Dark Illusion

by Feehan, Christine

  “You like me to tease your nipples, don’t you?” He whispered the temptation. “Each time I tug like this, or pinch like this, you get wetter. Don’t you, Julija? Between your legs. You are hot. So hot. For me. That’s all mine. All that hot liquid spice I want pouring down my throat.” He took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching, his mind fully merged with hers, in order to feel when the pleasure rode that fine line before pain. When he found it, he stopped and simply tugged so that she gasped, her face flushing with need.

  “I asked you a question, kessake.” He didn’t repeat the question. She’d heard him. She could blush all she wanted, turning her entire body that soft rose. He didn’t mind, but he waited for her answer.

  She licked her lips, her breath coming in soft, ragged pants. “Yes. I do like you to tease my nipples.” Her face flushed that soft rose that he loved.

  “And it makes you wet?”

  She nodded. “Very.”

  He smiled at her. “And you will allow me to do whatever pleases me?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly.

  He wanted her to be firm in her answer. In her desires. In the things she wanted for herself. Mostly, he wanted the world to fall away for her so she could have just a few hours, perhaps the entire rest of the night before she gave one more thought to challenging a high mage—one who terrified her.

  He shaped what he needed in his mind, and then with one hand, he waved, spreading the jewelry out across his thighs. Each gem sparkled, the sconces he’d lit dancing light over them. The chain was a fine gold, twisted braids, the links so delicate they looked fragile, yet he knew, because he had forged them the way he wanted, that they were strong, just like Julija. Deliberately, he’d made the chain long, so when she wore it, it would loop low, halfway to her belly button.

  “It’s beautiful,” she admitted.

  He didn’t want to wait, to give her time to be afraid. This was play, not torture. This was to make her feel pleasure, not pain. This was beautiful between the two of them, not something corrupt and ugly that would hurt her in the end. He leaned forward and took her left breast into his mouth. He knew his mouth was scalding hot, and she gasped, confirming it. He suckled, kneading gently, using his tongue. Using the edge of his teeth to tease her.

  He brought the clamp to either side of her nipple and adjusted it to the exact pressure he’d used with his finger and thumb. No more. Only pleasure. Again, she gasped and then she was back to her ragged breathing. He repeated the action with the second clamp. The chain swung delicately against her skin, glittering each time the flickering lights reached it.

  She looked beautiful kneeling between his thighs, looking up at him, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, wearing nothing but his chain. He thought of it as a chain of love. He loved her so much and he never wanted her to be afraid of anything at all. He wanted her to know he would always take care of her.

  “How does that feel, sívamet? And be honest with me.”

  She nodded. Swallowed. “I like it. It feels like your fingers.”

  It was designed to feel like his fingers. He wanted only pleasure for her. He reached for the chain and tugged gently. She gasped.

  “And that?”

  “Like fire. So good.”

  “I need your mouth on me.” He did. Right away. If his cock got any harder, he was going to shatter like glass. Just looking at her was sexy. This night was designed for her, but having his woman surrendering everything to him was as erotic as it could get. He hadn’t realized he would feel this way.

  She cupped his sac, her fingers rolling and tugging gently. She leaned down and licked and then sucked. His fist automatically tightened as his head nearly exploded with sheer pleasure. She spent time lavishing attention on his balls, so that they grew hotter and the seed inside boiled and churned in expectation.

  Julija licked up his shaft, from base to crown, her tongue lingering for a minute in that little vee just under the flared head. Without warning her lips stretched over him and she engulfed his cock, taking him into the hot cavern of her mouth. At once her mouth was tight and her tongue danced, driving him wild.

  Her hands went to his thighs, just as he’d said he’d dreamt of, leaving him to control how deep and how hard he took her mouth. He’d said this was about her giving him pleasure, but for him, it was about showing her that her trust was well placed. He moved in gently, very carefully. When he took the chain and tugged, he did so with the same care. Wanting her to see that this was love, too. That anytime they came together, it was love.

  He found that her mouth could make him lose control if he allowed it. It was wet and hot and tight. She was good at what she was doing, too good, driving him right out of his mind, because for him, she wanted to be good. His pleasure mattered to her. Love rose up. She could have refused. He’d half expected her to. Instead, she knelt at his feet, sexy as all get-out, wearing his jewelry when it had to have scared her to death.

  He tugged again to give her that bite of fire, and then he waved the chain away, soothing her nipples at the same time. He bunched her hair in his fist and pulled to get her mouth to release him. If she didn’t, he would be sending his seed right down her throat.

  “Another minute and it will be too late. I want to be inside you.”

  Reluctantly, Julija’s mouth freed him, but her tongue chased after his cock. With one wave of his hand as he rose, his clothes were gone. He took her to the cool earth right there on her hands and knees, his hand checking to make certain she was ready for him.

  She felt hot. Needy. Pushing back against his palm. Hungry for him. He caught his cock and guided it into her, not waiting, just surging inside. Hard. Streaks of fire raced over both of them. He felt it in her mind. She felt it in his. His hands went to her hips, and then he was losing himself in her. In paradise. Taking her to that place with him.

  He wrapped her in love. In him. Showing her what she did to him. What she gave him, even as his body declared over and over that he worshiped her.

  “More.” She’d said it softly enough, but it was a demand. “I’m not fragile, Isai, not with you. Let yourself lose control.”

  He loved that tone. More, he loved her command. He savored looking at her, that body that was all his. He ran his hand lovingly down her spine, from nape to buttocks. He caught her hips, digging his fingers deep, and did exactly as she asked—he let go. Burying himself in her over and over, a hard, deep driving that was endless.

  Her body jolted with every stroke, her breasts swaying. She went down on her elbows, but that just allowed him to get an even better angle. He used his body like a piston, pounding deep, letting the fiery sensations take him. Her breath became ragged and she made little musical noises that bound his heart up in wonder.

  “I’m so close,” she gasped. “Hurry, Isai, I’m not going to be able to hold on.”

  “Let go, sívamet. Fly for me.”

  He felt that first ripple running through her and he slid one hand to her belly, wanting to feel as the tsunami overtook her. He kept his mind firmly merged with hers, sharing his own reaction, the way fire began spreading up his legs, gathering force. The magma burning in his balls, churning like a massive storm ready to throw out a comet streaking across the sky.

  He let it happen. Welcomed it. His balls tightened as the firestorm took him, spreading through his groin to center in his cock. He thought he couldn’t stretch any further, grow any thicker, but her tight channel was scorching hot and squeezing down on him with a silken fist that was stronger than he could have conceived of. Hotter as well.

  Isai heard himself call her name as he emptied himself in her, sharing the ecstasy with her. You did this. You gave this to me, Julija. Your surrender, your self lessness. Thank you for loving and trusting me enough.

  Her body surrounded his, her orgasm biting deep, clamping down on his cock, wringing every last drop from him. He collapsed over her as she went all the way to the floor of the chamber. At the last moment, he managed t
o place a thick mat of grass beneath her. They lay together, their hearts pounding. He felt that same out-of-control rhythm in his cock, as it jerked and throbbed to the beat of their hearts.

  It took minutes, or maybe hours, who knew the passing of time, before he had the energy to lift his head and spread kisses down her back. “You are so brave,” he murmured, meaning it. “So very brave.”

  “If I could breathe, I’d tell you I love you.”

  He smiled against her back. She always managed to make him want to laugh. His woman. He rubbed his face along the sweet curve of her lower back, seeing the way her fair skin reddened when his bristles came into close contact.

  “We could just lie right here, Isai. Not move. If the sun comes, we’ll just fry together.”

  He frowned and rolled off her. “But you do not actually burn, Julija, and you have been Carpathian all along. You did not have to go through the conversion.”

  “I burn.” She rolled over onto her back and regarded him steadily. He sat facing her, trying to figure out the puzzle that was Julija. “I’ve always burned. I learned to wear long sleeves all the time and a hat to shade my face. I wear sunglasses all the time and heavy-duty sunscreen. You won’t ever see me tanning on the beach.”

  “Getting a sunburn and actually burning in the sun are two different things, kessake.” He called her a cat—she reminded him of one with her lazy way of stretching and then curling back in on herself. “If I were to stay in the sun, it would kill me. I am an ancient and it has become much more difficult to wake early or go to ground late.”

  Julija glanced around the chamber. “You thought we would both sleep in the ground.” She made it a statement.

  “We did the other night.”

  “No, I lay in the soil because it felt good, but I didn’t bury myself deep. I didn’t cover my face. I wouldn’t like that at all, and I don’t need to do it.”

  He reached out and gently shackled her ankle, his thumb sliding up and down her skin. “Uh-oh. I believe we are about to have our first real fight,” he said gently. Sadly. Watching her closely.

  She sat up as well, but she didn’t pull her leg away. “There’s no need to have a fight. We can do what we did together the other night. We were close, but I didn’t have to feel as if I was being buried alive.”

  She put one hand to her throat and then, noticing that he was watching her carefully, stroked it as if that had been her intention all along. He wasn’t buying it.

  “Julija, were you ever buried alive? Did someone do that to you?”

  He expected her to say Barnabas. He already had the man so entrenched in his mind, he was so absolutely certain, that when she replied, he at first didn’t comprehend.

  “My father. Anatolie. He buried me several times.” Her voice was very low, and she looked around the chamber as if she expected him to leap out at her from behind a rock.

  Isai sat in silence trying to digest that. What father would be so cruel to his daughter? “Was it a punishment? What crime did you commit that your father would do such a terrible thing?”

  She shook her head. Shivering. Wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. Immediately, Isai waved his hand to clothe her in a warm robe. Gathering her into his arms, he sat in the chair again, this time with his woman cuddled on his lap.

  “When I was very young, he wanted to see how much Carpathian I had in me. I remember her crying. Trying to tell him not to do it. She whispered to me all night. Told me to be brave, that she was proud of me.”

  “She?” he prompted.

  “My birth mother. Francise. I don’t remember much about her, although I try to hold on to her, but I was so young when she died.”

  “You said more than once?” He had to know. How could any man do such a thing to a child? He didn’t ask how old she’d been, but he knew, from what she’d told him, that her mother had died when she was very young.

  “The second time I was twelve and had gotten my period. Carpathian women don’t have periods. Not like we do.”

  “We? Julija, you are Carpathian.”

  “I’m both. And mage women have periods, so when mine showed up, Anatolie was furious.” She pushed deeper into his chest, nuzzling with her cheek. “He talked to Crina and she convinced him he needed to be sure.”

  Isai wanted to swear, but what was the use? That time she’d had no mother to whisper to her as she’d lain beneath the earth.

  “It was the most terrifying night of my life. I thought a million times that I was going to suffocate. I could feel my air closing off, and I just don’t think I can do that again.”

  “The third time? Was Barnabas involved?” He was just so certain. The man was cruel. He liked hurting things. Xaviero had been crueler than any other mage ever recorded. If Barnabas was his son, trained in his ways from childhood, there was a good chance that he was equally as cruel.

  “He objected strenuously when Anatolie told him he was going to test me again. I don’t remember how old I was at that point, but years had gone by. Barnabas left angry and threatened retaliation if I was harmed. It felt strange to have him stand up for me and, more, to threaten revenge. In any case, I was able to get through the night, but I didn’t like it.”

  He heard in her voice the struggle she’d had with sanity, but he didn’t question her further, wondering why Barnabas had passed up his chance to be cruel. “Was that before you knew he was involved in a cruel hoax on you?”

  “Yes. When I first started attending his classes. Anatolie told him I was Carpathian but when he fed, he said he didn’t believe it. My blood wasn’t . . . intoxicating or powerful enough.”

  There it was. Barnabas had deliberately sneered at blood that was both those things as well as compelling. There had never been a doubt in his mind that Julija was Carpathian, but he’d wanted to appear to her as a man who would stand up to her father. She still didn’t get that he had been the instigator, deliberately questioning so Anatolie would put her in the ground.

  Isai didn’t enlighten her. It was over with. Barnabas hadn’t been showing her kindness at all. He kissed her upturned lips. “Let’s get you in the soil, but just like the other night. You will not be buried, Julija.”

  He opened the earth right over the spot she’d been playing in earlier. Calling the cats to them, he slid down into the cool soil, removing her robe as he did so. Holding her close to him, he waited until all the cats were with them before he covered them with a thick blanket of dirt. All the cats wanted to be pressed close and under the soil. In the end he lay with his head out of the bed of dirt with his woman curled right into him. Only when she fell asleep did he cover himself completely.

  18

  The wind howled across the lake, carrying the promise of snow. Every gust sent a bitter cold, chasing the needles off the trees. At times the howl turned to shrieks of fury, as if winter herself was angry with waiting. Above, the clouds were heavy and growing darker with each passing hour. Although the moon was full, shining her light was difficult through the gray shadows crossing the night sky.

  Julija shivered and moved closer to Isai. “I don’t like this weather. It came on too fast.”

  “It is real, little mage,” he assured, curving his arm around her waist. “If it were not, I would have stashed you somewhere safe, even had I been forced to send you to sleep.”

  She widened her eyes at him, a little shocked, but anger stirred beneath the astonishment. “You can really do that?”

  “Yes.” He sounded distant, matter-of-fact. Not paying attention to their conversation.

  Isai wasn’t looking down at her, but out, over the lake. They had to walk around it, circling the entire lake. Finding the exact spot where Iulian had sacrificed his life in order to seal the book to the lake wouldn’t be easy. They were counting on the fact that she had a connection with Iulian and would pick up his trail when they came across it, and that Iulian’s blood would call to Isai’s. If they were wrong, and this hadn’t been the last place he’d come, she had
no idea what they were going to do. The Sierras were a huge mountain range and finding Iulian’s resting place would be impossible.

  “I can do that, too,” she said.

  Isai scanned the rocks around the lake, and then the meadow, his senses and attention on making certain they were safe. That was his job, while hers was to pick up any psychic footprint Iulian had left behind. He was doing a better job than she was, and for some reason, she’d woken up annoyed. She sighed. Not annoyed. That wasn’t the truth. She rubbed her palm over the mark of the dragon. She should have told him everything she believed. It sounded ridiculous, even to her, but the thoughts kept coming into her head and she couldn’t keep them out. It was a good thing she didn’t have his full attention.

  “You have my full attention,” Isai said, still not looking at her. He slid his hand down her hip to cover the hand over the mark of the Dragon-seeker on her body. “And you cannot put me to sleep, even with your mage spells, sívamet. Not unless I give my consent.”

  “Why would you think that?” she challenged, more because she didn’t want to think too much about why she was so disgruntled and out of sorts.

  He pressed his hand over hers and then moved it up to cover her womb. Her heart jumped, and she looked up at him. His eyes met hers, sapphire blue, deeper than any color she’d ever seen. His eyes held knowledge, too much. She had to look away, feeling the inevitable burn of tears. She wasn’t going to cry in front of him. Not again. Not when it seemed to her that in every crisis, that was her first reaction.

  “This is not a crisis,” he murmured. He curled his fingers around hers, took her hand off her dragon and brought her fingertips to his lips.

  She snuck another quick peek at him, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. Once again, he was scanning the entire area around them. Their six shadow cats had spread out under orders from Isai. He was certain they would be attacked the moment they found the book. She didn’t feel eyes on them, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone or anything watching them. She supposed the smart thing to do would be to hang back, let them find the book and then attack.