Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1) (16 page)

She looked startled. “Uh, Noah—”

“Just let me look,” he coaxed. “I was a little too rough with you. I lost control. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I told you I was OK. Why don’t you just believe me?”

“Maybe I just need an excuse to put my face between your legs. Stop wiggling.”

“But—”

“Shhh. I’m concentrating.”
And so he did, holding her graceful thighs wide open, staring at her muff. He needed no light to see every detail. He lost himself in rapt, horndog contemplation. She looked beautiful. Hot and rosy and fuckable.

Temptation overwhelmed him. He spread her lips gently with his fingers, holding them open, and thrust his tongue deep into her.

She cried out in startled pleasure, arching. She was so lithe and strong. Noah stilled her with his hand, resting it on her belly until she lay back with a gasp of fresh pleasure and submitted to his hungry lavish licking.

He lapped upward, trailing his tongue lazily over her slit up to the hood of her clitoris, caressing the taut, pearly bud with his lips and assessing how her sig reacted. A hot pink glow edged with violet pulsed with delight as he tongue-fucked her. Oh, yeah. More of that. Give it to him. He got back to the clit, suckled it. Long, gentle pull
s.
She convulsed, with a gasp. He could do this for hours. Cheerfully.

She shivered and gasped, whimpering with pleasure at each eager plunge of his tongue into her tight, slick hole.

Didn’t take long. In fact, it was over way too soon. After just a couple of minutes she went rigid as a long, violent orgasm throbbed through her.

He drank it in. Waited for the pulsing shimmers to ease down.

“My turn.” He settled between her legs. “I want to look at you while I’m inside you.”

Her muscles tightened. “Noah . . .”

He froze. “You still can’t bear for me to look at you while we have sex?” he asked. “After what just happened?”

“I . . . I don’t know why. I can’t—”

“I want to see your eyes. I want to watch your tits bounce, I want to play with your clit and watch the colors change on your skin. I want to tongue kiss your mouth while I fuck you. I want it all.”

“I don’t understand why you’re suddenly so angry,” she whispered.

“I’m not.” He ran his hand through his sweat-dampened hair, frustrated. Tempted to just mount up, push her past the fear barrier, deal with the aftermath later. He was confident he could make her come again.

But even as the thought flicked through his mind, she sensed it. He saw it in her eyes, her sig.

He’d promised that she was safe with him.

He lifted himself off her, fists clenched. “Roll over then,” he said harshly.

Her eyes widened at his tone. “I don’t respond well to orders.”

Shit. Asshole alert.
Grab a hook.

He closed his eyes, latched on. Counted slowly down from ten. Frigid waves, lapping on the icy shore. Glacial ice caves. Sea birds. Cold. Numbing cold.

“What are you doing?”

“Chilling . . . out.” After a brief pause, he added. “Hoping for a second chance.”

“Dick move,” she said.

“I know.”

He sensed her hesitating, then smiled to himself when the mattress dipped as she slowly rolled onto her belly.

Yeah. He’d gotten through that without derailing them. Thank God, because he was about to explode. He got into position, nudging her legs wider and nuzzled her graceful back. Pressed hot kisses against her spine. A silent apology.

Apology accepted, if her deep, shuddering intake of breath was any indication.

“Noah?” Her fingers dug into the crumpled sheets, bunching them.

“Don’t worry,” he muttered. “I’ve taken the edge off. I’ll do it right this time. Arch your back more.”

She didn’t argue. Just did it, and moaned softly as he nudged his cockhead against her slit, prodding himself into that tight, quivering clasp. Thrusting slowly, deeply inside, with a rasping groan of pure delight.

“Right,” she said, breathless.

She rocked back to meet each swiveling shove. He loved the sounds she made. She seemed so surprised by pleasure. Tension released inside her with every stroke of his dick, letting him deeper and deeper inside with each stroke. He ached to get rid of the condom and feel her, skin to skin.

She gave her pleasure to him like a gift. He stared down at his stiff, thick phallus pumping rhythmically into that snug, flowerlike opening. She was so generous, coming for him with crazy abandon. Letting him in so completely. Her depth and openness were insanely beautiful. He felt drunk on it.

He licked the sheen of moisture on her back. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured. “So hot. I love how deep you take me. Like being licked all over.”
He reached
around to caress the tight bud of her clit. She shuddered, panting sharply in the silence and moving eagerly against his petting fingers, whimpering with each heavy stroke.

Erotic heaven.

Who knew how long it would last. He had no data to compare this to. No clue what it might morph into without warning.

So he gave into it, steering her deeper into a dreamlike state of intense, shivering pleasure. Each sensual moment wonderful in itself, then softly giving way to the next one, just as fine.

She came twice more before he dared to ask. “Turn over now,” he urged. “Please. I want to come while I’m looking at you.”

Her body tensed. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t. Don’t take it personally. This is incredible. You’re the best.”

He swallowed his frustration. Dragged his aching dick out of her snug clasp.

“Maybe we should take a break,” he said.

She twisted around to look at him, alarmed. “Don’t you need to come?”

“I won’t die if I don’t.”

She reached down, gripping him. “But I want you to. I love the way it feels.”

“If I follow the rules. Your rules.”

She let go of him and edged away warily. “You’re angry at me.”

He shrugged as he peeled the condom off. “Don’t worry, I’ll still make you come.”

“You think that’s all I want?”

He got up and stalked into the bathroom to ditch the condom. Not without effort. His dick was absolutely unconvinced. Incredulous, even.

He headed back out, spurred on by a fresh surge of frustration. “Why do you hide from me?” he asked her. “Whoever you’re running from, I’m not him.”

She tossed the coverlet aside and got up, going over to the window. She stared out at the dark waters of the lake. “What do you want from me, Noah?”

The question was rhetorical, but the true answer just fell out.

“I want in.”

That was the truth. He wanted into the heart of her mysteries. To unravel her, master her, keep the keys, know the codes. All for his own greedy, possessive self.

The stab of visceral emotion triggered a sudden stress flashback. All at once, he felt the tight straps that the Midlands researchers had used to restrain him, cutting into his wrists and ankles while they fucked around with his brain.

No.
He fought down the hot flare of rage. He could not do this to Caro. She had her own demons to fight.

He rubbed his face, breathed in the chill of the ice cave before he dared to speak again. “Do you want me to fuck you again?” It came out like a snarl.

She’d tell him to get lost. It was what he deserved, for being such a jerk.

She just stood there, straight and dignified, silhouetted against the faint light from the window. With his infrared implants and his AVP, he saw every eyelash in fine detail, as well as the haunted doubt in her eyes, even in the darkness—but she couldn’t see his face.

Which was good. He didn’t want her to see that look in his eyes. That
oh-please-God-I’ll-do-anything-to-touch-you-again
look.

She gazed out at the wind-whipped trees. Her pose was regal. She glowed with bright cobalt blues, edged with a haze of gold. The darker it was, the better he could see an energy sig.

He came up behind her. The warmth of his body made contact with her slender back. He pressed a slow kiss on her shoulder. “Sorry,” he whispered.

She turned slowly, laying her hands on his chest, gently trailing over his scars. To his utter surprise, she sank down with a dancer’s sinuous grace, and gripped his stiff penis. She kissed and licked his cockhead, sucking him deeply, eagerly into her mouth. Using her hands to grip him, caress, squeeze, stroke as she did so.

He was almost afraid to touch her. The sensation was so intense, he could lose control of the strength of his grip. He hung onto himself, stroking her hair slowly.

So good, that honey-sweet suckling kiss, enveloping his shaft. He couldn’t decide which erotic spectacle drove him crazier: taking her from behind, or having her kneel, voluptuously sucking his dick with that soft, full, luscious mouth.

Her excitement spurred his own. Her skill was unbelievable.

He didn’t last long, overstimulated as he was. He felt the energy tightening inside him. Tried to ask if he could come in her mouth.

Too late. The storm broke. He was tossed, wrenched by a violent orgasm.

He poured himself into her with a shout, his explosion melding with colors that had no name but Caro.

He somehow stayed on his feet, trying not to sway. Grabbed her upper arms, and lifted her to her feet. Drawing her into a never-let-you-go embrace.

They stayed that way for a while. Lost in bliss.

The intercom buzzed. She pulled away abruptly, startled. The moment was broken. He missed it already.

“Delivery,” he reassured her gently. “From the restaurant. No rush. First the gate, then the driveway. But I have to push the buttons.”

She hugged herself, shivering.

He pulled his big fleece robe off its hook, and draped it around her. “After we eat—how about a bath for two?
”

She nodded. The robe was huge on her. The hem brushed the ground. She looked stunning in it. He threw on sweat pants, a T-shirt, and started the bath before going to pay for the food.

Coming out, he saw Caro looking out at the lake again, drawn once more to the sight of the glittering dark water. He cast a worried glance her way, wondering what she was thinking.

He hoped he hadn’t pushed her too hard.

Chapter 12

“Before we get too distracted,” Caro mumbled around her bite of roasted rosemary potatoes.

“Yes?”

“Do I hear the tub faucets running?
I’d hate for your bathroom to flood.”

“Not a problem.” Noah piled more food on his own plate. “There’s an automatic water-level and temperature sensors. Not bathtime yet. Have some more steak.”

She swallowed her bits. “Mmm. Am having.” She stuck her fork into a juicy pink-centered slice and lifted it to her plate.

The food was incredible. She hadn’t tasted such savory flavors in so long. She’d gotten used to a constant gnawing feeling, and the juicy steak and fresh salads and sides overwhelmed her senses. The bread was crusty and golden, hot enough to melt the fresh butter. It made her feel almost faint.

For a few minutes, there was no conversation. She just stole appreciative glances at his big chest in that T-shirt, admiring the faint jut of masculine nipples. She herself was swaddled in yards of fleece. Except for bed-tousled hair and her face, there wasn’t much of her to see.

Although she looked forward to getting naked again. Tonight, she wanted to at least play at being whole. Just a normal woman, doing things normal women did. Hooking up with an interesting guy, taking him to bed, seeing where it went.

She’d spin this hot, lovely thing out for as long as she possibly could.

It was going to have to last her.

She had nothing to share but her body. Nothing any sane, healthy man would want, anyhow. If he knew the horrors inside her head, he’d be gone in a panicked flash.

He served her a large slice of an apple puff pastry. Cream sauce trickled down over the cinnamony apples inside. It smelled so good, tears sprang to her eyes. When pastry made you weep, you were in very bad shape. But she fully intended to devour every flaky crumb.

“Can I ask you a question?” she ventured.

His gaze flicked to her face. “For a price.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Never mind.”

“All right. I’ll give you this one for free,” he conceded. “But the next one you barter for. And I drive a hard bargain.”

“This, from the guy who paid three thousand bucks for a belly dance.”

He laid his hand on hers. “Worth it,” he said. “Just for a chance to talk to you.”

She almost laughed at that ridiculous statement, but stopped herself. Something in his eyes silenced her. He wasn’t bullshitting. She knew that vibe. He was for real.

It felt more like he was calling to her, on some level. From someplace very far. She saw the silent longing in his eyes. It pulled at her from the inside.

Oh, please. Get a grip. She was getting mushy and needy. Hormone overload. She tried to bring it back to light
banter.
“So talk is what you had in mind?”

He grinned. “I won’t apologize for what I had in mind. What’s your question?”

She had to think for a minute to retrieve it, she’d gotten so distracted. She looked around the muted elegance of his dining room, at the feast on the table. “You said you grew up poor. How come you ended up living in a mansion and driving a Porsche?”

He shoveled some of the pastry onto his plate. “Big question. Long answer.”

“You don’t have to answer. I know, it’s not fair.”

“Really not.” He ate a bite or two, and pushed his plate away. “But so what.”

“Hey, nothing you could say could make me judge you,” she said. “We all have to start somewhere.”

I’m not sure you’d really want to know how I got started.” His voice sounded flat.

Yikes. She’d hit a nerve. Caro set down her fork and dabbed at her mouth with the napkin. “I’m sorry. If you’d rather not talk about—”

“My parents were con artists. Mostly small time. My dad taught my mom everything he knew. They were a team. I got taken along when they needed a prop.”

“What for?” She was genuinely shocked. “How old were you?”