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"Oh, definitely," she said, a laugh in her voice. "There are laws, you know." But none she wouldn't mind him breaking if only to feel like this all the time: flushed, giddy, and alive with anticipation. And all because of a simple kiss to her hand, a gesture she'd received hundreds of times before. All because of him.
"It's getting dark," she said suddenly, the song of a night bird bringing the time to her attention. Not that she was indicating they should leave. If anything, she intended to linger as long as possible.
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The cave wasn't very large to begin with, and with the hunter's larger frame all but trapping her, it seemed even smaller. But she hardly minded. On the contrary, having him so close, touching her like that...her breath skittered out of her as she shivered, feeling flushed and restless. That desire again, and it made her bolder than she'd ever dared.
"Reward, you say?" she repeated with a coy dip of her lashes. "I dare say you certainly deserve one after that display of skill. So, Garrett," she said softly now as she met his gaze. "I give you my favor. And a kiss, if you would claim it."
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It was an oddity to be sure that, given her age, given the fact that she had been married for more than six years, and not to mention the parade of suitors that had pursued her since her husband's death, this was Scheherazade's first kiss. Twenty-five and this was the first time and man's lips had touched her own - and she was glad.
As if she could have been satisfied with anyone but Hunter's lips against her own, so firm but surprisingly soft, and undoubtedly skilled. The light nibbles sent little flares of heat through her body, making her shift unconsciously closer, the rasp of dark stubble against her skin thrilling. Hunter's wasn't the only passion that was rising - so to speak. Unskilled, but rapidly losing her initial uncertainty, Scheherazade pressed her mouth more firmly to Hunter's, her hands coming to rest on his chest, fingers kneading restlessly.
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Hunter's tongue was swift, slipping past Scheherazade's parted lips into the warm cavern of her mouth. He let her taste him first, encouraging those darts of tongue as best he could. And then he returned the favor.
His tongue flicked against hers, once, twice, a little tease, before curling around hers. He tilted his head, slanting his mouth across hers and deepening the kiss further still. The scent of her had him as giddy as one could apply the word to such a man, and he was losing the battle with himself to keep from taking more.
His hand slipped downward, and back, settling at the very base of her spine, gently kneading flesh and her own hand had started unconsciously doing at his shoulders.
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Scheherazade's scent, her body, everything about her asked for, demanded more, and Hunter was entirely willing to give it to her. He threw caution to the wind - the queen would stop him if and when she desired, and he would give in to her whims - and pressed harder against her, one leg slipping between hers.
His hand slipped further, leaving bare skin to smooth over silky cloth-covered rear. A low sound, something akin to a growl rumbled in his throat, and he paused in kissing her long enough for them both to take a breath before diving in again. This time he only kissed her for a moment before trailing down to her neck. There he sucked and nibbled, finding a sweet spot under her jaw, all the while inhaling that intoxicating scent he attributed only to her.
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That teasing innocent scent was temporarily forgotten at that. Hunter couldn't help his response. He growled again, against her throat before taking in between teeth and biting, a catch of teeth just shy of hard. His moved against her, feeling, smelling the building waves, and only wanting to encourage it. He pressed hard between her legs, holding her against him, hips against hips, moving fast as she moved, waiting until the moment he felt it break over her, when he'd lift his head and watch her.
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Hunter didn't want to pull away, to break contact, but he wanted to see her when she came. He could smell the heady rush of female scent and pheromones, could feel her shaking against him, but he had to see the rapturous expression on her face. It almost, almost distracted him from that odd little hiccup in her scent, a sharp tang that smelled remarkably like fear. It confused him for the briefest of moments, as much as that innocent-smelling vanilla had.
But it was left alone for the moment at the sound of his name on her lips, echoing around them, to be bounced around and multiplied by wet stone walls. He stroked her skin through her release, sky-blue eyes watched her as she struggled to catch her breath and slow her racing heart.
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Hunter would has grinned in an entirely wolfish way at the comment, taking it for bold compliment had he not caught that scent again. That almost misplaced scent of vanilla, of pale white innocence. he was suddenly well aware of what that scent was, but it made no sense at all for it to be coming off Scheherazade. Did it?
Hunter's brows met again. "I know of no stronger or more primal a magic than the touch of man's hands on woman's body," he responded, lifting her chin to press a kiss to her lips. His eye searched hers for a moment, lingering in dark brown pools before asking, "Is this a magic you're unfamiliar with?"
She had been married. It made little sense. Hunter did recall she said she hadn't let the king touch her, but that was years ago. It couldn't bet, and yet Hunter was almost positive. Previously married or not, Scheherazade was a virgin.
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Her mouth opened to confirm his thought, to tell him that, yes, in all the time since her husband's death she had not once sought a man to warm her bed. But he cut her words short, the kiss halting them in her throat, and then that scandalous statement stole them away completely. She sought his mouth instinctively, her kiss nowhere near awkward as the first time and she had him to thank for teaching her so well.
Finally breaking the kiss to draw much-needed breath, she smiled against his cheek. "You will have me, Garrett, never doubt that." She leaned back slightly so she could look up at him, fingers lightly tracing his jaw, dark eyes taking on a familiar gleam. "But not tonight."
And night it was, the jungle beyond the waterfall grown dark. Scheherazade would be missed at the palace soon.
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Her smile was genuine and bright in the evening darkness, growing slowly like the night-blooming jasmine. "Were any other man to gift me with such pretty words, I would think him a liar," she began with a hint of humor. "But coming from you...You make my heart ache, Garrett, in a way that is too sweet for words." At least at the moment. She knew there were words there; she just needed the time to find them. For the moment, a kiss would suffice, and she did so, pressing her lips to his for a lingering moment, before pulling away and taking his hand. "Home, then. Before they decide you've stolen me away."
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