Of Alliance and Rebellion Page 11

  And he took her breath away.

  Physical longing panged low in her belly, and her eyes slid closed once more. She could not look at him and keep her composure. She was not sure she could keep her composure now.

  Max was pressing his lips to hers again, and when she felt that same, wet lick along her bottom lip, she was reminded of her plan to return the favor. His top lip nestled between hers, and she slid her tongue over her teeth and touched the tip to his skin.

  Mint. Smooth as silk. As addicting as she had feared.

  Her lungs felt too full, and she breathed out all of her air, not realizing it would enter his mouth. She felt his chest billow out as he took her air into his own lungs, and she grew dizzy at the headiness of something that had been in her body entering his.

  She licked him again, this time less tentatively, running her tongue from one side of his lip to the other. Some deep, rough noise sounded from his gut, and the fingers against her face spasmed, gripping her tightly before they relaxed once more.

  Oh, no. None of that. She liked him desperate for what she was doing to him. That noise, that flex of his fingers—they had made her feel powerful and like she knew what she was doing for the first time since clapping eyes on her Temptation.

  She opened her lips wider and lapped his top lip into her mouth to bite at it with her teeth, rolling it back and forth and sucking on the flavor of his skin.

  Max jerked back, snatching his lip from her teeth so quickly she did not have the chance to loosen her bite. Her eyes flew open, and worry crowded out her heartbeat, causing it to hasten. She had probably just hurt him.

  He was staring at her, his brows drawn together and almost meeting in the middle. His brown eye and golden eye darted over her face almost quicker than she could track, and she could see that his top lip was red and swollen.

  She had slipped up. Done something untoward. Horror flooded just beneath the surface of her skin, bringing with it an almost unbearable heat.

  And then, Max’s eyes slid closed almost lazily, and he sucked his own top lip into his mouth. She could see his jaw moving in a way that could only mean he was nibbling on it, just as she had done. His mouth opened once more, and he breathed, “Oh, fuck.”

  The next thing she knew, she was in his arms, crushed against his chest, and his mouth was upon hers with a force she had not known was okay but was thrilled to find out was allowed. His lips pried hers apart, and his tongue thrust into her mouth, running into her own tongue and tangling with it before pulling it back into his mouth where he sucked on it hard.

  Every muscle in Anahita’s body simultaneously clenched and went liquid, and she pulled her arms out of the embrace where they were pinned to her sides so that she could slide them around his shoulders, her fingers seeking the hair she just had to touch.

  He continued to suck on and caress her tongue, showing her by example how to thrust and parry with his, but just as her fingers reached the nape of his neck, his arms abandoned their crushing hug. His hands clasped her wrists like manacles and pulled them from his shoulders to behind her back where he gripped them together with one of his hands, rustling the feathers of her wings while doing so in such a delicious way that it almost distracted her from the fact that he’d just prevented her from touching him.

  She pulled her wrists apart, trying to release herself, but his grip held. She could force it to give way, but instinctively knew such an action would end the kiss here and now, and she could not bear such a consequence. She let him restrain her.

  For now.

  His fingers clenched and unclenched on her wrists, and just as she was wondering where his free hand was, she felt it wander over the feathers of one wing. A moan was wrenched from her chest so loudly, she heard it echo throughout the room. It was so embarrassing, she was preparing to pull her lips from his.

  But then he whispered against her lips, “You like that?” and did it again. So, obviously, her moans got her rewards. She relaxed again and leaned into his chest with hers—the only way he seemed to allow her to touch him, for he clenched her wrists once more and then used them to push the small of her back, pressing her into his body more fully.

  Her body was reminded that it had only been a handful of hours, a full day maybe, since Max had worked her up to the point of lunacy and then left her body aching. It now rushed back to meet the point at which it had been left, and she moaned again as her breasts grew full to the point of aching against his chest and heat flooded the juncture of her thighs.

  She felt his hand clench in the fabric of her robe next to her shoulder. His lips drifted from hers to her cheek, and then her neck, and Anahita thought she would die if he didn’t finish things this time. “Max,” she muttered, tipping her head back to allow him better access to her neck. “You can’t—” Her words jumbled in her throat. “Please don’t do what you—”

  His kisses slowed on her neck, and she thought she would choke. He rested his forehead on her shoulder. “I won’t,” he said roughly. “I promise.”

  In her panic, she wasn’t sure what he meant. Was he stopping now? His words could mean that. She didn’t want him to stop. At all. That panic crawled up her throat as she said, “Max?” To her horror, her voice cracked on the simple syllable.

  With his head still pressed into her shoulder, he took in a gigantic, shuddering breath and muttered something to himself that she couldn’t quite hear but sounded like, “Distance.” Then he turned his head, and she could feel his breaths on the still damp skin of her neck. Was his breathing faster than it normally was? His lips brushed upon her pulse point, and she realized that not only was she breathing just as fast as he was, her pulse was racing beneath his mouth. Lust had many side effects, it seemed. Many delicious side effects.

  His lips moved back up her neck, and goose bumps broke out in the wake of his open-mouthed kisses. When he arrived at her jaw, he licked and then nibbled her skin before moving to her ear. “You want more?” he whispered.

  She moaned, and her head fell back. “Please.”

  And then he, blessedly, released her wrists. But before she could reach for him, clutch his skin, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her. Her lips parted. No one had ever done such a thing. She was not considered delicate, by any means, at nearly six feet tall and packed with muscle.

  He began to walk backward with her pinned against him and her sandaled feet dangling above the ground, but she was distracted by where he was going when his lips returned to hers. His kiss was now more familiar but nonetheless devastating to her senses. She moaned around his tongue, and his arms tightened.

  Then, her equilibrium tilted, and next she knew, she was being laid down on a hard surface, her wings finding something unforgiving and slightly chilled. She pulled from the kiss to look over her shoulder. She was lying on the short-legged table that sat in the midst of the living room furniture. A stack of magazines dug into her shoulder, and she shifted uncomfortably. She was about to protest when Max followed her down, resting on top of her and between her thighs while simultaneously sweeping the stack of magazines from the table to scatter on the floor.

  Her breath left her, and not because he was oh so heavy upon her. She couldn’t catch her breath because it was the best thing she’d ever felt. With his lower body nestled between her thighs, she could feel that he was aroused again. So hard was he against the juncture of her thighs that she wondered if he hurt like she hurt.

  However, as soon as he laid upon her, he was up again, and a very un-angel-like word flashed through her mind at the loss.

  He shoved a hand through his hair, revealing his scar to her, as he stood between her sprawled knees and looked at her through tortured eyes. “I c-can’t lay on you like that,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “I’ll lose it.”

  Anahita didn’t know what it was, but she couldn’t bear for things to stop now. “You promised,” she said while rising to her elbows so she could reach for and detain him if he fled. She felt her wings flar
e behind her back in their freedom, and his eyes caressed their lines before returning to her face.

  “Shit, Anahita,” he said, flexing his hands.

  “Max,” she pleaded.

  He tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling while he muttered to himself, but Anahita was too engrossed in the way his throat moved to pay attention to what he was saying. She wanted to lick up that throat the way he had hers. Would it affect him the same way?

  “Okay,” Max said, leveling his gaze at her again. “I’ll touch you. Just touch you.” He appeared to be still speaking to himself.

  Anahita’s wings ruffled at the promise in his rough tone. “Yes,” she said, reaching for him with one arm while remaining balanced on the other against the table.

  His eyes sharpened. “You don’t touch me. Understand?”

  Anahita felt herself frown and her outstretched arm shook.

  “It’s all I can offer, angel, so take it or leave it.”

  She felt like crying. No, she corrected herself. She felt like fighting him for the right to touch him. Restraining him as he had done her and then laying her hands all over him. His eyes narrowed, and he seemed to know what she was thinking. If his expression was any indication, she’d better not try it.

  “Fine,” she said ungratefully. “Touch me.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Lift your robe,” he said, his chin tilting up as though the words were a challenge.

  Before another second passed, Anahita grabbed a handful of her robe and wrenched it up her legs.

  A sharp noise burst from Max’s lips. “Not shy, then,” he muttered with his eyes riveted to the space between her thighs. Anahita could feel his gaze like a caress and brazenly widened her knees. “Holy Hell,” Max gasped, his open hand slamming over his heart. The look on his face right now—Anahita had never felt more beautiful. He raised his eyes to hers so slowly it appeared as though he had to drag them away. He cocked one eyebrow, and the tiniest lift appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Angels don’t wear underwear?” he asked.

  She felt her own lips tilt at the corners, and she pulled her robe higher, feeling empowered by the lust in his eyes, while shaking her head.

  “Damn, woman,” Max said. “You sure you’re not a devil?”

  Anahita felt a flare of worry. Was she acting too brazenly? She liked the way she was acting. It felt great. And she’d thought that Max had liked it, too…

  Max made a sound with his tongue and teeth. “Your face is too damn expressive, angel,” he said, as though it were a bad thing. “Don’t you dare act any differently than you are right now. I do like it. I was just trying to flirt with you. Apparently really badly.” He frowned down at his shoes.

  She felt her smile grow again. “Not that badly.”

  He laughed, but there was no humor in it, and Anahita felt a pang in her heart. “What am I doing?” he asked, and Anahita instinctively knew he wasn’t asking her.

  She answered anyway. “I thought you were going to touch me. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

  His head raised slowly, and his eyes roamed her face, that golden eye seeming to glow even more. “You sure you want me to do that?”

  Oh, yes. She was sure. “Just so you are aware: I’ve never done things like this before.” His laugh had a little touch of humor in it this time, but she didn’t feel as though he were laughing at her. “I do not really know what I am doing. I never watched the humans do this sort of thing… Never thought I would need to…”

  A dimple flashed in his right cheek. “You’re doing just fine,” he said, as though it were the understatement of the decade. “Trust me.”

  Confidence poured through her once more. “Then what are you waiting for?” she asked, spreading her knees again.

  Max smiled broadly. It was the first time she’d ever seen him do so, and it stretched his scar, flattening the raised flesh so that it blanched and almost disappeared into his features. Oh, my heart, she thought as her lips parted. With every moment, she was finding him more and more attractive. More and more Tempting.

  She closed her mouth. She could do this. She would not Fall. She had no plans to create life with this man who barely tolerated her, and she was certainly not going to Fall to be with someone who despised her. Things were going to be fine.

  She jumped when she felt something brush her knee, and it made Max jump, too. Her eyes snapped to his face, and he was wearing a wary half-smile. Her eyes darted down, and it was his fingers that were brushing her knee. “Okay?” he asked.

  Her world narrowed down to that light brush of his fingertips, and as she watched, he did it again. Heat shot straight up from his caress to the juncture of her thighs. “Oh, yes,” she said breathlessly.

  She heard him swallow roughly, but she was busy staring at his fingers as they brushed ever higher, making small circles above her knee, and moving to the inner thigh. When they reached the place where her inner thigh met her body, they stalled, and Anahita heard herself whimper. “Do not tease me,” she said, her tone begging.

  “Didn’t realize I was,” he said, but there was a smile in his voice. With a boldness that surprised her, she reached for his fingers and moved them to where she wanted them: directly cupping her.

  Max sucked in a breath and choked slightly. “Okay, then,” he muttered, flexing his fingers. Anahita moaned and arched her hips into his touch. “God, Anahita,” Max whispered reverently.

  Anahita placed her hand over his, intending to move it against her, but he lightly slapped it away with his free hand. “I can take it from here, angel,” he said, and her eyes shot to his face once more. He was smiling down at her, his free hand now planted by the curve of her waist on the table. “You’ve got some control issues, pretty baby.”

  Pretty baby. She was surprised by how much she liked that. She wanted to fist her hand in his shirt and pull him down to her, but he seemed to panic each time she touched him, and now he was ordering her not to take charge. Her only recourse was to whimper and undulate into his palm.

  He chuckled huskily, and then his fingers began to move. His palm was fully covering her: the heel of his hand pressed against the top of her cleft, his fingers along her opening. Those moving fingers brushed up and down, and she felt him spreading moisture. It felt so good, in that moment, she would have gladly Fallen to make him continue.

  He groaned, and she heard the fingers of his free hand scrape along the table beneath her. “So damn wet, angel,” he whispered. “You won’t last long at all, will you?”

  She wasn’t quite sure what he was talking about, but she shook her head anyway, agreeing more to the promise in his tone than the words. The heel of his palm lifted, and Anahita whimpered a protest. But then, his fingers, slick with how much he had made her want him, brushed upward and over that same spot.

  She cried out, her head craning back on the table, and her hips rising so sharply his hand was almost displaced. His fingers brushed her again, and her thighs fell completely open. Her hands shot down, and she wrapped both of them around his wrist and thrust his hand onto her hard while canting her hips up at the same time. As his fingers rubbed her just right, Max hissed in a breath. He straightened and grabbed her hands with both of his.

  “No,” Anahita sobbed, already missing the touch of his fingers on her sensitive flesh.

  “I said no touching,” he whispered, wrenching her hands above her head and pinning them to the table. “I meant it!”

  “Yes, fine,” she said quickly, staring up into his face, which was now a breath away. “I won’t do it again. Just ... please.” She gulped back the sob that was tinging her words. “Do not stop, Max.” His eyes glittered down at her. “Please.”

  He looked at her for several hard seconds, and then he adjusted his hold so that her hands were pinned with one of his. His index finger brushed a curl off of her forehead, then trailed down her nose and over the curve of her lip before coming to rest between her parted lips. “Lick it,” he said broken
ly.

  She felt her brows pucker, but after a slight hesitation, she obeyed. She tasted herself on his finger. Her eyes closed, and she moaned as she sucked it further into her mouth, laving it until the flavor was gone.

  He pulled it out of her mouth with a little pop, and when she opened her eyes to gaze up at him, his eyes were swimming with a new level of lust. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispered.

  He was right, of course, and the sudden reminder was unwelcome and harsh. Her eyes searched his face until he broke eye contact. Before she could become too embroiled in the sudden dark turn of her thoughts, the fingers gripping her wrists tightened, almost as though he were warning her to live up to her promise not to touch him. Then, his finger, wet from her mouth, landed right on the spot that drove her wild and began moving in tight, fast circles that showed her no mercy.

  Her legs jerked with each pass of his skin over hers, and tiny, breathless noises burst from her mouth faster than she could catch them. It felt as though a string were being pulled tighter and tighter, and any moment she would snap.

  His name became a litany she said in hoarse, pleading whispers. After the first few repetitions of his name, Max looked into her eyes. His face was tense; his eyes were tortured. He never let up on the pressure and speed of his finger, and as her cries grew louder, his expression turned expectant. “Do it for me, pretty baby,” he groaned. “Let me see your face as you come apart.”

  For the first time since he’d pinned her hands, she tried to get free. She was unraveling. Her skin felt too tight for her body, and she wanted to hold on to him, to have him ground her. He pressed her hands more firmly against the table and tsked at her, but blessedly, he did not let up with the brushes of his finger, because Anahita finally found out what that snapped string would lead to.

  “Max!” she said, throwing her head back and bowing off of the table to ride wave after wave of pleasure as it shot through her, radiating out from where his finger had now slowed and brushed over her gently.

  When she whimpered and her hips fell back to the table, his finger slowed to a stop. As clarity became more accessible, she noticed that his fingers were trembling where they clutched her wrists. His breaths were exploding out of him, puffing across her face and stirring her hair. His face was a mask of utter longing.