Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Skye
There was no doubt that the Vandar could kiss.
He's not who he thinks he is, Skye. My conscience made one last-ditch attempt from somewhere at the back of my skull. He doesn't have his memories. He doesn't know what he thought of you before all this.
His thumb traced the line of my jaw as his tongue tangled with mine, and I lost the thread entirely.
He used to barely tolerate you. My inner voice was getting quieter by the second. The real Kolt made it pretty clear that humans weren't exactly his favorite species.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, dark eyes tracking my face with an expression so far from barely tolerating me that I almost forgot how to breathe.
And then I thought about our current reality.
What if this is it? some reckless part of me thought. What if there is no later?
The rational part of me argued that I couldn’t think that way. We would escape. What then?
It doesn't have to mean anything, I told myself. People have fun. You are allowed to do something just for fun.
"You’re quiet," Kolt said.
"I was thinking."
"About?"
I gave him a wicked smile. “About how I'm done thinking."
Something shifted in his expression. He tucked a curl behind my ear, his fingers trailing the line of my jaw.
I told myself it meant nothing. I told myself he was confused, displaced, half the man he used to be.
Then he looked at me like I was the thing he'd been trying to remember, and I ran out of things to tell myself.
When he kissed me again, I kissed him back with considerably more intent, and I felt the low sound he made against my mouth more than I heard it.
My hands found his chest, the skin warm under my palms, and I felt the steady hammer of his heartbeat, though not quite as steady as he was pretending. I took small satisfaction in that.
He drew back, and his voice dropped to a velvet purr as he stood and motioned for me to do the same. "Take off the jacket."
I went very still. Was he giving me an order? My heart tripped in my chest. Did I like it?
I stood and shrugged the jacket off my shoulders and let it drop behind me.
Kolt's eyes tracked the movement, and the already-warm air felt instantly thicker. “Now the shirt.”
My fingers found the clasps. I undid them one by one, holding his gaze and almost challenging him to look away.
The look on his face made my cheeks warm. He wasn’t just watching me, his gaze hot. He was committing the sight of me to memory, detail by careful detail.
"You're surprisingly good at following instructions," he said.
"Don't get used to it."
His mouth almost curved. "I wouldn't dream of it."
He wrapped his arms around me, hands moving slowly, giving me every opportunity to stop him as he unfastened the hooks of my black bra and the sheer fabric dropped to the floor.
He stepped back and took me in, his pupils darkening until they swallowed any color in his eyes. Instead of feeling shy, his hungry gaze made me feel powerful. Now it was my turn to call the shots.
I dropped my gaze to the battle kilt riding low on his hips and then back up to the dense muscle and bronze skin, the curling black marks emblazoned across his hard chest muscles, the faint silver line of an old scar curving beneath his ribs.
I'd been pretending not to notice how he looked without a shirt for days.
Pretending required considerably more effort up close.
“Let’s start with your boots," I said.
"Is that an order?"
“Consider it a firm suggestion."
His mouth curved into a real smile this time, brief and devastating, and he bent to pull off one boot, then the other. I stepped out of mine without waiting to be asked.
“Now your kilt,” I said, my mouth going dry.
Without any hesitation, he shed his belt and dropped the leather kilt where it smacked the floor. I tried not to gape at the long, thick cock that jutted from his body, the inky marks curling up the shaft identical to the ones on his chest.
“Your pants,” he said gruffly.
I unfastened them and shimmied them over my hips and then my calves, finally kicking them off and across the room.
Kolt’s gaze dropped to my black panties, and he closed the distance between us.
But instead of grabbing me or doing anything rough I would have expected from a Vandar, he bent over and brushed his lips across my shoulder as his hands went to my hips.
I bit back a moan as he twisted his fingers around the strings of my bikini, then he yanked so quickly and suddenly that the fabric snapped, and my panties fell to the floor.
“Wh…what?” I said, startled.
My complaints were stifled as he curled a hand around my waist and pressed it to the small of my back. Still, he didn’t press my body to his as he gently kissed his way from my shoulders to my neck.
Something brushed the outside of my calf, and I startled before I realized it was his tail, trailing up along my leg with a feather-light pressure that was somehow more intense than if he'd used his hands.
The tip curled slightly as it went, tracing the curve of my knee, and a shiver moved through me.
That’s not playing fair, I thought.
His mouth moved to the curve of my jaw, the soft skin below my ear, and I sucked in a breath. His tail swept a slow arc up my thigh; a throaty purr escaped my lips, and felt him smile against my throat.
Smug bastard, I thought, but I didn't really care.
My hands found his shoulders, his skin impossibly warm under my palms, and somewhere in the back of my mind a very small, very inconvenient voice noted that I had told myself this wouldn't mean anything.
It doesn't mean anything, I told myself firmly.
He drew back far enough to look at me, his forehead tipping toward mine, his tail stilling against my leg, as if even it was waiting.
"You are not what I expected," he said.
"Neither are you.”
His eyes stayed on mine for a beat. Then he brought his mouth to mine, and I let go of the last of my very sensible objections as his tail slipped between my legs.
He broke the kiss to meet my eyes, his lips quirking as his tail pushed into me slow and deep, the thick fur sending tingles ricocheting through my body.
“No fair using your tail.”
He stroked it in and out, his gaze never leaving my face. “Who said I had to play fair?”
I let my head fall back as Kolt moved the thick tip of his tail deeper inside me. The forbidden thrill of the Vandar tail-fucking me made my release build quickly.
“Eyes on me, Skye,” he said as my moans became more desperate.
He reached down, grabbed me by the ass and hoisted me up so my legs wrapped around his waist, then he deftly slid his tail out of me and lowered me onto his cock.
I met his gaze as the broad crown pushed inside me, my breath hitching in my throat.
His eyes were huge and black, pinning me with their feverish intensity as he drove me down on his cock.
When he slid the tip of his tail over my clit, the fur teasing an eager moan from me, and my eyes rolled back into my head.
With a raw sound, Kolt thrust up, his impressive girth stretching me and making it almost impossible for me to breathe. I held onto him, pleasure tearing through me as he drove me down again and again.
“Do you still think I do not play fair?” he husked.
I wrapped my legs around his waist. “You can play with me any way you want to, big guy.”
My hands slipped to his shoulders, my nails scoring his flesh as my release slammed into me, the tremors rocking my body in waves and rippling around his cock.
His response was a roar, as he pulsed hot inside me. Then he sucked in a breath as he held me, lifting his head after a few minutes of panting. “Any way?”