“That’s easy enough to say.”
“Nay, you can do this, Chloe. Do not awaken the fear. Imagine, if you will, you can throw daggers with a stare. Will the injury upon them.”
What he claimed sounded fantastic. But in his words, Chloe recognized the truth behind her protection spell. As the spiritual leaders she’d consulted had advised, faith brought the vastest power. If one did not believe in the words spoken, no ward would keep the demons away.
As she had taught herself to do years earlier, Chloe released her doubts and embraced the possibility. She watched the eyes drift closer and clump together as they gathered at the forest’s edge. Shadows emerged from the trees, near enough she could recognize the varying shades of color, but distant enough she couldn’t make out true forms.
Close enough, for this first night of new approaches.
Drawing in a deep breath, she focused on the solitary pair of red-orange orbs and did as Lucan requested. Instead of daggers, however, she imagined invisible laser beams coursing across the manicured gardens and searing a hole right between the glowing portals. She almost giggled as a mental picture of Cyclops took hold.
Across the way, the reddish eyes drifted behind the others.
Chloe leaned forward, unable to believe what she’d witnessed. Surely she was seeing things. This was too easy.
“Do you believe me now?” Lucan asked, a touch of arrogance in his voice.
Unconvinced the retreat wasn’t just a product of circumstance, Chloe tried again, this time on a pair of yellow-greens that led the pack of approaching eerie lights. Only, when she focused on her target, she skipped the imagery and merely willed the creature to fall over dead.
It didn’t. But it did scurry back into the trees.
Chloe turned in Lucan’s arms and looked up at him in wonder. “How is that possible?”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He raised a hand to tuck a straying lock of hair behind her ear. “’Tis good to know you need not rely on props and prayers, aye?”
Good? He couldn’t comprehend how liberated she felt. Eight years of searching, and this man, this stranger who had weaseled himself into her life against her will, handed her the cure on a silver platter. Priests couldn’t. Rabbis couldn’t. No religious leader she’d consulted had been able to release the curse. But Lucan had.
And in this moment, she felt more in control of her life than she had in a very long time.
She looped her arms around his neck and twisted fully around to face him. With a half step closer, she pressed her breasts against his chest. She eased to her toes, and beneath the fabric of her nightgown, her nipples pebbled as they scraped over his body. Her mouth a fraction away from his, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Lucan’s eyes clashed with hers, dark as storm clouds. She knew the look well. She’d witnessed it both nights she’d spent in this room. Desire. Raw need. For her.
Excitement thrummed all the way down to her toes. She took another shuffle-step closer and melded her hips against his at the same time she captured his mouth. He was there in an instant, greedily taking all she offered. His hands tightened at her waist, his fingertips biting in, pleasantly harsh.
Heavenly. The stroke of his tongue, the stinging nip of his teeth—everything combined into a blissful delight that pushed her to the edge of abandon. Her fingers curled into his shoulders to stop the sudden weakening of her knees, and Chloe held on, afraid if she let go she’d fall. Terrified if she continued, she’d drown in everything Lucan seemed so willing to give.
And yet nothing would steer her off this course. No fear, no relics, no cross-purposes. She wanted Lucan Seacourt, and she wouldn’t let the ghosts of her past spoil the insurmountable feeling he stirred in her veins.
Caught up in the heat that coursed through her body, she slid her hands to his waist and pushed them beneath the loose hem of his cotton shirt. Her fingertips found warm taut skin that rippled beneath her inquisitive caress. Taking a step backward, she gave herself room to explore. The hard ridges of his abdomen gave way to an even harder chest. She flattened her palms over his nipples, skimmed her hands higher to splay her fingers over wide shoulders.
Lucan groaned softly, a sound that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than approval. He closed his hands into the flimsy fabric of her gown, bunching it into his fists. But although his mouth bore fierce demand, the tenseness of his body spoke of restraint. His refusal to do away with her nightgown reinforced that suspicion.
When he abruptly terminated the kiss and distanced himself a good foot, Chloe wasn’t surprised. She caught hold of his shirt and followed his retreat.
Lucan glanced at the bed, as if he could not bring himself to look at her. “’Tis late—”
He had retreated far enough the backs of his knees confronted the coffee table. Chloe took full advantage of his thwarted escape. A slow smile spread across her face as she dipped one finger into the waistband of his jeans. “There are several hours left until morning.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
His gaze snapped to hers. His eyes glittered like live coals. One thumb absently brushed against her ribs. In his unblinking stare, she read the question he wouldn’t ask. Are you certain?
She’d never been more sure. Lucan gave her strength. Offered her trust and demanded hers in return. He had crept into her heart. Coerced her into caring. Only one thing remained to distance them. Tonight, they would cross all those boundaries, and she would let him sink his teeth into her heart.
No. More. Fear.
She pressed the flat of her hand against the hard bulge of his jeans. His gaze flared white-hot as his breath caught audibly. With all the boldness she could summon, Chloe held his gaze and whispered, “I want to feel you within me.”
Lucan exhaled, a combination of rushing air and a drawn-out groan. He caught her to him, crushed her against his body. His mouth claimed hers with savage hunger, pummeling through to shatter any trace of resistance she might have experienced.
Sharing his urgency, she pulled at his shirt. Urged him to give her the distance and freedom to drag it over his head. Instead, he reached behind his neck, and as if he lacked the patience of unclothing, doffed it in one quick yank.
Her nightgown followed in the shirt’s wake. One impatient brush of his hands against her shoulders pushed the thin straps to her elbows where all she had to do was wriggle and the garment pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of it, moving back into the heavenly circle of his arms. As she pushed her hands up the broad expanse of muscle that was his chest, she brought her body into his and slid upward along the same trajectory as her hands, delighting in the electric shock of skin to skin.
He dominated her. Thick thighs enveloped hers. Strong arms bent her slightly backward so his teeth could graze her throat. He dipped her further, brought his mouth closer to her breast. A tremble shook her body as warm, moist air danced across her skin. And then his lips closed around her hardened nipple, and Chloe tottered in his embrace.
Sensing her inability to stand on her own two feet, Lucan urged her to her knees. Then backward further until the soft fibers of the rug met her skin. His kisses branded her flesh. Pulsed heat through her veins and tightened her womb. The satiny tickle of his hair as he leaned over her to suckle at her opposite breast teased. She speared her fingers through his hair, pressed his head close, and arched her back against the tug of his mouth. “Lucan,” she murmured on a shaky exhale.
A calloused hand scraped pleasantly down her ribs. Across her abdomen. Lower still to part the swollen folds of her feminine flesh. His thumb swirled across the sensitive nub there, and ecstasy shot through Chloe. She parted her thighs at the stroke of his fingers. Each caress matched the gentle tug of his mouth. Each stroke coaxed something deep within her closer to the surface. She writhed beneath him, lifted her hips into his palm. Her skin pebbled with goose bumps. Her breath came in short, hard gasps.
So close. So damnably close. She lifted up again, rubbed in
countermotion to his hand. On the precipice of ecstasy, her womb contracted hard. Another press of his thumb, another languorous stroke, and she’d find relief from the unrelenting ache.
“Lucan, please…” She dug her nails into the rug, aware she begged, but unashamed. She had come to understand so much about him, even though she’d tried to keep him at a distance, and she knew he would relish the raw honesty of her spoken need. It seemed he wanted nothing but that from her. Nothing but the complete, unhindered truth. The kind of truth that only came with the trust he unrelentingly demanded.
He lifted his head, her nipple slipping from the wet heat of his mouth. In the dim light of the television, flecks of onyx glowed within his silvery gaze. Beautiful, fathomless eyes. She could get lost in them. Had already.
His lashes fluttered, threatening to close as he pushed one thick finger into her slickened opening. She closed hers before she could discover whether he did the same and arched off the rug. He pushed deep inside her, the friction setting of a percussion of pleasure like a match set to a chain of firecrackers. One by one, the nerve endings in her body ignited, each little snap building to an intensity that pounded through her. She twisted her head to the side, clamped her thighs together. To stop him. To encourage him.
Oh God.
The next slow push of his hand brought combustion. Release burst through her in a maelstrom of feeling. Tiny starbursts of light erupted behind her eyes. Weightlessness infused her limbs. For a moment, she felt as if she floated. In the next, she tumbled slowly off the high ledge she had so feared, and found herself sheltered in his protective embrace. His body blanketed hers, bringing her tenderly back to earth. His strong arms held her tightly.
“Chloe,” he murmured as he cupped her face between his hands. The stroke of his thumbs demanded she open her eyes to look at him. When she did, his expression radiated tenderness moments before his lashes lowered and he gently took her mouth with his.
She twisted her head, terminating the kiss. “More, Lucan,” she whispered. “I want more of you.” And God help her, she knew in that moment, she would never get enough.
On a hoarse groan, he reached between their bodies, and released the buttons on his jeans.
CHAPTER 31
The flutter of Chloe’s hands alongside his as she helped free him from the confines of his jeans electrified Lucan’s skin. He was aware of her in ways he had never been aware of any woman. The scent of her arousal, the rasp of her breath, damnation, the brush of her hair against his elbow stirred some deeply foreign craving that only she could fulfill.
Cool air washed across his buttocks. A shake of his ankle removed the last of the denim. He was bare, and she lay stretched out on the floor beneath him. Ready. Willing. Waiting.
He ought to pick her up and take her to the bed. She deserved more than the hard floor and rug burn. And yet, naught would make his body obey. The need to be inside her, and quickly, beat through his veins like long-ago drums of war.
Kneeling between her legs, he bent his head to draw one rosy, taut nipple back into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around the hardened bud. Soft fingertips glided over his shoulders, and a quiet sigh of contentment slipped off her lips. Her hips lifted, grazing his, inviting him to descend and slide into her waiting warmth. He resisted. This was not about desire. Nay. Though the light in her eyes revealed she had surrendered her objections, he wanted more. Must have more.
Tonight he could not settle for simple pleasure, though ’twould be so damnably easy to do. He must elicit her complete, unyielding trust. For come morn, he would need it when he confided her status as a seraph.
And in truth, he ached for Chloe in ways he could not describe. Ways that went far deeper than the joining of flesh and the spilling of his seed. He could not abide this distance that spanned between them during the waking hours, and he would accept no more of it. Tonight, she would yield. As he yielded to her.
He released her breast and dusted kisses down the straight-line center of her body, to her navel. Her hands followed the contours of his arms, over his shoulders, along his biceps, down his forearms until her fingers lay atop his. He eased his weight to his elbows and took her hands. Contact. As much as possible. Saints’ blood, aye.
Then he dropped his mouth on her warm, wet flesh. Her gasp tore through him like lightning, and she bucked up off the floor. His body answered, his cock stiffening further, though he had not believed such could be possible. He glanced up to look on her delicate face and nearly unraveled. Sweet sacred Mary, she was a fantasy come to life. Long auburn hair spilled on the white rug, a halo touched by fire. Rapture softened features that were already soft and inviting. Full pink lips swelled beneath the sharp press of her teeth.
He disentangled his hands, determined to hear the cry she sought to silence, and gripped her hips, lifting her up into his mouth. Lapping at her sensitive feminine nub, he savored her sweet flavor. Reveled in her musky scent. She undulated in time with the steady, slow caress of his tongue.
“Oh, Lucan, that feels … good…” She exhaled unsteadily. “So good.”
When her hands settled into his hair, Lucan sucked the sweet bud into his mouth. She keened as her nails scraped against his scalp. His pride swelled. He had broken through that barrier of restraint. Pulled from her a soul-deep sound that he knew she did not wish to give, but could not help herself. A precious, timeless cry he would carry in his memory for as long as he walked the earth.
As her flesh pulsed against his mouth, he withdrew from her intoxicating warmth and lifted his head, waiting for her to open her eyes and look at him. When she did, a question loomed on her face. But beyond the outward curiosity, something richer gleamed. Those dilated pupils held nothing back. He saw clear through to her heart, and what he found there, tightened his own to painful limits. Acceptance. Affection.
So deep was his reaction to the profound discovery, his lungs ceased to function for a frightening drum of several heavy heartbeats. But as she raised her hips to his and her moist flesh rubbed against the swollen head of his cock, his senses slammed back into him.
She pulled at his biceps, urging his body down to hers. “Make love to me, Lucan. Make me yours.”
“Aye, my sweet.” He took his hard shaft in his hand, aligned it with her slick opening. “From tonight forward, hold naught back from me, Chloe. Give me your word on this.” His body trembled as he awaited her response.
A moment of fear passed across her face. She struggled for a tenacious smile, hesitatingly nodded her head. Her flesh clamped around the tip of his erection, begging him to embed himself inside her. Still, he resisted. He would have her words.
To elicit them, he would give her his. He held her gaze steady and willed her to believe in his sincerity. “I give to you my eternal loyalty.”
Were they in different places, under different circumstances, he would have bent on one knee and pledged the words with the offering of his sword. But ’twas out of reach, and the gesture entirely unsuitable to the deeper intimacy flowing between them. Words would have to suffice. He only hoped she could understand the imperishable meaning. For in the utterance, he stood in service to her. He would be judged as she was, her safety his only responsibility. Even the oaths of brotherhood and the immortal Code came second unto her, and her alone.
Beneath him, Chloe shuddered. Tears pricked her eyes, adding a brighter sparkle to their already mesmerizing shine. “I’ll fall in love with you.”
Her whisper did not hold as much fear as it did promise. The tension fled his body, and with a low groan, Lucan pushed himself inside her warm sheath. God’s teeth, she fit so perfectly around him. Each grip and squeeze of her flesh drew him deeper. Brought him into the depths of her body until he touched the mouth of her womb and staggered under the waves of ecstasy that crashed over him. No more divine haven existed. He could stay here a lifetime. Where her heat enveloped him and the steady thrum of her heart pulsed around him. Where he felt her unlike he had ever felt another.
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br /> Lowering his body onto hers, he hovered over her mouth. “I want you to, my sweet.”
Before she could either agree or protest, he drew her into a hard kiss. Need surpassed all thoughts of gentleness. He had waited too long. Held back until his body refused to listen to another willful command. He knew he should give her a moment to recover, that as a virgin would need time to accommodate his body, her shy mind needed time to accept what had just passed between them. But damnation, he could not stop his hips from retreating and dragging his swollen cock through her tight, wet flesh.
He yielded to the timeless rhythm of lovers. With a hard thrust, he sank back into her. Buried himself to the hilt. “Ah, Chloe, you are more heavenly than I had imagined,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth.
She turned her head to draw in a great gulp of air and lifted her hips. He sank deeper. Release clenched a tight fist around his chest, making it impossible to draw in a normal breath. Sweat broke over his body. His cock pulsed. His mind reeled. He pulled back, intending to give them both a moment. Yet her body clung to his, rising and lifting, chasing after pleasure that boiled just beneath the surface.
On a hoarse groan, Lucan gave up all attempts at restraint. He slammed into her, jarring her into the floor. She cried out, but as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, he realized the sound had naught to do with pain. Still, he could not abide the thought that tonight would leave her with any regrets. He slid his arms behind her and cradled her shoulders in his hands to prevent her body from rubbing too harshly against the course carpet fibers. Then he let go completely.
Her body moved in time with his, a matched rhythm to the piston of his hips. Her soft cries mingled with his low, satisfied murmurs. He thrust forward, dragged himself across the sensitive nub guaranteed to ignite her. Her inner walls clamped down hard. Lucan set his jaw. He would find release with her. Not before. Not after. Perfect synchronicity to match the perfection of their melded bodies.
Immortal Trust Page 26
