Munro (Immortals After Dark #18) by Kresley Cole

            Her words were like balm on his ragged psyche. But then he shook his head. “Considering all you’ve learned and been through, you’re no’ ready for more. No’ yet. I told you that I will never be a regret.”

            “You won’t be. I know my own mind, and I’m done taking time for granted.”

            He glanced at the falls and back. “We need to be strategizing, coming up with a . . .” Words vanished from his brain when she peeled away her shirt, revealing her transparent brassiere. His tongue flicked in his mouth for those pert breasts and pebbled nipples. His beast bayed inside him to seize her.

            “Munro, nonetheless, onward is just another way of saying the time is now. I am—how did you so eloquently put it?—down to fuck.”

            He hissed in air between his teeth.

            “We’ll plan,” she said in a siren’s voice. “After.”

            That one word made his cock even harder.

            How could he deny himself what he wanted most in the worlds? “This is a horrible bloody idea. My beast is rising up like a leviathan inside me and wants only one thing: you, gripped in its claws, your naked flesh beneath its tongue.”

            She unbuttoned her pants and slipped from them, revealing her toned legs. “It won’t hurt me.” She stood before him in only wet, silken undergarments.

            Fuck, fuck, fuck. “It would no’ mean to.”

            “I think you’re forgetting something.” She collected her holster and secured it around her arm once more. “My knife says I have the power in this cave with you.” She cast him such a lascivious look that his gut tightened. “I’m in control.”

            Would the blade he’d cursed now free them to indulge? Voice gone hoarse, he commanded her, “Prove it.”





THIRTY-NINE





            Ren started unbuttoning Munro’s damp shirt. She didn’t have a lot of experience undressing males, but everything between them felt natural. Necessary.

            Once she’d bared his sculpted chest, he swallowed audibly. “If my beast gets free, you canna hesitate to use that knife of yours.”

            “I won’t. But we’re going to do fine. Now, take off your boots.”

            With raised brows, he said, “Yes, ma’am,” and made short work of them.

            She reached up and clasped his face, drawing him down for the kiss she’d craved ever since they’d ended their last one.

            His lips teased hers, and that divine pleasure bloomed. With a groan, he dipped his tongue inside. As they twined their tongues, he grasped her waist and tugged her even closer to him.

            The unyielding length of his manhood pressed between her legs. She felt the heat of it through his pants, could swear it pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

            But Ren needed even more contact. She took his hands, moving them to her breasts.

            He groaned into the kiss and cupped her with his calloused palms, his thumbs slowly sweeping over her jutting nipples. Back and forth went his languid thumbs. Back . . . forth . . . back. Frantic for more, she wriggled her hips to grind against his shaft.

            He drew his head back to say, “Killing me! My lusty little mortal.” He raised a single claw and sliced her bra away as if it were gauze, then stared at her bared breasts with undisguised hunger. “So fucking beautiful.” He leaned down, letting his breaths dance over one of the peaks. “I am going to spend an eternity tonguing these.”

            She arched to the mind-numbing contact. “Start now.”

            With a pained laugh, he bestowed a light kiss, a mere brushing of his lips.

            “Ah!” She couldn’t get enough. . . .

            Then came his tongue against the tingling tip.

            “Yes! Oh, yes.”

            He turned to her other breast. More kisses, licks.

            Imitating his accent, she said, “Oh, aye, this is a horrible bluidy idea. I hate this.”

            “Smartarse harridan. I’ll make you sing another tune.”