“How,” she wheezed hysterically, “can you move so fast? You’re a cripple! You should hobble on wood and bone crutches! Push a stone walker!”
He didn’t make a move to touch her, didn’t say anything, just stared, completely unwinded where she struggled to catch her breath.
“Go away! Leave me alone! You said you would, so go now!” She took a stumbling step back and turned to face away from him.
“I can’t.”
The cold wind blew sand and dry grass past her. “Why?”
“Some things simply are. They don’t need answers.” He was very near, she sensed.
Addie buried her face in her hands and shook her head mutely. Her thoughts were a tangle of flaxy thread without a beginning or an end.
“Look at me,” his order crackled in the wind.
She refused.
“If you want me to leave, tell me. Don’t run.”
She bolted.
But this time, she didn’t get ten steps in. Strong hands reached from behind and jerked her to an abrupt stop. Everything tilted as Zoark swung her into his arms, so easily. Addie cried, a small cry of distress, of fear, of hope, and clung to his neck.
He was walking, the uneven lilt of his gate calming and arousing.
“Zoark…”
“I know.”
He shifted direction, and after a few long strides, wedged them between two boulders, squeezed past, and emerged at a clearing where green moss carpeted the ground and the rocks, a cushioned lair, a lovely, magical spot just for the two of them.
He dropped down to sit with Addie in his lap and kissed her.
She opened her mouth, giving him full access, licking him in return. She tasted his essence, thrust her tongue to explore the texture of the inside of his mouth, found sharp points of his teeth, deliciously tantalizing. So much power - and all hers. No one tasted like him. Her hands burrowed in his long hair, caressed his neck. No one felt like Zoark, either. Finally, to be able to touch him, to absorb the texture of his skin felt like heaven.
He grunted, a short sound of deep pleasure, and, as if reading her mind, pulled his shirt off. His chiseled shoulders marred by deep scars flexed and rolled under Addie’s fingers. He was tugging at her dress, interrupting the wonder of her exploration.
“Take it off.”
“It’s cold.”
“I’ll warm you up, I promise.”
She laughed, raising her arms up so he could pull the garment off her body. The cold wind blew, but she was partially shielded from it by those wide shoulders, and when his mouth closed around the tip of her breast, the wind stopped being a factor at all.
“Zoark,” she whispered urgently, arching her back to provide better access to her body. “Zoark…”
She knew he was holding back still, being cautious, aware of her every reaction. He sucked hard, playing. She moaned and ground her pelvis against him, reveling in the answering hardness.
He lifted his head and surveyed her breasts with a critical eye. Her nipples were puckered and wet. He liked what he saw. Slowly, he raised his eyes to her face, and the warm, orangey glow of his For eyes seared Addie. She smiled at him encouragingly and a little unsure. He didn’t smile back.
And then his control split.
He flipped her over to sprawl on the moss and ripped her silly undergarment off, leaving her wearing her boots and nothing else. Pushing her knees aside, he looked her up and down, the whole length of her, lingered at her secret place, wet and ready.Thenhe smiled.
“There you are. I remember what you looked like down here.” His finger traced her slit. “From your Jat sand bath.”
“Zoark!” She remembered it, too. She also remembered imagining how he would lean down and taste her.
