Free Hunting Karoly by Marie Treanor Page A

said nothing. “It’s burned,” I said, frowning with the glimmerings of understanding.
    “A small contretemps with the powers of daylight.”
    “That’s how Dog got out yesterday. You lifted him out and burned your hands in the sunlight. I could smell your singed skin still on him.”
    Still he said nothing, just bent his head closer to mine until my stomach filled with panic, with wildly fluttering butterflies. Where, for God’s sake, was the terror I knew I should be suffering? And now I thought of it I could feel what was definitely not his sporran growing hard against my stomach. Instantly, my own nether regions responded with a flood of moisture.
    “Why did you do that for Dog? Why aren’t you killing me?”
    “Because I want you,” he whispered, his lips so close to mine that I could feel their every movement. “I want to taste you, all of your sweet body… Ask me again to fuck you.”
    Again. He said ask me again…!
    “Jesus, you were there.”
    “No. I just made you dream.” His lips touched mine, so lightly I barely felt them and yet something leapt inside me as if it had been the deepest kisses, with tongues.
    Struggling against my own weakness as much as my own inability to understand, I said faintly, “How?”
    “With the kiss…” Softly still, his mouth closed on mine, as cool and silky smooth as I remembered it and even more unbearably sensual, deliberately parting my lips and then leaving them so that I looked as if I was begging, open-mouthed, for more. And dear God, I was. “It allowed me the connection, so that I could pleasure you in your dream. And I did…” His hand cupped my breast, releasing a new flood of moisture between my legs. Casually, his thumb flickered across my straining nipple. “I felt all of your long, sweet orgasm as if it were my own, every twinge of arousal, every blissful convulsion, every after pang of pleasure. And I want to give you more. I want to sink my cock in your wetness and slake my own thirst. So ask me again…”
    I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything at all, so heavy with desire had my body suddenly become. I saw two buttons pop off my shirt as his hand delved inside and brought out my naked breast. His touch was killing me. Every tweak and pull of his long, clever fingers on my nipple shot arrows of desire straight downward. And he knew it. His eyes moved between my face and what he was doing to my breast. He must have felt my ragged breathing, the trembling of my whole body, the moan of mingled pleasure and desire that I was trying desperately to suppress. Deliberately, he brought out my other breast and as he palmed it, caressingly, cupped it in his hand, I swallowed convulsively. My eyes closed with the pleasure, my head fell back against the glass of the balcony door. I didn’t even think of anybody being in the flat on the other side of it. I had long ago forgotten why I had followed him here. My body, not my head, was in charge now.
    His hands left my breasts and slid around to grip my waist instead. I gasped as he lifted me easily off my feet, bringing my breasts closer to his mouth so that he could lick my nipple. Slowly, he twirled his tongue around it then sucked it into his mouth and rolled it sweetly between his lips while his tongue continued to torture it. The moan escaped at last and, hearing it, he smiled around my nipple. He let me go so that I slid down the glass door back onto my feet. At the same time, he stepped forward and pressed his lower body into me. Through his kilt and my skirt, I felt his erection huge and hard as rock.
    “Take my cock in your hands,” he whispered, “and ask me again to fuck you.”
    My lips moved soundlessly, with what purpose even I didn’t know, and in any case words were no use to me. Instead, I reached up with my mouth and latched on to his, pushing my tongue inside to explore the inner silkiness, running it over his teeth, feeling the sharpness of those wicked, pointed incisors. Fear