Nocturnal Urges (Nocturnal Urges, Book One) Read Free Page B

nerves and heat that made her heart pound and her hips rotate desperately against Duane. It was as though she felt some deep-seated itch that she could not scratch; something that only hot desire could fill.
    Isabel felt Ryan’s tongue, surprisingly warm and delicate, licking a long line along her shoulder, up to the place where her shoulder curved into her neck. Shivers ran down her spine and she cried out wordless sounds of pleasure.
    Duane’s hands were on her hips, lifting her up, and he thrust into her, hard and strong. She settled down on him, rocking back and forth. She felt the press of two hard, sharp points at her throat, and forgot to be afraid.
    Ryan’s teeth sank in, and a bright sharp pain darted across her neck, bringing a momentary lull to the pleasure. Then his mouth closed over the wound and the pain instantly vanished. The warm, moist pressure of his mouth tugged sensually at her skin, and she had the feeling of something being drawn out of her, some great velvet thread that began coiled between her legs and drew up through her stomach and chest, around her breasts and up to the place where Ryan sucked at her throat, drawing through her a velvet friction within her skin.
    The roil and shudder began in her lower belly, growing and thundering through her until it filled her limbs and skin and seemed to explode from her mouth as she cried out into the air, a shattered explosion that cycled again and again, clenching and releasing as Duane exploded within her, brought by the violent eruptions within her body.
    Isabel cried out again as the glorious fever ebbed. She felt Duane collapse against her chest, his head moist with sweat and his mouth open with his own breathless exhalations.
    Lightly, Ryan’s tongue licked the wound on her neck, catching some small drop that lingered on her skin. That one touch set off a cascade of shudders throughout her body, down beneath her skin to the place where Duane had withdrawn from her, now spent. Duane was in some other place, his eyes closed.
    A swirl of warm velvet around her, and Isabel looked up to see Ryan, gently placing a wrap around her bare shoulders. Wordlessly he faded back into the shadows, and though she watched carefully, she could not see him leave. Elyse also faded into shadows, and Isabel knew when they were alone.
    Carefully she extracted herself from the bench, but her legs were wobbly and unsteady. She made her way to the bed, pulling the velvet wrap around her. Duane had sunk down onto the floor, resting against the bench in his exhaustion.
    Her limbs were heavy, suffused with warmth. She wanted only to curl up and sleep. But more than that, she wished Ryan were holding her, that the room was theirs for the night and she could…
    What?
    Duane. She wished that Duane were holding her, not Ryan. Isabel blinked, and shook her head. I must be more tired than I thought.
    She lay down on the bed, curling into the velvet wrap. She watched Duane stir a little, sitting up next to the bench.
    “Damn, baby,” he said softly. “I’m never going to be able to walk out of here.”
    She smiled a little.
    Duane stood up. “You okay?” he asked, pulling on his pants.
    “Yeah,” Isabel said, still curled up in the velvet wrap.
    “Shake a leg then,” Duane said. “We don’t get to stay long.”
    Isabel gave up. She stood up, and reached for her clothes. Duane had never figured out that she liked to be held afterward. When it was over, it was over, according to him. To be fair, she’d never made a big deal out of it. She didn’t want to be one of those whiny you-don’t-bring-me-flowers-anymore women.
    Sometimes, though, you just want your guy to pick up on what you want without spelling it out for him.
    Isabel zipped up her skirt, wishing there was a bathroom somewhere so she could freshen up a bit. Somewhere, the pounding music came to a sudden stop, replaced with thundering footsteps and raised voices. Until the music stopped, Isabel hadn’t been quite