Dahlia: A Novel of Dark Desire

Chapter Twelve

Traedon made an excellent cut of venison. A little rare for her taste but she noticed his was even rarer. People were shaped by their abilities as much as they shaped and sharpened those abilities. Maybe his tigers influenced his tastes. His dishes did seem to lean towards meat-heavy. She wondered if the greens were a regular presence or a concession to her being a guest.

She watched his body move, his loose linen shirt showing hints of the toned back and arms beneath as he cleared the table. The tip of her index finger circled the edge of her cup as she debated pouring another drink.

She eyed the red-headed lieutenant appreciatively as he walked back to the table. Sliding up from her chair she moved between him and the table and slipped a hand around his waist, leaning in to run her lips softly up his neck. He caught her and pulled her hips in hard against him. Her breath quickened in anticipation and he leaned down to meet her mouth.

Feeling him hard against her, Dahlia buried her hand in his long hair and nipped at his lip, catching it in her teeth and playfully pulling. Traedon let out a pleased growl, cupped her butt in his hands and lifted her onto the table so she straddled his hips. She knocked over one of the cups on the table and pulled her hips back towards him. The strain of the past week drowned in alcohol and the taste of his mouth.

He pulled her shirt off and dropped his mouth to her nipple, gently circling it with his tongue. She arched into him, already looking for more. He nipped gently at the bud, sending shivers down in between her legs.

She pulled his shirt off to run her hands over his rock hard chest, admiring the tattoos that swept over his lithe muscles. He looked delicious in the soft light. Hell, he'd looked good in the afternoon sun on the training ground. She'd wanted him then, too. She loved watching him fight, even if it meant besting her own men. His raw talent and practiced finesse were exhilarating to watch. Dahlia gripped his waist and ground against him, making soft sounds of desire.

Traedon pushed a hand into the waist of her pants and slid his fingers into her to give her a taste of what she wanted. She pressed her mouth back to his, running her tongue against his. She felt herself growing wet as he stroked her. It felt devine but she already wanted more from him.

Dahlia rocked back, hooking her leg over his hip and pulling him towards her. He followed obediently, removing his hand to climb onto the table over her. A second cup fell to the floor. He grabbed the bottle they'd left half empty and put it out of harm's way. He pulled off her pants so she was lying naked under him, then he shifted and pulled off his own so he could drive into her. She gasped at the first press of his body, the sensation burning through her, making her ache with passion. She pushed her hips against his hard thrusts as the table rocked dangerously. Waves of pleasure rolled over her body as he moved deep inside her. Her mind cleared, lost in the sensations. There was nothing but them and the heat building in her.

She pressed harder against him, wanting to feel him completely fill her, intensify the pleasure. He responded by grabbing her hip again with one hand and pulling her closer to him as he increased the pace. She slid one leg over his shoulder and moaned again; that was exactly what she'd wanted. As she tightened, she felt every inch of him as he sunk into her.

Her release built as they made love until she was on fire. She pushed against him hard and arched her back as she climaxed. The intoxicating rush made her head spin pleasantly. Feeling her release, Traedon let go and pressed himself into her as he came as well.

He pressed his lips to her neck, her collarbone, her breast. As they finished he pulled her up, onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. Dahlia stayed there, happy for the moment.

A knock sounded on his door.

A chuckle rumbled in Traedon's chest, "At least we got to finish this time."

"And it was a knock rather than an entrance."

"One second," he called out.

Dahlia slid down from his lap then replaced and tied her dress as Traedon donned his pants and opened the door. Nel stood outside looking a little less sheepish this time. She had to hand it to him, his composure didn't slip as he addressed Traedon.

"I'm looking for Captain DeMorra."

Dahlia stepped forward, "Yes, Nel?"

"Captain Mazaran has requested your presence."

Dahlia looked at Traedon, "Well this can't be good."