Midnight Medusa by Stephanie Draven Read Free Book Online Page A

enough, but he kept holding her, kept pulling from her the fear, the tensions, and more. He lay gasping on top of her, as if he were now the one in terrible pain.
    He had taken the poison in her and pulled it into himself. He had saved her. She knew it as sure as she knew her own name. He had saved her, and he was the only one who could.
    Beneath him, she felt her body tighten again, but this time with arousal. She wasn’t afraid anymore, not of anything. Not of her wants, not of her needs, not of the raw desires that ached in her belly and breasts. Like she had in the bath, Renata wrapped her arms around his neck, but this time without restraint. Writhing beneath him, she kissed his neck, his chin, his mouth.
    “Renata—” he began, but she cut him off.
    “I want you,” she said, and started to unbutton his ruined shirt. “I want you to see me. I’m not afraid.”
    His expression was pained. “That’s because I consumed your fears. I went too far.”
    Undeterred, she pulled his shirt over his shoulders, and now that she saw the carved lines of his muscled chest, she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers over them. “Even so, I want you,” she said again, reaching for his belt with a wanton freedom she’d never felt before.
    He growled low in his throat, as if it was taking his every effort to resist her. She felt the hardness between his legs, but still he held back. “Not tonight,” he said. “I took your inhibitions from you—this isn’t right.”
    “Inhibitions only stop me from doing what I want to do,” Renata said. She was wet, she was wanting, and she could not help but grind her hips. “You gave me terror—you can give me this.”
    It was too much for him. Using one arm to lift her up, he used the other to untie her robe. They undressed in haste, clothes kicked off and left crumpled wherever they fell. His mouth came down on her nipples and they hardened in reply. His thighs pushed between hers, splaying her beneath him. Then he was pushing inside her, filling her, and she arched up to meet him stroke for stroke.
    Her nails dug into the sculpted muscles of his arms as his hips battered her own. Renata had never made love like this before. Never let herself moan aloud, never let herself guide a man’s hands to touch her in just the way she wanted to be touched—not that Damon needed guidance. His hands were everywhere, until finally she was shaking at the precipice and with an artful thrust of his pelvis, he pushed her over the edge.
    This time, when Renata screamed, it was with pleasure, and the music of it was a delight to her own ears. Damon wasn’t far behind her. He let out an animal sound as he flooded her. Then together, they lay tangled and entwined.
     
    Afterwards, Renata let him roll her onto her stomach and plant rows of kisses upon her back. She wasn’t afraid. He’d been right. He could make her so unafraid, she’d strip down and swim naked in the sea. He could make her fearless, and it was the greatest gift anyone had ever given her.
    As he kissed each tiny scar on her back with reverence, she sighed with contentment. At long last, she turned and rolled into his arms, caressing his face, his chest, and memorizing each line.
    Perhaps it was her sculptress’s touch that brought regret to his handsome face. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
    “Why not?” Renata asked, quite certain that this was one of the best things she’d ever done.
    “I frightened you,” he said. “I went too far, always too far.”
    He looked tortured, so Renata tried to comfort him with a kiss at the corners of his clean-shaven upper lip, and inhaled the soapy scent of his skin. “Those screams had been inside me for a long time. Perhaps they needed to come out.”
    “Even so, I threatened to break your fingers.” He took her hand from where it cupped the curve of his cheek and kissed each fingertip in turn. “It was unforgivable.”
    “I know you wouldn’t really hurt me,” she