It was early afternoon when Nicholas finally stirred from his restless sleep. It had been years since either he or Tamara had kept a daytime schedule like normal people. He sat up wearily, ruffling a hand through his hair and glancing around his room.
“Man, what a night,” he muttered.
His magic shifted beneath his skin, waking up with him. It never ceased to amaze him how that secret inner part of him seemed like a separate being, one that shared his skin. Yet they were always together, he and the magic. Inseparable.
He’d grown up in a house filled with magic users, and he’d known from a young age that he would be a tracker for the Brotherhood. But meeting Tamara—loving Tamara—had made him question all of that. A new wave of guilt crashed at him from all sides, and he lashed out, punching his pillow. Someday he’d be forced to choose whether to show Tamara how he felt about her or to turn his back on his feelings forever, but today couldn’t be that day. He wouldn’t let it.
He snagged a bath towel from his closet and headed for the shower, dropping his clothes in a haphazard pattern. He froze when he stepped into the shower stall. The faintest tingle of something new, almost alien, teased his senses. A pulse started up in his lips like a faint heartbeat. His fingers grazed his lips absentmindedly, trying to rub away the irritation of the throbbing sensation. His magic seemed more restless today than usual.
The crystal knob of the faucet in the shower was cool underneath his hand as he turned the water on. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he relaxed beneath the hot water blasting onto his chest. His muscles ached, an annoying side effect of using so much magic to heal Tamara. Steam curled around him in pale white tendrils, dancing over the top of the blue shower curtain. There was something sinful about a hot shower—the way it burned his skin and enveloped him in heat. Much like he imagined Tamara’s body would feel around him as he . . .
Nicholas came back to himself with a start and jumped.
Control. Need control, he silently urged himself. He was nearly finished rinsing his hair when Tamara stepped into the bathroom.
“Morning!” she called out brightly. The light trill of her greeting sent the pulse in his lips racing faster, even as his body went deathly still. He held his breath, not moving a muscle. She was at the sink brushing her teeth. He heard the water from the faucet running.
“Nick?” She was close, almost touching the shower curtain. His body burned with a wave of heat and desire. Oh come on! Not now! He glanced down at the rebellious erection below his waist with a dark scowl. His body seemed perfectly content to continue in its present state.
“Shit,” he hissed and cranked the shower’s knob over to cold.
“Nicholas, are you all right?”
He made out the outline of her face and the curve of her breasts, a tantalizing silhouette behind the curtain.
Damn. His eyes traced over her breasts, the delectable curve of her ass. He’d love to bury himself into her from behind, bend her over in the shower, pumping away hard enough to make her breasts bounce. He’d fist a hand in her hair, clench his fingers tight, and make her gasp and arch her back. Then he’d change the angle of his penetration . . . Shit, shit, shit. He was going to explode.
“I’m fine, just cut myself shaving,” he growled, his voice rough as though he’d swallowed broken glass.
Go away, dammit. Go away before I drag you in here with me and take you hard . . .
The silence from the other side of the curtain made him curl his fingers into fists.
“Oh, okay.” Tamara didn’t sound fully convinced, but after a hesitant pause, she walked away.
He shuddered as the icy water sprayed over his body, but still he couldn’t get rid of his erection. He panted softly against the tile, resting his head against the cool surface. His magic skittered along his skin in little orange sparks, mixing with the beaded droplets on his skin, making his entire body light up like a Christmas tree.
Why did this have to happen now? They’d lived like this since they were eighteen years old. What had changed since last night? Why didn’t he seem to have control over his own body anymore?
He waited until he was sure she was in the kitchen before he ran back to his room to change. He’d just managed to get his boxers on when Tamara poked her head into his room. He glanced over his shoulder, saw her watching, and hunched protectively to conceal the stiff bulge between his legs.
“Breakfast is ready. You coming?”
Warmth suffused his face when her gray eyes searched his, worry creasing her brow.
Am I coming? I wish.
Nicholas growled low in the back of his throat. “Just a sec.” He tugged his jeans up his legs, fighting to zip them over his raging hard-on. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath once the bulge was properly concealed. He needed a release, and fast.
Tamara planted her hands on her hips and strode into his room. He grabbed a shirt and held it up, covering his chest and his crotch, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
“Nicholas, what’s up with you?” She moved around the edge of his bed until she was staring at him from merely a foot away.
The pulse in his lips was so violent that he thought he’d faint with the building pressure.
“Tamara, I’m fine. I just need a minute, okay?” His voice came out a little gruff. Each word grated on his ears with the sting of his irritation.
He saw the sudden image of himself grabbing her and kissing her so hard she gasped for air. The mental image only got worse from there. Tamara eyed him warily. If she didn’t leave in the next minute, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.
Leave—please leave, he begged silently.
When he said nothing aloud and continued to glare at her, she left him alone. His breath left his lungs in a soft whoosh, and his shoulders sagged down.
He shut the door behind her and leaned against it, taking a few slow, measured breaths. He could feel something beneath his skin, tingling, shifting, and it wasn’t his magic.
Something is wrong.
Tamara sat at the kitchen table, gazing at Nicholas’s empty seat with a knot in the pit of her stomach. He was acting strange and wouldn’t talk to her. When she’d gone into his room, he’d hunkered down and covered himself like he’d been embarrassed. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him bare-chested, wearing nothing but boxers before. They’d lived together for years, and she’d seen him in various states of undress. Sure, it messed with her libido, seeing him so tantalizingly bare to her gaze. But she’d learned to control her urges, even if it sometimes felt like it would kill her to deny herself his touch.
Nicholas’s door creaked open, snapping Tamara out of her thoughts. Her spine stiffened, her eyes locking on the door as she waited to see him. He emerged, wearing jeans and a blue-striped shirt. He avoided her gaze as he sat down and filled his plate with pancakes.
“Don’t forget your shake,” Nicholas said between mouthfuls.
Tamara blinked and glanced down at the protein shake next to her plate. It was layered with spells, in addition to her normal vitamins, to help keep her strong against magic. The spells from the shake would work their way through her system and make her entire body a human shield. It was something Nicholas had developed a few years ago on his own and had shared with the Brotherhood.
Taking a long sip, she watched him over the rim of the glass. His brown eyes were as warm as nutmeg. He flicked his gaze her way, holding her stare for a long moment. Her skin heated, and her breasts grew heavy. A thick fog seemed to envelop her senses, and desire electrified her limbs. She wanted him to sweep all the dishes off the table and eat her instead. But that was impossible. Being together was impossible.
Can’t do this. Must stay in control. I’ve lasted this long and never kissed him. I don’t need to know how talented his mouth is. Or what magic his fingers can work on my . . . Dammit!
She took another long gulp of her shake and slammed the empty glass down with a loud smack on the table. Nicholas’s eyes jerked from the glass to her face, shock raising his brows.
They ate in silence and moved at the same time to put away the dishes. It was nearly two in the afternoon, but over the years, they’d learned to push breakfast back to whenever they woke up. Tamara bent over the dishwasher, sliding plates into the bottom shelf. A hand brushed over her lower back where her shirt rode up, exposing bare skin. The touch was feather-light, delicate, and it shocked her like a live wire. She let out an audible gasp of shock and straightened. Nicholas stood right behind her, dwarfing her with his size, making her all too aware of how suddenly vulnerable she felt.
“I never realized how soft your skin is.” Nicholas’s rough whisper teased her ears. Their bodies were inches apart, and the fine hairs on her neck stood on end, her skin covered in goosebumps. The rapid flutter of her heart mixed with the slightly heavy breaths escaping her lips.
The heat of his fingers seared her skin through the fabric of her shirt. She spun around, her face missing his by mere inches as she tilted her head back to look him in the eye.
“Hey!” she snapped, but he didn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on her lips.
She jabbed a finger into his chest, forcing him back a step. “Earth to Nick. What’s up with you today? You never act like this.” You never make me want to break the law that we both vowed to obey. Covering her turmoil with bravado was the only way she could maintain her distance. She couldn’t give in, not now. If he said he wanted her . . . Then she’d stop fighting her own attraction, and they’d end up in bed, violating six centuries of laws for the Brotherhood.
Still—being with him would be worth it.
Nicholas grasped her face between his hands and covered her lips with his. She was too surprised to pull away.
The force of the kiss was almost crippling, as though his lips were able to drain away her power to resist. It was better than she’d ever dreamed. He kissed her open-mouthed, raw and primal, like a starving man at a feast. His tongue swept between her parted lips, seeking hers. He demanded her response, and she gave in, wild and untamed. Dimly, she was aware of his hands tunneling through her hair, fisting tight as he held her still to plunder her mouth. She ran her palms up his arms to his shoulders, digging her nails into him, clinging to him as he pulled her deeper into his embrace.
Tamara leaned into him, the seductive power of his body drawing her in. His magic exploded around them, sparks lighting the kitchen. She would have laughed in delight if her full attention wasn’t on his mouth and hands. He wasn’t close enough. She needed him to be inside her, filling her, claiming her. She whimpered in protest as her rational mind fought for control. At last, she pulled away.
Their lips parted reluctantly, his body moving to follow hers, but she held up a staying hand.
Tamara stared at him, eyes wide. She took a large step back, putting precious space between them. His eyes were sienna fire, burning for her, dangerous, hot, and unquenchable. She wanted nothing more than to fling herself at him, but it was obvious that he was beyond control. It was up to her to save them both now.
“Mine,” he growled, reaching for her.
“Nicholas, no!” She tried to stop him, even though that was the last thing she really wanted. One of them had to keep their head, or they’d both be lost to lust.
He gently knocked her hand away and stepped closer.
She stumbled back, dodging around the open dishwasher, barely escaping his grasp. He couldn’t be losing his control. They had worked so hard over the years to avoid this . . . passion. As much as she wanted to leap into his arms, this couldn’t happen. They weren’t ready for the consequences.
Tamara made a run for the front door, but he was on her heels, slamming her against it, using his weight to trap her. His lithe, sinewy arms wrapped around her, encasing her in his essence. Magic rippled off his skin, traveling to her and sinking deep, filling her with heat, desire, and . . . longing. The damn protein shake wouldn’t save her from him; she was always vulnerable to him. There was no spell against natural attraction and true desire. They’d never planned for a scenario where he was the one seducing her.
She was helpless. When he kissed her again, she found it harder to fight him, and even harder to fight that part of herself that wanted to give in.
“God, I want you so much it hurts,” she whispered against his mouth. Her head felt light as he parted her lips with his tongue, exploring her mouth. He caught her lower lip, biting it softly. She melted completely and was lost.
He swept her off her feet and carried her to his room.
Dropping her onto the bed, he followed, mounting her. He covered her mouth with searing kisses as a warm haze crept in at the edges of her vision. She let her head fall back against the pillows. He planted soft butterfly kisses along her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, as though desperate to taste every part of her he could reach. Tamara arched up into him, offering her skin as tribute to his questing, conquering mouth.
“What time we’ve wasted,” Nicholas whispered.
She moaned against his lips. “Don’t remind me . . .”
His hands slid up her belly, underneath her shirt. That first caress of his fingers on her breasts was ecstasy. He cupped the mounds, squeezing gently, rolling her beaded nipples between his thumb and forefinger. When he pinched them, Tamara gasped, bowing her back. She pressed her breasts into his palms, greedy for his touch. He slid down her and settled his mouth over a taut nipple. He tongued her, laved the tip, and nibbled the tight, sensitive flesh until she begged and pleaded for him to move to her other breast.
Nicholas’s warm laugh against her skin made her shiver. “You taste so good. I could devour you.” He sank his teeth into the soft underside of one of her breasts, and she writhed in pleasure beneath him.
“Nick . . . I’m so glad we’re doing this. I was losing my mind. I was losing myself, bit by bit, not being with you like this.” She rubbed her cheek against his hair.
“Me too. God, if you only knew, Tamara.” Nicholas captured her mouth with his, assaulting her senses with his masterful kisses.
She ached for him, her legs quivering with the need to wrap around his narrow waist, to have him inside her, possessing her with long, passionate strokes. She needed to feel him touch her, the deepest part of her.
“Tamara . . .” Nicholas gasped warningly as she fumbled with the zipper on his jeans.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she breathed in his ear.
His arms flexed as he lifted his body to rid himself of his jeans.
Tamara had barely unbuttoned her pants when Nicholas yanked them off and focused on her top. Her shirt flew off, landing on a nearby lamp, followed by her bra.
Nicholas smiled rakishly, lowering himself back down onto her. His chest pressed down on her aching breasts. Her nipples pebbled, rasping against his chest. They were so close, almost fully skin to skin. The intimacy of their bodies almost joined was better than she could have imagined. Once more, he possessed her mouth with his own, his hands wrapping around her thighs, fingers clenching in her sensitive skin. She wanted him inside her, but she loved this rough foreplay too. They had all afternoon to explore each other, to taste, tease, play with and learn the secrets of each other’s bodies.
Nicholas growled and slid two fingers beneath the silk of her underwear, penetrating her tight sheath. Her hips rose instinctively, pushing his fingers deeper inside. She moaned, and he buried his face in her neck, his ragged breath fanning against the skin below her ear, sending riotous shivers down her spine. He pushed another inch deeper, but it wasn’t enough.
Her impatience won out. “You’re taking too long.” She bucked her hips, circling them against his erection. He grunted and fisted one hand in her panties, shredding them before pressing himself back down against her. His cock slid against her wet folds, teasing her. She thrashed her head wildly on the bed. Nicholas, the king of self-denial, still didn’t enter her. When Tamara tried to touch him, he swore violently, caught her wrist, and trapped it next to her head.
His mouth was on hers again, his tongue mirroring the thrust of his fingers. Tamara’s lips moved with his as naturally as if they’d been lovers for years. She whimpered when he slid his cock against her entrance again. She needed him so bad. Tingles of pleasure flashed and burst in unpredictable patterns between her thighs. If she felt this out of control, this wild now, then she might not survive the rest.
What a way to die.
Her hands drifted over the contoured planes of his back and down to his hips. He was so beautiful, so perfect. And in this moment, he was hers, only hers. She dug her nails into his skin, urging him to keep going, pulling him closer to the place she desired. The hard muscles of his bare buttocks felt like heaven beneath her palms. She clenched them, and he bucked sharply in response, his shaft rubbing against her sensitive clit. There was no turning back, not anymore. She had to have all of him, or she would die. She writhed beneath him, gasping, demanding he take her then.
Nicholas seemed to sense her increased urgency. “Are you sure?”
His words were barely uttered before she thrust her hips against his again, taking him inside her. The sudden rush of ecstasy rendered them both breathless. He was large, and his entry hurt a little as he stretched her, filled her, but the pain barely compared to the explosion of sensations that shot through her body. No other man had ever made her feel so weak, and yet she could have moved in unison with him forever.