StoneHardPassion Page 6

  She shrugged, rubbed her forehead, trying to release some of the frustration and anger. “I don’t know. I feel like everything I thought I knew was a lie. My brother Ahmet and I were close. I always thought the messages I received, letting me know what was happening at home, came from him, but now I don’t know. Why would he send Mahmud, of all people, to tell me of my father’s death?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Suddenly she couldn’t stay there a moment more. For the first time since she started tattooing at the Café, she wanted to get away from it.

  “I have to get out of here.” Impulsively, she looked up at Vidar, reached out to touch his cheek. “Come with me. We’ll go traveling for a couple of weeks, see some of those places you said you wanted to. I just need to stop off at home and pick up a couple of things, then we can take off.”

  His expression of regret was clear, and she knew his response before he even voiced it. “I can’t, Jazz. I have animals at home to care for and, besides, it wouldn’t be as much fun for you, with me not being able to go out in the daylight.”

  The strength of her disappointment surprised her, but she forced a little smile. “I understand. It’s okay.”

  “You could come stay with me.” He looked as surprised as she felt hearing his words, and the corners of his mouth tilted in self-deprecating humor as he continued. “I’d really like that.”

  Joy flowed through her and she grinned in return. “I’d love to spend some time with you. Should I meet you at a portal?”

  “No.” His jaw tightened, and she knew what it cost him to say, “We’ll translocate to your place. I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”

  She snorted, but inside pleasure washed in a warm wave out from her belly. “Worrywart.”

  “Uh-huh. And your point is?”

  “No point.” She took his hand, preparing to transport them both. “Ready for an adventure?”

  “Yes.” The light in his eyes made her heart sing. “Definitely.”

  Chapter Six

  Vidar opened his eyes and let out the breath he’d been holding. His heart was still racing.

  “You okay?”

  Avoiding Jasmina’s gaze, not sure how much of his trepidation at translocation showed on his face, he pretended to look around her apartment. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Her snort told him she wasn’t fooled. “All right then. Make yourself comfortable.” She moved toward a door on the other side of the room, then paused. “You mind if I grab a shower? I feel grubby.”

  “No, I don’t mind.” By Freyja, he wished he didn’t immediately imagine her sleek and wet under a rain of water droplets. Even if she were interested, she was in a fragile emotional state. His stomach clenched. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to take that monumental step and be completely intimate with her. As ferocious as his need for her, the knowledge of his inexperience made him cringe. “Take your time. I’ll wait.”

  “Thanks.” The look she gave him made something tighten in his belly, but he tried to ignore it. “I won’t be too long.”

  When she disappeared through the door, he exhaled, rubbing a palm over one cheek.

  What had gotten into him when he suggested she come stay with him?

  Not that he didn’t want her there. He couldn’t think of much that he wanted more than to have her with him, night and day. But that was going to stretch his control to the limit.

  Trying to take his mind off the disquieting thought, and imagining what was probably happening in her bedroom, he finally took a good look around the apartment.

  It was modern, streamlined, enlivened into something more than a box by bright walls, rugs and comfortable-looking upholstered furniture. The place really fit Jasmina’s personality, and he recognized artwork and knickknacks commemorating some of the places she’d visited. Seeing the preponderance of plants made him happy, and he stroked his fingers through the fronds of a nearby palm.

  A glance outside showed a busy street and another apartment building across the way. Clearly they were in the center of the city, and he could easily imagine Jasmina as a part of the hubbub going on outside. Watching it for just a few moments, seeing the folks rushing around a few stories below, caused him a tweak of anxiety. He just wasn’t used to being around that many people.

  And he felt like a giant in the midst of the small room, hardly daring to move from where he was standing in case he knocked something over. Inching almost sideways, he moved to the entrance of the galley kitchen, sticking his head in for a peek. He liked how clean and tidy it was, and even the hint of something savory and spicy lingering in the air was pleasant. There was a pass-through between the kitchen and dining room and, on the counter were an aloe vera plant, a pile of what appeared to be tattoo patterns and a small, ornate gold box. Beautifully crafted, decorated with a crest surrounded by scrolled patterns of flowering vines and leaves, it could only be jinn, from one of their renowned metal works.

  The sound of running water came to him and, as though being pulled by an inexorable rope, he slowly crossed the little dining room to the half-closed bedroom door. Pushing it open, he hesitated on the threshold, his heart racing as Jasmina’s distinctive sweet, musky perfume enveloped him. On one hand going in seemed an intrusion. On the other, he couldn’t resist seeing her personal space, and his body tightened almost painfully as he took in the large platform bed with its silk coverlet and hangings. It was too easy to picture her spread out naked on the creamy bedding, her skin glowing golden, eyes gleaming in invitation.

  Vidar knew he should back out, close the door, but he took a step farther instead. There was a tote on the trunk at the foot of the bed, something red, sheer and feminine spilling out, and he couldn’t help running it through his fingers. A shuddering shock of lust fired up his spine as it slid against his skin. A glance inside the bag showed nothing but a dark, misty space, and he realized it must be enchanted to hold as much as she wanted.

  Moving to the side of the bed, he touched the quilt, then carefully picked up a long, black hair from the pillow. He’d never seen her with her hair down, but he’d dreamed so many times of what it would feel like swishing over his body. Letting the strand flutter from his fingers, he pushed at his erection with his palm, trying to find a more comfortable position for his engorged flesh. It didn’t work and, overwhelmed, he knew he had to get out of there.

  As he was about to turn a gleam caught his eye and he paused, bending to peer toward the head of the bed. Something caught and reflected light from the lamp on the low table and Vidar reached under the pillow to pull the object out. It took a moment before he recognized what it was.

  Oh Freyja.

  Staring at the glass phallus, heart pounding, hardly able to catch a breath, Vidar turned it from side to side, his shocked mind taking in the lifelike sculpting. He’d read about such things, even seen pictures in books, but never thought of them as anything but a curiosity. Now, finding one in Jasmina’s bedroom, he realized it was a raw, powerful turn-on. He wanted to use it on her, watch the pink glass penetrate her, see what it looked like as her body took its length.

  A drop of sweat trickled into his eye, stinging him back to reality, just as the shower was turned off. Panic tried to rear its head, but he wouldn’t let it engulf him. For too long he’d allowed fear to rule his life. If he truly wanted Jasmina, he had to become more than he’d ever been before.

  Yet he also wasn’t keen on the thought of her catching him snooping either, so he moved toward the door, pausing when he realized he still held the glass phallus in his hand. On impulse, he dropped it into the open tote before silently going back out into the living area, pulling the door back to its previous position as he went. Pausing outside the door, he lifted the tail of his shirt to wipe his face. Dear Freyja, he was a mess. Inside his blood flowed like lava and his muscles were almost locked with tension. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took several deep breaths, willed his heart rate to slow. There was nothing to be done about his erection. It w
as a constant whenever he was with Jasmina.

  Moving across the room to the window, he stood facing it without really seeing outside.

  “Vidar.”

  He turned to Jasmina and his heart stopped, his lungs seized.

  She was naked, her waist-length black hair swirling around her golden body, the colorful tattoos emphasizing her high, firm breasts, small waist and trim hips. Lifting her hand, she pushed her hair back, then slowly swept her palm down, tracing a path from her neck to her stomach, bringing it to a halt just above her almost clean-shaven mound.

  He swallowed, didn’t even attempt to speak, unable to stop looking at her, lust boiling like magma in his belly. When his gaze rose to her face, she was smiling slightly, but her heavy-lidded eyes told the story of her desire.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d make the first move, so I figured I’d save you the trouble.” Her voice was confident but she lightly bit her bottom lip. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “No.” The growl in his voice shocked him, but couldn’t cool his yearning. “I don’t mind.” Jasmina’s smile widened and she took a step closer. Vidar held up his hand and she stopped, her eyes rounding in surprise. “Stay there. I want to look at you.”

  Her cheeks grew pinker, and she licked her lips. Her breath was ragged when she inhaled. “Okay.”

  By Freyja, she was gorgeous. Even more so than his active imagination had been able to conjure. He’d seen photographs and paintings of nude women, used that information to try to picture what Jasmina would look like unclothed. There had been no way to know how much more beautiful she would be in reality, with a welcoming smile on her face, the light gleaming on her skin.

  His brain struggled to take it all in. Dark nipples, peaked and tempting. Flat, toned stomach, the bright roc feathers sweeping across her torso, a jinn word tattooed above her pierced bellybutton. Long, amazing legs. Narrow, beautiful feet, toes curled into the rug.

  “By all that’s holy.” Her voice was a low whisper, hot as the need in his chest. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna have an orgasm before you can even touch me.”

  “Good.” He didn’t know what he was saying, couldn’t think, only react. “I’m just about ready to come in my pants too.”

  “Shit.” She lifted a hand in appeal. “Don’t make me wait.”

  Something feral exploded in his chest. He didn’t understand, but couldn’t fight it—didn’t want to fight. “Lie down, and I’ll come to you.”

  Her lips opened, as though to argue, but the blush on her chest and face intensified. After a moment she gave a little whimper and sank gracefully to the rug. Sweeping her hair to one side, her gaze never leaving his, she lay on her back.

  “Like this?”

  “Oh yes.” He stripped off his outer jacket and began to unbutton his cuffs. A distant part of his brain was surprised at the steadiness of his fingers when the rest of his body was a trembling mess. “Just like that.”

  One quick tug had his shirt off over his head, but he didn’t wait to finish stripping the rest of his clothes away. His fingers tingled, the need to touch her overwhelming every other consideration. Two steps took him to her side. He knelt, was still too far away, so he lay down on his side, facing her. Jasmina started to roll toward him.

  “Stay where you are.” She froze, stared at him, wide-eyed, as he continued. “I’m going to touch you now.”

  He heard the threat in his voice, that he wouldn’t start if she moved, and didn’t truly understand where it came from. All he comprehended was he couldn’t bear it right now if she put a hand on him.

  Jasmina subsided and he saw the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, the movement of her throat as she swallowed. “I’m all yours.”

  Not yet—but you will be.

  Even with that fierce thought, worry about his inexperience feathered down his spine again, had to be pushed away. He trusted her to help him, even if she didn’t know she was doing so.

  “If I do anything you don’t like, tell me.”

  “I don’t like that you won’t let me touch you.”

  Something akin to a smile tugged at his lips, but his skin shivered over tightly strung muscles at the same time. “Not negotiable.”

  She licked her lips. “I don’t like that you promised to touch me, and you haven’t.”

  He could remedy that.

  Gladly.

  But he wanted to go as slowly as he could, savor every second of this amazing, once-in-a-lifetime occurrence.

  So he traced her eyebrows, cheeks and jaw with one finger. Jasmina moaned softly, tilted her head back, exposing her throat. So he touched that too, licking his lips as the silken flesh stretched taut and sweet beneath his fingers. When he pressed his mouth to the same spot, licking and sucking gently, her entire body arched, shuddering, and she gasped his name.

  Now he couldn’t take his mouth away. The sweet taste of her had gotten into his system, and he couldn’t do without it. He traced the hollow of her throat and each collarbone with his tongue before moving down.

  “I always wanted to see your tattoos.” Leaning back slightly, he followed the shape of a feather with his fingertip, skimming past a beaded nipple. Jasmina lifted her torso as though trying to follow the motion, another gasp breaking from her lips.

  “All you had to do was ask.”

  He didn’t reply. Instead, spreading his fingers, he stroked over her tattoos again and again, loving the high sounds she made, the way her body rose and trembled at his caresses. Glancing up, he found her eyes closed, her lips open as she panted.

  Bending his head, he took one nipple into his mouth.

  “Yes…”

  Jasmina’s fingers tunneled into his hair, holding him close. Just that simple touch made his cock jerk and instinctively he reached up and grabbed her wrists, pulled them away. Lifting his head, he met her glazed eyes.

  “Didn’t I say not to touch?”

  An anguished moan broke from her lips, and her body writhed. “Please, Vidar, don’t…”

  “You want me to stop?”

  “No. No!” She spread her arms out to the sides, curled her fingers into the carpet. “Don’t stop.”

  There was no time to ponder why her submission made him crazy with lust. He only knew it did, and that it drove her a little crazy too, so he had to go on.

  “Good girl.” With the tip of his tongue, he traced her nipple. “Good girl.”

  Time seemed to slow to a stretch of glorious, heat-drenched moments. He couldn’t get enough of her breasts, her reactions as he licked and sucked, even nipped at them. Pressing the soft flesh together, he went back and forth, drinking in her gasps, the shuddering jerks of her body. And a new scent inundated his head—the evidence of Jasmina’s arousal—deep and delicious, drawing him with a force as strong as gravity.

  So he went lower, felt her body tighten to trembling stiffness as he licked her belly, tugged on the diamond stud in her navel. Lower still, to the smooth, pale flesh between her thighs, the plump little mound bisected by a thin line of dark hair. Her thighs were parted, one knee out to the side, the other trapped alongside his body. With a finger he smoothed over the hair and her hips jerked, curled up.

  Moving slightly away and sitting up, he put a hand on the nearest thigh, stroked the hot, golden skin, amazed to realize it was even softer than the rest of her body.

  “Open for me, Jazz.”

  She was almost silent now, except for tiny mewls that escaped with each exhale. As he shuffled around to take position between her legs, she brought the other knee up, let her thighs fall open.

  The growl that broke from his chest was almost painful in its intensity. Desperate urges drove through him as she bared herself to his gaze and he shuddered, already on the brink of orgasm, just from the sight.

  It was like seeing an exotic, erotic bloom open its petals, and he couldn’t resist touching it, stroking through the pink folds. The outer lips were puffy and slick, the inner, framing the entrance, w
ere hot and drenched. Drawn upward to the prominent clitoris, he circled it, was rewarded with another whimper of pleasure.

  But it all looked so delicate, fragile in comparison to the thickness of his finger. How could her body accommodate even that, much less his cock? Everything he’d read said it would, but he had to be sure he wouldn’t hurt her.

  With the tip of his index finger, he gently explored the opening, saw it contract at the slight touch. Her hips jerked and her thighs seemed to press farther apart. Emboldened, he pushed forward into the wet, clinging depths of her body.

  Oh Freyja.

  He’d never felt anything so sublime, so incredibly wonderful as the way her pussy fisted around his finger, seemed to tug it deeper. Pulling back, he pressed in once more, just to feel the sensation again.

  “Yes. Oh yes. More.”

  Did she mean more fingers, or more movement? Vidar decided to give her both. Adding his middle finger was a lot easier than he expected, and Jasmina seemed to really like it too. Now as he thrust she lifted her hips to meet each incursion, gasping with pleasure. It reminded him of their last encounter, when she’d wrapped her fingers around his cock and he thought he’d died and gone to Valhalla. She’d also sucked him, and that had been even better.

  His mouth watered at the thought of returning the favor, but he wasn’t sure she’d want it as much as he wanted to do it.

  Pushing his fingers in deep, he held them unmoving in her pussy, his balls pulsing in time to her rhythmic inner contractions.

  “Do you want me to kiss you there too, Jazz?”

  The walls of her pussy tightened, as a long, hard shudder moved through her body.

  “Oh, by the stars. How can you even ask?”

  Flexing his fingers, unsure, he sought clarification. “Is that a no?”

  Jasmina’s head came up, her eyes opening. The wild light in them struck an answering chord deep in his belly.

  “Fuck you, Vidar.” Her voice trembled, broke on his name. “Do you want me to beg?”

  By all the gods, the thought made his balls pull tight and he heard himself say, “Yes.”