whispered when they came up for air. “I want to do every naughty, dirty thing I’ve never done.” The wicked little smile was back. “Somehow, I think you know a few sins you can teach me.”
His cock felt as if it would shatter, but he was used to frustration. Being with any other woman after meeting her would’ve been a betrayal, no matter that they’d been adversaries at the time. A man knew when he’d found his woman. “I’ve been waiting years to play teacher with you.”