The Immortal Who Loved Me(Argeneau, book 21)(54) by Lynsay Sands
Her eyes widened incredulously. “But what if you did that and we split up?”
“I am willing to take that chance to keep you safe. I would rather have you alive and immortal and not with me, than dead and never mine,” he said grimly.
Sherry stared at him for a moment, amazement overwhelming her. She didn’t know what to make of his offer. What did it mean? She needed to think. “Can you please just give me a little more time?”
Basil closed his eyes and then confessed, “I am afraid of losing you. I have waited for you for what feels like eons, and I am terrified that Leo will snatch you away from me and either kill you or turn you himself, which could also kill you or make you insane.” Eyes opening, he said, “I am afraid that if I don’t turn you, you could be lost to me forever.”
Sherry met his gaze squarely as she said, “I’m sorry for that. But when I make the decision, I don’t want it to be for the wrong reasons. I want it to be based on our feelings for each other, not because we’re afraid of what Leonius Livius might do.” She hesitated and then said, “Please tell me you understand.”
Basil was silent for a minute, and then, rather than answer, he slid one hand around her neck, pulled her face forward and then kissed her. It was a deep, hungry kiss, and felt very like the ravishing he’d mentioned earlier.
Sherry was so relieved that he wasn’t stomping out of the room in a snit, she immediately responded, her upper body molding itself to his as her hands glided up his chest, around his neck on either side and into his soft, short hair. When he tightened his arms around her and stood up, taking her with him, she went willingly. Her legs slid out from under the covers and fell against his, then took her weight when he set her down.
Basil reached for the hem of her nightie then, and Sherry raised her arms so he could tug it off over her head. Once it was a crumpled heap on the floor, though, she reached for the tie of his robe. She’d barely started to tug on it when he caught both her wrists in one hand and held them firmly as he removed the undone tie himself. She didn’t resist when he quickly bound her hands with one end of it, but simply watched with curiosity.
He kissed her again then, his tongue thrusting almost violently into her mouth, and then pushed her backward. Sherry fell across the bed with a surprised gasp, and then glanced up as he knelt one knee on the top of the bed by her head and laced the other end of the robe tie through the wooden slats of the headboard. She glanced to his face worriedly when he finished, half afraid he intended to turn her anyway, without her permission. But he merely stood up and began to undo his pajama top, his eyes feasting on her as he did.
Once finished with the buttons, the top hit the ground next to her nightie. Sherry bit her lip as her gaze skated over his chest. Then her eyes dropped to watch him hook his thumbs beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms as he shoved them down.
Basil stepped out of them and then crawled onto the bed and up her body to kiss her again. He then leaned up on one hand, hooked his other arm under her back and lifted her upper body until he could close his mouth over her breast.
Sherry moaned as he suckled and laved at first one breast and then the other, and then she gasped in startled surprise when he nipped at the sensitive tip of one before releasing it and easing her back to the bed. His eyes were glowing silver and turbulent as he straightened and let his gaze slide over her, and she knew he was as affected by what he was doing as she was. He was feeling her pleasure, it was bouncing between them, expanding with each pass, and she thought he was struggling with it, trying to prolong their pleasure. Or perhaps he was trying to torment her for refusing his offer and agreeing to the turn. If so, he was torturing himself as well.
Distracted as she was with her thoughts, Sherry was caught by surprise when he suddenly leaned forward to brush his hand lightly against the core of her before thrusting a finger inside her with a vigor that startled a yelp from her. That yelp was followed by a moan as his thumb found her sensitive nub and began to run lightly back and forth over it, and then around it in circles.
Panting, she pushed her feet into the bed and lifted herself into his touch, watching the struggle taking place on his face through almost closed eyes. She had to marvel at his self-restraint. If her hands weren’t tied, she would be trying desperately to push him down on his back so she could climb on top of him, take him into her body and end this torment.
“Oh God,” Sherry cried when he eased his finger out and thrust back in again, hard, this time using two fingers and stretching her. She tugged at her bindings, her body arching, hips pressing down into the thrust, seeking the release she was so close to finding. And then Basil stopped caressing her and removed his hand from between her legs.
“No, no, no, please,” she moaned, and then sagged with relief when Basil shifted to kneel between her legs. There was sweat on his forehead that told her how much that little bit of foreplay had cost him, how hard he’d had to fight their growing passion to try to draw this out. But she didn’t care. At that point all she wanted was to feel him thrusting into her, so she was relieved when he grabbed her by the hips, lifted her off the bed so that she was strung from the headboard like a hammock, and plowed into her with the vigor they both needed.
“God, yes,” Sherry cried, and wrapped one leg around his hips. She kept her other foot planted on the bed for leverage and used both to thrust back, meeting each thrust with her own eager passion. And then Basil released her hips, leaving her to ride him as she would while he leaned forward to fondle her breasts.
Sherry bucked against him on a cry of excitement as he pinched her nipples, then bucked again when he shifted one hand down between them to run his thumb roughly over her excited nub. As sensitive as she was, her pleasure was almost painful under the bold touch, and she went wild, thrusting and bucking and screaming obscenities as she rode his erection to her own pleasure . . . and his.
Sherry woke up first this time. Her memory of what happened didn’t come to her immediately. It wasn’t until she tried to sit up and her bound wrists and Basil’s body prevented it that she recalled. Blushing all the way down to her toes then, she closed her eyes briefly.
Jeez, who knew she had such a potty mouth? she thought as she recalled the things she’d been yelling at the end. Biting the inside of her lip, she glanced down at Basil’s head and tried to imagine what he must think of her now . . . and what was going to happen when he woke up. She’d have to ask him to untie her, she realized, and closed her eyes as she imagined suffering through his knowing looks as he did it, and—
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