Shield of Winter

Chapter 50

IVY FROZE WITH the sweater bunched below her breasts. “No?”

“I have to fill the bathtub with water.”

Blinking, she went to part her lips as if to ask a question, but he couldn’t wait. He strode to the bathroom and turned on the cold faucet at full blast.

Ivy appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, frown lines marring her forehead. She snapped her fingers the next instant. “It’s to help you control your ’porting in some way.”

He loved her mind as much as every other part of her. “Yes.” Not sure he’d remember to turn off the faucet once she bared herself, he waited with bone-grinding patience for the tub to fill. And as he did, he suddenly thought of the one thing they’d never discussed. “Ivy, if we share biological—”

“I took care of it,” she said, cheeks red. “While we were still back at the compound.”

The feeling deep inside him, he identified it as a smile of unalloyed delight. “Way back then?”

“Oh shush.” Laughing admonishment. “I asked Sascha’s advice, and she arranged for the DarkRiver healer to drop by since the healer also has medical training, plus she’s made it a point to learn about Psy physiology, so . . . ”

Vasic remembered the healer coming in; at the time, he’d thought she was simply being welcoming to the Es. “She brought baked goods.”

“Yes.” A sweet smile that cut him off at the knees. “I knew I was thinking much too far ahead, but . . . I was hopeful.”

“Ivy.” Clenching his fists, he stared at the wall. “I won’t last if you look at me that way.”

Soft, sensual laughter. “The bath’s about to overflow.”

Finally.

Walking Ivy backward into the bedroom, he stopped by the bed. “We may travel,” he told her, “but I’ve programmed a repeating loop in my head that should only take us to the desert and back.” He’d done it yesterday, before the outbreak. “No snow.”

“I’d go anywhere with you.”

Tracing her smile with a fingertip, he kissed her, his hand in her hair. I really like kissing you, Ivy. The intimacy, the wet, the way her breath became shorter and shorter the longer he did it. I think I’m developing preferences when it comes to tactile contact.

So am I. She splayed her hands on his chest, nails lightly scratching as she ran them down and over the ridges of his abdomen to his navel. Where she began to trace the fine line of hair that led into the partly open fly of his jeans. The touch made him clench his abdominal muscles, break the kiss to look down at the slender gold of her hand against him, air hot on his skin as she inhaled and exhaled in the same jagged rhythm.

As if aware of how the visual affected him, she stroked up with a finger . . . back down. When she reached for the zipper tab, however, he braceleted her wrist with one hand and pulled her away. “After.” The idea of her fingers wrapped around his penis made his spine lock, his thighs taut.

Kissing her again, he ran his thumb over the pulse in her wrist before releasing her hand. Then he reached for the bottom of her sweater. She raised her arms, and the fine blue wool was on the floor seconds later. Her bra was a delicate creation of pale yellow lace. Fascinated by the way it cupped the creamy mounds of her breasts while appearing so fragile, he traced the scalloped edges, dipped his finger underneath just a fraction.

One of her hands rose to grip his wrist, but it wasn’t a hold that asked him to stop.

“From the township by the settlement?” he asked, and continued to touch.

Fingers tightening on his wrist, she nodded. “The humans didn’t see anything wrong with selling it to a Psy.” Her voice was husky on her next question. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.” He decided he’d buy her more. “It appears I have a distinct preference for visual stimulus.” Kissing her collarbone, he said, “I still intend to watch you touch your own body in front of me, but not today. Today I want to be the one doing the touching.”

Ivy shivered again, then pressed an unexpected, wet kiss to his chest before reaching back to unhook the bra. Cupping his hand over the ball of her shoulder, he turned her slowly. Her hands dropped as she granted his silent request. First, he swept her hair to one side to bare her nape, the exposed skin making him want to taste. So he did.

Ivy uttered a hot, sweet sound in response that wrapped around his erection and squeezed . . . and they ended up in the desert.

“Sorry,” he said, the two of them already back in the apartment.

Ivy leaned her back against his chest, and turning her head, rose on tiptoe. He bent toward her automatically, used to the height difference, was rewarded by her lips brushing the side of his jaw. “As long as you don’t stop touching me”—another kiss—“you can take me to the desert and back a thousand times.”

The kisses threatened to distract him, entice him to stay in this position, but he wanted her naked. Shifting back, he reached for the hooks on her bra and undid them after figuring out how they were linked. Ivy curved her shoulders inward as soon as he was done and slid off the straps one at a time, the movement wholly feminine.

He watched the lace drop to the carpet, realized he couldn’t look at her front if he wanted to finish this. “Stay.” Gripping her hips until he was sure she understood, he stepped away to look at the graceful curve of her back, but he couldn’t look and not touch. He ran one hand down the expanse of skin he intended to kiss inch by inch.

“I was overambitious,” he said when she arched toward him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to explore all of you before my control snaps.”

“We can do it again.” A shy, sensual glance back at him before she faced forward once more. “As many times as we like.”

Vasic’s fingers stilled on her skin as he realized the import of her words. Before Ivy, he’d never been given anything he wanted without fighting for it. Most times it had been a stolen moment of peace in a calm place. All with a time limit. This didn’t have one.

His eye fell on the gauntlet.

Forcing his mind away from that darkness and to the pleasure of this instant when he was with a woman who denied him nothing, he ran both hands down her sides and around to her front to flick open the button of her jeans. “Tug down the zipper,” he murmured against her ear, nibbling at the curve of it simply because he wanted to.

Ivy moaned, her body soft and warm in the curve of his as she did as he asked. Then, not waiting for his request, she pushed the jeans down her thighs and to the floor. Releasing her so she could tug off the material, he wrapped one arm around her waist again as soon as she finished the task, the fingers of his other hand exploring the tiny bows of yellow ribbon at the sides of her lace panties. There’d been one on her bra, too, he remembered, in the center.

Tugging at a bow, he was disappointed to discover it was only for show. “I’m going to buy you panties with ribbons that unlace.” He knew such things existed, had seen them in shop windows and on advertising images.

Ivy’s skin turned a silky hot shade that made him want to stroke, kiss, maybe even bite. “You can buy me anything you like,” she whispered, melting back into him. “I’ll wear it.”

Vasic kissed the side of her neck. “You should be careful what you say to a starving man.” Biting at her in playful warning when he hadn’t known until Ivy that he could play, he luxuriated in her moan.

Then, pulse pounding, he slipped his hand around to her navel and under the lace of her panties to cup her flesh. “I read a book,” he said when she jerked. “A sex manual. Actually, I read two, downloaded another three for later.” Arrows always did intensive research, and he’d followed up Judd’s information with further investigation of his own. “I also watched certain recordings.”

“When?” Ivy’s voice was high, shocked.

“While you were asleep.” He read extremely fast, a natural skill augmented by his Arrow training. “One of the manuals said that for women, sexual pleasure is as much in the mind as in the body. It suggested that the male talk during sex.” Vasic didn’t really talk except when he had something to say, but when Ivy whimpered, her body going even more damp against his palm, he decided this was a case where talking wasn’t only warranted, it’d be foolish not to do it. “I like holding you like this.”

Curving his fingers, he cupped her more firmly. “I like feeling you become wetter and hotter and impatient.”

Her hands reached back to grasp at his thighs, her breathing harsh.

“According to the manuals, a woman’s clitoris is extremely sensitive and can be caressed in a number of ways.” Tightening his arm when she rose on her toes as if to escape his touch before pressing back down, he kissed the side of her throat again. “Apparently, there’s also a place inside you that can give you incredible orgasms. I’m determined to find it.”

Breasts plump and flushed, Ivy reached up and back to clench her hand in his hair. “I didn’t know we were supposed to read manuals,” she complained, a little pout to her mouth that made him wish he was in front of her. But that would end this before it began, and there were so many things he wanted to do to and with Ivy.

He tilted the heel of his hand to put pressure on her clitoris. Back bowing, she shuddered. “I’m finding a manual, too,” she gasped when the wave passed, her eyes closed.

As a result, she missed the fact that they’d ended up in the desert again before he brought them back. “Wait until I can keep us in one place.” He was already balanced on a razor-thin wire. If Ivy became expert at how to arouse his body, he’d probably take them into the heart of a volcano. “Do you like this?” He used his finger to circle the sensitive entrance to her body.

Ivy’s back arched again, her skin shimmering. When she turned her head and looked up, he knew what she wanted, though she hadn’t said a word. Gripping her jaw with his gauntleted hand, he kissed her at the same time that he reinitiated the pressure against her clitoris with the heel of his other hand. Crying out into the kiss only seconds later, Ivy melted all over his palm, her hands gripping at his upper arms and her eyes fluttering shut.

He watched her body ripple with pleasure, pleasure he’d created in her, and felt the wire snap. Only his protectiveness toward her had him remembering to shunt his energy to the water. Removing his hand from her panties to her murmured complaint, he swept her up in his arms and placed her on the bed.

It took mere seconds to pull off his jeans and underwear, another two to tug off her panties. Crumpling the damp lace in his fist, he knelt between her legs, his eyes on the delicate folds barely hidden by the soft hair at the juncture of her thighs. His mouth watered. Not giving her any warning, he dropped her panties to the bed and dipped his head to lave his tongue over her honeyed flesh.

“Vasic!” Her back lifted off the bed.

Licking one more time, he promised himself he’d return, taste her properly. Right now, he wanted only one thing. He rose up over her body to brace himself on his gauntleted arm, using the fingers of his other hand to brush back her hair. “This will likely hurt.” He didn’t like the idea, but it was a biological fact they couldn’t escape.

Ivy wrapped her legs around his hips. “Love me, let me love you.”

He gritted his teeth, guided himself to her, and began to push. She was slick and hot and so tightly stretched around him that he felt he’d rip her open. “Ivy.”

Clutching at his shoulders, she gasped, “So . . . you’re built in proportion, then.”

The unexpected words gave him the breathing room he needed. Kissing her on that sweet, soft, generous mouth, he said, “Unfortunately.”

A sensually feminine smile. “I have a feeling that won’t be the correct description once we begin to do this on a regular basis.”

That was it. Vasic stopped thinking, his only focus on being inside her and on not hurting her. The twin desires pounding within his skull, he moved as slowly as his body would permit, his Arrow training having given him superb muscle control . . . that would’ve collapsed at the first pulse of her body on his if he hadn’t been worried about causing her pain.

Uttering a near-soundless cry, Ivy held on impossibly tighter but didn’t ask him to stop.

He did so anyway. “Ivy—”

Her answer was a kiss on his biceps.

His chest feeling as if he had huge metal bellows inside him, pumping out air in great gulps, he dug the hand of his gauntleted arm into the pillow and continued the tortuous forward momentum . . . and then he was buried to the hilt in Ivy.

Tiny nails dug into his flesh, her body tense. “Give me,” she breathed out, “a few seconds.”

Sweat dripped down Vasic’s temples, his jaw painful. Locking his every muscle in place, he tried to decide if this was self-inflicted torture or pleasure. Pleasure, he groaned internally when Ivy’s body rippled on his, very definitely pleasure.

Then the woman who held him with such unhidden possessiveness, stroked his cheek. “You can move,” she whispered. “I’m getting used to you.” She lifted up her hips experimentally against him.

Vasic growled and took her mouth as he pulled out and stroked back in on pure instinct. He knew in the back of his mind that he was supposed to draw this out, make her orgasm before he did, but rational thought was long gone. His body exploded on the second stroke, his spine arching and the desert shimmering around them, Ivy’s arms and legs holding him close in an embrace that said he was home.

Finally, he was home.

IVY had never felt so . . . She didn’t have words for it. A silly smile on her face, she rubbed her cheek against the hot silk of Vasic’s chest, luxuriating in the feel of him against the length of her, his hand in her hair in a way that had become familiar.

“This room is full of steam.”

Ivy had noticed that, tiny beads of water condensing on her skin. But she was far more interested in other matters. Pressing a kiss to his pectoral, she wiggled up his body to look down at him. “So?”

Vasic ran his hand down her spine, back up. His face remained expressionless, but Ivy could feel his emotions with the senses she couldn’t turn off, and they made her want to cuddle close and purr like she was a cat being stroked.

“I need to practice.”

She giggled at his response, her heart about to burst with the intimacy of what had passed between them. The sex had been hot and beautiful and a little messy, and she couldn’t wait to do it again. His touch, the feel of him so hard and strong inside her, the heavy weight of him in her arms as he tried to catch his breath, she’d loved it all. “Repetition, huh?” she teased. “Could get dull.”

Silver frost eyes held hers. “Do you think you’re in danger of getting bored?”

Ivy pretended to think about it. “Hmm—” She shrieked as they suddenly found themselves in an icy environment, only to blink back into the bedroom the next split second. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“I lost control.”

“Liar.” She poked a finger at his side, delighted with him.

“No comment.”

He closed his eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair, his pleasure in the simple touch bone deep. “You going to tell me why those men came for you?” she asked, because much as she wanted to ignore the world and spend the next week naked in bed with him, the world kept shoving itself back into their life.

“They were Ming’s men,” he told her without opening his eyes. “No emblems on their uniforms, but I recognized them.” Lifting his hand, he opened it to show her the pressure injector he must’ve ’ported in. “It’ll need to be tested to be certain, but I recognize the cobalt blue shade of the cartridge. It’s Jax; a very high dosage.”

Fury was an inferno in Ivy’s blood. “Bastard,” she said, as Vasic returned the injector to wherever it was stored. “Why is he still alive?” She might hate violence, but she also understood evil on a visceral level, knew that some people found pleasure only in holding cruel power over others.

Vasic’s answer made too much sense. “He might be a monster, but that monster is holding Europe together right now.”

“What if he comes after you again?” she said, laying her head against his shoulder and nuzzling close so she could draw in the scent of him. “He sent three highly skilled Tks after you—that’s serious.”

Vasic squeezed her nape. “And all three Tks are now in Arrow custody. Ming knows how to do a cost-benefit analysis, and I’ve just tipped the scale to the wrong side by depriving him of three senior men.”

Ivy nodded, made herself believe. This was Vasic’s world, and he understood it far better than she did. “I hate that another man’s lust for power forced you into violence tonight.”

Shifting her onto her back, Vasic caressed his hand down her side. “Before you, I would’ve handled the situation by withdrawing further into the numb state where nothing really impacted me.” A lazy, possessive kiss. “I like working out the tension with a naked Ivy much, much better.”

Her lips curved. She believed him; she was the one who was tense with anger right now. Vasic, by contrast, was lazily relaxed. “I so need a manual.” Her lover—her lover—was proving to be lethal in a most delicious way. A woman had to have some weapons of her own.

That got her a kiss, his hand petting her breast. She would’ve melted right into him if she hadn’t felt his gauntlet graze her shoulder. “Wait.” Pushing at the muscled width of his own shoulders, she said, “What time is it? We have to go see Samuel Rain.”