Page 172 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Pete’s next sound wasn’t nearly so chill—as I’d tugged his flies loose. He clasped my wrists, tried backing away from me. “What’s gotten into you, Shorty?”
Eyes on the rugged prize, I advanced back into Pete’s bubble, trapping our hands between our bodies. “I was hopingyouwould.”
Pete’s amusement faded. His Adam’s apple bobbed. His grip around my wrists lost some resolve. “This—this isn’t like you.”
“Mm,” I hummed, transfixed by the divot between his collarbones. I went up on tiptoes in the watery sand and pressed my pulsing lips to that very spot. I touched my tongue to his skin, so hot, wet, and salty. “Right now, there is no me without you.”
Pete stilled like I was a carnivore who’d only see him if he moved. But I sawallhis magnificence anyway.
My head spinning, I snared his eyes in an all-encompassing gaze like the ones we’d shared the night before. The soap fell from my hand, plunking into the lake, forgotten. I took Pete’s handsome, strained face, his dripping beard scratchy against my palms, and moaned with yearning as I rose again to quench my thirst and taste his lips.
Shuddering, Pete wrenched back. “Shorty—”
I tried again.Needinghim.
He jerked aside. “Amy. Stop.” Pete had to be in denial because even as he rejected my advances, his pulse throbbed in his neck, his breath grew heavy, and his eyes blackened with panic-infused hunger. “You don’t want this.”
“Yes, I do,” I whimpered, managing to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you?”
“I—” He rasped and turned his head aside. His lethal fingers bit into my skin. And it feltsogoodnot to be handled like glass. “Something’s wrong. Something’sverywrong.”
My voice hitched as I answered, “But it feels so right.” Our lips touched like the flutter of butterfly wings, and I shivered, nudging his ribs with my peaked nipples.
A more than sexy growl rewarded the nudge. “Damnit, woman—”
Oh, fuck me. He called mewoman.
“I cannot allow this—”
I strangled his gallant rejection into an animal groan by cupping his manhood. Hard. And, oh, he most assuredlydidwant to do this. The heat and power of him through his leather trousers burned my hand like a branding iron.
I swore I heard the whiplash of his snapping restraint. I barely had a moment to catch my breath before the predator I’d unleashed fisted his hand in my damp hair and crushed my mouth with his.
My heart did a cartwheel as Pete devoured me like milk after cookies. His demanding tongue surged past my lips, flooding my senses, making my mind reel. And lord save me, my soul sang out in joy at such a thorough kiss. At being kissed how I’d always wanted to be kissed. At how he groped my ass and pressed his blatant arousal into my stomach. There was no gentleness between us. Just raw, aggressive, primal passion.
Growling myself, I clung to his neck and leapt to wrap my legs around his waist, squeezing his ripples and ridges between my thighs. I nearly trilled like a gospel soloist when he responded, squeezing my naked bottom. And I didn’t spare a thought for what Pete might think of the little there was to hold. For he seemed pleased as punch by the shape of me as he hiked my soaked shift higher off my ass, groping me. The shift became a rumpled scrap of linen between us as he bore me toward the shore, water churning in his haste.
I did sing out when we careened to the sand together. Pete’s massive bulk locked me beneath him, the ground conforming to my body, and I reveled in the breathtaking weight of him upon me. Goddess, Ilovedthat he wasn’t scared he’d break me.
ButIwas scared. Scared in a way that thrilled me, like I was in line for a roller coaster. The predator above me was a force to be reckoned with, and he had me on my back and vulnerable to what seemed a ravenous appetite for dominion. I felt it in his consuming kiss, the way he yanked my shift above my breasts, and in the way his hips ground into me. He was going to take me, conquer me. And I was going to fuckinglovethat too.
Gripping Pete’s unkempt hair, I arched against him, surrendering to him. To myself and everything I’d always wanted but had been afraid to ask for.
Both Pete and I frenzied to get his trousers down off his tensed buttocks. The saturated leather resisted despite his loosened flies. Pete snarled an oath at them against my throat as I tried shoving them off with my toes.
Those damn pants were the only reason we didn’t end up in full on missionary before the torrent of water hit us. Not from the lake. From a cauldron. And the deluge was so cold, it made Pete and I gasp and break apart.
Both still stupid and wanton, we gawked up at the cauldron wielder—Sedge. He hunched over us, heaving, his gleaming fangs bared. He dropped his iron pot—our iron pot—the one we’d bought with our stolen seeds from Howlite, and I’d used earlier to sterilize us some drinking water. “Get up, you dolts!” he scolded. “Before you draw the entire pack!”
“The pack?” Pete croaked, his eyes glazed.
Nostrils flaring, Sedge nabbed something off the ground by his feet. A head. A hideous, grotesque head with gray, wizened skin and curling ram horns. It’s droopy eyes had crossed in death, its throat severed in a jagged, gory line. Its enormous tongue lolled from its slackened jowls.
I stared in horror, sex haze shattering.
Cursing, Pete rose off me. “Incubi.”
“Aye.” Sedge dropped the head at his feet. Wiping his brow, he bent and retrieved a blood-drenched short sword. “Took all my shadows to subdue it, Pete. You two must have been feeding it well.”
