Embrace My Heart(52)

Temper flared in his deep stare. “You had nothing to do with the way that turned out.”

She smiled. “I had quite a bit to do with it, though. It takes two to make a relationship.”

“Stop.”

“No, Sim, I need you to understand that I played a part.”

Instead of telling her to shut up, Qasim merely lifted her high. His hands provided a firm cradle for her bottom, and he punished her with a branding kiss.

At least, Vectra thought, it was a punishing kiss for even daring to take any part of the blame for the abuse she suffered. He was right. Hell, yes, he was right. She knew that, but it didn’t diminish the fact that she was terrified of repeating mistakes that had led to some pretty nasty situations.

The branding kiss was hot, wet and deep. Vectra met it with her own manner of claiming, using the act to tell Qasim that she wanted all he had to give.

If only the little reminder warning would cease its shrill chiming inside her head. She didn’t want to talk or do anything that didn’t involve the two of them exclusively, but she’d put this off long enough.

“Um—” she tensed, working up just a hint of resistance “—we need to talk.” Her voice wouldn’t shed its moaning intensity.

“Not interested,” he growled. With that, he carried her deeper into the house, taking the previous path he’d charted to her bedroom.

“Coffee...” she weakly offered, feeling his laughter vibrate from his chest through hers. In that moment, she couldn’t resist laughing at herself. After all, she certainly hadn’t dressed for serious conversation, had she?

“Not interested in coffee, either,” he said.

Fevered kisses resumed, stopping only when Qasim broke stride to trap Vectra along one side of the stairway banisters. There, he released his hold on her bottom and moved it once again to the hem of her tee. He quickly jerked the garment over her head and left it on the stairs.

Qasim lost himself in the fullness of her breasts, which had been bare beneath the cotton top. Cupping both caramel globes, he eased his tongue between them and then circled his nose about her nipples until they marbled and strained for his attention.

Vectra squeezed his shoulders and attempted to steady herself against the banister. She slid her hands up, raking the silky whiskers shading his face. Upwards she traveled, until her fingers curled into the hair sleekly capping his head. She tried to direct him to take her into his mouth. Useless. He seemed content with tormenting her into oblivion with the scintillating glides his tongue made about her areola.

Qasim carried out the act while pulling Vectra from the banister to continue their ascent to the third level.

Vectra could sense the change in lighting behind her closed lids as they ventured to the upper, dimmer floors. She reveled in Qasim’s strength and sense of direction. His abilities allowed her to focus only on what he was doing to her body. She heard a door slam, and her eyes opened with a flutter of lashes to discover they were passing through the outer room of her bedroom suite.

Moments later, Vectra felt the semifirm cushioning of the mattress beneath her back. He took possession of one of her nipples, and her body became a sensual arc.

Qasim finally obliged her. Sucking as though he were famished, he manipulated one nipple with his tongue and teeth while he exquisitely tortured the other beneath his thumb.

Vectra cursed the snug sleep pants still hugging her lower half. Her hips commenced a wicked sway beneath his. She gasped, wrecked by the triple sensations stemming from his mouth, fingers and the deliciously ridged arousal pressed against her.

Qasim muttered something incomprehensible. Her nudges against his erection were driving him out of his mind. Well...more out of his mind than he’d already been driven by her, eager and beautiful beneath him.

Blindly, he groped for the barrier still separating her from his touch. The pants she wore proved no match for the insistence of his fingers once they’d curled into the material and wrenched it free of her body.

“Dammit, Sim!” she gasped when the material ripped. “They were my favorite.”

“I’ll make it up,” he soothed.

It was no use. She was newly dismayed when her achy, glistening nipples were suddenly abandoned. Vectra lashed out to skim his shoulder with a fist, but she only hit air. Opening her eyes, she saw that he’d sat up to remove his shirt.

Vectra was quite pleased by the opportunity to watch the material slowly peel away to reveal the muscle-packed licorice plane of his chest. Her nipples ached with renewed awareness, yearning to feel the sleek wall against her.

Qasim’s intentions ran along a different course, however. Once he’d discarded the shirt, he spread her thighs to accommodate his wide frame. Vectra’s heart jumped into her throat, beating in sync with the slow thrum of her need. Eagerly, she anticipated his next move.