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CHAPTER TWO

The dream came to him again when he lay down to attempt to sleep hours later. The darkness of death surrounded him at first. Blood and cries and shattered lives. Then through the pain, the scent of spring came to him. Warmth sifted through the haze of cold death, pushing it away, soothing his soul. Sultry, warm and becoming, the woman walked to him. He lay upon his hard pallet, staring up at the vision, his cock rising hard and hot as he viewed the beauty that stood before him. Her glistening white blonde hair fell to her hips, thick and lustrous. Her breasts rose full and tipped with hard pink nipples. Her cunt was covered with hair so light, so soft, he swore he could glimpse the pink flesh beneath it. And it glistened. He could see her woman’s dew lying thick and wet along the soft slit. He remembered her taste, the feel of her. She came to him when the weariness was at its peak, when he saw no hope in the endless future laid out before him. Only more and more death, then she entered, a breath of spring and hot, sweet desire.

“You came,” he whispered, grateful she had, but he had not expected it. In the midst of blood and war, he would not have called her to him.

“I will be here, beloved knight, for as long as I may.” She moved to him as he pushed the blanket from his naked body.

He was hard and hurting, needing her touch, the pleasure of her. She knelt beside him, so close he could feel the heat of her body. Her hands went to his chest, smoothing to his abdomen as she bent forward for his kiss.

How could she be so warm when she was but a dream? The heat of her body wrapped around him, stroking his desire and his need for her. Her lips stroked his with a shy, sweet promise. She had been coming to him for a year now, and still, he sensed her maidenly hesitation in reaching for her needs.

He pulled her to him, moving her to his pallet, bringing her to her back, partially beneath his body. She was fiery heat, a warmth he needed beyond anything he had known in his life. He could not resist her, would not deny her. God help him, demon or angel, he needed her as he needed the very air around him to live.

“I need you,” he groaned against her lips. “Will you surrender to me?”

She tipped her face back, those emerald green eyes shining up at him with love. Such love. How could a vision, no more than a dream, fill him with the wonderment of her devotion?

“There is no surrender,” she whispered. “I am yours. Do with me as you will.”

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“Take me into your mouth.” He was more than willing to beg if need be. His cock was certainly in a begging frame of mind. “Let me feel your desire for me. Your hunger for me.”

And she did hunger for him. He could feel it in the heated tremors of her body. Ripples of reaction that had little to do with the cold of the night, and everything to do with the fires that raged between them.

A small, mysterious smile shaped her lips. Devlin felt his scrotum tighten in anticipation as his cock jerked in longing. His thighs tightened as her nipples hardened before his very eyes.

He could look no longer though. She was moving along his body as he turned to his back. Her hand encircled the pulsing shaft that pleaded shamelessly between his thighs, her grip firm and warm. She moved slowly between his legs, her slender body glowing in the moonlight as her head lowered, her hair covering the sight of her mouth enveloping him.

In desperation he reached down, pulling the silk to one side so he could watch her lips cover him. And what a sight it was. Satin and silk, soft, pink and moist, her lips covered the bulging head of his cock. She sucked at it slowly, seeming to enjoy his taste, the very texture of the satin lined heat and steel hardness. Devlin ground his head against the pallet as the pleasure tightened his body in fiery waves. Her hands were not still, either. One stroked in long, slow movements down the thick stalk as the other played restlessly with the heavy sac between his thighs. He was suspended on a rack of pleasure. His hands clenched in her hair, his eyes able to only open to mere slits as he drank in the sight of her loving him in such a way. She savored him. Her tongue licked beneath the bulbous head, her soft moans of arousal and pleasure humming on the sensitive flesh. He clenched his teeth. He didn’t want to disgrace himself and her by spilling his seed, but he was close. So very close. Devlin cried out in denial when he felt the first, warning pulse of his release. Soft liquid spilled in her mouth as he jerked upright, pulling her quickly from the rapidly approaching eruption.

“No,” she cried out. “I would know the taste of you.”

“Mercy, my love.” His voice was strained, his breathing harsh. “I would spill my seed inside you, feeling you milk me with the soft clasp of your cunt, rather than the sweet tenderness of your lips that I so long to taste.”

He took her lips. They were silk and satin, her tongue a shy, tempting treasure as he forged into her mouth. Her taste was honey, nectar, ambrosia. She was a lover fit only for the gods, yet she lay here next to his battle-scarred body, bringing him warmth and hope.

His hands moved to her breasts. Firm, warm mounds tipped with the sweetest nipples. He wanted to suckle her into his mouth, hear her cry of lust as she rose up to meet him. His lips moved over her neck as she arched against him, anticipating, knowing his pleasures. Her hands, small and delicate, caressed his chest with a touch Lora Leigh

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that fired his desire for her. Unable to bear such sweet torment, he rose above her, his chest heaving, passion rising hard and hot in his body. Then he was lowering himself again, dragging the smooth muscles of his chest over the hot, sensitive tips of her breasts. She cried out to him, her slender fingers digging into his biceps as he held himself carefully above her.

She moved against him temptingly. Her thighs parted for his, and as always he was amazed that he was naked for her, having not remembered removing the rest of his clothing. But her hot slit was there to tease his cock, wet and slick, a tempting feast. His mouth moved over her breasts, his lips suckling at her nipples as she gasped in heated need. Pleasure overwhelmed him, drove him higher, hardened his cock until it throbbed and ached unlike anything he had known in his life.

“Your taste would drive even the gods insane with hunger,” he groaned as he nipped at her nipple, his hands going to her thighs, stroking through the soft creamy slit and reveling in her broken moan of pleasure.

“I wish only to drive you mad for me,” she sighed brokenly, twisting against him, trying to drive the fingers he used to tease her with into her body. He knew her inner flesh would be gripping, tight and hot. Her juices would coat his fingers when he sank them into the snug depth of her. He would then be lost to his own needs. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

He kissed her breasts lingeringly one last time, his tongue stroking over her nipples, loving the hardness of them, the proof of her need for him. He could wait no longer; his mouth drew a moist line down her stomach, over her abdomen. She cried out, as she had the last time he loved her in such a way. He ignored her hands as she attempted to pull him back up to her, ignored her shy entreaties. It was the weeping flesh below that he needed. The soft rain of her female flesh to fill his senses and his desires. When his tongue circled the little bud of her clitoris, she cried out for him. How soft and sweet her voice was when she pleaded with him for her climax. For a long second he took the little bud into his mouth. Toyed with it, played with it, made it swell and throb at his touch until the slick excess of her juices began to build around it. He attempted to lick it clean, drowning in the sheer beauty of her cries and the replacement of sweet passion’s syrup as he ate at her.

His head moved lower, following the path of sweet cream. It frothed beneath his tongue like warm honey, heated sugar. He licked at it. Drew it over his tongue, savored the taste and went back for more. As he drew lower, he raided the inner secrets of her cunt, stabbing his tongue into her time and again as he groaned out his hunger into her flesh. His hand moved to the needy clit above, his thumb exerting minimal pressure. It was enough. She cried out his name, her thighs tightening on his head, her vagina convulsing, sending the warm flow of her release into his mouth. Devlin could wait no longer. He moved along her body, spreading her legs wide, bringing them to his hips as he lodged the thick head of his cock against her tender opening.

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“Now,” she begged him, her head tossing, her hair laying about her like the softest rays of the moon. “Do it now.”

He slid in by slow, painful degrees. She was tight. So very tight he had to grit his teeth and fight back his own release. She gripped the head of his cock like a soft oven, pulsing around him, her dew easing his way through the fist-tight channel. She was as tight as a virgin, as hot as fire.

“I need to take you hard,” he cried out, unable to sustain his control any longer, and hating himself for it. Hating the need that poured over him until he couldn’t think, couldn’t find the control to ease her way.

“Hard,” she agreed with a ragged whisper. “Hard, Devlin. Fill me now—”

Their cries shattered the night. Devlin plunged his cock to the very depths of her gripping cunt, hearing her scream beneath him, arch to him. He cried out himself as she gripped him so tight and hot he knew he would never be free of her. There was no hope of control then. He held her hips with hard hands, plunging into her over and again, the slap of his scrotum on her ass drew images he never believed possible to his brain as he wondered how much tighter, how much hotter her vulnerable netherhole would be.

He groaned, feeling her nails biting into his shoulders as he came to his knees, seeing her face twisting in such beauty, such pleasure it was enough to drive a man insane. He fucked her as he always did, as he could not keep from doing. He drove into her fast and hard, feeling the pulse of her dew-slick flesh, the tightening, the shudders of her slender body.

His cock was on fire. He heaved against her, fighting for breath, burying himself inside her until he swore he could go no deeper. The thick shaft was burning, throbbing, then he felt her tighten further and heard her scream of release. It echoed around him, in him, lighting his soul, and sweeping away that darkness that had once lingered there.

He came with a harsh, soul-torn cry. His cock erupted, spilling his seed inside her flesh, feeling her grip him, the tremors of her inner body urging more and more of the thick liquid from his straining cock.

Devlin collapsed over her, his breathing hard, rough. Her hands stroked his hair, her lips whispered over his face and he slept once more. His soul eased and as her voice whispered of love and eternities and destinies born, he gave up his battles for but a few more hours.

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