Wicked Pleasure (24 page)

He supported himself on his forearms as he whispered in her ear, “I'm going to lift you onto the couch, and then we'll play.”

She felt the word
play
as a soft expulsion of breath that tickled her ear and sounded an erotic rhythm along her nerve endings.

He stood, lifted her easily into his arms, and deposited her gently in the middle of the large couch. Her feet were no longer planted firmly on the ground, physically or symbolically. She lay back and looked up at him.

Kim knew she should be contributing some meaningful conversation, but for the life of her she couldn't force words past lips that had a whole other agenda in mind. Who knew she couldn't have a full-blown lust attack and talk at the same time?

He straightened, turned his back to her, and then stripped off the rest of his clothes. It wasn't a slow peeling to excite her. He ripped the clothes from his body with barely contained violence. And something dark and primal in her responded to his ferocity.

Kim slid her gaze the length of his body. Even though he'd healed overnight, she could still see the faint marks left by Liz. She wanted to trace those marks with her tongue, erasing the memory that went with them. “Does your back still hurt?”

He turned to face her. “I've hurt worse.” His easy smile belied the tension that stretched taut between them. “I heal more quickly than a human would.” Once more he was reminding her that he wasn't human and giving her a chance to back out. The wary look in his eyes said he half expected her to break and run.

Sheesh, if the tension stretched any tighter, she'd be able to pluck it like a guitar string and watch it vibrate. Luckily, it didn't come to that because he moved.

Brynn lowered himself to the couch in one lithe motion and knelt facing her. But not close. For some reason, he'd left lots of space between them. Maybe he thought by giving her room, by not looming, he'd relax her.

No chance. He was within easy stalking distance. And the hungry glitter in his eyes assured her that
stalking
was the right word, as in large, sexy creature of the night.

She stuffed a red velvet throw pillow under her head to prop it up so she could see him better. After all, there was so very much to see.

Instead of pouncing on her, he raised his arms above his head and stretched. His body was a supple flow of hard muscles moving beneath smooth, golden skin.

He was fully exposed, every yummy inch of his body shouting,
Look at me.
Hey, sounded like a good idea to her. She inventoried his torso, taking notes for future pleasure excursions. Hard male nipples, ripe for nibbling. Sexy little navel, perfect fit for tip of tongue. Six-pack abs, delicious hills and valleys her mouth could travel until it got to his best part.

His best part.
His sacs hung large and heavy between his strong thighs, his cock jutted thick and long, and sexual energy flowed from him like a flood-swollen river. It wouldn't do any good to swim upstream, so she went with the dominant sensual current. All six feet plus of him.

Touch. It became the most vital sense to her. She wanted to roll around and coat herself in it. Touch touch touch.

“What are you thinking, Kim?” His voice was a raspy purr, a reminder that he really was a sexual animal.

“I'm thinking that if I don't get to touch you soon, you'll have a really ticked-off demon hunter on your hands.” She glanced around the room. “Do you think they'd mind if I sharpened my claws on the furniture?”

His laughter rolled over her, warm and real. She wondered how many times he'd laughed with a woman during the compulsion. She'd guess none.

His amusement ended as if he'd thrown an off switch. Still kneeling, he leaned forward to support his upper body with his hands. He watched her. His hair hung tangled and beautiful around his face, the shadow of his beard and those gleaming eyes increasing the aura of danger.

And then he crept toward her. He should've looked awkward crawling on his hands and knees. He didn't. He moved with the loose-limbed, fluid motion of a large predator, muscles rippling beneath all that bare skin.

When he stopped beside her, she exhaled sharply. Kim hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath.

“Sit up.” He still didn't smile.

She didn't smile either. This wasn't party time with Mr. Ordinary. Brynn had lived for five hundred years. Five hundred years of pleasing women. You had to respect that. She sat up.

Brynn drew her top over her head with the same controlled violence he'd used while undressing himself. He was good at the push-pull thing. The tiny germ of fear he'd planted with his ferocity pushed her away, but at the same time he pulled her to him with a sexuality so potent she could taste it on the back of her tongue. It was thick, hot, and rich.

He paused to breathe deeply, and she saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You make my beast roar without even trying. Do you have any idea how sexy you look lying on this damned couch? No, I guess not. It seems strange feeling this aroused without the compulsion driving me.” He fumbled at her waist in the first clumsy movement she'd seen him make.

As she shifted her hips so he could skim everything off from her waist down, she removed her bra. Kim was too excited, too impatient, to wait for him to do it. She lay back on the red pillow, and he followed her down, his lips only a breath away from hers.

“Mmm. I sort of like your beast.” She reached up to cup his cheek, and he turned his mouth into her palm.

Kim felt his tongue slide across her skin and shivered at the warm, wet glide of sensual pleasure. And when he covered her mouth with his, she was more than ready.

He traced her mouth with his tongue, and she parted her lips, welcoming him in. He tasted of sex. No exotic flavor, just the heated essence of desire. Tempting. Irresistible.

When he finally broke the kiss to nibble a path down her neck to the swell of her breast, she mourned the loss. But as long as he still had his mouth on her body, life was good.

She arched her back and murmured his name as he closed his lips over her nipple. Her murmur turned to a moan when he flicked the nipple with his tongue.

Kim grasped a fistful of his hair, holding him close to her breast, trying to make the sensations he was creating with his tongue and teeth go on, and on, and on. Every part of her being was so focused on her nipple and its joyous message of erotic satisfaction that for a moment she didn't realize Brynn was in her mind.

“What?” Even in her mind, his voice was a soft brush of seduction.

“Feel the total sexual experience.”
He moved down her body, his tongue trailing a warm, wet path over her stomach.
“Think about sinking into the red velvet, feel it surrounding you—red heating every inch of skin, velvet strands stroking your body.”
He ran his hand over her inner thigh to demonstrate the stroking concept.

“You weren't through with my breasts. I know you weren't.
They
know you weren't.” Even as she whined for her abandoned breasts, she had hopes for other body parts. “And I can't do the total experience thing. Whatever part of me you're touching at the moment takes precedence. Sorry, but I always compartmentalize. It's a weakness.”

He moved in one smooth motion to kneel between her legs. Slipping his hands beneath her buttocks, he lifted her.

“Whoa, wait. I haven't had a chance to touch you yet.” If he put his mouth on her
there
, it would be all over. Lots of pleasure for her complete with cheerleaders and marching band but nothing for him. That's not how it was supposed to be.

His soft laughter was like a warm slide of silk between her legs. He said nothing aloud as he put his mouth on her.

She was trying to remember all those things, but all she could feel was his tongue rubbing back and forth across the very tiny but ultrasensitive center of her personal sexual universe.

Her breathing quickened, her heart pounded, and if he was giving her any other instructions on how to enjoy the total experience, she didn't hear them.

A heavy come-and-get-me feeling was building low in her stomach, the open, wanting sensation of her body needing to be filled. She clenched around the image of his cock, thick and hard, sliding into her and then plunging in and out, in and out.

He slipped his tongue into her, mimicking the rhythm of sex while she arched her back in an attempt to get closer, so much closer, when closer wasn't possible. Her needy whimpers quickly became guttural cries, even as she tipped over the cliff and fell straight down, screaming all the way to the bottom.

And within that moment of climax, she felt his emotions— intense arousal, joy in her satisfaction, and something not completely formed, something warm and intimate.

When sight and sound finally made sense again, when her trembling stopped, and when her orgasm loosened its hold on her and faded to sporadic aftershocks, she looked at Brynn. What had that been about? Her orgasms usually built slowly and predictably. This one had come at her with the speed and intensity of a runaway train and blown her right off the tracks.

He'd lowered her to the couch and was watching her with cautious eyes. He was still hard. She'd fallen off the cliff alone. But Kim could fix that. And she didn't give a damn if she kept Lynsay waiting at the restaurant.

“You've always given, haven't you?” She sat up but didn't take her gaze from him.

His smile held the shadows of all those centuries. “It's what I do best, and I wanted you to have my best.”

Kim lay back down and studied the sweat-sheened glory of his body. “Pleasure isn't a one-way street for me. You haven't seen
my
best. But you will. Now.” She smiled. “Of course, I'll want you to enjoy the whole experience.”

He started to glance at his watch.

“Uh-uh. Don't worry about the time. It hasn't been an hour yet. And Lynsay will wait a little while before she calls me.” She reached for him.

Suddenly, Fo shouted an alarm from the kitchen. “Demon! I saw it! Told you, told you, told you. Come and get me
now
.”

That's when the piano began to play.

They turned to see a woman sitting at the piano. She wore a red dress that came straight out of an Old West saloon scene. Her hair was blond and piled high on top of her head, and her face said thirty-something, married, with two-point-five kids. Nothing extraordinary except for her eyes. Her hazel eyes gleamed with a demonic light she didn't attempt to hide. A gun rested atop the piano. The piano was playing “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.”

Most important item in that little collection of facts? The gun, definitely the gun.

Brynn stilled, a complete cessation of movement that radiated danger. “Where did you come from?”

“I was in the bathroom putting on fresh lipstick when you came in. Gotta look great before hitting the streets. But sex just revs me all up, so I stayed in there and listened.” She smiled as she picked up the gun. “Oh, did you mean where did I originally come from? You're in my head, so I think you know the answer to that, Brynn.”

“Demon.” The word was a quiet hiss.

He rolled off the couch and came to his feet with the same fluid grace that promised explosive speed and power. The woman's gaze never left him. She'd probably pegged him as the biggest threat in the room. Then again, you never knew with a demon. A naked Brynn was well worth possessing, in every sense of the word.

The woman's smile widened. “You betcha. Gotta tell you, you're the finest piece of naked tail I've seen since I crawled out of hell. Shame I have to blow you away.” She glanced at Kim. “Won't bother me at all to blow you away, bitch.”

“Why?” Brynn edged closer, and the woman's eyes narrowed.

“Wouldn't come any closer if I were you.” She seemed to relax a little as Brynn stopped. “You, your brothers, and the wizard have to go. You guys are the only ones who could stop us from taking over the city.” She looked smug. “You just sort of fell into my lap here. Didn't think I'd get a chance at any of you without going into the castle. Lucky me.”

While the demon's attention was fixed on Brynn, Kim crawled off the couch before sidling toward the doorway leading to the kitchen. She prayed Brynn would keep talking.
Please, please, don't rush her and get shot
.

Logically, Kim knew if Brynn was a demon, he'd only die if the woman took his head. But a gun could do the same amount of damage to a head as a sword. Come to think of it, why didn't the woman recognize that Brynn was a demon like her?
Never
like her. Kim knew that instinctively.

Brynn's eyes were cold and empty. No fear, no anger, nothing. “Not too powerful if you need a gun, are you? Bet you're fresh from the lowest rung in hell. Which archdemon called you through the portal?”

The demon's eyes narrowed at his insult. “The One Whose Name Cannot Be Uttered called all of us through.”

That tells us a lot
. Kim took another step toward the kitchen. Brynn never looked her way, but she knew he was aware of every step she took.

“What park employee's body did you possess?” Brynn didn't move, but Kim sensed his need to fling himself at the demon.

For only a second, the demon glanced down at the name tag pinned to her dress. In that moment, Kim made a break for the kitchen, and Brynn flung himself toward the piano.