The taste of him intensified, and his shaft grew even larger.Leo let out a growl and encouraged her to take as much of him as she could.She swallowed, and he grunted.She swallowed again and followed it up with a hum of recognition.This man, with his indomitable spirit, fascinated her.She admired his courage and she realized if she met him here again, she’d do anything he asked.
Leo’s grip tightened on her head, his fingers yanked on locks of her hair.Another of those sexy moans issued from his throat, and he came in long, hard spurts.
At first, the shock of his semen hitting her throat made her still, then she swallowed on reflex, enjoying doing this personal act because it was Leo.
His grip loosened, and he pulled from her mouth.Without a word, he hauled her to her feet and led her over to the sleep-bed.With a gentle hand, he pushed her down, and she fell, legs splayed in an unfeminine fashion.She tried to bring her knees together, to arrange her body in a semblance of dignity.
“Don’t,” he barked at her.
Astonished, she glanced at him and stilled.He sported a weird twist to his mouth as if he couldn’t quite believe the situation or what had just happened.
Times two, she thought.And that was an understatement.
When she remained unmoving, his attention traveled to the spot between her legs.“Scoot over,” he said, and relief swamped her fears.
Every dream held meaning, and this one was beyond weird.Or maybe not.Once she’d signed up Leo, part of her had hated handing the contract over to Iseult.She’d wanted Leo for herself.Obviously, on the dreamscape, she felt confident enough to claim him.She sighed at the vagaries of her world.Goddess, she might as well enjoy the experience since sex with Leo would never happen in reality.
Leo hated her, and his future was limited since Iseult would kill him at their next meeting.The Spiderus woman murdered all her lovers, and there was nothing either she or Leo could do to change his fate.
“You’re not my normal type,” Leo said, breaking the silence that had fallen.
“What is your type?”she asked, startled by the fact he was speaking to her.Normally their interactions were confined to stony silence and accusing glares.
“I enjoy confident women.Women who are comfortable in their own bodies and dress accordingly.”
“You dislike my robes?”
“They help you blend into the background.”
The camouflage was a defense mechanism, a requirement around Iseult.If she behaved like furniture, she became part of the décor, and she raised her chances of living to see the next day and her son.
He stared at her a fraction longer before dipping his head and claiming her lips in a kiss.She expected ferocity.She expected anger.She expected punishment.
Leo Mitchell surprised her with gentleness and seduction.He traced his tongue over her lips, learning the shape of her mouth.His quick nip of her bottom lip surprised her.She gasped while he took advantage of further exploration.
He gathered her closer, pressing his muscular chest against her breasts.The sensations tumbled over her.Softness against hardness.Female against male.
His breath carried a faint tinge of mint while his scent held an addictive herby aroma that brought to mind open spaces and freedom.She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, wanting to wallow in the sensations of touch and taste and scent.
The sole person to touch her these days was her son, and Iseult monitored their meetings.The woman wanted to keep her slave and procurer locked into her contract, under her control.
It worked, and Betrys fell into line without argument.Anything to keep her son safe.
Leo slapped her shoulder, the sting giving her a fright rather than pain.“Don’t wander,” he ordered.“I’m here.I don’t know why or how, but I’m here, and for some reason, I want you.We are going to have sex, and you will stay with me every step of the way.”
His glare was dark green and fierce, yet strangely, she wanted to laugh.Confusion filled him as much as her—two lost souls stumbling on the dreamscape.
“Don’t let your mind roam, or I’ll stand and walk away.”The tight set of his face told her this was no idle threat.
“I’m sorry,” she said and meant every word.She should—they should—enjoy this opportunity because the chances were they’d both die at Iseult’s hands.
Unpalatable but true.
Decision made, Betrys relaxed.The instant their lips met, hunger exploded, and she rolled, taking him by surprise.Grinning, she continued to kiss him, but now her hands wandered too, charting masculine territory.Sleek, sexy muscles.Hidden strength.His chest, stomach and back bore scars from his two sessions with Iseult, yet they’d healed to blend more naturally with his skin tone.
She trailed kisses down his throat and took a teasing nibble from the fleshy part between shoulder and neck.He shuddered, making a gasping sound as she dragged her tongue over the spot she’d nibbled.His erection went from interested to rampant against her leg.
Fascinating.
