Bound by Forever: A True Immortality Novel

by Young, S.

  That goddamn, fecking, furry arsehole.

  Sexually frustrated and furious, Niamh threw him a dirty look, then lunged out of the lounger but in the direction of the bedroom. She slid the patio door open with enough force to break the thing, but she didn’t care, as long as a room separated them.

  Blood rushed in her ears with her anger.

  A strong hold gripped her biceps and then her body jerked backward in a spin. She let out a sound of surprise as her chest collided against Kiyo’s.

  He crushed her mouth beneath his.

  It was a deep, hungering, punishing, brutal kiss.

  And Niamh relished every second of it, kissing him back with as much need and aggression. The taste of him, the heat of him … he was perfect. He was right.

  He fit her.

  And it wasn’t enough.

  It felt like it would never be enough.

  She needed him inside her.

  His grip was tight around her arms as he abruptly broke the kiss. The lights in the paper lampshades flickered by the bedside.

  Was she doing that?

  Niamh couldn’t think.

  Kiyo was glaring at her like a man starving.

  She thought he might stop, and if he did, she would more than likely scream from the frustration of it all.

  Yet he surprised her once again.

  His head bent toward hers, his hair tickling her chin as he brushed his lips over hers. Gently. Just a whisper. The sensation was somehow more erotic than the wet, hungry kiss they’d shared seconds before. Niamh whimpered and leaned into him, feeling his erection dig into her stomach.

  He pressed his lips more firmly to hers but the kiss was still soft. Slow. A seduction.

  Her palms slid over his hard pecs, her fingers digging lightly into his smooth, warm skin. He groaned against her lips and as their hands restlessly caressed one another, the kiss built in tempo until Niamh was overwhelmed by the taste of him on her tongue.

  Her lips were wrenched from his but only because he’d grabbed the hem of her T-shirt to whip it over her head. Kiyo’s gaze burned on her breasts as he pushed her toward the bed. Then she was falling, landing across the mattress in a sprawl of hot limbs and desperate need. Strong, agile fingers hooked into her underwear and then they were gone, cool air making her tingle between her legs. Kiyo rid himself of his pajama bottoms faster than she’d seen any man move and suddenly, he was braced over her on the bed.

  Kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts, sucking her nipples.

  It was a fever, a hurry, as if he couldn’t touch and taste every inch of her fast enough. Every one of Niamh’s nerve endings sparked with a sensation that was beyond this world. No one had ever affected her like this. Like they were energy connecting and crackling with impact.

  Her hands roamed freely, exploring him, his strong back and the way it dipped in a valley before meeting his muscular arse, the ripples of his hard abs, the flex of his muscles in his arms. Fingers slid through his thick, soft hair, caressed his lush mouth as her own pouted into a moan when he touched that magical spot between her legs.

  Her skin flushed so hot, she was sure she was going to burst into flames, her heart hammering hard and fast in her chest as he circled her clit with his thumb, all the while sucking and laving at her nipples until they felt almost painful and swollen with sensation.

  “Kiyo,” she panted, climbing toward that clifftop she’d only ever reached alone—

  His thumb disappeared.

  She was about to complain when he kissed her with voracious, sexual intent as he gripped her thighs, spreading her to prod between her legs.

  A jolt of realization hit her.

  This was about to happen.

  And she was pretty certain, even though she was fae, it would hurt like a mother if he just slammed into her. After all, she’d gotten an eyeful of him that night in the park in Moscow and briefly before he climbed over her just then, and he was long and thick. Very girthy.

  “Kiyo!” She broke the kiss, taking hold of his face to get his attention.

  Niamh shivered at the undiluted lust in his eyes.

  She panted for breath, feeling him molten and throbbing at her opening and wanting nothing more than to have him inside her. “I should probably tell you …”

  Kiyo trembled above her, the muscles in his arms popping with restraint. “Tell me …?”

  “It’s just, it’s probably not a good idea to just … Maybe you should ease into … I’m kind of … well … you see, the thing is”—her cheeks flushed bright red—“I’m a virgin.”

  Shock saturated his features. “You’re a what?”

  23

  “You’re a what?” he repeated.

  Despite the shock of her confession, while his mind yelled at him to abort, his dick grew impossibly harder. It liked the sound of being the only one to thrust inside Niamh Farren.

  He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to breathe through the lust. “You’re twenty-six years old,” he argued.

  He felt her stunning, warm, sweetly lush body tense beneath his. “Virgins come in all ages and sizes, Kiyo.”

  Kiyo watched the fascinating gold that had spread through her eyes as he’d fondled her clit disappear back to aquamarine.

  He tried not to look anywhere but there. Not at her swollen mouth or her luscious fucking breasts or the long legs he was dying to have wrapped around him while he fucked her.

  There would be no fucking of a virgin version of Niamh.

  “I didn’t think it would be a deal breaker,” she huffed, indignant.

  Kiyo gave her an incredulous look, cursed under his breath, and forced himself to roll off her. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stare out the window while he tried to will his erection out of existence.

  It was the worst case of blue balls he’d ever had.

  Niamh was a virgin.

  How the hell did that happen? How had a woman that appealing, powerful, confident, and beautiful not had sex? Ever?

  And she wanted Kiyo to be her first?

  Equal measures of male pride and emotional terror overwhelmed him. If she’d waited this long, then it was because she was waiting for it to be right. With the right person. With someone who would be gentle and adore her and take care of her.

  Why the hell would she give a gift like that to Kiyo?

  He didn’t deserve it.

  He’d only hurt her.

  And Niamh was the last person in this universe or any other that he wanted to hurt.

  However, Kiyo didn’t say any of that.

  Instead the first stupid words out of his mouth were said in a mocking, sexually frustrated tone: “I can’t believe you’re still a virgin.”

  He heard her sharp intake of breath.

  But she didn’t answer.

  “Niamh?”

  Suddenly his senses alerted him that he couldn’t smell her as strongly as he had seconds before.

  “No.” Kiyo glanced over his shoulder.

  The bed was empty.

  “No.” Fury and guilt and resentment and worry collided inside him as he hurried out of the room and into the sitting room. No sign of Niamh. Rushing out onto the deck, he didn’t find her there either. And even though he searched the perimeter of the lodge, he knew he wouldn’t find her there.

  Niamh had traveled.

  All because he was an insensitive asshole who didn’t deserve to touch one hair on her head.

  Kiyo was aware of a sharp ache as he turned to look up at the sky.

  Niamh couldn’t travel too far at a time, which meant she’d probably travel far enough to find transport and then head back to the city. Panic and worry set his teeth on edge. What if the pack or Astra or any one of Niamh’s enemies got to her before Kiyo could?

  Sweat dampened his body at the thought.

  What had he been thinking?

  He hadn’t been!

  He’d walked out onto the porch, saw her crying, should have been a decent man who
offered her comfort. Instead he’d stared at her like she was a juicy fucking steak. It wasn’t just the nonexistent nightshirt that bared those magnificent legs. It was the way she looked at him that broke his self-control.

  Niamh looked at him like he made her world better.

  No one had ever looked at him like that.

  And he’d wanted her so much, he damned the consequences.

  When she cottoned on to the fact that he was waiting for her to make the first move, however, he should have let her go. He didn’t.

  He could blame his lack of control on the coming full moon, but the truth was, Kiyo hadn’t been able to think past anything but the desire to be inside her. To look into her eyes as he felt her come around him.

  Her confession was a splash of cold reality. A reminder of who she was and who he was and …

  He bowed his head, the sting of self-reproach burning worse than he remembered.

  How could he speak to her like that? How he could take his own sexual frustration out on her and—

  Kiyo threw back his head and howled.

  His self-condemnation pierced the night sky.

  He couldn’t race after her because he was about to change, but he’d make his way as close to the city as he could so that come morning, no matter if there was still one more night of the full moon ahead of him, Kiyo would be in the city. He was more aware of Niamh’s scent than he’d ever been of one single person.

  And he’d find her.

  If she wanted to kill him when he finally did catch up with her … well, he couldn’t say he would blame her.

  24

  Niamh hadn’t wanted to remain at the hotel.

  She felt trapped in the room that smelled of Kiyo.

  Perhaps it was her hurt, rejection, her fury, or all three, but Niamh had never traveled as far and as often as she had last night. She’d traveled with the hotel in mind, popping into the middle of the forest, taking a moment to gather her energy, going again, and popping up in the middle of a small mountain village. Thankfully no one witnessed her suddenly materializing out of thin air.

  Niamh continued like this until she landed in a heap in the middle of the hotel room. She was covered in sweat and felt like she’d been weighed down by a hundred leather-covered iron cuffs.

  She’d passed out, waking up in the middle of the night to drag her arse into a shower and then to bed.

  Come morning, she hadn’t wanted to be alone in the room. Not that she thought Kiyo would be on his way back to find her. He had another night of the full moon ahead of him and hurting Niamh’s feelings probably wasn’t a priority for him.

  Not feeling hungry, she forewent breakfast and strolled twenty minutes or so into Chiyoda to see the Imperial Palace. She wandered into the gardens first where she got distracted. Discovering Kokyo Gaien National Garden was much like any of the other national gardens she’d visited in Tokyo so far: like stepping into another world within the city. Not even the buildings towering over in the distance could take away the sense of peace to be found there. The trees were no longer completely barren but beginning to grow leaves, and the grass was losing that frosted dullness. But more special than any of that, two cherry blossom trees had begun to bloom early.

  Niamh neared them, gazing upon the sun sparkling through branches of the pale-pink flowers. They existed in a row of cherry blossoms on either side of a wide path that cut through a section of the garden. She could only imagine how spectacular it would look once all the trees had bloomed.

  Finding an empty seat on a bench, Niamh tried to relax, taking in the peek of a view of the Imperial Palace in the distance.

  But no matter how beautiful her surroundings were, or how much she watched locals relaxing and tourists taking photos, Niamh couldn’t rid herself of the awful knot in her gut.

  “I can’t believe you’re still a virgin.”

  Niamh winced, hearing Kiyo’s scornful voice in her head. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. He might as well have called her a pathetic loser. And his distaste for the idea of sleeping with someone of such little experience was obvious.

  She was a fool.

  Because she’d thought he wanted to make love to her … to her. To Niamh.

  She hadn’t realized he just wanted to scratch a fecking itch.

  Tears burned in her eyes and she pushed them back, her lips twitching into a sardonic smirk. She was one of the most powerful beings on the planet and she’d been reduced to the mentality of a broken-hearted teenager by an emotionally constipated arsehole.

  You’re Niamh Farren, she heard Ronan’s biting tone in her mind. You can kick his arse until the end of time. You are a fecking goddess, Nee. And don’t you forget it. He’s lucky you allowed him to touch you.

  Determination thrummed through her and she found herself throwing her shoulders back. That inner voice was right. Who was Kiyo to treat her like this? And who was she to take it?

  Well, she wouldn’t.

  She had a mission in life, and she wasn’t going to be distracted by that wolf any longer.

  Pushing off the bench, she ignored the persistent knot in her gut, the sadness deep within the pits of her soul, and focused on a purpose beyond herself. And she couldn’t very well do anything to save the world if she didn’t fuel up.

  Following her heightened senses south, she discovered a casual eatery facing onto the park. She ordered some food and found a bistro table outside to watch the world pass as she ate. They’d been lucky with their weather since arriving in the city. Every day had been crisp and sunny.

  “It’s a beautiful spot, isn’t it?”

  Too busy looking at the park to her left, Niamh started, almost choking on her soba noodles.

  Seated at her small table, having appeared as if out of nowhere, was a stunning redhead with amber-gold eyes. With her tip-turned nose, full mouth, and the sprinkle of golden freckles across her cheeks, she was hard to forget.

  Niamh swallowed, dropping her chopsticks while she tried to remain cool and calm. “Astra.”

  Astra’s smile was beatific but if someone looked closely enough, they’d see that smile didn’t reach her eyes. At all. “Sister.”

  Niamh bristled at the designation, especially as they weren’t entirely unalike in physical appearance. “We’re not sisters.”

  Manufactured hurt brimmed in the Norwegian fae’s eyes. “We’re all family. But you and I are closer than the others. I know you feel it. Two sides of the same coin. We even look the same. More so now that you’ve dyed your hair.” She cocked her head to study Niamh. “I like it, sis.”

  “What do you want?” Niamh decided it was best to get straight to the point; otherwise she’d end up strangling the psychopath.

  “I wanted to talk with you.” Astra shrugged. “That filthy wolf was always in the way, but I see you finally rid yourself of him.”

  It was hard not to react to her snooty, nasty tone. But Niamh kept it together. “You don’t like werewolves?”

  “They’re a dilution. So, no. And I particularly don’t like that one.” She leaned forward and Niamh tried not to flinch as Astra stroked her fingers over her temple. “He shut the door.”

  Anger coursed through her at the reminder of what she’d done to her. Niamh grabbed her wrist and threw it away from her. “You’ll never get inside my head again.”

  “You’re angry?” Astra seemed surprised.

  How the hell could she be surprised that Niamh was furious with her for planting visions in her mind? She said as much.

  “I was giving you purpose, Nee.” Astra’s wide-eyed innocence didn’t work on Niamh.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  She held up her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I won’t.”

  “And you weren’t giving me purpose. You were trying to turn me dark like you.”

  Sadness flickered over Astra’s features. “Not dark, Niamh. I was trying to help you right the wrongs of this world while we’re stuck here. Does that make me dark? I never
thought of it like that. I just wanted to make bad people pay for the evil things they’ve done. Vampires who kill. Humans who abuse. I thought you and I had that in common.”

  “It’s not our job. We aren’t judge, jury, and executioner,” Niamh repeated Kiyo’s words. “And it’s not what you want. You want to open the gate. To destroy humanity.”

  “No.” Astra leaned forward. “I want to return home to where we belong. Aine said the gate will close behind us.”

  “If you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you know it won’t.”

  Astra shrugged. “That’s merely a possibility. And a risk I’m willing to take to go home. I want my brother and my sisters with me.” Tears filled her eyes. “Thea is already lost now that she’s a filthy dog … Rose is making things difficult consorting with the queen’s consort … please tell me I haven’t lost you too.”

  “You never had me.”

  Fury blazed in Astra’s eyes, the gold dancing like flame.

  And then abruptly they were amber again.

  Wearing a mask of tranquility, Astra settled back in her chair and a coffee cup appeared in her hand. So blatant. So uncaring of the humans around them.

  She took a casual sip, studying Niamh over the rim of the cup.

  “He’s not worth it, you know,” Astra said. “Your distraction from the mission. No dog is worth it.”

  If the cow called Kiyo a dog or any other insulting adjective one more time … Holding on to her restraint, trying not to give herself away, Niamh shrugged. “Why does he bother you? Are you afraid of him?”

  “Please,” Astra scoffed. “I’m an immortal fae. He’s a furry speck in the landscape of time that no one will remember.”

  She didn’t know he was immortal.

  Thank goodness.

  Niamh relaxed marginally. “Then what’s your problem with him? Other than your glaringly obvious prejudice, of course.”

  Astra scowled. “At first, I really had no problem with him. I didn’t mind that someone else was there for you while I couldn’t be, to look out for you while you were so vulnerable after Ronan’s death. But then the dog began to influence you in ways I didn’t like. He guided you off our mission.”