Free BorntobeWild by Lynne Connolly Page A

warmed at her words with a possessive streak that
half scared him, half fascinated him. “Why?”
    “Why what?”
    “Why ‘kind of’?”
    She shook her head slightly. “I guess I’m a prude.”
    He laughed, holding her tight. “Not a word I’d associate
with you. Ever. Admit it, Cyn. You didn’t enjoy sharing me.”
    “No, I didn’t.”
    “And I didn’t enjoy sharing you. So we won’t, okay?”
    “Sure.”
    A sense of lightness invaded his body. Another point fought
for and won. He didn’t want anybody near her while he was by. The intensity of
his feelings shocked him, sent a new feeling of rightness through him.
    He kissed her and she kissed him right back, sweet now their
initial need had gone. They could fuck with the finesse and care he sometimes
brought to the act when the mood took him, as it did now.
    He let his hair, currently cut in a straight bob to a breath
below his jaw, trail across her skin as he nuzzled down her throat. He touched
the cord at the base with his lips before gently suckling the hollow in front.
She made a sound he felt rather than heard, watched the vibrations before
moving on to her breasts. He loved her breasts. Not big, not small, just right.
Who said ‘anything bigger than a handful is a waste’? Whoever it was, Riku
tended to agree. He couldn’t quite hold them completely in his hands, giving
him a sense of luscious abundance. Firm but not rigid, he caressed them,
enjoying the softness and took his time before he kissed them, keeping his
movements gentle but determined.
    “You’re a breast man?”
    “And a leg man and a waist man and a navel man.” He went farther
down, dipping his tongue into the part in question then kissing the skin inside
her hipbones. She squirmed and he laughed, sheer delight infusing him.
    “You remembered,” she said breathlessly.
    “That you’re very sensitive there? Yeah.” He’d remembered
that part a lot. Her voice sounded more musical, almost singing, a husky tone
adding an edge to her vocals. “Have you practiced?”
    “What?” She sounded startled, as if she thought he meant
something else.
    “Singing. Do you still sing?”
    A pause, a telling one. He didn’t know if she was wondering
if she should tell him the truth, or if she had to think about her answer. “I
do occasionally but not opera. Folk sometimes, English folk. And jazz. Classics
or whatever I’ve heard on the radio. Just because I gave up my career doesn’t
mean I have to give up the enjoyment I get when I sing.”
    He detected a wistful note. He was always good at
interpreting the meaning behind words, because of his highly trained musical
ear, he guessed.
    Enough. The scent of her wreathed him, maddening him into
taking hasty action. He reined back the urge to dive in and teased her instead,
kissing down the line between her navel and pubic bone. Taking his time,
reacquainting his mouth with her body. He licked her, allowing the tip of his
tongue to graze her clit. With a short “Ah!” she arched.
    “Sing to me now,” he commanded. “If you do I’ll eat you out
until you’re screaming.” He looked forward to it. Immensely. Curiosity took
him. Did she still possess that glorious voice? Even if it hadn’t pleased her
teachers it had delighted him. It still baffled him that they hadn’t grabbed
her while they had her.
    Their business but he wasn’t there for the aftermath. He was
here now.
    She sang. At first her voice quavered but he heard when she
opened her throat and then the sound soared. She launched into an old tune,
something he vaguely recognized from their time before. She’d always enjoyed
folk music. A pretty, joyful melody, a song of celebration.
    Entirely appropriate.
    Enraptured he fell on her, took what he’d denied himself and
sucked her clit fully into his mouth. He imitated the regular rhythms of
lovemaking, sucking and releasing, working her until the little pearl stiffened
and jutted out. That gave him the liberty of increasing