19 Ivy Lane
Episode 5 by J.A. Coffey
“Lise.” He growled warningly as she ground herself against him. Their attraction was darkly forbidden, and almost as old as their origins. “Wait.”
As usual, she wouldn’t.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. His senses told him she was almost past reason. She was already spilling out of the deep neckline of her long, blue dress. A dress that should’ve matched her indigo eyes, if not for the deep hunger tainting them to ink. She nipped at his bottom lip, pressing her glorious half-bared breasts against his chest and hiking her skirt higher. His visceral reaction to the sweet, feminine scent of her arousal, and the silk of her skin beneath his fingertips was intense. He felt himself harden, his cock straining behind his black pants, aching to bury himself within her.
“I knew you would come for me, E.” Eloise’s dark eyes stayed on him as she slipped her clever fingers beneath his waistband and tugged his stiff white cotton shirt free. One by one, her hands moved to undo his buttons until his shirt hung open. And still her haunted, hungry eyes never left his.
This was no cast spell. No false glamour binding him to her.
It was her.
He pulled her roughly against his body. Cradling her face firmly between his hands, he slid his tongue over her reddened lips, gentle at first then insistently, demanding entry. A sigh escaped her and he sealed his mouth over hers, taking her sounds of desire inside him. Their tongues touched and mated, wrestling for dominance. The taste of her made him see stars. His mind reeled and his body reacted to the soft-mounded sensation of her body molded against his. She was everything he ever wanted in a woman and more.
If only she was just a woman.
Her tongue tangled with his as his hands pulled her head back, allowing him deeper access. He tasted her, leisurely, sucking and pulling, relearning the best ways to draw another sigh or a sharp inhalation of surprised pleasure from her. It had been so long, and there was so much between them. Never, he thought, never had he so thoroughly enjoyed kissing a woman as he did her. It was as if they were connected, each of them with a driving need, each of them satisfying the hunger in the other. The intensity of it scared him, if he let himself think about it. So, he did what any man would do.
He didn’t stop to think.
He closed himself off to everything but fulfilling her insatiable need. His fingers went to unclasp his belt, shaking with the urge to take her. She moaned in frustrated yearning, and her hips bucked against him, causing him to fumble the thin silver buckle. His belt clattered to the kitchen tiles.
There was a startled exclamation from the floor. “Miss… Sinclair?” The man’s glazed eyes went sharply into focus.
The mail carrier. He’d forgotten.