Flame's Dawn Read Online Free Page A

to render him senseless. He had to have more of her.
    Hooking her undergarment with a finger, he slowly drew the lightweight fabric down her legs until she stepped out of it.
    The wondrous world of her flesh and her pleasure was his to explore. Verily, he wanted to feast upon her, take his time, draw out her passion. But whatever might occur outside the door necessitated a more time-sensitive encounter tonight.
    As he brushed a finger over her core, he absorbed the surprised gasp with his mouth. She was eager for him if her pelvis rocking against his hand was any indication.
    Leaning back to unzip his pants, he thanked the holy host that modern garments had much faster access for times like this.
    He couldn’t see it, but his cock, hard and ready, pointed toward Jane. Obviously, it knew what it wanted.
    He leaned into her, his damp tip brushing over her soft flesh before it stopped at her closed thighs. She shifted and bumped against the wall.
    With the close quarters, he needed a creative solution to this untenable conundrum. Patting over the shelving in the closet, he found a solid metal level that would do brilliantly.
    “Lift your leg a bit,” he whispered.
    She nipped and licked his lip, making him forget his name. Then she complied, and he directed her foot and trim ankle to a shelf a few feet off the ground.
    Another stroke of her soft flesh, and she trembled enough to rattle the shelving. He separated her folds and nudged the head of his cock into her slick core.
    Pressing her bent leg outward, he swiveled her hips to accept more of his shaft. Heaven and hell shot through his body at the contact, and he wanted to drive into her, mark her as his own, and fill her completely. With brute force of willpower, he held his Indebted strength in check. Barely.
    With slow, looping movements, he stroked until she gloved him. As he kissed her again, he pushed the rhythm faster, picking her off the ground with each thrust and swallowing her moans of pleasure.
    When he nudged her leg open further, the bliss of seating himself so impossibly deep inside pushed him to the edge. The skirt material bunched at her waist; he shoved the bra up over her breasts. Barnaby wanted to contact all of her, all at once.
    As her faint cries hit that perfect high pitch of the calm before the storm, he slowed down. Oh, sweet torture! She could torment him like this until the end of time, with nary a complaint from him.
    Unable to resist, he sped up and thrust faster than was humanly possible, driving her beyond normal human response, pushing his pleasure beyond anything he’d experienced before.
    With a death grip on his shoulders, she clutched at him and released with a hoarse gasp that she bit off. Beautiful spasms held him a willing prisoner inside of her body, and he followed a few seconds later, pouring out his release inside of her core. He wanted to fill her with himself, wanted to brand her ... as his own?
    Cold fear clutched at his chest as he struggled to reconcile his mind: two halves of an ill-fitting whole. What future did he have with this fierce and sexy woman in his arms? Did he really want to number her in his various tuppings over the centuries? He had nothing to give any woman besides a romp in the sheets.
    As a matter of fact, had Jane known about Barnaby’s true disgusting nature as a cursed Indebted killer, she might have preferred to take her chances with the VC.
    With reluctance and guilt, he eased out of her and kissed the salt from her brow. He wrapped his arms around her trembling frame as his mind spun.
    What a pickle. He couldn’t play fast and loose with her emotions in this stressful situation. Yet, that’s exactly what he was doing, wasn’t it?
    All he could offer her was this sweaty, quick slaking of their mutual need in a dark closet. Unacceptable. Not enough for a woman like Jane.
    Not for the first time in more than 400 years, he felt inadequate and unworthy as a man.
    He helped her back into her undergarment