“I know exactly what you mean.” Her back arched slightly, and the strength of her internal muscles tugged so that he hissed. Her deep rose scent flowed over him in a sudden heavy wave that plowed into his sinuses and brought his own back arching.
Marguerite eased back, slowing down. He took deep breaths. Good, he sent. He had his eyes closed. I want this to last.
Me, too. You’re so beautiful, Thorne. Have I told you that? Have I told you how much I love just looking at you?
He opened his eyes. Her lips were dark, swollen, and parted. He wanted to rim her with his tongue but he feared moving. He was on the knife-edge of orgasm and it felt fantastic.
Marguerite smiled suddenly.
“What?”
“I just realized that if all your warrior gatherings end that way, you know, with all you men worked up, I’m in.”
He laughed and his body bounced, but it eased him back just a little, which was good. “I want something from you?”
Her body shivered as she rose up and down on his column. Anything, she sent. She leaned closer and moved faster. “I think I know what you want. There’s this ball of light—”
He closed his eyes and hissed. “Yes.” He barely pinched the words out of his throat.
She started moving faster, and he put his hands on her hips. “You know the moment I touch your obsiddy power, you’ll come.”
He nodded. “Just come with me.”
“That’s what I’ve got in mind.”
He’d been her lover a long time. He knew her body and she sure as hell knew what she was doing.
As she increased her speed and as he used his arms to help her pump, faster and faster, as she closed her eyes and began to moan, he lowered his mental shields so she could slip inside. He didn’t have to wait long.
Suddenly she was just there. She focused on what even he could admit was so absurdly male, that big round ball deep in the center of his mind, he felt her power moving through him, flowing toward it. She was almost there.
The last time she’d pierced him, breaking open his power, it had hurt like hell, but he knew it would different from now on.
She reached the side of the ball.
Oh, God.
His neck arched and his back tightened in anticipation. Holy shit, this was going to be a ride.
Ready? she sent.
Are you?
A squeak of a moan left her throat. Now she was panting.
Oh, God, do it, Marguerite.
When she slipped inside his obsidian flame power, it sent fire through his entire body, from his mind, down and down, over his torso, his hips, his legs, then rushed back up through his balls and cock.
By this time, she was tight around him, riding him fast and screaming her orgasm.
Pleasure began like a gripping flame that burned in the best way possible, at the base of his cock. As though time slowed, the pleasure expanded and intensified when he began to ejaculate. He had never felt so engaged with his entire body, as though ecstasy rode the veins of his legs, arms, and neck, as though he could feel the pleasure of his c**k all the way down to his toes.
He heard a loud grunting, almost thrashing sound as he released deep into Marguerite. He recognized his voice and felt his throat open wide as he shouted, the pleasure streaking through his cock, again and again.
He opened his eyes. Marguerite was writhing on top of him. Look at me.
She popped her eyes wide then her back arched again and he could feel her pulsing against his c**k once more.
He was breathing hard, but the thing was, he was still hard and he knew what he wanted to do. He pushed against her mind and she gave a loud cry and lowered her shields.
He dove straight into her obsidian flame channel, and when he reached the center he hit her hard. She cried out, her brows rising, her mouth wide. Shit, I see stars, she sent. Oh, Thorne.
Because she came again, she thrust him out, and that was the ride that brought him again. He shouted once more, pleasure streaking and straining and rocking him hard into her body, over and over, until at last he could feel her ease down and at last his own orgasm subsided.
She was panting and he dragged air hard as though he’d just run a marathon.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered, sliding his arms around her and drawing her close.
“Ditto.”
With his arms still around her, she slid to his side, her legs on his thigh. He smiled at how wet it was. He loved it.
He loved this woman and he wanted her with him, now and forever. That much he knew.
He thought back on the entire meeting. For whatever reason, Marguerite seemed to blend right in, even going so far as to hold a baby who generally didn’t settle down with anyone except her parents.
His woman, without meaning to, had fit in.
Everything seemed to be adding up to one thing. The truth was, he had truly begun to wonder if maybe this was the right path for him after all, taking Marguerite as his breh.
Of course, other things were on his mind as well, like Grace and Leto, the war, always the war.
But as he stared through the wide bank of windows opposite his bed, at the monolith edge of the Mogollon Rim, black now against a dark night sky full of stars, his mind skipped around uneasily. All this emerging power, and he had no idea what it was for, especially his own obsidian flame power. Besides an incredible orgasm, what purpose did it serve and what exactly did this power encompass for him? He sort of got it where Fiona and Marguerite were concerned, since Fiona’s ability to channel was enhanced exponentially, and Marguerite now had the power, with support from other Seers, to achieve pure vision.
But why the hell did he have this power? What ability of his would be enhanced, if enhancement was even the purpose in his case?
All in all, something didn’t feel right to him, but when did it ever? The warriors would be out fighting now and he should join them, but he couldn’t seem to leave this bed. He felt stopped dead, halted, immobile.
Marguerite plucked at the hair between his pecs. He had bite marks again, which he savored, something she’d done to him when they’d first returned from the villa. He loved the feel of her bare mons against his thigh. Her wax really worked for him.
First thing tomorrow morning, Greaves’s massive military review would take place, morning in Phoenix but thirteen hours later in Moscow. He had meant to talk strategy earlier with his men, about concocting some means of disrupting the review.
Marguerite sat up and looked at him. “You’re very tense.”
He met her gaze. In the dark, her brown eyes were just a glitter. He could enhance his vision and bring her into perfect focus as though a light shone on her face, but right now he liked the shadows over her face and the glitter of her eyes.