Aurora's Promise (17 page)

Kilth rolled to the side. “I’m in the mood for a
different perspective.”

“What?” Phoebe stared at him, trying to clear the lust
haze from her eyes. She scooted to the edge of the bunk when he shifted to lie
on his back. He was a large man and there was very little room left once he
settled in place.

The ship rolled and she nearly toppled out of the bed. He
easily caught her with one arm and patted his taut stomach. “Come here.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I want you on top.”

“On top?”

A sexy grin spread over his face. “Yes. On top.”

She stared at him, questioning. When he nodded, her gaze
slid down his chest, snagged at the corded muscles of his abdomen before
widening when she took in the width and length of his erection. “I don’t think
it works that way.”

“Straddle my chest.”

Her eyes flew back to his face. “Is this a pointed jest
at my inexperience?”

“Woman, climb up here.” His words were stern but his tone
was amused.

After a brief pause, she pushed herself up, grabbed his
shoulders and threw her leg over his waist. He jerked when her shin grazed his
cock. “Careful,” he admonished. Placing his hands on her hips, he guided her to
a sitting position wherein she straddled him halfway up his chest. “There you
go. Sit up.”

She did and immediately felt exposed in a way she hadn’t
before. Nervously, she crossed one arm over her breasts and shielded the
junction of her thighs with her other hand.

“No. Rest your hands here,” he said, placing them high on
her outer thighs.

Glad for the dimming shadows when he did nothing more
than stare at her body spread open over him for what seemed like a century, she
was embarrassed to find that she was starting to breathe rather quickly when he’d
done nothing more than look. With his gaze so intimate, she found herself
wishing he would touch her instead.

His expression sharpened with desire until the planes and
angles of his face were set hard as flint. “You have a beautiful body, Phoebe.”
His palms caressed up her arms from her hands to her shoulders. He brushed back
the thick strands of hair that had fallen forward to screen her breasts. “Never
be ashamed of it.”

When his fingertips feathered over her collarbone, her
hands instinctively rose to hide her breasts but she stopped at the challenging
look he leveled at her. With a force of her will, she returned her hands to
where he had placed them, gripping her thighs to make sure they didn’t wander.
The approval that shone in his eyes at her response spiked her desire in a way
she was not wholly comfortable with. But as unnerving as this new position made
her, it also stimulated her in a new and thrilling way.

Before she could examine that further, his hands were
moving on her body again, scattering all thoughts save the ones being ignited
by the flames his touch was lighting. His hands molded around her breasts,
lifting them and rubbing the pads of his thumbs around her nipples until they
were straining toward him. Leaving them with a gentle twist that had her back
arching slightly, he splayed his hands and leisurely swept them over the soft
swell of her hips and stomach. They dipped down to her inner thighs and his
eyes raked over her skin with the same heat as was in his touch.

His thumbs grazed over the swelling lips of her pussy and
she struggled for breath. Back and forth, he moved his thumbs over the same
spot until the throbbing between her legs became insistent, demanding. She’d
been watching his hands on her. Now she looked up and found his gaze on her
face. Waiting. She opened her mouth to ask. “I…” His thumbs pressed harder yet
still avoided the one spot aching for his touch. But the throbbing increased,
robbing her of her voice.

It didn’t matter. He knew. Still watching her, he slid a
finger deep inside her.

Phoebe’s head fell back on a moan—

“Aurora.” Connyn ran his hands over his woman, gently
skimming them down her back and thighs. She murmured a sleepy protest and
pressed her face more firmly against his shoulder. He said her name again,
louder, and slipped his hands under the hem of her short nightgown to cup her
ass.

“Leave me alone,” she grumped.

He slid his fingers deeper into the crevice of her butt and
squeezed. “You’re making that a little difficult.”

“God. I’m sleeping here.”

“I was too until you crawled on top of me.”

The warm, relaxed body that had been draped over his slowly
stiffened. He could feel her heart start to beat harder against his chest.

“Shit,” she hissed. “It was a mistake. Just forget it ever
happened.”

“Not a chance.”

She started to push off him. “Why do you have to make
everything so damn difficult?”

“You must still be tired. You’re cranky.”

“And you’re irritating. Even when I’m not tired.”

He might have laughed, but at that moment Aurora shifted and
all thought fled except having her soft and willing beneath him. Soft she was.
Beneath him, he could manage. Willing…he might have to work at.

Swiftly he switched their positions so that he was on top,
settled between her legs and propped up on his elbows looking down into her
face. With an exasperated huff, she blew her hair out of her eyes. Not an
encouraging sign.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” she
asked.

“Are you saying no?”

Aurora hesitated. It was brief, but it was there. It was all
he needed.

The kiss was long and tender. He took his time and let the
passion build. She had been braced for an all-out attack—he’d seen it in her
eyes. But he knew that even with her resistance set, it would have been a
battle he’d have won. The undiluted, primitive desire that simmered constantly
between them promised that, ensuring that neither could physically deny the
other for long.

But he didn’t want her constantly resisting him and the
destiny set between and before them. Yesterday, he hadn’t been able to get out
of his mind the panicked look on her face when they’d talked about the future.
He’d never have for even a brief flash of time imagined his mate might be
against carrying his child. Ever. It was unthinkable. Impossible.

Her fear had to be connected to their inability to mentally
join. It must run so deep that unconsciously she was blocking him on the
soul-melding level needed for their union to be complete. Even though the words
of acceptance had come out of her mouth, they must not have come from her
heart. The ancient texts he’d studied had been very clear that in order for the
necessary heirs to be produced, a royal must have that vow truly from his mate.

May fate and the gods be damned to their chosen place of
eternal torture, and may they take destiny, prophecies and omens with them.
It had been a favorite saying of Rordyc’s until recently and at the moment, he
was inclined to agree, though they rarely agreed on much. In fact, one of the
few things all of his cousins did agree on was that the gods had been so
angered by the Five Brothers that they had made finding and keeping mates a
cosmic riddle meant to punish not only the brothers, but their progeny
throughout the generations.

Obviously the Ilyrian gods hadn’t taken lightly the way his
ancestors abused the powers given them for the protection and peace of their
people, using them instead to bring their world to near desolation in a war for
supreme domination. The ensuing curse had set the course of destiny in place
for the heirs of the Five Houses, placing on each generation the onus of
expectation to fulfill their part in the prophecy that would once more bring
about the peace and sure survival promised to his people. His generation
carried the knowledge that if they were unsuccessful, the final heirs would
never be born to lead their people into peace and the prophecy would fail.

The weight of duty and the expectations he’d lived with all
his life were reasons he could grasp for the alarm that reeled through his mind
on needle-sharp prods every time he tried to connect with Aurora’s mind and
found himself drowning in a sea of shimmering gold nothingness. The burden of
duty was something he and all of his cousins had lived with from the moment
they were born. What he couldn’t identify, but what was becoming disturbingly
stronger each day, was the reason behind his need for her that had nothing to
do with duty or the prophecy.

Breathing in her sighs as he continued to kiss her, he fed
off the yearning of her desire, patiently courting her reluctant response.
Between each leisurely kiss, he softly whispered against her skin his joy of
having her in his arms, in his life. He teased and invited until she was
opening wider, allowing his tongue in deeper. Cradling her head in his hands as
he lingered over every exploring kiss, he focused on her pleasure. Every murmur
and throaty hum he captured and locked into his memory.

She wrapped her arms around him and arched her body until
her breasts pressed against his chest. Her legs moved restlessly and her skin
grew hot. Running her hands over his back and shoulders, she urged him on and
returned his kiss with a rising eagerness.

Mentally he reached for her mind as he pressed deepening
kisses to her willing mouth. Again, there was nothing but the glittering gold
curtain engulfing him. He whispered her name, opened and offered his soul. The
golden mist shimmered and a warmth flowed through him unlike anything he’d
known before. A siren call of emotion too faint to be heard clearly, but there.
Lasting no more than the brush of a passing butterfly’s wings, it was still
undeniably
there.

Pouring the exultation of hope into his kiss, he slightly
loosened the reins on his lust and allowed desire to swirl in rising
anticipation between them. Her fingernails lightly scored down his back in
response and he skimmed his mouth down the side of her neck. With the tip of
his tongue, he circled the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat and when
her breath caught, sucked the delicate skin between his teeth.

Adjusting his weight so that he could look into her face, he
skimmed his hand over the gauzy material covering her breast. The soft white
garment had a row of pale pink bows tied between her breasts that kept the two
sides in place. “Very nice,” he murmured as he toyed with the bows, tugging on
the top one until it pulled apart.

“Thank your army of seamstresses.” Aurora’s voice was husky
and under the heavy fringe of her eyelashes, her eyes gleamed hot with passion
and promise. “You should see what else they came up with.”

His mouth curved up. “You think I’ll be pleased?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. Hedonistic invitation laced through her
words and tied them to his fantasies.

“I can hardly wait.” Lowering his mouth to her breast, he
laved and sucked on first one nipple and then the other until the fabric was
tantalizingly transparent over the tightened peaks. When he pulled back to blow
on them, Aurora arched her back and moaned, her hands pressing his back, urging
him back down.

Instead of taking her direction, he pulled the remaining
bows apart and slowly peeled the damp material from her breasts. Circling the
edges of her areolas with his fingertips and then very lightly tracing the full
under and side curves of her breast, he watched the pale skin pebble and her
dark pink nipples pucker tighter. Watching his mate respond to his touch
flooded him with a rush much deeper than simple lust. A relentless, erotic
rhythm drummed through his veins. A primal directive to take his mate, to make
her his and to keep her at all costs. Keep her safe. Keep her satisfied. Keep
her
his
.

The feeling exploded from his soul and battered every other
thought, every other consideration from his mind. Whatever it took, she would
be his. Body, soul
and
heart.

Aurora’s hand slipped down his side and around to his front.
Splaying her fingers wide, she ran her hand down the center of his chest and
back up. When she feathered them over his nipple, a jolt shot through his body
and the throbbing in his cock grew insistent.

He pinned her wandering hand to the bed and dipped his head
to her breast, sucking it deep into his mouth with one long pull.

“Oh God! Connyn!” Aurora’s free hand clutched at his back as
she twisted under him.

The taste of her skin, the soft firmness of her breast and
the frantic edge of need in her voice as she called out his name had him
turning to her other breast with a focused intensity as he continued to draw
the fire more tightly around them. Swirling his tongue around the sensitive
peak, he teased her until she was panting and had twisted his hair in her fist.
Still he waited.

“Now,” Aurora ordered. “Get inside me now!”

He pressed her nipple to the roof of his mouth, sucking hard
again. She jerked and gasped, then settled into a ragged breathing that lifted
and lowered her fully aroused breast against his face. Slowly he released her
nipple, dragging his teeth over the very tip.

“God you’re good with your mouth,” she hissed. “I want more.”

As he looked down at Aurora, the need for possession dug
deep into his bones. Her body was damp with perspiration, long curling tendrils
clung to her cheeks and neck and her dark eyes flashed with the demand of
desire he was more than happy to meet.

Letting go of her hand, he reached between their bodies and
yanked the hem of her nightgown to her waist. Repositioning himself over her,
he pressed the head of his cock against her entrance. When he went no further,
she cried out in frustration and vainly attempted to pull him up her body. He
caught her hands and threaded his fingers through hers, pressing them into the
deep pile of the bedding.