by Jami Gray
She huffed out a laugh but didn’t argue. Instead, together they stripped each other with little finesse. When heated skin met heated skin, they both gasped then groaned. He held her against him as her lips traced destructive paths over his heaving chest. He retaliated by nibbling along her shoulders. She shuddered against him when his lips touched the soft skin where her neck curved. The unconscious move felt so good against his aching body, he did it again.
“Not fair, Cheveyo.” However, she arched her neck giving him further access, putting her husky complaint at odds with her silent commands.
He simply chuckled and this time drew the delicate skin between his lips, marking her. One last lick and he finally lifted his head.
Her hunger and voracious need stared back, a mirror to his firestorm clawing for freedom. “My turn.”
Following her husky command, he rolled onto his back, giving her room to play. With one hand wrapped in her hair, he narrowed his eyes as he watched her taste him.
She held his gaze, looking at him through the screen of her heavy lashes. Her tongue darted out to circle one nipple, eliciting a hiss. A wicked smile curved her lips. “I missed your taste, and this.” It was his only warning. Her clever, devious hand slipped down his body leaving a devastating hunger behind. Then she wrapped one searing palm around his straining dick.
His breath escaped on a low, rumbling moan as he widened his legs, encouraging her play. “Tease,” he choked out.
But he wasn’t about to let her have all the fun. Untangling his hand, he slipped his hands under the silky curtain of hair, and starting at her shoulders, slowly swept his palms down her back, following the delicate bumps of her spine.
The grip on his dick tightened, glided up, and unable to resist, his hips followed. Yet it wasn’t enough to deter his own exploration. He continued his caress over her hips, brushing his fingers over the delicate crease between her hips and where he soon planned to spend an inordinate amount of time exploring.
Her breath stuttered, and, in retaliation, she began to stroke him, her pace slow and steady, a sensual torment designed to keep him on edge.
Not to be outdone, he matched her pace. Mindful of her nearly healed wound, he carefully dragged his hands up her ribs, drawing soft tantalizing strokes along the underside of her beautiful breasts.
She arched into his touch with a whimpered, “Now who’s the tease?”
His chuckle was filled with dark promises, but he didn’t alter his tormenting sweep. “I’ll get there, promise.”
His gaze centered on her lush curves. He captured her breasts in both hands, holding them captive for his enjoyment. Then he proceeded to lick and lave until her gasps and moans filled the air. Her grip faltered, then disappeared as her hands rose to clutch his shoulders as she arched closer in silent demand. He reluctantly freed one hand, wrapped his arm around her waist and reversed their positions.
When he had her sprawled before him like a decadent offering, he ran his tongue over her curves, delicately circling her nipples until they were rigid points. Only then did he draw her deep into his mouth. The bite of her nails against his shoulders was lost in the pleasure as her legs shifted restlessly, then widened. Feeling her, warm and wet, left him beyond words, his dick throbbing in demand. Still, he continued to torment them both, driving their desire to impossible heights.
She fought to get closer, broken pleas falling from her. Her leg lifted and curled around his hip, attempting to capture him, but he had other ideas.
Memories rose, tangling with the now and left his mouth watering. Not about to deny himself the pleasure of her taste, he finally moved from her beautiful breasts and began a devastating path toward his ultimate goal. As he inched down, his hands swept over her thighs, and when he reached his intended destination, he nudged her legs further apart, making room for his shoulders and settling in.
She stared down at him, shudders wracking her body, need and love adding a luminous light to her dark gaze.
He blew a single breath over her damp mound.
A soft broken moan escaped. Her eyelids fluttered, her hips undulated under his phantom touch. Her hands kneaded his skull, the tugs leaving tiny stings in their wake. She managed to lift her lashes and plead, “Cheveyo, please.”
“Please what, awéé?” His question was closer to a growl as the scent of her drifted to him, the temptation to gorge difficult to ignore, but he managed. Barely. He tortured them both by swiping his tongue through her dampness. Her shuddering moan fell, echoing his, as spiced sugar exploded against his tongue. Unable to resist, he did it again.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please, oh gods, Cheveyo, don’t stop.”
Obeying her passionate demand, he dipped his head and gave into his cravings. He licked and sucked, drawing her taste deep even as her moans turned to needy whimpers. He lost himself in her, her cries ringing in his ears. Only when she exploded around his tongue, did he press one last soft kiss to the inside of each thigh before lifting his head.
His heart clenched at the sight that met his eyes. The stunning beauty spread before him was his, and his alone. The enormity of her gift, the knowledge of how precious her heart truly was, humbled him and left his voice hoarse. “You are so beautiful, Tala.”
Color rode under her skin, and her sensual satisfaction was mirrored in her glowing gaze. “So are you.” Her fingers slid free from his hair and drifted over his face, tracing delicate lines along his jaw. “Come here.”
Not needing any more urging he inched his way up. Desire kept a ruthless grip on his body, the ache for her touch barely soothed by the feel of her skin sliding over his. When she cupped his face and captured his mouth with hers, he sank into her.
She took her time, turning her kiss into a deliberate, sensual claiming. When she pulled back and pressed her hands against his chest in silent demand, he rolled to his back, his hands digging into her hips, dragging her close.
She rose above him, her hair tumbling over them both, the brush of silk strands an added caress. After nabbing a condom from the nightstand, she reclaimed his dick, her hand wrapping around him, stroking once, then twice, before she covered him. Only then did she slowly, inch by unbearable inch, sink over him. The feel of her, the heat, the tightness, the sense of completion, arched his spine, his head pressing into the pillow, every muscle strung tight. “Oh gods, yes, Tala.” In a low groan, his voice squeezed out between clenched teeth as white starbursts exploded behind his closed eyes.
When she shifted to slide up, his hands caught her hips, dragging her down, hard. This time their moans sounded in unison. He forced his eyes open, needing to see her, to know this was no dream. His heart clenched, fractured, then reformed at the vision before him.
Tala straddled him, her head thrown back, her spine bowed, her hair flowing, the silken strands soft whips of sensation against his skin, her hands braced on his thighs, the bite of her nails a beautiful pain. Her chest rose and fell as she fought for breath, her breasts an irresistible temptation.
He bent his knees, providing a backrest for her as his hands slipped up over her ribs to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed over her distended tips, and her hands covered his, holding him close. With a flex of his stomach, he curled up, slipping one hand free to cup the back of her head and bring her mouth to his. He ravaged her mouth as the shift in their position sent him deeper.
Her hands went to his shoulders, his went to her waist, then he dropped his knees and turned until his legs fell over the side of the bed. He held her steady as she found her balance astride him. With one last nip, he released her mouth. Their gazes met and held as she began to ride him in earnest.
White-hot fire seared through every nerve ending. The feel of her rising and falling, clutching him tight in the most intimate of embraces, it all collapsed into an inferno, leaving sensual devastation in its wake. The storm gathered strength, overtaking them both. His cries blended with hers as a brilliant soul-searing explosion swept through both of them.
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Chapter Twenty-Five
A couple hours and one very enjoyable shower later, Cheveyo stood at the stove, monitoring the bacon, phone pressed to his ear as Chay read him the riot act. “Are you even listening to me, Cheveyo?”
“Nope,” he replied, as he dropped the bacon on to a paper towel covered plate. “Just waiting for you to finish.”
“Fine,” Chay snapped. “I’m finished.”
“Good. So tell me what you found.” He turned and brought the bacon filled plate over to the table where Tala sipped her coffee. She snagged a piece and nibbled, her brow arched. He rolled his eyes in response.
Chay didn’t waste time. “Definitely a mirror spell, but there wasn’t much left to trace. What was there, Wyatt and I both agreed, felt like witch, not wizard.”
“Did you get enough to be able to identify the castor if you run into them again?” Heading back to the kitchen, he tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear so he could pour a cup of coffee. Mission accomplished, he repositioned the phone and brought everything back to the table.
Chay consulted with Wyatt and came back on the line, “We think so.”
“Good. Then I need you and Wyatt to hurry the hell up and get back here.” He checked the wall clock, it was closing in on eight. “Work fast, I want to match the two spells before ten.”
“What the hell is going on at ten?” Chay grumbled.
“We’re going to start making house calls.” He shoveled some eggs on his fork and took a bite.
“We’re heading out now.” Chay paused, before warning in a low voice, “Cheveyo, swear to the gods above and below, if you try tracking that damn spell before we get back, I’m going—”
Cheveyo set his fork down, Chay’s reprimand sending ripples of irritation through his good mood. “You’re going to what, Chay?” There was no missing the icy bite in his question.
“Tattle to Raine,” Chay finished.
The unexpected response startled a laugh and soothed his emerging temper. “You do that, and I’ll bet I’m not the only one who ends up in her crosshairs.”
“You’re a mean bastard.”
“Don’t you forget it.” Cheveyo hung up, shaking his head. He set the phone on the table and dug into his breakfast.
“Whose crosshairs?”
Despite her attempt to keep her question casual, Cheveyo didn’t miss the sting of heat. “Raine’s.”
Tala frowned before taking another sip from her mug, keeping it cradled between her hands. “That damn bond you two share.” She met his gaze, hers full of feminine possession. “What possessed you to connect the two of you?”
He stifled a sigh and chased his last bite of his breakfast with coffee. Funny, he expected this question sooner. Once he may have considered not answering, but now, with all the changes between them, he had no inclination to dodge it. Best to stick with their no-more-secrets agreement.
He sat back in his chair, legs sprawled, one hand idling playing with his coffee mug. “How much do you know about Raine?”
She shrugged. “Until she showed up with you last year, not much. Rumors abound, but I’ve never been certain how much stock they carry.” She used her fork to move some eggs around her plate before looking back up. “Based on what I saw, I get she’s dangerous.”
He couldn’t stop the wry twist of his lips if he tried. “Yeah, in that aspect, you two are like peas in a pod.” When Tala’s expression shifted to affronted dignity, he did laugh. “Raine’s not much fonder of my comparisons either.”
She shot him a narrow eyed glare. “Gee, I wonder why.”
He shook his head. Tala and Raine were more alike than they believed, each an intriguing combination of formidable warrior and challenging female. Women who tolerated little and expected much. Such women were rare finds, and once a man was lucky enough to find one, he moved heaven and earth to keep her. Which is why Tala held his heart, and Raine held Gavin’s.
“I won’t share her entire story, just the basics.” Because some details weren’t his to share, nor was he totally certain of their veracity. “She was kidnapped as a teen and used for experimentation by a human scientist. The experiments killed her mother, but changed Raine at a fundamental level.”
Pity moved in Tala’s gaze. “Changed how?”
“No one was really sure. It took her a long time to get through what happened. About a year and a half ago, Mulcahy asked if I could step in and mentor her.” He didn’t miss Tala’s wince, which held equal parts sympathy and jealousy, as she was intimately aware of why he would be called in to serve such a position. “I agreed.”
She searched his face, her question soft, “Why?”
There were more layers to her simple question, and despite their recently renewed commitment, he didn’t mind soothing them. Some hurts took longer to heal than others. “Because Raine needed a chance to see what she could do before she hurt herself or those around her.” Much like a powerful, younger Tala, Raine’s attempts to master her abilities were similar to riding lightning—buck-naked.
“If he was so concerned, why didn’t he mentor her?” Skepticism danced along her question as she broke off a piece of bacon and passed it off to Ash who was curled under the table for just such an opportunity.
“Two reasons,” Cheveyo carefully kept his voice bland. “First, she was his niece and to describe their relationship as ‘difficult’ was putting it mildly.” At that revelation, Tala blinked but held her tongue, so he continued and braced for the fallout. “Second, in order to save her life, I used a bastardized version of the Naakishchíín spell.”
She stiffened, her face paling before she got out, “Why that spell?”
He couldn’t fault her shock. The magic needed for that particular spell was ancient. In fact, the initial Naakishchíín spell allowed two people to share the same life force, draw on each other’s strengths and weaknesses creating powerful twins. It also meant if one died, so did the other.
When he was trying to save Raine, he hadn’t the luxury of picking and choosing a way to keep her from death’s grasp. Normally he wouldn’t explain his reasoning, but this was Tala.
He continued, “Raine went up against a half-demon with gypsy blood. She triggered a nasty spell, one that tied them together through death.”
Tala frowned. “So the death of one, meant death for the other.”
“Right, which meant there was no way to break it.”
Comprehension crept in. “You had to counter it with a spell that worked in similar fashion.”
He nodded. “I was running against the clock and didn’t have much to work with. So I altered a known spell, made a few unique adjustments, and kept Raine breathing.”
“Great, you kept her breathing. But now? How tight is this tie?”
Seeing the rising concern behind her question, he was quick to clarify, “Tight, but not at such an intimate level as required by the Naakishchíín spell. We can assist each other in times of need by drawing on each other’s abilities, but, thanks to the thick psychic barrier anchored on both sides, we keep our individuality and privacy.”
His explanation didn’t appear to ease the worry darkening her gaze. “For anyone to have that kind of access to you or your magic, especially an unknown, that’s worrisome, Cheveyo.”
He couldn’t deny her concern, but… “It’s what ultimately saved my life with the Soul Stealer, Tala.”
“No, I was there, Cheveyo,” Tala argued. “I channeled the Ancestors to help with your healing. Granted Raine’s ability to see your magic, like a piece of ripped cloth, allowed the two of us to weave it back together. She told me that your bond was messing with the healing.”
He held his silence and watched her reconsider the events of a year ago.
Finally, she said, “What am I missing?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” If he gave Tala the truth, not only would it give her a dangerous insight into who and what the Northwest was protecting, but it was a crucial key in the upcomin
g battle with the Council.
She cocked her head to the side. “Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“It’s not a question of wanting to tell you. It’s a question of how far are you willing to go to protect me.”
Her answer was quick and rock solid. “As far as you’re willing to go to protect me.”
“This could pit you against the Council.” He had to try and give her every opportunity to walk away. It was only fair.
She held his gaze. “And?” She studied his face, no doubt catching his worry. “I’m right here, bił hinishná-anii, and I told you before, I have no plans on going anywhere.”
He believed her, but it didn’t lessen the tension twisting his muscles. It wasn’t just his life he was handing her, it was Raine and Gavin’s. And ultimately every Kyn born in the last fifty years.
“Cheveyo.” She waited until she had his attention. “I give you my word, I will not betray you with what you are considering sharing.”
The weight of her promise hummed between them. He couldn’t stop his retort. “You’re making a vow about something you don’t even understand.”
She got out of her chair and made her way around the table. When she got to him, he shifted his chair so she could stand in front of him. She caught his face between her palms, bent down, and gave him the sweetest kiss. When she lifted her head, he couldn’t avoid her gaze. Sincerity and love stared back. Her voice was soft, but rang with conviction, “I’m making a vow to you, the man who holds my heart and shelters my soul. I won’t betray you.”
The untarnished beauty of her gift humbled him. Unable to resist, he gently pulled her into his lap, sheltering her against his heart. “I love you, Tala Whiteriver, beyond all comprehension, I love you.”
She curled into him and pressed a soft kiss to the base of his throat. “Same goes, warrior man.” She lifted her head and faced him. “Now spill.”
