He positioned himself, and then he started to ease his way into her.
“You’re so tight,” he said, his voice ragged. “Relax for me.”
“I’m trying,” she gasped. “You’re too big.”
“No. You just need to take it easy.”
She took several deep breaths. “Okay. I’m relaxed.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Instead of pressing forward, he withdrew. She caught him closer, panicked that he had changed his mind.
“No,” she said, clutching at him. “Don’t leave me.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere. Trust me.”
He found the little nubbin hidden between the protective folds of flesh and stroked it again. Almost immediately she felt herself begin to soften and open.
“Yes,” she said. “Oh, yes, please.”
He continued to stroke her until her pleas turned to demands. Then he rolled onto his back, taking her with him.
She sprawled on top of him, knees on either side of his thighs. He found her again with his hand, using thumb and forefinger to drive her mad.
The climax struck out of nowhere. She was unprepared for it because she had never felt anything like it in her life. Pulsing waves of exquisite energy swept through her, releasing a burst of sheer euphoria.
She heard someone scream softly in the shadows. Belatedly she realized that she was the screamer.
Davis gripped her buttocks and pushed himself into her in one smooth, relentless move. He thrust twice, three times and then he went quartz-hard all over. She opened her eyes to look down at him and saw his mouth open in a grimace that could have been either great pain or unbelievable pleasure.
He roared.
There was no other word for it. It was the cry of an exultant male claiming his mate.
She had time to thank her lucky amber that none of her relatives were in the room next door before she collapsed along the length of him.
A LONG TIME LATER HE ROUSED HIMSELF, ROLLED AWAY from her, and flopped back onto the pillows. There was enough emerald-tinted light coming through the sliding glass door to show her that he was smiling with masculine satisfaction.
“You always do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Scream.”
She blushed furiously. Well, at least with all the shadows he couldn’t see her turning bright pink.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled.
He levered himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. “Why don’t you know?”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“Screamed?”
“Had an orgasm.”
He was clearly taken back. “Are you sure?”
“It isn’t the kind of thing you make a mistake about, is it?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Trust me, I’ve never felt anything that delicious before in my life. I’d have remembered.”
“Sorry you had to wait this long, but I have to tell you I’m very glad I was around when it finally happened.”
“Me, too.” She wound her arms around his neck. “You think maybe we could try it again? Make sure it wasn’t a one-time thing?”
“My pleasure.”
He bent his head and covered her mouth with his own. Energy flared once more in the shadowed room.
A LONG TIME LATER, SHE AWOKE WITH A START, AWARE that she was being carried in a man’s arms. Fear lanced through her, bringing with it memories of the terrible night that Benson Landry had carried her into the hotel room, pretending to the staff that she was intoxicated.
“No.” Instinctively she started to struggle.
The arms that cradled her tightened, imprisoning her against a hard male chest.
“Take it easy,” Davis said gently. “You’re okay. You’re just dreaming.”
The reassuring sound of his voice and the familiar pulse of his psi waves drove out the brief panic. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
“What are you doing?” she asked, still disoriented.
“Taking you back to your bed.”
That didn’t sound promising.
“Why?” she asked, bewildered now.
“I like to sleep alone,” he said quietly. He put her down onto her bed and straightened. “Don’t take it personally.”
She was mortified. He might be perfect for her, but in spite of what they had just shared, the feeling was not reciprocated. It was not as if he had not warned her that he was not interested in long-term relationships, she reminded herself. And it was not as if there were rules against one-night stands for very good reasons. Still, kicking her out of his bed before the night was over seemed a little extreme.
She felt humiliated. She was also furious.
“Got news for you,” she said. “I am taking it personally.”
She pulled the covers up to her chin, rolled onto her side, and turned away from him.
He did not leave immediately. She could feel him standing there, looking down at her. She held her breath, wondering if he would change his mind.
“Good night,” he said very quietly.
He went back into his own room. She lay awake for a long time, looking out the window at the glowing green spires and towers of the Dead City. Araminta hopped up onto the bed, cuddled close, and made soft little sounds.
He’s Mr. Almost Perfect, Celinda reminded herself, not Mr. Perfect. Get used to it.
She finally went to sleep.
Chapter 17
BENSON LANDRY’S PHONE REZZED LOUDLY. HE HAD JUST disengaged from the luscious, energetic, extremely inventive blonde, and he was enjoying the pleasant ennui of the aftermath. He was in no mood to take the call. But there weren’t many people who had his private number. When someone used it, there was always a reason.
He rolled away from the blonde, sat up on the edge of the bed, and reached for the phone.
“Landry,” he said. “This had better be important.”
“If you will give me five minutes of your valuable time, I think you will find what I have to say very interesting, Mr. Landry.”
The voice was cultured, resonant, authoritative. It was also unfamiliar. That was enough to rez a slew of alarm bells.
“Who is this?” he asked sharply.
“My name is Dr. Titus G. Kennington. I believe you and I have an acquaintance in common. A woman named Celinda Ingram.”
His insides went cold. He reached back and gave the blonde a hard shove.
