Heart of Stone (3 page)

"The winter storms are worse where he
is," he told her. "That's all. Lousy communications between there
and the valley. Clearer signal up here. Now as to how far away he
is …" He looked at her mouth.

Rose kissed him again, with more
confidence. He certainly couldn't ravish her while he was tied to
the bed. And if he wanted to tell her what he knew for a few
kisses, well, kissing him was quite pleasant, compared to some of
the sloppy, wet attempts other men had subjected her to. She'd
worry later that she'd been intimate with a man of his
caliber.

He seemed to very much enjoy simply
playing her lips with his, tasting her, sampling her breath while
their faces brushed. His breath was fresh, with a hint of brandy.
Intriguing as the scent of exotic berries in the market.

She wished that she could taste him
more. Maybe if he'd tell her something else.

"How far away is he?"

"A day's journey—by
cruiser."

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to
the corner of his mouth, intrigued by the fine crease there and the
texture of his warm skin faintly peppered with whiskers. Oh, he
liked that. A low sound vibrated through his chest, like the purr
of a tamed catamount.

"Which settlement is he in?"

Masterson stole another kiss himself,
his lips parted enough to catch her bottom one and taste it.
"Hmm?"

Rose let him kiss her again. She saw
how to get what she wanted. She'd play him like a violin. And leave
him here, wanting her, the way she'd wanted him.

All those nights tossing restlessly in
her narrow bed in Branch's spare bedroom had been good for
something after all; she'd imagined proving to Stone Masterson that
she could please him better than a mistress. And if she blushed to
remember the things she'd done, pretending it was him touching her,
well, he needn't know that.

"Which settlement?" she
repeated.

His eyes narrowed. "I don't know if I
should tell you that much."

He had to tell her. She hadn't dared
this much not to learn everything she wanted to know. About Branch,
she reminded herself. Not about how it would feel to take this
encounter to its natural culmination.

She shifted over, planting one hand on
his far shoulder. Then, with a daring she wouldn't have thought
possible an hour ago, she straddled him, planting one knee on
either side of his lean hips with her hands on his chest. He drew
in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring.

"Tell me where." Her heart in her
throat, nearly unable to believe her own daring, Rose eased herself
down so she rode him. The only barriers between them were her thin
panties and his snug pants.

What she hadn't counted on was the
effect on her own body. As she settled lightly on his groin, he
tensed, reminding her that she was astride a powerful, virile male.
A long, thick shape prodded her tender labia, sending heat lashing
through her. Her pussy clenched and then melted. She fought a
losing battle with a blush at the knowing glint in his eyes. It was
all she could do not to rub herself on him and stoke the rising
flames.

"Ah, siren," he approved, his voice a
little hoarse now. "He's near Adamant. But …" His gaze on her
mouth, his own lips parted, letting her know what he
wanted.

She bent and kissed him again, letting
her breasts press against his chest. Pleasure and triumph fizzed
through her like champagne. She was astride a beast far more
dangerous than a catamount, and she was in charge. "But
what?"

He kissed her harder this time, cocking
his head to taste her, coaxing her to snuggle in flatter on him, to
run her fingers into his hair to hold him just so, where she could
let him suck her tongue into his mouth and enjoy it.

"But you'll need me to guide you." His
hips surged under hers, raking her with that concealed weapon.
"I've a big cruiser and a pilot. Let me take you there."

"You'd do that?" She turned her head
just enough to let him continue nuzzling her face with his own. Oh,
he was going for the side of her throat. She had just time to feel
a frisson of danger, an inkling this was not a good
idea.

Then he nipped her neck where it met
her shoulder. His teeth scraped her tender skin, igniting every
nerve ending, sending pleasure streaking through her. She bit back
the whimper that tried to escape her throat.

He called her a siren, but this man was
as potent as the moon-brandy he'd been drinking, more delicious
than any pastry she'd ever tasted.

"I'd do that for you," he promised.
"Say yes, and I'll take you with me."

"Yes? To what?"

"Yes to us. Yes to this. Yes to here …
and now."

He opened his mouth, sucking until she
writhed against him, helpless against the pleasure. What would it
hurt, after all, if she let him give her this? No one would ever
have to know. She just wanted this one time with the real man, not
the chimera of her fantasies. Of course there could never be any
more between them. He was a brigand, not the kind of man on whom a
woman pinned a lifetime of dreams.

"Yes to me kissing you like
this all over your luscious body," he went on, his breath tickling
her skin, his deep, rough voice reverberating through her. "Yes to
my hands on you and in you. Say yes,
Rose."

"Y-yes," she managed. "Oh, yes." She
might not survive, as dizzy as she was at just this, but she had to
have him.

His shoulders rolled mightily and just
like that his long arms closed around her bare back in two
implacable bands of cerametal. He wrapped one big hand about the
back of her neck, opened his mouth on her skin and sucked, just
where she would feel it the most.

Rose whimpered. She couldn't help it.
The fire-lit room spun crazily and she found herself underneath her
captive. His long, hard, male body pressed her into the bed while
he continued to employ all the weapons at his disposal. As he was
now free to do.

"I—tied you up," she managed, blinking
up at him. Somehow her arms had slid up around him, capturing his
heat and strength in her embrace. He was still between her parted
legs, but now his superior weight was above her as he rubbed
himself into the soft center of her body. It was delicious, it was
maddening. She had to stop this … just as soon as she got control
of the dizzy heat spinning around inside her.

He nibbled her ear, and one of his big
hands molded itself over her breast, caressing her through the thin
chamois leather. His hair fell across her cheek, smelling of tarma
pine and smoke.

"I've a rather special skill set," he
said apologetically. "I've gotten loose from many a crueler captor
than you, darlin'."

He kissed her again, so tenderly that
she could not object when the tie of her halter loosened. He lifted
up on one elbow to watch as he bared her breasts. He sucked in his
breath, his eyes flaming in the shadows. "Great God, you're
lovely."

She knew she had pretty breasts—they
were full and round. At his words, her nipples tightened, pointing
up at him, begging for attention.

Masterson smiled. "You like me looking
at you. Let's see how you like this."

He caressed her, pushing up her bare
breasts into tempting mounds as he teased her with grazes of his
lips, stinging nips of his strong white teeth, his hair dragging
over her skin, tickling her. When she could bear it no more and
drove her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer, he chuckled
deep in his throat, but he gave her what she wanted, needed,
drawing one nipple into his mouth while he pinched and rolled the
other. His mouth was hot and silky, and he wasn't afraid to use it
on her, pulling so strongly her nipple was flattened between his
tongue and the roof of his mouth, the edge of his teeth raking her
as he let go.

He enjoyed both of her breasts, turning
from one to the other, then back, as if he couldn't decide which
was more delectable, suckling and fondling until her nipples were
hyper-sensitive, every strong pull echoing deep inside her pussy.
Rose squirmed under him, her thighs squeezing his, rocking up
against him as she sought relief from the throbbing between her
legs.

"Ah, you need me, don't you?" His
whiskers scraped her soft skin as he kissed his way up her throat,
pausing to nip the point of her chin. "Don't fret, sweet Rose. I
won't leave you aching."

Looking into his shadowed face, she
believed him. So much that she objected not at all, even helped, as
he unfastened her little skirt. He pushed it off her hips along
with her panties, leaving her naked and open under him. He looked
her over from head to toe, slipping his hand behind her knee and
crooking her leg up to admire her pussy. She wanted to wriggle with
pleasure under that look.

He kissed her as he cupped one hand
between her legs, holding her while he teased her mouth with those
knowing lips of his.

"I'm going to have you first with my
hand and then with my mouth." He watched her closely as he traced
the swollen, wet seam of her labia with his calloused fingertips.
"All right?'

"Yes—please." She clutched at him as he
stroked her back and forth, his fingers slipping a little farther
inside her each time, until she trembled under his hand and dug her
nails demandingly into his shoulders. Was this his revenge for
tying him up, to tease her and leave her hanging on this precipice
of need?

"That's right, leave your mark on me,"
he approved, watching her. Two of his long fingers slid right
inside her, plumbing her tight, sleek channel. There he stopped,
while satisfaction tightened his face. "You're not a
virgin."

He expected her to talk
while he had his fingers inside her most private place? Rose opened
her mouth but the wrong words came out. "Don't stop
now
."

He grinned wickedly. He drew his
fingers nearly out, stroking her inner thigh with the back of his
hand. "So soft," he praised. "Inside and out."

In and out, in and out, he plumbed her.
She blushed at the succulent, wet sound. He watched her mercilessly
as a gyre-hawk. "Open up a little more for me, love. Move with
me—show me what you like."

And she did. Her knee drew up and she
arched in his tender grasp, reaching down to place her hand over
his and guide him. She was not prepared, however, for the onslaught
of pleasure. She knew what she liked when she touched herself, but
his hand was so much larger, harder, every sensation was magnified.
And of course it was combined with his knowing gaze and that wicked
mouth. She wanted to kiss him again. She tugged him down to
her.

"Like this?" he asked against her
mouth. As she nodded eagerly, he curled those wicked fingers inside
her, finding that magical place up behind her mons and pressing
firmly, while his big thumb found the tiny, swollen knot of her
clitoris and began to work it. He kissed her as well, his mouth
opening over hers, devouring her.

She whimpered with delight, her pussy
spasming tightly around his fingers as she came, more quickly than
she ever had before. Not that she had a lot to compare him to—her
own touch and a few hasty, fumbling couplings with young men she'd
dated in culinary school. They might have been geniuses with
gremel-fruit and pastry, but they certainly didn't know their way
around a woman's body the way this man did.

Of course they hadn't made her heart
pound, her pussy wet, just by looking at her, either. She forced
her eyes open. This wasn't why she'd come here. "We should go …
shouldn't we?"

"We'll leave at first light," he told
her. "Can't leave now—storm blowing in." He shifted down so that he
could press a kiss to her bare belly, his fingers still inside her.
Her toes curling at the pleasure of the tender caress, Rose lifted
her head to peer at him. She gaped as she saw where he was making
himself comfortable. He shouldered her bare thighs farther apart,
leaning over to kiss the inside of her knee. Meeting her gaze, he
winked as he bent his head to her mons and inhaled deeply. His eyes
grew heavy. The bruise on his cheek only made him look more
roguish.

"Ah, siren, I love the way you smell.
And such a pretty little pussy. You knew a man would be seeing this
trim job, didn't you? Just a trail of sweet red curls, leading
straight to heaven."

He was looking at her with careful
attention to detail. This time her blush suffused her entire body,
from head to toe, but it was accompanied by another deep thrill of
pleasure. Having him look at her there was intensely embarrassing
and yet incredibly arousing.

When she felt his tongue on her, Rose
cried out. She couldn't help it. He knew exactly what to do, where
to lavish it like a silken whip, how to delve it deep between his
fingers, holding her spread open for his enjoyment.

"
Oh.
You shouldn't. But—please don't
stop," she begged him, spearing her fingers into his hair so he
would not cease that velvet caress. "I'm … oh, I'm coming again, I
am!"

He chuckled deep in his throat, but he
didn't stop licking her.

Rose came, another toe-curling
implosion of pleasure, even though she'd never come more than once
before. Somehow, it did not surprise her, because it was this man.
He'd had her at first look—this was the culmination.