Read Online Creations 1: The Perfect Creation by Marie Harte - Free Book Online Page A

that the heat in his gaze wasn’t so much from anger as from arousal. Following his stare, she saw the clinging fabric of her thin blouse clinging to her breasts and stomach. The light colour of the shirt, unfortunately, turned transparent when wet, showcasing her stiffening nipples just visible under the ends of her hair.
    “Come out of there.” His flat voice gave nothing away, so it surprised her when he leaned forwards and yanked her the rest of the way out of the river. He plastered her to him and kissed the breath out of her before she could blink.
    As before, the moment their lips touched, all thought left her. Sensation swamped the corridors of her body, washing her with a need so great she wanted to do whatever he asked to realise satisfaction.
    “Baby, you are so fucking sexy,” he moaned, sucking on her lower lip. His hands drew up her ribs to rest under her full breasts. “These I have to see. Now.” His voice brooked no refusal, and the sheer command in his voice forced her to obey.
    With trembling fingers she parted her blouse, taken with his thickening breaths.
    “That’s it. Take off that wet shirt. You can’t stay in your clothes. Don’t want to catch an illness, do you?” he asked smoothly, running hot hands over her chest. “Mother of Night, your nipples are loving my hands, aren’t they, Erin?” Erin didn’t want to talk, she wanted him to touch her. She wanted his mouth over her breasts, the way he’d done before. She wanted him to fill that aching void between her legs, to put himself inside her the way the couple had in that bar…

    “Answer me,” he ordered, staring into her face as he helped her remove her blouse.
    She blinked hazily up at him, completely his. “Yes, they love your touch,” she whispered, not understanding when he frowned.
    “You’re pulling me in with that godly scent, aren’t you?”
    “No,” she answered, lowering her gaze as she’d been taught. She surprised herself with the truth. Though her instinctive response to threat was to lure in her prey, this time with Cheltam felt different. “But you are.”
    “I am?” he sounded uneasy, but his touch grew warmer as he fondled her. He stepped closer and pulled her trousers down her legs. “Tell me what I smell like.” He left her body to tug off her boots and leggings and then her trousers, leaving her completely bare.
    “Like warmth, like pure areesia in bloom,” she moaned, craving his touch. “Please, Cheltam. Tell me how to please you.”
    “Not Cheltam,” he rasped. “Rafe. Call me Rafe.”
    She nodded. “Rafe.”
    “It’s another name I go by, and we don’t want to let anyone know who I really am,” he continued, as if she needed an explanation. She would call him whatever he wanted so long as he put out this damnable fire within her. He stood and walked her backward until she leaned against a large rock. “Sit back.”
    She rested her buttocks against the boulder but was unprepared when he nudged her legs apart with his knee.
    “You are so blessedly beautiful,” he breathed, staring at her from top to bottom.
    Erin didn’t feel the cold of the air or the rock at her back. She only had eyes for Cheltam—Rafe—until he met her gaze, then she instinctively looked away. Submissive…
    Fingers under her chin tilted her gaze back up. “I want you to look at me.”
    “Yes, Rafe.” Yes, Sir.
    He exhaled heavily. And when he inhaled, he frowned again. “You really aren’t overpowering me with that scent.”
    “So what?” She arched closer to him, wanting his hands back on her. But it wasn’t her place to be aggressive. Rafe had to tell her what he wanted. No, Erin, no. Fight it. You’re in charge. You’re the Handler, not Rafe, Cheltam, whatever he wants to be called.
    “ So …your body is like a furnace, and every other time we’ve been together you’ve been throwing out pheromones left and right. Yet now, nothing? When I can clearly smell your cream?”
    “My cream?”