Chapter 7 The Forbidden Cousin - Chapter 7

The orgasm that had wracked Kethlen's body in the hallway had not been an end, but a rite of passage. A portal that, once crossed, could not be closed. The hoarse moan still echoing in her ears was the sound of her own innocence being devoured by desire. Gael did not release her. His arm, a band of muscle and warm skin, wrapped around her waist and carried her, her feet barely touching the floor, towards the tower room. The darkness of the hallway merged with the welcoming gloom of her sanctuary.

The door closed with a soft click, a final sound that isolated the universe within those four walls. Here, the moonlight streamed unimpeded through the large windows, painting the wooden floor and the four-poster bed in shades of silver and deep blue. It was against the door, however, that he pinned her again, his body a living fortress from which she had no desire to escape.

"Now," he growled, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was anything but consoling, "now it's my turn."

This kiss lacked the sweet exploration of the first. It was an affirmation of possession, a devouring hunger. His hands, the ones she had seen working with tools and that had brought her to ecstasy in the hallway, grabbed the hem of her t-shirt. The fabric, thin and fragile, offered no resistance. He pulled it up and over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it into some forgotten corner of the room. The cool night air against her bare skin made her nipples harden into painfully sensitive points.

His eyes, accustomed to the dark, devoured the sight. The round, firm breasts, the sinuous waist, the gentle curve of her belly. A guttural sound, almost a growl, escaped his throat.

"God, Kethlen..." his voice was unrecognizable, laden with raw, lecherous admiration. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

His hands rose and enveloped her breasts, not with gentleness, but with fervent possession. His rough thumbs rubbed over her erect nipples, and she cried out, her body arching into his touch. Pain and pleasure mixed into an indistinct line, every pinch, every squeeze sending electric shocks directly to her core, which throbbed with insatiable demand.

She was not passive. Her own hands were anxious, desperate. They went to the waistband of his shorts, her trembling fingers slipping inside the elastic, finding the hot, tense skin of his hips. She pushed the garment down, and he helped, kicking it away. And then he was naked before her, in the moonlight.

She couldn't suppress a gasping sigh. He was magnificent. The broad, defined torso, the wide shoulders, and between his legs, the physical proof of his desire for her. It was imposing, erect and proud, a weapon of pleasure that promised an ecstasy she was only beginning to comprehend. A prominent vein pulsed along its length, and a droplet of moisture beaded at the tip. A primitive impulse, a lewd curiosity, seized her. Her hand reached out, wrapped around him. The skin was like velvet over steel, hot and pulsing. He groaned deeply, his head falling back, his eyes closing for a moment of pure sensation.

"That... won't last long if you do that," he warned, his voice strained.

She let him go, but the power she had felt holding him, feeling him tremble under her touch, was intoxicating. He pulled her into another kiss, devouring, as his hands went to her silk panties. The fabric, already soaked and stretched, tore with a soft sound as he pulled it down her thighs. He left her naked, completely exposed and vulnerable before him.

"On the bed," he commanded, his voice a soft but undeniable order.

Kethlen retreated, her back to him, feeling his gaze burning her buttocks, the curve of her back. She lay down in the middle of the cool sheets, her skin prickling with anticipation. He followed her, crawling over her like a great feline, his body blocking the moonlight and enveloping her in a warm, living shadow. His knees parted her legs, and he settled between them, his weight a delicious burden.

He propped himself on his elbows beside her head and looked down at her. His gaze was intense, almost reverent, but with a flame of pure lust burning in its depths.

"Are you sure?" he asked, the last thin thread of restraint. "After this, there's no going back. After this, you're mine."

She answered with a movement of her hips, grinding against the hot rigidity of his belly. Her leg curled around his waist, pulling him closer.

"I was always yours," she whispered, and the truth of those words echoed in her soul. "Don't make me wait any longer."

A smile of pure masculine satisfaction crossed his face. He lowered his head and captured one of her nipples in his mouth. It wasn't a gentle suckle, but a voracious, strong suction, his tongue flattening and swirling around the sensitive tip. Kethlen screamed, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him there. The sensation was overwhelming, a direct current of pleasure from her breasts to her uterus, which contracted in empty anticipation.