by C. L. Parker
“Please, please,” he whispered as Tori knelt beside him.
Without thought, Tori pushed her fingers under the back of his shirt, just under the waist of his jeans, finding his mark. She closed her eyes to the jolt of energy that radiated out of her fingertips and into his mark, lending him her gift as well. It was her fault that little girl was fighting for her life, not fate’s. The damage could be reversed, the wrong righted.
Even among the hustle and bustle of the streets of London, the whispering of the onlookers who had gathered around, and the sound of rescue vehicle sirens arriving at the scene, Sianna’s gasp for air and then choking cough could be heard.
“Mummy!” she cried between forced coughs.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Dante smiled down at Sianna. “Hello there, little one. Naughty of you to give us a fright like that.”
“Mummy’s here, darling. Mummy’s right here.” Sianna’s mother rushed over, ready to grab her up, but Dante stopped her.
“Best not to move her until she’s been checked over properly.”
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” the woman chanted as she wrapped her arms around Dante’s neck and hugged him tight. “How can I ever repay you for saving my Sianna’s life?”
Dante chuckled. “No need to thank me, madam. I’m just glad I could be of some help.”
“A guardian angel, that’s what you are,” she said, kissing his cheek before turning her attention to her daughter.
Dante turned and smiled at Tori. “If she only knew,” he said with a wink.
Dominic helped Tori up, and then Dante, clapping him on the back with a, “Well done, son,” then he was off to help clear the crowd for the paramedics.
Dante sighed in relief and pulled Tori into his arms. “How did you know to do that, Angel?”
Tori shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. You’re the hero here, Dante Dickens. Bask in it.”
“Yes, you did. I felt it.”
“You could’ve done it on your own. I just gave you a little added boost. It was the least I could do since I’m the one who caused all this.”
Dante cupped her face in his hands. “This was not your fault.”
Tori looked back at the little girl, her mother smothering her in kisses and telling her how much she loved her. “Yes, it was, but she’s alive, thanks to you. That’s all that matters.”
Kerrigan sat on the window seat in the bedroom she and Dominic had called their own since their arrival in London. As she looked out over the garden bathed in moonlight, her mind couldn’t help but conjure up images of her sanctuary. She missed it, and it made her heart ache, not to mention her head. Every time she willed the memory of her special place to the forefront of her mind, a dull pain pulsed through her temples. She had been having them intermittently since she lost her gift of the Light, but lately they had become worse and more frequent. Sometimes the visions came of their own accord, residual memories like snapshots from a camera stacked and then thumbed slowly to set it in motion. But they only lasted a few brief seconds before they disappeared, leaving her to yearn for what she could never have again.
Dominic came into the room, fresh out of the shower, and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He gently ran his knuckles up and down her arm, making Kerrigan turn to him with a forced smile.
“What’s wrong, Querida?”
Her shoulder raised and she shook her head. “Nothing. I just have a headache.”
She looked at him, completely mesmerized by his eyes. Every single detail about her husband screamed drop-dead gorgeous. He still looked the same as the day she had first met him, an attribute of his bloodline. How many women could say they slept in the arms of an angel every night? Kerrigan could.
Her eyes swept over his strong jaw to his neck where his tribal tattoo began and ended at his elbow. Like Dominic, it hadn’t faded with time at all. She was somewhat envious of that. Had she not lost her gift, she’d look just as timeless. The mark on his other shoulder was still there, and it still looked identical to her birthmark. They were the evidence that they had been touched by the Light, identical because they were soul mates. The joining of their marks had once allowed her to take Dominic into her sanctuary, but only once. She hadn’t been able to do the same since that first time. She couldn’t even take herself there.
“Querida?” Dominic’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts. “Did you hear me? I asked if you’ve taken anything for the headache.” He cupped her cheek, and she smiled before turning into his palm and placing a kiss to the center.
“Guardians shouldn’t have to take medicine, you know.” She heard how pathetic her own voice sounded, but it was hard to keep up pretenses with the one person who knew her better than anyone else ever could or would. “They never get sick.”
“You haven’t ever been sick,” he reminded her.
“Where’s Tori?” She had seen her the night before at dinner, but things had been tense. They always were between the two of them. Kerrigan had no idea why. Maybe she pushed Tori hard, but it was for her own good. She had to be ready for whatever came her way.
“She’s training with Dante, but nice try.” Dominic leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before standing.
“What?”
“Your attempt to change the subject. I’m going to get dressed and then find you something for your headache.”
Kerrigan took his hand to stop him from leaving. She looked at him, letting her eyes drink in his very masculine form appreciatively. “You’re the only medicine I need.” She pulled him back to her and tugged at the tuck of the towel until it fell to the floor.
Dominic looked down at himself and then back up at Kerrigan with that sexy smirk. Her hand moved over the perfect swell of his toned backside as her tongue swept her bottom lip and her eyes roamed over his chiseled chest and abdomen to his cock. Just as she dipped her head to take him into her mouth, Dominic put his finger under Kerrigan’s chin and lifted her face to look at him. Irises the shade of flawless emeralds stared back, her knees instantly weak from the intense seduction that had always arced between them when he looked into her eyes. Dominic Grayson: her lover, her husband, the father of her child, the only man who had ever or would ever make her feel complete. He was her only weakness.
“If you’re trying to distract me, you’re doing a damn good job of it. Stop being so stubborn, Querida. There’s no shame in taking medication. People do it every day.”
He leaned over and kissed her lips before pulling away and walking across the room sans towel to grab his pants. Buttonfly Levi’s. Commando. Some things never changed. Inked skin moved like it had come to life over muscles that flexed with each minute movement. Still just as strong as ever. Still just as picture perfect with hardly any sign of aging.
How was it possible that after twenty years together she wanted him more with each passing day?
“I’ll be right back.”
She knew he would. Dominic had defied the odds stacked against them on multiple occasions and had always found his way back to her—just as he had promised.
Once he left, Kerrigan went over to the antique vanity dresser and picked up the brush to run it through her long hair. On the third stroke, pain shot from the left side of her head to the right with lightning quickness. It ricocheted back and forth like a tiny silver orb in a pinball machine. The hairbrush fell with a crash onto the vanity, and she squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling a sharp breath between clenched teeth as she grabbed her head with both hands and bowed over. It throbbed, pulsing with a sharp spike at the crescendo of each beat. She had become so numb she could scarcely feel the tears streaming down her cheeks. A bright white light exploded like a starburst behind her lids and the pain intensified with a ringing in her ears. Just when she was convinced her head was literally going to explode—either that or she was going to rip the damn thing off herself to stop the pain—the headache was gone.
Kerrigan held onto the vanity, taking a moment to catch her brea
th, and then she heard the faint hum of This Little Light of Mine coming from behind her. She whipped her head around, finding nothing and no one.
“Grammy? Grammy, are you there?”
The room was still, quiet. Kerrigan laughed sarcastically at herself. Of course she wasn’t there. It was the headache. The pain was so intense this time that it was making her hear things.
Kerrigan turned back around to the vanity and picked up the hairbrush. When she looked up at the mirror, she nearly fell off the bench. Her eyes . . . they glowed . . . just like they had once upon a time when the Light had still been with her. A feeling of serenity washed over her, and she smiled. Could it be? Was it possible?
She leaned forward for closer inspection, but when she blinked, the Light was gone. Her shoulders sagged and she silently chastised herself for daring to hope that the Light had decided to make a comeback. It was gone.
Closing her eyes, she whispered softly to the empty room. “Please. Just . . . please.”
Kerrigan cleared her mind and took a deep breath in, letting it expel slowly through her parted lips. Her thoughts focused on that central point, her mind’s eye, and she allowed that part of her that had been severely neglected for many years to take control. As if they had never left, her Guardian senses took hold, pushing and at times even dragging her conscious mind through blank space—an action that had taken merely a flicker of thought in the past to accomplish the goal. And then there was light at the end of the dark tunnel. Kerrigan could feel the warmth of the sunshine, smell the perfume of flowers in bloom, and hear the rustling of leaves as their branches swayed in the breeze. Her sanctuary, her nirvana, it was just within reach. Her heart beat like a bass drum in her chest and her skin came alive with the flow of energy that surged once again through her veins. She was almost there. She was . . . almost . . .
The darkness fell away and Kerrigan found herself standing on plush grass while looking up at a sky the color of a baby boy’s soft blanket. A single tear trickled down her cheek even as a feeling of rejuvenation swaddled her essence in all that was the Light.
Kerrigan laughed as she spun around with her arms spread wide, welcoming the gift. It wasn’t until that moment that she truly realized how much a part of her the Light had been, how it had made her whole.
Home. She was finally home again.
“That feels unbelievably euphoric.” Dante’s moans filled the mound as Tori’s hands kneaded the flesh and muscle of his back and shoulders.
The massage had been her idea. So had his half-dressed state. Her half-dressed state had been all Dante’s doing.
After the disaster the day before when Tori had almost sent an innocent child to an early death, she had vowed never to leave his side again, even if that meant hurting her parents’ feelings. Nothing good ever came from leaving him, and now that her nightmares were taking on a life of their own, she couldn’t chance it. Innocent lives were at stake, and it was her job to protect them. Yes, Dominic had told her she could choose not to accept the responsibility, and it would have been the easiest thing to do, but the responsibility had been laid at her feet and she couldn’t just turn her back on it. Not after what happened yesterday. At the same time, she knew she couldn’t do it alone.
Sharing her Light with Dante yesterday made her want to bond with him fully, to truly join together as one. It all made sense to her now—their marks, their partnership—he wasn’t just the Guardian of the Guardian, he was the part of her that was missing. As proof, his mark was the other half of hers, and only together were they whole.
But she wanted to feel him, on the inside and out, a physical connection to sate her yearning for more. More touch, more skin, more of everything. Dante was the only one who could give it to her.
Tori leaned forward and kissed the sensitive skin on the back of his neck. Dante purred—not like a kitten in a windowsill, more like a full-grown, king of the jungle lion basking in the sun after a particularly awesome kill. That sound shot straight to her core and she rolled her hips, searching for relief of the friction she craved. Too many layers of clothing were in the way, hers and his.
More. She needed more. And to get more, she had to be closer.
“Careful,” Dante warned as if reading her mind. “You’re testing the limits of what little bit of control I have left around you with all your teasing.”
Tori pressed her front to his back, sighing at the instant gratification skin to skin contact provided. The swarming of their individual Light energy converging together to spread throughout both their bodies was unmistakable and impossible to counterfeit.
“You know damn well I’m not teasing, Dante.” She ran her hands down his sides to his hips. Her hair spilled over his back as she kissed along his shoulder. “I want more. I want you.”
In a heartbeat, Dante had Tori on her back under him. Evidence of his wavering control flickered in the Light of his baby blues. “Best not to say stuff like that unless you mean it. I’m a gentleman, but I’ve wanted to be inside you for so long now that I just might forget my manners in light of so much temptation.”
His resolve was cracking. Dante wanted Tori nearly as much as she wanted him. She had always known that, but somehow he had managed to resist all the green lights she had been giving him as of late. But now . . . Now, did he also feel the need for more? Was it possible he had been holding back just because she was a virgin, choosing instead to wait for her to make the first move?
Tori wet her lips and Dante watched the motion. He wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn’t. He was waiting for her. Watching him, Tori inclined her head, slowly closing the gap until her lips met his full mouth. He remained motionless, his rock hard body straining to maintain control. And then Tori began to move her mouth back and forth over his, her tongue barely skimming his bottom lip—testing, asking for more.
More, more, more. Please, more.
That one brave step toward taking initiative—a kiss, simplistic yet fevered—was the turning point in their physical relationship. There was no going back, not that either of them wanted to. Dante parted his lips, accepting her offering and deepened the kiss with a single groan of resistance pushing its way into Tori’s mouth.
He was still fighting the urge to take her offering, and that would never do.
Unwilling to let him back down, Tori gently sucked on his tongue. It was a distraction to keep his mind off the fact that she was working the button and zipper of her pants and pushing them over her hips. It worked. Once she had kicked them off her legs and onto the floor, Dante broke the kiss and looked down at her naked body.
He swallowed hard as he lifted his hand to let it hover over her breasts, dipping to the contours of her body as he moved lower still. Although he didn’t touch her, Tori could feel the searing heat from his palm. The Light they both shared, pulling like magnets that yearned to be united.
“Oh, Angel . . . you have no idea . . .” A pregnant pause hung in the air. “If it’s more you want, then who am I to deny you?”
Tori rubbed her thighs together, writhing under his watchful gaze while anticipating his touch where she needed to feel it most.
Yes, more. Give me more.
Sinful intent flashed in his eyes as his irises turned a stunning blue framed by thick lashes of the deepest onyx. A devastating smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he lifted his hand to show her the glow he had conjured and pushed to his fingertips. Tori nearly whimpered when she realized how he intended to use those fingers.
“I’ve never tried this before, so I don’t know the effect it will have, but I’m betting it will definitely be more.”
He put his palm to the inside of her knee and a delicious vibration danced along her inner thigh to lick at her center. Tori inhaled a sharp breath and held it, white hot energy moving closer and closer under Dante’s manipulation. She did whimper then.
He leaned forward, tonguing her earlobe before sampling it with a sensual bite. It was yet another sensation that seemed nearly un
bearable given her heightened senses. Tori moaned shamelessly.
“More?” Dante asked, as if he really needed to.
Tori nodded. “Oh, God. Yes. More . . .”
“I thought so. Let’s see what this does then.”
That was all the warning Dante gave before he lifted his hand and cupped her fully, sheathing first one and then two fingers inside her with two quick strokes. At least she thought it was two; it had all happened so fast and things inside her body were reacting with the power of a nuclear reactor.
Tori cried out as a blinding orgasm ripped through her body, shredding her nerve endings with each explosive pulse of pleasure. Dante yanked his hand back and pulled her against his chest.
“Shit! Are you okay?” he asked while stroking her hair. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, unable to speak as she struggled to catch her breath. “Just . . . intense.”
That was definitely more, but still not enough. She wanted him. Inside of her.
More. More!
Tori pressed her body to his, obsessed with getting closer. Her lips latched on to his shoulder and she lavished him with heated kisses, pouring all the fervor of her need into each lick, nip, and suck.
She rolled him ever so slightly for a better angle and then kissed his neck, tasting the salty manliness of his skin as she rubbed against him. Her hand slinked between their bodies and she palmed his erection, massaging him through his jeans.
Dante wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stopping her. “I suggest you don’t test my resolve because I will fail to control myself.”
Tori tugged against his loose hold, sucking at the skin of his neck without answering. His head fell back to give her better access, and even though he didn’t grab for her wrist again, he kept his hand in place as if preparing to at any moment. Allowing himself a sample of the pleasure she was offering, he pressed his hips forward and groaned. Placing his hand over top of hers until their fingers were laced, they worked together to stroke him fully.
