Collector's Item (20 page)

“I certainly hope you’ve lured me out here to take advantage of me,” she murmured.

****

Peyton laughed and hugged her tight. He’d been showing off when he’d transformed and that she could so easily match his gesture with a flash transformation of her own, made him want to roar with pride. And her first words were just what he’d expected.

“That’s the plan, princess,” he said.

She laughed and drew his head down to hers. “Then don’t keep a girl waiting.” Then her lips were on his and he had no intention of answering in anything resembling words.

Her lips were as soft as he’d remembered and her skin smelled of moonlit paths. He slid his hands down her side, soft and smooth as powder, rounding her waist and reaching down to the curve where her back and her ass met. His hands slid down further to grip the firmness of her and press her closer to him.

The sound of her pleasure and the feel of her pushing closer, shifting to rub herself against his thigh nearly drove him mad. The heat of her sex against him, the warmth of her belly against his erection made him move from her lips to her throat, using hungry lips and gentle teeth to explore and mark her as his. His!

When her hands slid to cup his ass in a mirror gesture to his, he growled against her skin and lifted her higher against him. He loved the feel of her body pressed to him, wishing he could wrap her around him like a blanket.

The thought of how they would soon be doing just that caused his erection to swell to almost painful proportions. He fought the urge to drop to the ground and take her right there on the grass. He forced himself to lift his head away from her neck and let her slide down his body until her feet touched the ground. Her head fell back as if she felt as weak as he did; her eyelashes lay dark and full against the alabaster gleam of her skin. Her lips, plump and full from his kisses, were parted and her teeth gleamed pearly white for a second before she closed her mouth and opened her eyes.

God, she’s beautiful.

He forced himself to let enough space separate them so he could take her hand and lead her toward the tent. She followed without a word, her hand warm and trusting in his, her heartbeat a slowing drumbeat in his ears. She probably expected him to lead her inside, but he stopped her just outside the entrance. “Wait here.”

He reached in the tent and dragged out the folded sleeping bags he’d set just within the entrance. He carried them a short distance to a spot he’d chosen where the grass was lush and would provide a perfect cushion. He spread the bags out, one on top of the other, then he faced her. For a moment, he paused, thinking she might be disappointed it wasn’t satin sheets and candlelight.

She hadn’t moved from where she stood beside the tent, her arms crossed over her beautiful breasts, her dark eyes shadowed by a fall of that incredible mass of hair. Her mouth peeked from beneath the shadow, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He strode back to her, his stomach tightening with worry, and reached out to push aside those midnight tangles so he could see her face. The sparkle of moisture on her cheeks startled him and he froze.

His heart plummeted. Shit! He’d screwed up. “What’s wrong?”

She lifted her face to his and a smile spread across her face like a full moon rising in a dark sky. Her hand rose to cup his cheek and he leaned his head aside to press it between his head and shoulder.

“Nothing’s wrong, silly.” She swallowed, the smooth flow of muscles catching his eye and his breath. Her gaze slipped past him to the fabric spread on the ground and then back to his face. “It’s almost perfect.” She pulled her hand free and dropped it to take his. “Now, show me how you’re going to make it absolutely perfect.”

Peyton was so relieved he had to fight the conflicting desires to shake her or sweep her up in his arms. Instead, he led her back to the sleeping bags and waited for her to step onto them first. She released his hand to step forward and then walked a tight circle on the fabric before settling down on them, her legs tucked up under her, her face lifted to his.

He eased down beside her, still a little thrown by the earlier tears, uncertain of her mood. The faint musk of her arousal seemed to indicate he hadn’t totally messed up, but he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize this precious first encounter. He leaned forward to kiss her, breathing in her scent again, the warm aroma of her excitement setting off fireworks in his brain. He wrapped his hands around the curves of her hips, enjoying the feel of her bare flesh beneath his palms. Her hands slid around his waist and up the length of his back, the pressure of her fingertips against his skin leaving a trail of heat.

Her mouth opened beneath his, the touch of her tongue stirred his blood into a beat and thrum that drove his breath faster. Her lips met his with a softness he’d been unable to drive from his memory since that day in the hospital, and every new kiss only etched it deeper and deeper into his mind and his soul.

Soul mate,
Max echoed, a subdued but approving presence in his mind that faded into blackness as KT moved beside him.

He moved with her until she was laid flat on her back, his body half covering her. His fingers traveled the faint ripples of her ribcage before they homed in on the mound of her breast. Supporting himself on one elbow, he continued his assault on her mouth and throat, her lips meeting his with a passion that matched his own. The sound of their moans and gasps filled his ears and the night around them.

He drew back to feast on the glow of moonlight on her skin. Her hair, a mass of waves and curls, spread across the fabric of the sleeping bag like a midnight-colored aurora and he lifted a section, feeling the curls wrapping around his fingers like they had that night in her apartment. He should have recognized it then, but he’d been too caught up in his determination to catch Torne to see it. Her dark eyes glittered in the moonlight as her gaze moved across his features and then down his body.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, beating her to speech. Her immediate smile made him twitch against her thigh.

The moonlight almost washed away the slight darkening of her blush. “Thank you, handsome man, but I believe I said something about you ‘showing’ me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a laugh and leaned over to capture her mouth again with his.

This time, his mouth did not stay there, nor did his hands satisfy themselves with her breasts, lovely as they were. He shifted to kneel over her, his hands smoothing across her ribs, over the gentle mound of her stomach, and down to rest on her hips. He trailed kisses down her chest, around the delicious rise of her breasts, and down the center of her stomach to her belly button.

The sound of her little gasps and moans, the feel of her body writhing beneath him, and the scent of her musk all wove together and rolled through him like a tidal wave. He used his knees to push her legs apart and knelt between them, feeling her legs bend so her knees clasped him around his hips. His hands dropped to the ground to support him while he scanned the dark curls covering her sex. A faint glittering in their darkness made him smile and he lowered his head to breathe in the scent of her desire.

“Peyton. You’re killing me,” she groaned, rising up on her elbows to glare down at him.

“Don’t think you’re the only one suffering,” he grinned and then descended on her, his fingers gently opening her to his tongue.

Her gasp and collapse onto the sleeping bag rocked his world like an earthquake. His tongue darted out to explore her folds, her body quivering like a sapling caught in a storm. Her taste filled his brain with fever and his groin throbbed. He trailed fingers across the valley between her legs and then slid one over her opening.

“Peyton!” His name rose like a shout, a prayer, a plea, and he inserted his finger into that hot dampness. Her muscles clenched as he stroked her higher and higher, while her hands tangled in his hair, her legs around his shoulders. Just as he sensed her approaching the peak, he slowed and listened with a hidden smile to her curse him. Who knew his princess had a mouth like a sailor.

He smiled and climbed her body, trailing kisses across the sensitive mound of her belly, up through the valley between her breasts, to the soft, moist hollow of her throat. The feel of his skin sliding over hers was intoxicating and the moment when the tip of him touched the warmth of her center took his breath. He pushed himself up on his hands to gaze down at her, holding himself apart from her by sheer will for just a heartbeat. Her scent rose around him like perfume, her flesh gleaming and flushed with passion. Her eyes opened and she would have spoken, but he drove himself into her, encasing himself in the molten warmth of her flesh.

She gasped, her hands bunching the sleeping bag into knots as she planted her feet to meet his thrust with one of her own. He fought himself, keeping his strokes deep, wanting to prolong the moment, to bring her with him. Her gaze locked on his, watching his face as they moved together.

Peyton could feel his climax building in the heat of her. He felt her pleasure mounting in the tightening of her muscles around him, drawing him back each time he drew out. Just as he felt himself driving toward the edge, he stared into the fathomless depths of her gaze and gasped. “Come with me, KT. Come with me, now!”

She nodded, her body movements matching his, stroke for stroke, her hands locked around his waist, urging him faster. Unable to hold back any longer, he rocketed into the stratosphere, her body bucking under him through her own climax like an unbroken horse.

When he felt as if his entire soul had poured into her body, Peyton collapsed forward covering her, supporting himself on his elbows to keep from crushing her.

Her elbows pressed against his, pushing out. “No,” she gasped. “I want to feel you all over me.”

He eased down and buried his face in her neck, her skin slick with sweat and smelling like heaven. The sound of their breath and heartbeats filled his ears, and the feel of her arms wrapped around him, her fingers playing in his hair lulled him into oblivion.

****

Morning light warmed KT’s eyelids and she took a deep breath. An unexpected weight across her side stopped her in mid-breath and she looked down at Peyton’s arm, light brown hair against darkly tanned skin. His warm body spooned against her brought memories flooding back and a smile spread across her face.

The hunt last night had been short, but all the sweeter for having been shared. And afterward…afterwards, she chuckled.

Peyton’s voice rumbled against her hair. “If you’re going to be one of those cheerful early morning risers, we’re going to have a problem.”

She rolled over onto her back, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Peyton propped his head on one hand and stared down at her. “Though, if you look half this good every morning, I might manage.”

His pupils dilated as she stroked one hand down his chest. “If you can match last night’s performance every night, I think I can guarantee it.” Her fingers trailed lower and his breath began to stagger, stopping entirely when she wrapped her hand around the length of him. “My, my, my, you seem to be an early riser, too.”

He lifted her hand and placed it in the curve of his hip. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”

“Well, you did promise me a bed and breakfast.” She tried to frown at him, but her mood made it difficult.

“And we will. Promise. I just couldn’t resist surprising you.” He leaned over to kiss her nose. “So, how do we go about this?”

KT laughed. “After last night, I hardly think you need any instructions.”

He gestured up and down the length of their entwined bodies. “This. On a regular basis. As in every morning, for the rest of our lives.”

KT drew back in mock surprise, though her heart leaped and began to pound. “What? Are you trying to make an honest woman of me?”

“The sooner, the better.” Peyton pulled her close, his lean body warm against her skin. “Listen. I’m not known for my patience. Besides, I’m not going to risk losing you again, princess.” He leaned back to look down at her. “You do want to, don’t you?”

If his insecurity had been any less real, she might have giggled. Peyton was not a man she thought of as being insecure. Instead, she reached up and pushed his hair out of his face.

“I do.” When his body relaxed, she rolled him onto his back. With her hands on either side of his head, she pushed herself up enough to stare down at him. “You do know the Marant Family motto, don’t you?”

He shook his head, his hands roaming down her back to cup her buttocks, a most distracting maneuver. “I haven’t actually looked it up.”

“‘What Marant takes, Marant holds,’“ she quoted. “And you, sir, I plan to hold.”

Peyton laughed, making KT brace herself to keep from rolling off. “I like it. Bold and to the point.” His hands shifted and his arms slid around her to hold her tight. “But I think you’ve got it backward. I’ve got you. Remember, you’re my Collector’s Item.”

A word about the author...

Denise Golinowski has always been a writer. A hopeful romantic, she gravitated to fantasy and romance.
Collector's Item
is her second e-novella with The Wild Rose Press, Inc. Her first e-novella,
The Festival of the Flowers: The Courtesan and The Scholar
, was published by The Wild Rose Press in September, 2010. She has also had a number of short stories published, both in the Chesterfield Writers Anthologies and in several online publications. Denise is a member of the Romance Writers of America, Virginia Romance Writers, and James River Writers. Through these organizations and the support of two fantastic critique groups, RichWriters and Writers Endeavor, she continues to hone her craft.