The Pact of the White Blade Knights

by Barbara Russell

  A hot spiral of desire closed around his cock that beat against the trousers as if angry at being caged. His power brewed like an upcoming storm, claiming a new row of tiles.

  Hazel loosened her hair, and a raven silky curtain cascaded on her naked shoulders, releasing the scent of jasmine. His mouth went dry. He didn’t dare move or speak in case he said or did something that ruined this moment.

  She unbuttoned her chemise, one clasp at a time. After the first three, her taut pink nipples peeked through the flimsy fabric, and his mouth watered. He wanted to suck them hard. She unlocked two more, and the chemise opened like a flower. Then she lowered the straps, baring more than the top of her breasts.

  “I want you to kiss me here.” She cupped her breasts, bringing the pink tips up. “And here.” Her hands slithered lower and stopped between her legs.

  His power stilled as if shocked, but Tyon wasn’t fooled. It was the eye of the tornado, the calm before the storm. And a new fear choked him slowly like a rising tide. It’d been a long time since he’d pleasured a woman. Five long years. What if he wasn’t able to do it anymore? What if she didn’t like it?

  Hazel stretched her arms towards him. “Tyon.”

  He passed a hand over his face.

  “Come here.” Smokiness filled her voice.

  He obeyed. She cupped his nape and dragged him down for a sweet kiss. He trailed his lips over the enticing curve of her jaw and neck, went lower on her collarbone. A heated shiver crawled down his back when he grazed the swell of her breasts. They were softer than he’d imagined, and the fragrant scent of jasmine and lemon lingered on them. Hazel trembled under his touch. Little moans escaped from her parted lips, and the sounds were like a vice around his balls.

  He pushed the chemise aside, fully revealing a rosy peak, and drew it into his eager mouth. She arched her back, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. Her fingers entwined in his hair.

  “Tyon.” The way she whispered his name tightened his groin painfully.

  He tongued her nipple, sucking, nipping, and lapping while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. She writhed and wriggled underneath him.

  He bent his knees and kissed his way down. She widened her legs. The taut muscles of her abdomen contracted beneath soft, velvety skin. He kissed her navel, her hip, and her inner thigh. The scent of her arousal spiced up the air.

  His power hummed a low rhythm as if it didn’t want to intrude, too tired to get out. He parted the opening of her drawers until her secret heat wet his fingers.

  She let out a long breath when he stroked her damp folds with his tongue. The rhythm beat by his cock pulsated quicker, and he clasped his hands on Hazel’s supple thighs to focus. He stroked her engorged core, and her leg muscles tightened. Her fingers dug in his hair almost painfully. He slid a finger inside her then another, stretching her slick channel. Her muscles contracted around his fingers in welcoming.

  He licked and nipped and stroked her, his thumb running circles around her nubbin until she was a squirming mess, whispering his name. Then she threw her head back, arched her luscious body, and screamed her release.

  He gazed up, still massaging her and feeling the quick spasms rocking her body. Her breasts bounced slightly, their tips glistening and extended. She stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, panting.

  His heart pounded everywhere—in his temples, his throat, his cock.

  She held his face in her hands and pulled him up into a deep kiss that burned him from the inside out. The more he kissed her the more his need was fuelled instead of being quenched. Stepping around him, she switched places and pinned him on the wall. Her teeth scraped his neck and chest, his skin goose-bumping in reply. His cilice bit into his flesh, but he barely registered the pain.

  “Hazel,” he murmured when a new surge of power cracked the mirror.

  “Shush.” She knelt in front of him. “It’s my turn now.”

  “Wait—”

  Too late. In one swift move, she unbuttoned his trousers and closed her hot mouth around his enthusiastic erection. Her velvety tongue swirled over the blunt tip, and his knees weakened. He was about to explode from desire, from the effort of keeping his power under a threadbare control that seemed to mock him, from his feelings for her bursting in his gut.

  Oblivious to the battle raging within him, she sucked hard, welcoming him deep in her velvet mouth. Her hand trailed over his thigh right over the cilice. The mix of pain and pleasure tossed his control this way and that, confusing it. He wanted her, he wanted this too much, and he wouldn’t ruin everything unleashing his power.

  Her fingers fondled his tight balls as her tongue ran along the stretched length of his cock. He glanced down at her lips locked around him, her breasts brushing his thighs, and her hard nipples pointing at him until he couldn’t hold it anymore.

  He groaned when he came, an awful, shuddering noise that was more beast than human. It was painful and not all relieving. He only wanted more.

  She didn’t stop milking him, his shaft spasming inside her. She didn’t stop even when the floor shook, and the door rattled in its frame as if she couldn’t believe something bad would happen. There she was, his anchor to the earth. His power raged, but it met a barrier that held it back.

  His mind was split in two, trying to protect her from his unleashed beast and to enjoy the gift she was giving him. She released him and planted slow kisses on his abdomen. His muscles rippled, and his body jerked every time her lips met his skin.

  Exhaustion worked through him too hard now for his power to do more than rattle the cage.

  She slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. “How do you feel?”

  He didn’t know. He felt like he could lift a mountain with a finger, but at the same time like he didn’t have the energy to crawl into his bed. She peered at him with her big lilac eyes, waiting for a reply.

  “I . . .” He leaned back against the wall for support. Her soft, warm body ignited a fierce need of protection he wasn’t familiar with. He’d always wanted to protect his fellow knights, but this was different. This was visceral and feral.

  She put a finger on his lips again. “Why don’t we go to bed? You don’t have to say anything.”

  Sleeping with her his arms sounded like a damn good thing.

  Chapter 18

  HAZEL STIRRED IN Tyon’s bed. She tried to roll on her side, but he held her close, arms and legs entwined, gripped around her like vines. His broad, naked chest pressed against her back, his glorious erection nesting on her rear. The cold bite of the cilice pressed on her skin as well.

  Her body throbbed in delicious places, reminding her of where Tyon’s lips and tongue had been. She rubbed her thighs together at a flare of sweetness and longing for him spread through her.

  He kissed her neck and shifted closer. “Good morning.”

  She turned in his arms and tucked her head under his chin. “It is a good morning indeed. We’re still here, the world hasn’t been destroyed, and the house is intact.”

  “Do I detect some amusement in your tone? Why, I might think you’re making fun of me.” He inched back and met her gaze, a brow arched.

  “I wouldn’t dare, sir.” She nuzzled his chest and inhaled the scent of pines and male musk. “I’m just saying your power didn’t kill us.”

  “The bathroom has been damaged.” His fingers ran through the tangled mass of her hair. “And we broke the mirror. You know what they say about broken mirrors. They’re a curse.”

  “Those things can be repaired, and—”

  He pulled her closer and crushed his mouth over hers. His tongue parted her lips, but hesitated. The kiss turned sweet and gentle as he nibbled on her bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth.

  “How was it for you?” he whispered, hesitation and concern creeping in his voice. “Was I good?”

  A frown creased his brow as he traced her jaw. Good God, he was worried.

  She took his hand. “It was
wonderful. You were wonderful.”

  “I haven’t touched a woman in years. I never wanted to. Until I met you.”

  Sunlight from the window backlit him, forming a golden halo around his dark hair. The throb of sinful pleasure beating between her thighs turned into a warm, cosy feeling of compassion. She caressed the stubble on his chin. “You’re everything I’ve always dreamt of. You could never, ever disappoint me.” She hugged him tight, his heart beating against her cheek. “There was something odd though.”

  “What?” A sudden alarmed tone rang in his voice.

  “I felt something, like a pressure on my skin, a force trying to push me away.”

  “It was my power.” He caressed her breast, teasing the nipple. Her body responded immediately, sensations spearing through it. “But you pushed it down. You tamed it.”

  His erection twitched as if to point out that since nothing bad happened the previous night, they could have real sex, perhaps?

  “Can’t we tame it some more?” she practically purred.

  A shy, boyish smile lit his face. The air around them wavered, charged with his surging power.

  “We’re going to do it slowly.” He ran a hand over her shoulder, arm, and thigh. “I don’t want to provoke my power, and I want to take my time with you.” His lips brushed her jaw, neck, and collarbone until they closed around a breast.

  She dug her fingers on the bedsheet and arched her back. The bed gave a lurch, and Tyon paused. His power pressed on her skin, but it wasn’t the harsh tug of last night.

  His hand travelled along her leg reverently as if he were touching something precious. Another tremor shook the air when he slipped two hard fingers inside her. Wetness dripped from between her thighs. His thumb spread the moisture over her sensitive bud, and she let out a cry when tension built within her.

  “Tyon!”

  He took her mouth in a firm, slow kiss, his tongue stroking hers lazily. She put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him closer, feeling the hard metal of the cilice. He shifted his position, and she jolted when his engorged shaft touched her slick entrance. She rocked her hips, wanting more frisson, more contact, more of his heat.

  “Does the cilice bother you?” he asked, kissing her jaw.

  “You are worried to take it off, are you?”

  “Yes.” Another kiss.

  “Leave it. I don’t care as long as you’re inside me.”

  “Are you sure?” he whispered, a drop of sweat beading his forehead.

  “Oh God, yes.” She pushed her hips to meet him and rubbed herself against him.

  He closed his eyes, muscles standing out, and cock twitching impatiently.

  The blunt tip slid inside her. It was a mere inch, but her muscles clenched almost painfully around it. Propping on his elbows, he thrust forwards another inch. His power slammed against her body, but she pushed it down, not wanting any distraction from the wonderful sensation between her legs. Masculine scent surrounded her. His big body loomed over her as if to shield her from anything bad.

  Another inch stretched her, tearing a moan from her throat. He kissed her deeply while rotating his hips and gaining a few more inches. With a last push, he was fully inside, sheathed in her wet channel. They stared at each other, frozen, even her heartbeat slowed.

  Then he started moving. Each shove seemed to go deeper, stretching her more. Muscles rippling with energy, he increased the rhythm. She bit his shoulder, hard, and he groaned deep in his throat. Pleasure jerked through her and brought her closer to the edge. The slow, steady rhythm sent lightning coursing through her blood. His chest brushed hers with each thrust, his warm breath fanning over her neck.

  She grabbed his biceps and caressed his back, feeling rugged, bumping skin. More scars.

  He lowered his head for a quick kiss and bit her bottom lip. His shaft stretched her and filled her, spreading ecstasy in her lower belly.

  “Hazel,” he breathed, the word like a prayer.

  Her inner muscles spasmed around his shaft. She shouted his name. He kept pushing until he withdrew from her in a fluid motion and roared his pleasure. A hot spurt dampened her abdomen. Thank goodness he’d thought about that.

  His shoulders hunched as he panted, his chest touching hers.

  She caressed his face. “Are you all right?”

  He tilted his head up, a crooked smile twitching his lips. “Heaven. You?”

  Her reply was a kiss on his lips. “Tyon.”

  He rolled off her, caged her in his arms, and held her close. Her muscles slackened, and she relaxed in his embrace. There was no safer, warmer, and sweeter place on earth than Tyon’s bed and the cage of his body. She’d gladly be trapped here forever.

  Forever. He had forever. She hadn’t.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, caressing her arm.

  Hellfire, he could read her so well. “You have many years in front of you.” She hated the whiny note in her words.

  “Oh, Hazel.” He hugged her tightly. “Don’t worry about that. When I find my knights, if you want, you can become a sin-eater.”

  She ran a fingernail on his stubble. “Do you need all your knights for that?”

  “Yes, and becoming a sin-eater is not something you should accept lightly. Being a sin-eater means being in constant danger, means taking an oath and sacrificing your normal life for a cause.”

  “I’m ready as long as I can be with you.”

  His thumb stroked her mouth. “You don’t have to decide now, and I’ll be with you, whatever you decide.”

  She had no doubt about what her heart wanted. It wanted Tyon, forever, and it wanted to help him in any possible way. Becoming a sin-eater meant fighting evil people like the Hierophant. She could do that.

  A harsh knocking on the door echoed, ripping the morning air.

  He kissed her forehead, groaning. “I’ll answer it and put the kettle on.”

  “Great idea.” She stretched her arms above her head. The blanket slipped down, revealing a nipple that seemed to curiously glance around.

  Tyon growled and paused buttoning his shirt, his gaze on her. She smiled and lowered the blanket a few more inches, revealing both her taut peaks. He stalked towards her and closed his mouth around a breast. A moan left her lips when his teeth scraped the sensitive skin. Wetness pooled between her thighs in a flash. She was ready for him again.

  The knock stubbornly came one more.

  Tyon muttered a curse. “It’d better be important.” He kissed her lips quickly and finished dressing, covering his beautiful body.

  She tilted her head, enjoying the view of his handsome face and bedraggled hair. He padded out of the room, glancing at her one last time before closing the door. His heated golden gaze lingered on her body.

  Hazel slipped into a light lime dress, probably more fit for spring or summer, but she wasn’t in the mood for dark colours, and this morning was like a rebirth. After she fixed her hair and clunked down the stairs, Detective Harrisons’s voice drifted from the sitting room.

  “And Reginald has been taken into custody,” he said to Tyon when she stepped into the room. He took off his hat and bowed. “Madam, I apologise for barging here.”

  She offered a quick curtsy. “Do not worry, sir.”

  Tyon flashed a grin at her. It held desire, care, and something else sweet she couldn’t place. A sort of companionship that hadn’t been there before.

  A brown parcel lay on the table, and a pull tugged at her chest towards it, distracting her from Tyon. She massaged the spot, frowning.

  “I was saying to Tyon that Reginald fessed up. He told us everything about the atropine.” Harrisons scratched the top of his head. “The chap was quite distressed.”

  “Reginald might’ve poisoned poor Miss Rachel, but I don’t think he killed her,” she said, fighting the urge to peek into the brown bag.

  “He doesn’t have an alibi for the night of Rachel’s murder though. He said he roamed the streets for hours until he returned home. He could�
�ve sneaked into Rachel’s room and stabbed her.” Harrisons shrugged. “But I agree. He didn’t strike me as a killer. It’s a gut feeling. After all these years, I think I developed a sixth sense for criminals, and Reginald doesn’t fit the bill. But I’ve been wrong before.” He put his hat on and flashed a smile. “Well, I have to go back to the station. Hope that helps.” He gestured towards the table and the parcel.

  Tyon went to follow him towards the foyer.

  Harrisons waved a hand. “Don’t trouble yourself. I know the way. Enjoy your breakfast.”

  The front door opened and closed, and Hazel drummed her fingers on the table.

  “What is it?”

  “The canopy vase.” Tyon unwrapped the parcel.

  The tug on her chest increased when he uncovered the vase, or what was left of it, and laid the pieces on the table. It was broken in two, and a pang hit her when she trailed a finger over the cut.

  “The police don’t need it anymore, and Harrisons was kind enough to bring it to me.”

  “I feel something.” She touched her chest. “Right here. It’s like it’s calling me.”

  He was next to her in a flash. “Did you feel it before when you worked with the hallow?”

  “No. Just now.” She sat on a chair in front of the broken terracotta.

  “Is it painful?” He stroked her jaw with his knuckles.

  “Only odd. It’s like heartburn.” She squeezed his fingers. “Has my light changed?”

  “No. It shines red. It’s still contaminated.” The frown on his face didn’t relax. “We’ll have breakfast then go to Miss Verna. I want her to have a look at the letters. Perhaps she can tell us something about Rachel’s affair with one of the servants.”

  Hazel nodded and pushed the vase away.

  “Unless you prefer to stay here and rest.” He crouched next to her, concern burning in his gaze.

  She smirked. “Only if you stay with me in bed.”

  ~ * ~

  THE PULL OF the vase died a swift death once Hazel left Tyon’s house. In a way, she missed the link with the hallow, but at the same time, she was glad the tug had stopped. The more they rode away from it the more the tug turned dull. By the time they arrived at Miss Verna’s house, not even the echo of the pull troubled her.