No Such Thing (31 page)

"Close, Ryelle?" he rumbled, nuzzling her ear and breathing in her scent like an addict.

For answer, she tightened her hold on his left hand, bringing it between their bodies and pressing his knuckles against the juncture between her thighs.
She let out a sharp cry, her knees buckling, and her power swirled around and through him, sliding her touch over every part of his body like a multitude
of hands and mouths working their erotic magic.

He caught her around the waist, but found them both on their knees anyway, bodies vibrating together with passion. He dove for her mouth with a snarl of
lust, and with a sinuous twist of her body, she had both arms and legs wrapped around him, pulling him down with her. He pressed her into the floor, need
roaring through him, blinding him to everything but the soft welcome of her curves and the sweet demand of her mouth. His arousal ground against her center
and they both cried out, shuddering in a storm of passion.

He wanted to undress her, to explore every silky inch, to feel her naked against him and bury himself so deep within her that he couldn’t tell where
he ended and she began. But the pleasure spiraled taut with shocking swiftness, obliterating his control and overtaking his body with incredible force. His
hips jerked without volition and she moved with him, keening into his mouth while her nails pressed little goads of pain into his flesh. Then she threw
back her head with a thin scream, body arching under him, as his world exploded in a roar of pleasure so intense it was almost pain.

It receded slowly, leaving him to shudder in its loosening grip, face buried in her hair while he panted like a bellows.

"Oh my God, Declan," Ryelle gasped, her arms still tight around him, "I’ve never done that so fast. And with my clothes still
on."

He nuzzled the tender skin under her ear, intoxicated by the softness and sweet scent he found there. Tracing a path along the graceful line of her neck,
he dipped his tongue in the hollow of her throat with a hungry sound. Ryelle’s fingers slipped around the back of his neck, her nails scrapping
lightly against his skin and sending goose-bumps down his back.

"It’s just always turned me on so much that I can affect you with my ability. That I can give you pleasure with that part of me…what are
you doing?"

"Getting you naked," he growled, pulling the clasps of her blouse apart with urgent, determined fingers, tasting the skin he revealed with
ravenous delight.

She shivered under his mouth, fingers sinking into his hair to cup the back of his head. "But didn’t you just—?"

"Oh, yeah."

"I thought men needed time to recover. You seem—" She lost what she was saying on a gasp as he slipped a hand in her shirt and cupped her
breast.

"You’re still touching me, stroking me inside and out," he muttered as he nuzzled her shirt aside and admired the soft flesh in his hold.
The rosy pink nipple was drawn tight and when he circled it with his thumb, she arched under him with a low moan. "I need to have you naked before
you push me over the edge again."

"In that case…" she said in a voice breathless with laughter and passion.

He felt a sharp tug and blinked, glancing around at the shreds of their clothing on the floor before absorbing their nakedness with a rumble of approval.
Propping his weight on an elbow, he shifted away enough to take in the sight of Ryelle. She was his hottest fantasies made manifest, blowing away all his
dreams of her in naked glory. She had a sleek, slim build, with the usual female parts put together in the usual way, not that different from other women
he’d taken to bed. Yet she was completely different, rocking him with her beauty, every part of her calling to him like a siren’s song.

My Ryelle.

"God, you’re beautiful," he groaned, feeling the urgency begin to build in his body again, the grinding ache that threatened his control.
He tried desperately to ignore the sultry slide of her talent through his body, to focus on the sensation of running his hand from her breast over her flat
stomach and down the inside of a sleek thigh. "You feel like silk."

She was shivering under his touch, but her hands weren’t idle either, caressing his chest and finding the spot on his abdomen that made his muscles
flinch and tense. "No, you’re the beautiful one," she whispered. "Oh, Declan, if I’d known what was under those damn
uniforms, I would have stripped you bare the moment I got here."

"Same here," he growled, leaning down to close his lips over her nipple, fingers sliding back up her thigh to drift through tantalizing dark
curls.

She whimpered deep in her throat, body twisting under him, hands clutching at him with a desperation he understood to his soul. "Declan, you’re
driving me—ah!"

His fingers slipped through slick, hot flesh, finding a wet, throbbing welcome that slapped hard lust through him in an unexpected fury. He suckled hard on
her nipple as he drove his fingers into her, growling low in his throat when she came apart with a strangled cry, sleek body convulsing under him and
around his fingers.

Control gone, burning with wild desire, he nudged between her thighs and slid inside her in one long, agonizing thrust, shuddering at the slick, tight grip
of her body. With a feral sound, he met her dark, dazed eyes and lifted her legs until she wrapped them around his waist. He watched her eyes lose focus
and listened to her keen as she convulsed around him again.

Plunging his hands in her hair, he devoured her mouth with savage need while his body thrust and ground into hers with an animalistic lack of finesse that
would embarrass him later. But at the moment, her wild, uninhibited responses and the feel of her surrounding him in unbearable, rippling pleasure made any
control impossible. The world misted and disappeared in fire as he drove himself deeper, needing to reach the core of her, to touch the deepest parts of
her and make them his. His climax crashed over him like a wave, battering him over and over, and then leaving him on her shore in a tattered, limp, and
dazed heap.

Ryelle felt tears leak from under her lashes, but couldn’t do a thing about them except hold Declan tighter. She wasn’t sure where she got the
strength—her entire body felt liquefied, weak and trembling in the aftermath of their passion. But she couldn’t bear to unlock her arms from
around his neck, to release him and let go of this moment. Aside from being the best damned sex she’d ever experienced or even imagined, feeling him
surround her and fill her so fully was an intimacy that overflowed her heart with sweet longing. Even if he didn’t love her, she had this moment to
pretend, to feel the proprietary demand of his body and convince herself that he was hers.

"Ryelle," he groaned into her hair through harsh breath, "I’m sorry." With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself off, rolling
to his side.

She loosened her hold, but rolled with him, aching at the loss of him deep inside her. "For what?" she whispered, studying his face.

He was flushed, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with deepest indigo, hair tossed wildly about his head.
Gorgeous,
she sighed to herself in delight
and despair. His brows pulled together as his fingers came up to touch the wetness at the corners of her eyes. "I hurt you, didn’t I?"

"No," she answered with a wobbly smile. "I’ve never felt less pain in my life."

"Than why are you crying?" he muttered, crease still pulling his brows as he pressed his lips to her tears.

She closed her eyes, pulling him closer. "Sheer amazement. I may even start to worship you."

She surprised a chuckle out of him. When he leaned back, his frown was gone. "Amazement? What the hell for? I jumped you like an animal. I think I
broke speed records." As he spoke, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him.

"And thank God for that. I don’t think I could’ve taken much more. I’ve never had multiple orgasms in my life. I think I nearly
went into cardiac arrest. And I’m pretty sure my bones turned to jelly." She raised an arm and flopped it back down on his chest to
demonstrate.

He grinned, a lazy, masculine grin that made her stomach flip over and did silly things to her heart. Lord, she was pathetic and hopeless.

"Happy to be of service," he growled with a nip to her chin as he pulled her all the way on top of him. "Hate to break it to you,
though—we aren’t done yet." His hands, calluses rough against her smooth skin, glided from her shoulders down the curve of her back to
cup her bottom in his large, warm grip, sending shivers of delight over her flesh. She squirmed while his fingers explored those mounds and his lips and
tongue found the most sensitive spots on her throat.

"Again?" she whispered with a faint laugh, even while she cupped the back of his head, arching to give both his mouth and his stimulating hands
greater access. His hard muscles felt incredibly good against her, the crisp hairs on his chest tantalizing her nipples as she squirmed, sending amazing
waves of heat coursing through her yet again. She heard a low humming sound and realized it was coming from her own throat.

"Haven’t had enough of you," Declan rumbled against her throat. "Haven’t touched you enough, haven’t put my mouth on
you everywhere. It’d also be nice if I could do this without humping you like a brain-dead dog." He dropped his head back to the floor and
smiled up at her, eyes glittering with blue heat and humor. "If you want slow and easy, you’ll have to rein in that talent of yours."

"What does it feel like?" she asked, watching the indigo spikes in his eyes darken as she spread her fingers over the hard-muscled heat of his
skin.

"Like you’re all over me, everywhere inside me. Like you’ve got a thousand hands and a hundred mouths, and they’re all doing their
level best to drive me right out of my mind," he growled, his hands sliding down her thighs and urging them apart.

The tangle of lust that tightened her insides shocked her, considering how many times she’d already climaxed and how weak she felt as a result. But
she could feel him hardening again beneath her, could see the flush of desire brush his cheekbones with color, and his words reached deep inside her and
touched off fire. With a swift, lithe movement she wouldn’t have believed possible thirty seconds ago, she straddled his hips and sat up, sliding her
hands over his chest to tease his flat nipples.

"Like this?" she purred with a seductive smile. "Or like this?" She bent to lave her tongue over one tightening nub then applied
her teeth with gentle savagery as her hips did a slow, grinding roll over his erection.

He groaned, burying his hands in her hair and dragging her face to his. "Slow and easy next time," he rasped before claiming her mouth with
hot, fierce demand.

They didn’t make it to the bed for quite a while. By then, Ryelle had developed a deep, misty affection for the floor.
On the other hand, the softness of the bed has its advantages
, she thought as she snuggled against Declan’s side, images of their playful
rolling and their not so playful writhing still burning through her brain. She was sore from head to toe and couldn’t have been happier.

The sex had been beyond her wildest imaginings of how it would be to love Declan with everything she had, hot enough to stun her just in memory. But this
touched her as deeply, holding him and sharing warm intimacy. She had dreamed of it, being able to feel the imprint of his touch inside and out, to taste
him on her tongue and to have his warm, smoky scent fill her, to listen to his heart beating in her ear. She sighed, long and deep, and thought she’d
never been happier or more content in her life.

If only it would stay this way.

When they were young, she’d opened her soul to him, laid bare the deepest parts of her mind, heart, and spirit. It was disconcerting to realize he
was still there, could still occupy the secret parts of her through all these years even after his supposed defection. Seeing him hadn’t changed that
but only deepened the sensation, adding new layers of vulnerability and need to the tenderest portions of her being.

He’d said he’d loved her when they were young, but perhaps he really had gotten over her, moved on, pried her out of the secret parts of
himself. He was different, harder, more confident and commanding, less open and less willing to smile. But his words still resonated deep within her, the
turn of his head and gleam in his eyes as familiar to her as her own breath, confirming and solidifying his place in her heart and soul. And now he was
imprinted as deeply on her body as well. Leaving him would tear her apart.

Ryelle tightened her hold on him and banished thoughts of the future. She had him now and meant to cherish every moment.

"You okay?" he asked in a groggy voice.

"Never better," she sighed, rubbing her cheek against his warm skin with a hum of contented pleasure. "You?"

"Took the words outta my mouth," he mumbled and she glanced up to see his eyes closed, lips curved in a smug smile. "Sleep?"

"Can you? Or do I need to put a leash on my ability?"

"Mmm. Give me good dreams. Might wake you up in a couple…" He yawned hugely. "Hours."

She grinned, watching him with little sparkles of delight in her blood as he fell asleep with the smile still on his lips. Stretching out her talent, she
checked on the progress of the GenTec, who were still a safe enough distance away. She snuggled back down against Declan’s side, running a hand over
his hard chest with a smug smile of her own, before she let herself relax toward sleep. She set a ribbon of her ability to undulate between the GenTecs and
the station as an early warning system, and then allowed the rest of it to settle comfortably around them. She noticed that when she wasn’t thinking
about it, she wrapped her talent around Declan just as she did her arms and legs. Holding him to her with everything she had.

Her sleep was dreamless for a while, deep and sweet and more restful than she’d experienced in years. When she did dream, it was of Declan’s
mouth at her throat, his hands tantalizing her skin, teasing her breasts until she moaned, slipping between her thighs. Her climax brought with it the
realization that she wasn’t dreaming, that the hard-muscled body pressed against her back wasn’t just another frustrating fantasy.