Feral (34 page)

“
Is that so freaking wrong?” he growled, grasping and pulling me into his arms.  I’d slid from the bed in an intuitive urge to flee.  He had recognized it before I had.  I hated confrontation.  “I’ve told you how I feel.  For over a month I’ve given you space, waiting for you to return the sentiment.  Instead, you’ve run the other way.  You’re looking for a fucking cure!  Is the notion of a life with me that atrocious?”

“No
, that’s not what I—”

Crushing his mouth to mine, he bruised my lips with a kiss.  As always, my body reacted accordingly, sweltering beneath his touch.  My lips parted of their own accord, submitting under the
demand of his tongue.  I could barely breathe around him, let alone think clearly.

Somewhere in the back of
my mind, I knew there was a reason I was supposed to be objecting.  I just couldn’t think of it with the absence of air in my lungs.  Perspiration budded across my face.  My hips ground against his, searching for his ever constant erection.  No they weren’t supposed to do that either.

Bad.  Bad.  Bad.

Hands tightening around my arms, his fingers dimpled my flesh as he broke the kiss.  He didn’t go far.  Only enough for his lips to roam hungrily across my jaw.  I gasped, stealing a ragged lungful of air.  The fresh burst of oxygen sent my mind back into a semblance of working order.

“Icarus, please
, just wait—”

“
Fuck waiting.  I’m done waiting.”  Tearing my bikinis at the hips, he ripped them from my waist.  “By the time I’m done with you—you won’t want to live without me.”

Rucking my shirt above my breasts, his callused palms ran over the sensitive skin, kneading and pinching.  Lord, he was going to fuck me
into submission.  The notion sent a coil of heat spiraling between my thighs.  I shuddered involuntarily, aroused and appalled.

“Oh God.”

“Save your oaths, Sweetheart, I haven’t even started yet.”

Pinned against the mattress
, I didn’t have much room to resist.  He shoved me backward.  I fell with an ungraceful ‘oomph’ onto the bed.  He slung my knees over his shoulder, and with a few sturdy thrusts, pushed me to the center of the mattress, my boobs jiggling inelegantly in my face along the way.  Icarus smiled errantly, his eyes traveling from my chest to the v of my thighs.  I could practically see those profligate wheels and gears turning inside his head.

He didn’t give me time to
protest, dropping down between my thighs.  My complaint turned into a garbled cry of shock.  Reason once again escaped the inner workings of my mind.  My resistant pushing and scratching turned to greedy pulls of his hair and salacious scores of my nails.  I basically turned into a docile pool of quivering flesh, begging for his touch.

His breath rolled warm across my
flesh as his tongue wrought indescribable pleasure.  He grinned wickedly, his ice blue eyes staring up from between my thighs.  Flushing, I dropped my head back to the mattress, my hands still twined in his hair.  My back arched off the bed.

I
could never rescind this.  He knew that.  Because for me, sex and love went hand in hand.  Some things you couldn’t take back.  After this moment, I would be changed forever.  Yes, he knew damn well what he was doing.  (And
I
wondered what had taken him so long.)

I needed a constant in my life.  Giving ourselves completely to one another would provide the commitment I desired. 
I know it was a false security, but without that tether, I felt like I was afloat, destined to drift wherever life—or a rival pack—decided to take me.  I hadn’t consciously realized it until now, but his rejection had left a deep-seated fear that he didn’t want me, that I was just a burden to him, and he would relinquish me to the first contender.

“
Stop thinking, Sweetheart,” Icarus crooned.  Cupping my rear in his hands, he lifted slightly, tracing the inside of my thigh with his tongue, while his thumb took over where his mouth left me wanting.  He dabbled at my core, probing softly before delving lower still.

“No…!”  I gasped, my thighs tensing.  Icarus was quick to restrain me, placing two strong hands on either side of my
knees.  “No, please don’t go there.”

Grinning crookedly, he crooned
, “Relax,” and dropped his head one more time.  I climaxed in a brilliant riot of spasms, my senses overwhelmed, my fingers curled into the top of his hair.  I could feel little puffs of breath against my core as he chuckled victoriously.

Rising to his knees, he glowed with self-assurance.  He was still fully clothed, although slightly wrinkled at the knees.  His hair was another story.  Locks stuck up in every direction, curling around his ears, which were pinkened
nicely, the only hint of his carnal exertions.

“Pleased with yourself?” I observed.

“Unequivocally.”

“Pervert.”

“Ditto.”

Touché. 
I pursed my lips.

Laughing unconscientiously, he dropped
on all fours and stalked closer, stopping once he straddled my hips, his hands resting on either side of my head.  “You’ve a fine ass, Sweetheart, mighty fine indeed.  I’ve been waiting to touch it for some time now.”

“Clearly.”

“I have many more plans for it too.”  Diving down for a kiss, he cut me a scathing glare when I dodged his lips.  “But first, I need to cure this aversion of yours.”

“I know where that tongue
’s been.”

“You could place your tongue on any part of me, and I would still kiss you.”

“Maybe we should test that theory,” I challenged.

“Is that a dare?
”

“Perhaps it is.”

If I thought his grin couldn’t grow any wider, I was wrong.  Flopping on the bed next to me, he placed his arms behind his head.  “I’m all yours, Sweetheart.  Work your evil.”

Dropping my eyes to crotch of his pants, I wet my lower lip with a sweep of my tongue, a wicked smile curved my mouth.

Icarus’s pupils dilated, swallowing his icy blue eyes.  He stared at my lips, a man consumed.  Just as quickly, he shook it off.  “No,” he said weakly.  Then, reaffirmed it with a stronger admonition.  “No.  I’ve changed my mind.”

“Too late.”  Straddling his legs, I reached for his belt, unwrappin
g him like the best gift ever.  I was careful to lift his boxer-briefs over his erection, but he still caught a bit at the tip.  I wasn’t practiced at unclothing a man by any means.  Springing free, he fell heavy against his stomach.  I had a moment of frisson.

Icarus
took advantage of my hesitation to capture my wrists in his hands.  “This isn’t a good idea for several reasons.  The foremost of which being your aversion to bodily fluids.”

“
Mind over matter,” I said, using his own words.  Kissing the planes of his chest, I rubbed against him, caressing his thick length with the silky skin of my breasts.

“You might not like it
.”

“
Only one way to find out.”  I tried to twist my hands from his grip, but his fingers tightened around my wrists.

“I want to make love to you, not traumatize you.”

I dipped my head, my breath rolling over the satiny head of his erection.  “I don’t
need
to use my hands.”

“Thaleiaaaoooooohmyfuckinggod,” he groaned, yielding under my persuasion.  I’d never done it before, but his reaction left no doubts of my ability.  “Jesusfreakingchristhelpme!”

Backing off, I swirled my tongue over him.  “I didn’t know you were religious.”

“Sweetheart, I thank God for you every d-d-day
.   AAaahhh fuck!”

“Can I have my hands back now?”  He was squeezing them in a death grip as I teased him mercilessly.  Who was stuttering now?

“AAhhh Jesus!  I cccccan’t let go.”

“I need to balance myself,” I insisted.  “Here,” I said, placing his hands on my head.  “You
can hold my hair back.”

“Not a good idea.  I’m afraid I might ram my dick straight down your throat.”

Stopping, I blinked despondently.  “Am I not doing it right?  Am I supposed to…” I shrugged, blushing.  “…go
deeper
?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you could screw it up unless you keep talking.”

“Oh.”  I smiled sheepishly and delve back into the matter at hand.  No pun intended.  I took my time, watching all his nuances as I pleasured him, learning what he liked and not.  There was little he didn’t like, I noted quickly.  Cupping him with my hand made his toes curl.  Skimming my teeth lightly over him made him curse under his breath.  But taking him deep, he could barely contain himself from releasing a full out verbal onslaught of expletives, his eyes pinching shut in complete and utter rapture.

Close to the end, he wrapped his hands into my hair, unable to refrain from bucking his hips.  My heart fluttered in an emotional ambush.  I hadn’t thought it would be like this, expecting the act to be less personal, but I felt a sense of satisfaction that I could cause him to react so viscerally.  He was primal in his race to the end, thrusting faster.  Deeper.  Harder.

I kept my eyes locked on his, my hand cupping his boys from underneath.  I could feel them tighten in my palm.  His lip curled.  His teeth set on edge.  Breaths coming in hungry gasps.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” he cha
nted, abruptly rigid.  “Stopstopstopstopstop.”

I didn’t.

Icarus bellowed, pulling my hair until I had to place my palms against his thighs.  Ten years of built up lust rushing forth in a torrent of spasms I could feel from my lips to my throat.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about
that
.

He seemed to go on forever, knees locked, body like a statue.  Nobody ever prepared me for any of this.  Not even Peyton.  And we discussed everything. 
Everything
.

What to do
…  I had already chosen when he tried to warn me.  It was too late to turn back.  I didn’t want to insult him.  Hopefully my gag reflex didn’t get the best of me.

Thus, I was flabbergasted when he extracted himself and sealed his lips to mine.  I murmured a protest against his mouth, distraught with the notion.  I’ve heard guys talk.  I never really understood the injustice.  When the roles were reversed it was ok.  Cowards.

But damn if he didn’t rise to the challenge.

Swirling his tongue around mine, he softened the shock
of his orgasm.  Kissing me until the tension and uncertainty unwound from the coil drawing me tight.  It wasn’t long before I was climbing him like a six foot ladder, eager to have him inside me.

Rolling me beneath him
, he parted our lips.  “You didn’t need to do that.”

“Neither did you.”

“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

“Really. 
It wasn’t bad; I just didn’t know what to expect.”

“I warned you.” 
Humor sliding from his face, he kissed me once then again, brushing the hair from my face with a gentle sweep of his hand.  “Choose me.”  Expecting the worst, his eyes drifted shut, his thick fringe of black lashes resting on his cheeks.

Choose him? 
“There is no choice to make.  I love you.”  His eyes flashed open, exuding contentment and relief.  He released a pent up breath.  I repeated myself, holding his eyes.  “I love you, Icarus Quirinus.”

He put into
the kiss what words couldn’t express, his lips moving against mine with urgency.  Pushing up on his toes, he lifted his weight from me, using his knee to part my thighs, resting himself between them with gentle ease.  My legs encompassed his waist, pulling him closer, hugging us together until we both moaned, greedy and desperate with need.

Breaking the kiss, he reached down, gingerly seeking home.  He searched blindly, nervously, clashing with my thigh, slipping past home.  “Thaleia, what you do to me…
it just ain’t right.  My hands are shaking like a damn virgin.”

“Lower,” I directed, lifting my hips for him.
  “Just…go slow.”  I’d only done it once, and the experience from what I remember was uncomfortable.

Holding my eyes, he pivoted his hips forward, barely entering
me.  My fingers tightened around his shoulders.  Loosely seated, he released himself and stroked his thumb between my legs.  My eyes rolled back in my head, my body going limber beneath his.

“Icarus!”
  The door slammed two floors below.  Max had returned early.  I could hear his footfalls as he rushed through the house.  He was panting heavily.  I wondered briefly if he ran all the way home.

“Busy!” Icarus shouted.  “Go away!”

“Whatever you’re doing, this is more important!”  He was running up the stairs now, his feet ascending the treads with haste.

Icarus grinned roguishly, snorting to himself. 
“I seriously doubt that.”

“Damn it!
” Max gasped.  “Where the fuck are you?”

“Upstairs!
”