Mystical Seduction: full-length sensual paranormal romance (The Protectors) (4 page)

He felt tired and prickly and—thanks to Faith—horny as hell.
Didn’t a man have a limit to the amount of teasing he could take? The gates
holding back his sexual desires suddenly snapped, and he forgot about all the
reasons he should stay away from her.

Horace strode after her. If Faith insisted they play games,
he’d play.

And play to win.

“What are you doing out here?”

Faith immediately recognized his voice. His crisp
no-nonsense tone had the power to turn her legs to tingling pools of jelly. She
breathed in deeply and tossed the trash bag into the dumpster before turning
around to face Horace.

Heck, she’d been waiting for this all night, some
uninterrupted time with him. Getting her wish shouldn’t make her heart hammer
in her throat, should it?

“Since I was still around at closing,” she said, trying to
sound as nonchalant as possible. “I thought I might as well pitch in, help
out.”

“You shouldn’t be in the alleyway at this time of night.
It’s not safe.” He took a step toward her. His midnight blue gaze pressed down
on her. “You’re not safe.”

It took considerable willpower to stand her ground and keep
a sarcastic tug on her lips. She didn’t want to admit that she’d stayed and
helped Tim clean up with the hopes of catching a moment alone with Horace. A
moment exactly like this where anything could happen. Nor did she want him to
know that she had already lost her nerve. The predatory way he was looking at
her made her entire body feel all quivery.

“I’m not safe…from you?” she asked. Her voice cracked.

“
Yes, from me
.” He took another step closer.

What had she been thinking? She knew nothing about the
illusive Horace West. No one did. Not really. She’d heard he didn’t date, but
that couldn’t be right.

“Perhaps I enjoy living on the edge,” she said, surprising
herself with the flirty lilt in her voice. She stood a bit taller, tilted her
head a bit more, and reminded herself that, no matter how sexy, he was just a
man—a man who set off sparks when he touched her. Heck, she could taste the
sparks on her tongue right now, and he still stood several feet away.

Oh boy, she was in over her head.

“You don’t have to scare me,” she said. “It’s my birthday,
and I’m looking for someone to enjoy it with me. I had thought that you might—”

He touched her hand. His fingers felt hot, as if they should
have burned her. And in a way they did. But not her hand. His touch burned
deeper. She glanced down and watched as he traced the soft skin covering her
knuckles.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he said softly. “But I do
hope you take my warning seriously.”

“You are warning me…of what?”

“I haven’t been with a woman in years.”

“
Years
?”

“My choice. I have my reasons.”  His tender caress trailed
up her bare arm.

The sparks between them heated the already scorching summer
air. She had to swallow several times before she felt she could talk without
her voice wavering. “I-I see.”

“It’s not that I haven’t had the opportunity. Women have hit
on me before.” He gave a rueful grin. “Happens pretty much every night.”

She nodded and swallowed again. Should she feel embarrassed
that he considered her simply another one of his groupies?

Poor guy, he’d made it clear to her earlier that he wanted
to be left alone. But instead of staying out of his way like a good girl, she’d
made a nuisance of herself all night.

And she never tossed herself at a man like this. She should
be dying from mortification just about now. But she didn’t feel the slightest
bit embarrassed. The way he caressed her, lightly rubbing his fingers up and
down her arm, made her feel sexy.

Aroused…

And more than a little needy.

“Never,” he said, his soft bedroom voice pressed on her
chest and vibrated low in her belly. “Never have I been so…so
tempted
.”

He took another step closer. His leg pressed up against
hers, nudging her. The club’s rough brick wall bit into her back. She didn’t
realize until that moment that he’d been directing her, driving her, like a
lion would a gazelle, until she was trapped between the club’s back wall and
his body.

“I don’t know what it is about you, Faith.”  He brushed his
lips over hers, a teasing gesture that made her hungry for his kiss. “I feel
drawn to you. Like a moth is drawn to fire, you know?”

Only she was the one getting burned.

Perhaps she should have listened to his warning. It was hard
to think with him this close to her. She could only feel. Her body ached for
his touch, his mouth, his body. And that alone made him dangerous.

“I-I—perhaps—we—shouldn’t—”

“Hmmm…”  he said and slanted his mouth over her lips.
Tasting, savoring, demanding, she respond. His tongue plunged into her mouth
and swirled into her depths, careful around her newly pierced tongue.

“You’re right, you know,”  he said as soon as he pulled back
from a kiss that Faith hadn’t wanted to ever end. His voice was a low purr. “We
shouldn’t be doing any of this.” But his body said that it was too late for
her. That he would do with her what he wanted.

He pressed his knee between her legs and eased them apart.
With her legs spread and vulnerable to him, he lifted her hips until the tips
of her toes barely touched the ground.

“
Do
you want me to stop?” he asked.

Every rational part of her shouted at her, telling her that
she’d regret what they were about to do. But she didn’t feel very rational at
the moment. Whether it was a good idea or not, she wanted to be here.

With
him
.

Doing
this
.

She nuzzled his neck. “Please, don’t stop.”

Horace’s hands traveled over her hips and up her body, and
eased beneath her tank top. He touched Faith’s bare skin just under her firm
breasts as if his hands belonged there.

He seemed to know what she liked. Or was it the excitement
of this crazy moment making her extra sensitive to the pressure against her
breasts as he slowly moved his hands higher? Her nipples beaded and ached for
more. No one had ever touched her like this before. Her breasts felt vividly
alive and suddenly connected to the soft flesh between her legs with a zinging
cord of electricity.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Faith managed to say again between
kisses.

Pleasure danced in Horace’s eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Faith’s throat felt clogged with passion. Heated blood
pounded through her body, demanding she seduce this man into doing more than
just touch her.

His questing hands traveled down her flat belly and lower.
He hitched up her skirt so he could caress her between her legs. She wore black
lace panties, a last-minute decision she was now glad she’d made. She could
feel the heat of him through the barely-there fabric. He stroked her until she
was wet and panting.

With a sharp tug, he ripped away her lace panties and
dropped the ruined bit of fabric on the ground.

“Hey!” she cried out in surprise, an automatic protest to
losing an expensive piece of lingerie. But her attention quickly returned to
how he was touching her. Horace parted her soft curls and eased his forefinger
deep into her, taking what had been left of her breath away with that one bold
move.

He wanted her. She could taste his desire in the way he
parted her lips and kissed her so deeply that she had trouble figuring out
where she ended and he began. And his heat/her heat licked at her like flames
in response to the way he was using his hand and his mouth, mimicking what he
planned to do with the rock-hard arousal pressed against her belly. She found
herself panting with anticipation.

The snig of his pant’s zipper sent a shiver of delight down
her spine. Faith never really expected to her birthday wish to come true. And
not like this. Sex with her dream guy on her birthday. Sex against the brick
wall…in a smelly alleyway next to a dumpster. Her panties torn and discarded on
the ground. This was so, so not like her. But then again, neither was following
a man around a nightclub like some besotted groupie.

With Horace, she became a different woman. Her hungers made
her vulnerable in a way she’d never been vulnerable before. Every part of her
throbbed with desire.

When he eased her skirt up higher on her thighs, she wrapped
her legs around his waist. The tip of his wide erection caressed her moist
opening. She pressed against him, letting him stretch her. He grabbed hold of
her hips and held her before she could lower herself completely onto him. He
held her suspended, throbbing for him and praying that he wouldn’t change his
mind. With one quick thrust, he buried himself inside her all the way to the
hilt.

She gasped. She’d been impaled. He’d put her in a sexual
position she avoided. It made her too vulnerable. Around men, she liked to be
in control. Calling all the shots. But with Horace’s strong hands on her hips,
he guided her, and she rode him. He set the rhythm. He dictated the pace. An
excruciatingly, frustratingly, wonderfully slow pace.

She could feel every inch of him move inside her as he
raised and lowered her. Faith’s heat made him hot and wet. And he made sure
every slick inch of him rubbed against her, teasing her.

But he held her release at bay. The calculating glint in his
eyes told her he knew what he was doing to her. He continued to tease, taking
her to the brink but not letting her fall over the edge. She cried out in
frustration and wiggled against him.

He lifted her, holding her so that her gentle folds barely
touched the tip of his shaft.

“You wanted to play games,” he said. The heat of his voice
caressed her neck, making her tremble. She gyrated, trying to wrench control of
the situation, but his hold on her kept her pinned to the wall and unable to
find the release she was growing more and more desperate to have.

He kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth,
mercilessly taking his time. He must have known that he was making her crazy.
Her mind and body throbbed as one—an inescapable need that demanded to be
sated.

“
Please
,” she whimpered into his mouth. “Please, don’t
make me beg.”

“Why not?” he murmured. A wicked smile teased his lips.

“Because…because…I’m going to die…” She was barely able to
get out between her short, halting breaths. “I…I’ll do anything…anything…you…want…”

One corner of his mouth kicked up a little higher. His right
brow rose too. “Anything?” He lowered her slightly so his arousal pressed into
her. “
Anything
?”

She nodded. Horace had done this to her. He’d made her lose
her mind. The Faith Summers she knew up until a heartbeat ago would have never
pledged herself so completely to a man without a wedding ring waiting for her
finger.

“I want to mark you.” There was a tremor in his voice. His
gaze grew dark and intense.

Faith didn’t know how he’d meant to mark her. But it didn’t
matter. In the heat of her need, she didn’t even pause to wonder. She simply
nodded.

“Yes. Please. Yes.”

With a look of satisfaction, Horace impaled her completely.
And gave her what she wanted, what she desperately needed. He moved her hips
faster and faster, pumping her. And as he’d promised, he lowered his head and
sucked on her left breast.

The pressure of his lips grew stronger. He licked her
nipple. And then scraped the tight nub with his teeth. Nipping her. Biting her.
Teasing her with a sensation that was a confusing blend of agony and ecstasy.
And it felt so intense, so real, that she struggled for a smooth breath and
heightened her need for release.

Her body grew tighter and tighter, begging to be dropped
over the edge of bliss. His blunt teeth tore through the sensitive skin just
above her nipple as she threw her head back and cried out. He didn’t let up. He
suckled her blood while pumping into her, riding her orgasm. She felt his
arousal grow thicker, fuller, pulsing inside her. Stretching her. Filling her
completely.

It was too much, too much. She struggled against him.

Horace released her breast and kissed her. But he wouldn’t
let Faith escape as she rode on the wave of a second orgasm, one that he shared
with her. The heat of his seed scorched her womb.

Faith wrapped her arms around his neck and held on to him…

Forever
.

* * * *

Forever
.

It felt as if her heart would never slow down. Horace kept
Faith pressed against the hard brick wall outside his club for a little while
longer before he gently lowered her onto her wobbly legs. To support her,
Horace wrapped his arms around her waist and swung himself around so he could
lean against the wall, and she could continue to press her head against his
warm, safe chest.

He feathered kisses over her temple and down her cheek.
Then, with a deep sigh, Horace gently caressed the angry red mark he’d put on
her breast. The sore skin underneath his fingertips tingled. He’d marked her.
She now belonged to him.

Faith had no idea what such a thing meant to him. Or to her.

It should have frightened her. She didn’t do relationships
with controlling men. And she’d never been the type to let a man put his mark
on her, not even a temporary mark. This was so not like her.

But when he touched her, she tightened her arms around his
chest and let herself sink into his heat. For this one magical moment, she
belonged to Horace. Faith had never felt so cherished, so complete.

It was as if she’d been touched by fate. Everything about
this crazy night felt right—natural. Faith ran her hand down the side of
Horace’s rough, stubbly chin. She pictured a lifetime of nights with Horace as
crazy and wonderful as this one. Could this be what love felt like?