Chapter Sixteen #2
Michael looked intently at her and then took a deep breath. “My magic is very old and very strong. I have the ability to create a form from the energy around me. It isn’t sustainable for very long, but while it lasts, the other person will believe the illusion to be solid.”
“Then you weren’t hurt?”
“I was, but I heal pretty quickly.” He unbuttoned his shirt to show her a faint pink scar across his right shoulder that looked weeks old, although it had been only hours ago. “See?”
“What about Pendragon? He wasn’t moving—”
“He’s fine. Or, at least as fine as he can be, since the clansmen decided it might be safer to keep him in his cage. I don’t think they exactly believe that he’s a rare form of a Gila monster.” Michael grinned. “I guess I’ll owe him another gallon of ice cream.”
“Did he find Sigurd? I only saw the panthers.”
Michael shook his head. “Sigurd must have flown over but not landed. His scent is probably what provoked the panthers.”
“The cypress grove grew totally silent just before I got to the clearing,” Sophie said. “I thought I heard a whirring noise, but I didn’t see anything.”
“Sigurd is playing with us,” Michael said, his face growing serious. “I called Smith. He’s going to send a helicopter to pick us up tomorrow and take us to the next destination. Maybe the dragon will lose our scent that way.”
“Good idea,” Sophie replied, “and what is our next destination?”
“New Orleans. There have been so many battles fought there in various wars that I’m thinking a member of the Priory would be drawn to it. Maybe we should have started there in the first place.”
“Even if we don’t find the Sword, I’d like to see what impact the oil spill has had on the bayou habitat,” Sophie said.
“Ever the veterinarian, aren’t you?” Michael teased. “Maybe I should have kept the panther form so you’d try to heal me?”
The image of the powerful panther flitted through her mind.
How soft and silky would that beautiful black fur feel over the hard, lithe muscles of the animal?
Or, more specifically, how would the smooth skin of Michael’s own muscular form feel?
His chest was still bared where he had pulled back his shirt to show her the fading scar, exposing finely chiseled pecs and sculpted biceps.
She reached out to place her hand lightly on the almost invisible scar.
“Maybe I’m the one that needs healing,” she said.
Michael stilled, his eyes growing darker. He didn’t move as she trailed her fingertips along the contours of his broad chest. She hesitated for a moment, gathering her courage, and then she slid his shirt off his other shoulder.
Michael raised a brow. “Where are you going with this?”
Sophie felt her face heat, but she managed to hold his gaze.
“I want to find out what you are.” She placed her hands against his flat, brown nipples, feeling the sensation of the hard nubs in the center of her palms, comparing it to the smoothness of his skin.
Spreading her fingers, she let her hands wander down, exploring the ridges of his tight belly, then resting her hand on the belt of his jeans.
His eyes began to smolder and a corner of his full, sensual mouth quirked up as he slipped his shirt off and then laid his hand over hers. “Allow me.”
Sophie shook her head. “I want to do this.” She felt her hand quiver as she looked down to unzip his pants. ‘I need to be in control of this so that I will never accuse you of coercing me…or spelling me.”
His hand stayed hers once more and he took her chin with his other, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. “You can gladly have your way with me, my sweet Sophie, but know—know—that I will never, ever spell you. In anything. Do you believe me?”
She searched his face. Unlike Robert, who wouldn’t look her in the eye when he was fabricating some half-truth, Michael looked back at her calmly, waiting for her answer. “I—I believe you.”
“Good.” He gave her a slow, sultry grin as he kicked off his boots. Scooting her over, he lay down beside her and put his hands behind his head. “Do what you will.”
She ran her hand over his groin, feeling the hardness of his manhood beneath the denim of his jeans.
Maybe she wasn’t quite ready for that, just yet.
She felt a little silly since she’d never seduced a man before.
What did they like? Hesitantly, she stretched alongside him, lying halfway across his chest. Tentatively, she nibbled his ear, placing small butterfly kisses along his neck and heard him make a small growl, but he didn’t move.
Emboldened, she kissed his lips. They were incredible warm and soft.
She kissed him again and he returned the kiss in kind, letting her set the pace.
It was intoxicating, kissing in this slow, leisurely way. Sophie crawled closer,
Her breasts pressed against him as she tugged on his lower lip. He caught hers, sucking on it gently, then giving her another lazy kiss, but not touching her in any other way.
Suddenly, she wanted to taste him, feel his tongue inside her mouth.
She touched the tip of her tongue to his lips.
He licked hers slowly, sensually, in return, his hands still behind his head.
With a small mewl, she parted her lips, drawing him inside.
His body stiffened momentarily and then he was exploring her mouth, his tongue playing with hers, alternating with deep, soulful kisses.
Her breasts swelled and the cotton material of her gown chafed at her pebbled nipples.
She wanted to feel them against his skin.
With a small cry she suddenly sat up, slipping the gown over her head and then pressed down on him, rubbing against him in delicious friction.
Michael growled again, moving in harmonious discord with her, helping her feel the sensation of naked flesh on naked flesh.
Sophie slipped down the length of him, her breasts grazing his washboard belly.
Her hand found his zipper and undid his pants.
Michael lifted his hips, allowing her to slide them off.
His manhood immediately sprang free, erect as a trained soldier.
He was cleanly shaven there, and the sight of his big, thick shaft and heavy sac made her think of the statue of some Roman god.
For a moment, she merely gazed at it, wondering if all that would actually fit into her. It had been so long…
Sophie reached out a tentative hand to touch him and watched in fascination as his erection jerked and grew even bigger.
She began to stroke him. Lord, he felt like satin-covered steel.
She gave him a shy glance and heat washed over her at the hungry look of desire in his dark eyes.
Wantonness overcame her and she knelt down to run her tongue around his sensitive crown.
Muscles in his belly clenched and he groaned.
Wickedly, she licked off the small drop that had formed on his tip.
“By the Goddess, Sophie! I can’t take much more of this,” Michael grunted, his hands now clenched in fists over his head. “Ask me to take you.”
She gave him another lick. “I am asking—”
He didn’t let her finish. Sophie found herself suddenly on her back, Michael draped partly across her as he lavished attention on her breasts, kneading one as he took the other in his mouth, laving the nipple, suckling softly, then drawing deep before turning his attention to the other.
Sophie arched her back and he pressed her breasts together, his tongue moving from one tip to the other, making her moan with desire.
One hand slid down, caressing her body, finding its way between her slick wet folds to tease her pulsating little bud, moving away just before she came, then returning to torture her some more.
She writhed under his skillful fingers, pushing against him, wanting more.
Michael spread her legs and mounted her, pressing the smooth round tip of his cock against her core. “Ask me once more to do this, Sophie.”
God, she could hardly think straight, let alone talk. “I want you inside me,” she gasped. “Now. Please, Michael. Take me.”
Michael slid into her slowly, giving her time to accommodate his size, filling her completely.
He began to thrust, slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely, making her wrap her legs around his thighs to keep him anchored.
He chuckled and teased her some more, alternating between easy thrusts and long, hard, deep ones.
She thrashed under him, her body weeping, flowing freely.
He leaned down, taking her mouth with his, thrusting his tongue inside, mimicking the motions his shaft was making.
Pinned to the bed by his body, all Sophie could do was enjoy the feel of his penis driving hard into her now.
Her every nerve fiber was attuned to him, humming like a finely tuned harp.
The crescendo was building…her body began to shudder as her thighs clenched and her toes curled.
With one final deep thrust from him, she shattered and felt his hot seed spurt into her.
They lay panting, silent, their sweat-soaked bodies slippery against each other. Michael began to withdraw, but Sophie held him tight.
“I like feeling you inside me,” she whispered, “but let’s leave this sword in its sheath a little while longer.”
Michael grinned and began to kiss her again and there was nothing slow or easy about it.