Page 21 of Try As I Smite
She took over the kiss, nibbling at his lower lip before making her way along his jaw in a series of kisses both sexy as hell but so sweet, the dichotomy only turning him on more.
He was happy to let her lead. For the moment. And damned if that wasn’t a decision that had his dick throbbing in time to the elevated rate of his heart. Because what she did with her lips against his… It was as though each brush drew his soul closer to the surface, reaching for hers, sensation spiraling outward and driving the tension through his muscles until he buzzed with it.
Small, soft hands swiftly undid the buttons of his shirt, slipping inside to smooth over his chest. Nothing tentative or hesitant about her touch. All woman. A siren in his arms.
“Fuck,” he growled, and took the control back.
Owning the kiss, driving into her and demanding a response from her that she seemed only too willing to give, he trailed a questing finger down her neck, hooking it in the collar of her blouse to slip it and the strap of her bra off one shoulder, baring her skin to him. He followed with his mouth and she tipped her head back and to the side, giving him access.
Like an animal, he bit into the sexy curve of her shoulder, overwhelmed with the need to…what? Mark her? Only shifters did that shit.
He jerked his head up, staring first at the mark he’d left puckering her skin, then dragged his gaze to hers, watching her through fevered eyes, obsessed with every nuance of her flushed cheeks and parted lips, the way she pressed her body in to him. A wildness wound about her. As though she’d ceded all that precious control to him.
Damned if that didn’t fill him with the need to protect that favor, offer pleasure in exchange for power, truly giving her the control. Take care of her every fucking need.
Gods she was gorgeous. “Delilah,” he murmured.
The name fit her in this moment. Historically, Delilah had been a temptress, and she was every inch that, breasts thrust out, back arched, the musky scent of sex blending with her light floral scent.
Her dark eyes widened on a gasp. A flash of vulnerability lit her gaze before her expression shuttered, long-lashed lids hiding her from him.
No. The primitive imperative inside him eddied and shifted, the need to possess and at the same time share, expanding within him, making his chest tight. He didn’t want a quick fuck with this woman, a tussle in the sheets to sate mutual need. He wanted…
Damned if he knew what.
“Don’t do that. Don’t hide.” He released his grip on her hair to smooth his hand down her back, pressing her body in to his, thrusting his hips in to her so she couldn’t mistake the hard ridge of his pulsing erection.
“I—” Her tongue peeked out, moistening lips already glistening and swollen from his kisses.
Then she stepped back. The way she let go of him in a deliberate, jerking motion, both hands held up, hit him like a bad spell.
Delilah shook her head, her long hair rippling out behind her, her body still all fire while her expression turned icy. “You don’t know everything about me, Alasdair. You’ll—”
“Still want you.” He stepped in to her again, cupping the back of her neck, willing her to stop shutting him out. “I’ll still want you, dammit.”
The words tripped over themselves to get out of his mouth, even as shock rippled through him at the impact. When had lust for a woman he’d set to keep tabs on—and only that—turned into a need that seemed tied to more than just gorging himself on her? Into something…deeper?
Blackness consumed his vision before either of them could react to the stark admission.
Only this time, somewhere in the darkness, Delilah disappeared from his arms, like smoke in the wind.
“No!” he yelled, panic giving him a good kick.
Her floral scent lingered even as he reached out in the black, futilely searching for her. Before he could call her name, light returned. Alasdair sat perfectly still, temporarily disoriented, taking in his surroundings. More than familiar, he had to ask himself if he was in the past or now in the present.
Alasdair sat in the circular room where the Covens Syndicate met weekly. Situated on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada mountains in California, the modern behemoth the covens had chosen to erect fit the image he projected himself. Slick. In control. But with hidden corners and edges. Constructed from cement, steel, and glass, the structure was a marvel of modern-day architecture. Meant to intimidate all. Not just the witches and warlocks they governed, but anyone who might think about coming at them. Plenty to fear in this world.
He didn’t have to turn to know the waiting view outside the windows at his back was incredible. This room sat over the tops of the trees and craggy mountaintops to the towering peak of Half Dome in Yosemite in the distance. He sat at a long metal and glass table facing the doorway. Where he always sat. Surrounded by the other members of the Syndicate. Powerful mages all, including his own sister, Hestia. A group of witches and warlocks of various ages, their faces all cast in blank judgment, which was nothing new.
Where’s Delilah?
A brisk knock at the mahogany doors sounded. “Enter,” he called. Or the memory of him called.
This felt like it had in that alleyway when he’d witnessed the entire scene from inside himself. Observing, remembering, and experiencing all at the same time.
Delilah strode in, dressed to send his libido into overdrive, appearing her usual elegant self, her dark hair coiled at her nape, loose tendrils framing her face, lust-inducing figure set off beautifully in black slacks and a cream-colored cashmere sweater that he itched to push down over her shoulders. Only now that he knew what lurked beneath that icy control, all he could see was her fire. The taste of her skin, a new memory, layered over the old memory, and damned if his initial reaction that day—one of unwanted, ill-timed desire—didn’t ratchet up a whole other level.
Like the way getting closer to a lightning strike increased the intensity of every sense. The sound louder, flash brighter, the sizzle of pure energy tingled along his skin.
