Moon - New Moon Part 16

Before she could drag in a breath and let it out, he lowered his head so that his lips skimmed hers, brus.h.i.+ng back and forth, and she felt a thrill along her nerve endings. Like in the dream.

She didn't want it to be true. She wanted to remain aloof from him. She thought of standing very still and simply letting him kiss her as though she were a statue. If she didn't respond, he would get the message.

They were both naked, and she felt a dart of fear when his p.e.n.i.s stirred against her middle.

"I won't hurt you," he murmured. "I only want to find out if the dream was my imagination."

Suddenly she knew she'd trapped herself. If she'd told him the truth, perhaps he would turn her loose now. Or would confession only have made it worse?

He rubbed his mouth against hers again, creating a kind of heated friction. When she made a small sound, he pressed more firmly, moving his lips against hers as though he were speaking to her in a language only the two of them could understand. When she accepted that much from him, he took the intimacy to another level, his tongue playing along the line where she had her mouth sealed closed.

She had never realized there were so many subtle nuances to a kiss. And maybe she wasn't as opposed as she thought because she allowed the tip of his tongue to work its way to the inside edge of her lips, teasing and persuading.

He was gentle yet convincing. When he lightly stroked the sensitive inner surface of her mouth, then slowly swept his tongue along the line of her teeth, it felt good, which was as alarming as his naked body pressed to hers. Something about this man drew her. Some inner voice urged her to let down her guard with him. Only him.

Yet the thought of being at the mercy of any man tightened her chest.

She made a small sound, and he took advantage of that opening, deepening the contact, finding her tongue with his, delicately stroking the side.

He seemed to have turned kissing into an art form that a man and woman could appreciate together.

His tongue withdrew, and he used only his lips again, sipping from her as though her mouth tasted better to him than fine wine.

She was dizzy, swaying against him, his crisp chest hair making her b.r.e.a.s.t.s tingle. He stroked his hands up and down her arms, then slid lower, tracing the indentation of her waist and the curve of her hip, his fingers trailing heat over her skin.

It felt right. And good beyond belief. Yet there was no way she could relax in this situation. And the spreading warmth in her body changed to panic when she felt the hard shaft of his erection rising between them.

He was aroused. And his touch grew more urgent as he reached to stroke the sides of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then slid his hands inward toward her nipples.

"Don't."

He didn't seem to hear her, and that fueled her fear, so that she pushed sharply against his chest.

As soon as he felt that pressure, be dropped his hands to his sides and lifted his mouth away from hers.

Though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was looking down at her. When he spoke, she heard confusion and disappointment in his voice. "You wanted me to kiss you. You were enjoying it."

This time she found she couldn't lie to him. "Yes."

"It stopped feeling good?"

"I...".

She wanted to tell him she was frightened-of him and of herself. But admitting so much would put her at his mercy. And she knew what it was like to be at the mercy of a man.

When she didn't speak, he went on in a gritty voice. "I wasn't planning to take advantage of you."

Words rose to her lips. Words she wanted him to understand, yet at the same time, she couldn't speak.

Unable to tell him what she was feeling, she turned the subject away from what they had been doing and to the danger around them.

"We have to leave before more soldiers come. We should climb the rock wall and see what's on the other side. If you can get down as a wolf, then we should change," she said.

To her relief, he agreed. "You're right, I guess I stopped thinking clearly."

She had done that, too. But she didn't admit it.

As they moved toward the light, he cleared his throat. "How did you do that trick with the cave entrance?"

"You saw the image?"

"Yes. How did you do it?"

"In school we had cla.s.ses where we learned to project scenes," she answered. "Sometimes I can do it."

He tipped his head to one side, studying her. "What kind of school was that?"

"For children with psychic talents," she answered in a clipped voice.

"Magic school, like in Harry Potter?"

"There was no one in my school named Harrypotter."

He laughed. "He's a character in a book."

"Oh." She dragged in a breath and let it out. "Some people call it magic. I call it talent."

"Okay."

As they approached the entrance to the cave, he held her back, then stepped in front of her, inspecting the area around the hiding place before stepping out.

Once they were in the open, he moved to his right. She followed and saw that there was a rough trail through the rocks.

"We should change," he said.

"We won't be able to talk."

"Unfortunately. So tell me where we're going."

"I'll know better when I figure out where we are. You stay here and wait for me."

"I'll stay with you."

Perhaps he could. And perhaps he couldn't. She'd find out in a few minutes.

When he said, "I'll change first, then guard you," she nodded.

She might have said she didn't need guarding, but she knew that was false bravado.