Sensual Excerpt – OBSIDIAN FLAME – Chapter 5

Sensual Excerpt – OBSIDIAN FLAME

This scene takes place at the outset of chapter five, when Thorne and Marguerite, through a series of adventures, end up in the Seattle One Hidden Colony.  Marguerite still has dreams of living her own life as a rogue vampire on Mortal Earth, but her level of power in the ascended world has forced Darian Greaves, the worst vampire on the planet, to set death vampires on her trail.  She must stick close to Thorne if she hopes to survive.

Caught in the grip of the breh-hedden, Thorne can’t stay away from Marguerite and when she decides to take a shower, he can’t resist joining her!

Here’s what happens in Chapter 5, OBSIDIAN FLAME!

Excerpt from Chapter 5…

 

 

Life is full

Of a thousand firsts.

Savor each one.

 

Collected Proverbs –  Beatrice of Fourth

Chapter Five

 

Marguerite laughed.  She shouldn’t have, not when he spoke of death vamp guts.  She didn’t know why she wasn’t squeamish, but then she never had been.  What he said should have made her puke.  Instead, this all just felt so normal.  As he lifted her to her feet, she led the way into the back bedroom.  The cabin was fairly small, three-and-a-half rooms total.

The bathroom had a roomy shower but no tub.

Thorne moved to the shower and flipped on the water.  He got rid of his clothes with a wave of his hand.  He still faced the shower so she had a fine view of his ass.  She tilted her head and sighed.

His skin was golden in color like it was permanently tanned and there wasn’t a line on him.  His hair hung down his back.  She loved his long warrior hair, always had.

He stretched out his hand beneath the water, testing.

His left butt cheek flexed and his hamstring tightened, his calf muscle, too.  She wasn’t sure but her jaw may have just trembled.  The man was gorgeous.

He stepped inside and turned toward her, a beautiful profile view.  His cock was partially erect and in terms of pure beauty, this was her preference.  He wasn’t standing upright but he wasn’t limp, either.  She wanted to be on her knees right now and worshiping.

She waved a hand and lost her leathers.   Then took a little extra care with her feather earrings, settling them on the counter.

When she turned toward him, his gaze fell to the juncture of her thighs.  She’d almost forgotten how different she was down there from the last time he’d seen her.

“Wow,” he murmured.  “A beautiful peach.”  His eyes fell to half-mast.

She knew that look.  She savored that look.  Then suddenly she realized he’d had sex with another woman just a couple of hours ago and her temper flared.  She jumped in the shower and punched his left pec.

“What was that for, hellcat?”

“You slept with someone else.”

She turned into the spray and he was suddenly up behind her and moving what was now completely solid up and down her butt cheeks.  He had to bend his knees to get there.  This was the only thing she didn’t like about their disparity in height; some adjustments were necessary.

His hands found her breasts as the water hit her face and drenched her hair.

“You smell like roses.”

“I thought you wanted to talk about my visions.”

“In a minute.  I’m not clean enough yet.”

She laughed.  “No, you’re not.”

She grabbed a bar of soap and made a big bubbly lather between her hands.  She turned into him and spread the bubbles over his shoulders and chest.  He was so big.  The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, which put her face at pec level, a really fantastic place to be.

She started scrubbing and getting him clean.  The whole time he touched her, his hands rubbing over her shoulders, down her arms, lightly over her breasts, her waist, her hips.  He teased her mound a little with the crook of his knuckle, but mostly he let her just wash him and she found she enjoyed it.

It dawned on her that because there had never been private showers in the Convent, this was the first time she’d bathed with Thorne.

She stepped aside and let the shower spray hit all that foamy soap.  She helped rinse it off his chest.  She lathered up again and cleaned his thighs.  There was a lot of man to cover and she went all the way to his feet.

She just wasn’t certain why except that she’d always loved his body.

She then ordered him to turn around.  She performed the same ministration on his back and shoulders.  He sighed a couple of times.  She wasn’t sure what that meant.

She spent extra time on his ass, working the muscles slowly, cleaning down the crack and gliding over his balls from behind.  A sigh became a familiar groan.

But she wasn’t done.  She soaped up the backs of his legs, savoring the feel of the hair all the way down.

Of course, she’d saved the best for last and as she rose up, she demanded that he turn around once more to face her.

“I’m going to use my hand now and make sure you’re really clean.”

A kind of growlish-grunt came out of his mouth but he said, “I like your short blond hair.  I thought I’d miss all that brown length but I don’t.  This look suits you.”

She smiled up at him, craning her neck.  “I must look like a drowned rat.”

He shook his head.  “Nope.  You’re beautiful.”  He dipped down and kissed her.  “Now, what were you saying about getting me really clean?”  He smiled and suddenly her chest felt on fire.  Oh, God, she couldn’t really be in love with him, not really in love with him, could she?

She glanced down and his length bobbed in front of her, hard and ready for her hands.  She slid her soapy fingers over him.  His back arched and his thighs flexed.  “Shit, that feels good.”

That same fire-laden sensation continued to invade her chest as she worked his cock, gliding up and back, taking her time, thumbing the broad crown.  She liked this man.  She always had.  She pretended to be completely engaged in her task, but her mind had spiraled elsewhere.  She kept digging up images of Thorne coming to her at dawn at the Convent, making love to her on that horrible bed, enjoying and savoring her body, each time so intense like it would be the last.

But here she was in the security of a strange unknown colony on Mortal Earth, hidden away, and she was actually spending time with him, and taking her time.  She’d always been afraid that Grace would come back and wouldn’t that have been embarrassing for brother and sister.

So here she was taking pleasure in doing something she’d never done with him before, just stroking him and playing with him.  He was so damn hung, something of course, as perverted as she was, she loved about him.

The soap had a slight floral scent, but the shower had filled with that fragrant cherry tobacco scent of his, which had begun working like a couple of quick perfect fingers between her legs.  Desire spun through her now.

Thorne released a rush of air like he was holding back a cyclone, then spun her gently away from the spray and eased her against the shower wall, but still facing her.  He was breathing hard.

“I need you,” he whispered.  He got in close and spoke into her ear.  The whole time she worked his cock, all the way to the base and back.

“I need you, too.”  Her voice sounded like rocks covered with mashed potatoes.  She cleared her throat.  Okay, so they were both breathing hard.

He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up, letting her back stay snug against the wall.  She knew where he was headed, so she wrapped her legs around his waist.  The position put her closer to eye-level so she didn’t have to look so far up.

“Do it,” she whispered but she planted a hand on his chest and pushed just a little.  “Not so close, though.  I want to watch.”

That beautiful smile of his appeared again.

She looked down and this time she smiled because her recent wax gave her the best view she’d ever had of Thorne’s cock entering her.  She tilted her hips a little.  His knees were bent and his thighs flexed as he pushed, just a little at a time.  His cock was dark pink and rigid, a solid pole entering her and as his body pulsed and pushed, a hiss slid from between her teeth.

“So, good.  I love this, Thorne.  I do, I do.”

“Oh, yeah.”  Could his voice get any deeper.  “I’m almost all the way in.  Shit, Marguerite, you’re so damn tight.  Almost like ear–I mean, like all those other times.”

“All those other times?”

“Yeah, in the Convent.  Never mind.  Shit you feel so good.”

He’d almost said ‘earlier’.  She was sure of it.  Had he done some kind of mind-diving when she’d been bonking Jose?  Could he do that kind of thing?

She might have pursued it, but he’d reached the end of her and now he was pulling back out, a slow-sensual withdrawal that brought a deep moan out of her throat.  She arched her neck and he didn’t wait for further invitation.  He licked her throat and her vein rose so fast that she wasn’t surprised that he struck quickly and started drinking.

Oh, God, she sent.  She hadn’t meant to do that, to enter his mind but there she was.

You taste so good.

You’re so hard, rock hard.

He thrust in a steady driving pace and it was heaven.  Between all that thickness moving in and out and the feel of his mouth sucking hard at her neck and taking her blood, she was on the cusp, heavily on the cusp.

But it felt different somehow, different in a really good way.  That she’d thought of mind-diving made her wonder what it would be like.  She knew she had power, lots of it, and she also knew that being deep in the mind of another vampire could trigger some added pleasure.

Thorne?

Yeah, baby.  Oh, God you’re blood.  I can feel it working my muscles.  I feel stronger.  Just…just tell me what you want but damn I’m close.

I want in, as in deep-mind engagement.  Now.

He’d never allowed it before because Endelle had a mind-link with him and he’d always feared she’d discover the truth and ship her ass to the Superstition Fortress.

A long pause.  Maybe he was figuring out the question.  Or maybe the hesitation meant something else.

The sucking slowed as did the surge of his hips.

You sure?

Yeah.

He resumed the heavy sucking and began pushing into her with deep thrusts.  Do it, he sent.

She hissed and mentally gave a big push and suddenly she was just inside his mind as deep as she could get.

He groaned long and loud but kept pulling at her neck.

But the image that hit her brought pleasure streaking through her, bringing her close.  She could see Thorne over her, making love to her, but he wasn’t himself, he was Jose, or in his mind or something.

Maybe she should have been mad.  Instead, she gave a cry because it was hot as hell and Thorne began to pound into her, the sound of his flesh against hers a loud slap even with the water still hitting his back.

The orgasm crashed down on her, almost as hard as the recent vision so that she was suddenly clinging to him and experiencing pleasure like she had never known before.  Being in his mind was a ride or maybe the ride, the part of the experience she’d needed all this time, all these decades to really go through the roof.

And it just kept rolling, over and over, sharpening along her bare clit, streaking up the inside of her until she was pulling hard on Thorne’s cock, begging him to give her what she wanted.

Give it to me, she practically shouted within his mind.

Fuck, came back to her.

He shoved into her hard, released her neck, and shouted at the ceiling.

She could feel his release and because she was in his mind, she could even experience his pleasure, which triggered hers all over again, so that as he thrust hard, she came and came and came, crying out and pressing her mound against him.

It’s never been like this.

“No, it hasn’t.”  His movements slowed, but his breathing was a harsh rasp in the shower.

“I’m shutting the water off,” he said.  “Damn that got cold.”  He must have used his mind because he didn’t let go of her and suddenly the water stopped spraying.  “I don’t want to let go of you yet.”

“You’d better not,” she said.  She slid her arms up around his neck then she kissed him.  “I like being inside your head.  That was the best fuck we’ve ever done together.”

He nodded and chuckled.  “You’re a pain in the ass, Marguerite, but I love the way you talk to me.”

“I’m gonna leave your head now,” she said.

Again, he nodded.  His lips were parted as he sucked in air.

She pulled out of his mind and it was the strangest rubbery sensation, like pulling taffy or something, until at last she left him.  Still, he remained in the shower, holding her ass firmly in both hands and keeping them joined.

She wiggled her hips so that she could feel him deep inside.  “This feels good,” she said.  She looked into his eyes, gorgeous hazel eyes. Usually, they were blood-shot, but not now.  Of course, he’d been off-duty for three weeks chasing her across the country and back, which meant he’d been off the Ketel One.

Now here they were, joined like two people would be joined who’d been making love for a century.  Only this had been better.  Of course, they’d only had sex while she’d been held captive and he’d been worked to death as a warrior.

There was however one issue she needed clearing up.

“So, what the hell was that with Jose?”

“Oh, was that his name?”

“You know damn well that’s his name.  You were in his head, weren’t you?  And when you’d had sex, you didn’t mean with another woman, did you?  What was this, like some kind of ménage-a-trois.”

“I guess,” he said, with a slight shrug.  “Worked for me.  And it kept me from killing him.”

Her shoulders dropped and she leaned her head against his neck and sighed.  “I’m glad.  I couldn’t stand the thought of you with another woman.  I know that makes me the worst kind of hypocrite when I shagged Jose, but I think I’d kill her.  I’m beginning to understand why that woman with the long dark hair was so upset with me. What was her name?  The one bonded to that tall gorgeous Italian?”

“Parisa.”

“Yeah, she about ripped my face off when I flirted with her man.”

“I remember.”  His arms tightened around her.

“I’d be like that if we took this much further.  I’d want to kill any woman who looked at you.”

“Then tell me you understand my dilemma a little.”

She lifted up, her arms still hooked around his neck.  “So you wanted to kill Jose?”

“Yeah.  I almost did, too.  Then I worked it out in my head.”

“Or his head.”

“I guess you could say that.”

She yawned.  “You want to sleep with me tonight?”

“Thought I already did.”

She thumped his shoulder.  “In bed, idiot.”

He squeezed her ass.  “Did you actually think I was going anywhere else?”

She laughed.  “No, I guess not.”

He shuddered.

“What?” she asked.

“We get to sleep together…all night.”

“Thorne, please….please don’t get too used to this.”

He gave her a soft smile.  “No worries, not right now.  Let’s just get some rest.  We’ll figure things out tomorrow.  And since there are Seers in this colony, maybe they’ll have some insight about your visions.”

“Okay.”

He thumbed her cheek and stared into her eyes.

His gaze was full of something she didn’t quite recognize except that it warmed up her chest all over again and made her put her lips against his.  He kissed her fiercely, pushing his tongue inside her mouth, a kind of claiming.

She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck.

He kissed her for a long time.  Because he’d firmed up inside her again, she wondered if he was headed toward a second quick fuck.  She wouldn’t have said no, but suddenly she was really tired.

“Okay, bedtime.”  But he sighed heavily as he withdrew from her like he didn’t like being apart either.

He flipped the lever and the cold water came one.  “Sorry there’s no hot water left.”

She didn’t mind the cold so much.  She’d been used to it for decades in the Convent.

He stepped out of the shower as she finished up.  When she finally emerged, he had a towel waiting for her, holding it wide.  She stepped into it and he wrapped her up from behind.

Why the hell did he have to be such a nice guy?  Didn’t he know this was killing her?

* * *   * * *   * * *

OBSIDIAN FLAME     Amazon     Barnes & Noble     iTunes     Kobo    Sony

Caris Roane is the author of five paranormal novels for St. Martin’s Press and several indie pubbed novellas.  Writing as Valerie King, she has published fifty novels and Novellas in Regency Romance.  Caris lives in Phoenix, Arizona, really doesn’t like scorpions, and has two cats, Gizzy and Sebastien.

(Photographer/artist – please note:  If any of the above photos belong to you, I would be happy to include your credit here as well as a link to your website!  Thanks, Caris Roane)

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