Prince of Stone (Imperia)

by Gena Showalter

  A future high priest must be properly groomed in all facets of life. His tutor’s stern voice resonated inside his head.

  A voice that still caused him to shudder with horror.

  While Percen had suffered at the hands of the Druinn, Jorlan had flourished at court. He’d led a charmed life, pampered by their father and all of his servants, coddled by their mother, and revered by males and females alike. Until the curse, Jorlan had known nothing about pain and suffering. Nothing! He’d known nothing of the desperate need to love and be loved in return.

  But I am teaching him, Percen thought, his smile widening.

  His brother rounded another corner, returning to the three mortal women, who waited on the porch. A frown-scowl combo marred the perfect warrior’s perfect face.

  Which of the three women had kissed the statue? Percen would begin the second part of Jorlan’s punishment with her.

  He eyed the youngest one; his gaze had been continually drawn to her. With glorious red hair, big brown eyes, and flawless pale skin, she was beyond beautiful, like a painting come to life. The next woman was old enough to be Jorlan’s mother, but faintly resembled the redhead. The last female was too tall and plain.

  Percen meant to study each one more closely, to gauge their reactions to Jorlan and Jorlan’s reaction to them, but he couldn’t force his gaze away from the redheaded beauty. She was the kind of woman he had always longed to possess. To hold. To love. To cherish.

  He balled his hands into fists. Her kind never desired him in return.

  Even still, need churned inside him, hot and driving. He watched her smooth a tendril of hair from her brow, and his blood blazed. His body hardened. Though her every move was like living passion, there was something almost vulnerable about her. Something sad. Something that pulled at his deepest yearnings.

  As if she could sense his scrutiny, she glanced around, up, down. Then she pivoted slightly and met his gaze. Blue to brown, desire to confusion. For a moment, he forgot his reason for being there.

  Did she see him?

  Longing devoured him, and he nearly dropped to his knees. She held his stare and even gifted him with a smile.

  He sucked in a breath. She did. She saw him. Then she shifted, her shoulders sagging, her smile fading.

  He’d been mistaken. She did not see him.

  Had his brother planted himself firmly between her thighs? Percen ground his molars. Of course his brother had tupped her. What man would ignore such loveliness? Not Jorlan, a connoisseur of female flesh. Well, ’twas reason enough for Percen to have her himself.

  He tapped a finger against his chin. Just how should he go about winning this girl? His ugliness frightened…everyone. Magic, mayhap?

  Aye, he could use the same spell he’d used all his life to lure women to his bed. A spell that made others see him as the man he wanted to be, not the man he truly was.

  When the object of his fancy brushed her fingertip against Jorlan’s arm, Percen narrowed his eyes.

  The plain woman noticed the interaction, her body going rigid.

  His brother glared at her before smiling at the redhead.

  Percen flicked his tongue over an incisor. Oh, this was going to be fun.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE DAY PROGRESSED quickly for Jorlan. He worked much, talked little and remained alert, expecting some sort of attack. Only when he and Katie returned to her home was he able to relax, the sensation of being watched finally abating. Needing time alone to ponder everything that had happened, he headed for the bathing chamber.

  “Jorlan?” Katie called.

  Silent, he shut and locked the door, fiddled with the water knobs as Katie had taught him. After stripping, he stepped inside the shower stall. Warm water rained liquid heat over his naked body, but did little to ease his strain.

  The presence he had felt today…familiar yet not familiar. He pressed his forehead against the cool, damp tile. At first he’d thought Percen had found him. But, as strong as Percen had once been, he hadn’t been this strong.

  Unless his power had grown? Always a possibility.

  Even as Katie’s feelings for him deepened, the curse had definitely grown stronger. Liquid stone still seemed to rush through his veins.

  Could he win her heart in time?

  He let his mind drift over the day’s events. After Frances and Heather had said their goodbyes, he and Katie had worked inside the old house for many hours. Though he still reeled from her rejection, he’d enjoyed their time together; her gaze had repeatedly glided over him with longing.

  I’m still in the game.

  She’d even expressed more curiosity about his past.

  “How did the curse come about?” she’d asked.

  “I was in bed, and I was…not alone.” He’d been with Maylyn. “The guards knocked on the mystical door to tell me a male had arrived who claimed to have news about my father, who had been slain years before. I’d searched for his killer for so long, with no results, and I welcomed any information, from anyone, at any time.”

  He’d vaulted from the bed and dressed, then drew the bed’s canopy closed, so that no one would see his sleeping lover.

  When the magic door-block vanished, Percen had materialized in the bedchamber.

  Maylyn had used magic to move the canopy. She’d remained splayed across the mattress, gloriously naked. With a smile, she’d oh so sweetly uttered a spell to lock Jorlan’s feet in place and purred, “Hello, Percen. You’re late.”

  In that moment, Jorlan had known the truth. She’d been Percen’s ally all along, just as rumors had suggested. Jorlan had reached for a weapon, intending to kill them both, when his brother cast the stone spell. Jorlan’s flesh had hardened between one blink and another, yet he’d still heard, felt and seen everything around him.

  Percen had limped around the statue, studying Jorlan from every angle. He’d laughed with glee. “I know you hear me,” he’d said, trailing a fingertip down Jorlan’s chest. “There was a male here, brother, and he did have information about Father’s death. So I killed him. Now you’ll never know the truth.”

  As Jorlan had screamed and cursed inside the stone, Percen had laughed again, the sound reminding him of glass shards grinding together. “Do not worry, my brother. There’s hope for your freedom yet. When I think you’ve suffered long enough, I will allow Maylyn to kiss you. The stone will vanish, and you will have two cycles to win her heart. Just imagine. She betrayed you, yet you must court her or lose your freedom forevermore.”

  Katie had listened intently, had even hugged him close afterward, a gesture of support and comfort. But when he’d questioned her about her past, hoping to learn more about her, she’d turned away, suddenly busy.

  He thought he understood her reasoning, even if he didn’t like it. Sharing oneself created a bond all on its own, opening wounds once thought healed. But she would learn, just as he had, that they could not deny their pasts and move forward.

  Would she learn in time?

  Would he win her heart?

  Would she choose to part with him even if she did, in fact, love him?

  * * *

  WHILE JORLAN BATHED, Katie set the stage for his seduction.

  Her fingers shook, her nerves on edge as she lit a cluster of jasmine-scented candles on her dresser. The flames flickered in the darkness, lazily twining darkness and light together, casting lacy shadows over the room. The atmosphere evoked a mood of sublime promises and carnal need, hinting about the pleasure to come.

  True to Nick’s advice, she wore nothing beneath her robe. Condoms, lubricants and other purchases were piled on the nightstand beside the bed.

  Just a few more finishing touches to go.

  The flowing water quit sooner than she’d anticipated. Katie froze.

  One minute ticked by, then another and another. From the far corner, she watched as Jorlan emerged from the bathroom, a white cotton towel secured around his waist. Tendrils of steam wafted around him.

&nbs
p; She gulped, steeling herself for what happened next. Ever since she’d turned down his marriage proposal, things had been so uncertain between them. With every fiber of her being, she missed the ease they’d shared before.

  This would either turn out wonderfully or terribly.

  I can do this. I can. “Jorlan?”

  Thumping footsteps resounded as he approached. He stopped a few feet away, candlelight bathing him, his bronzed skin glowing.

  He raked his gaze over her slowly, deliciously. She waited for his reaction, silent, but he said nothing. Did nothing. But, when she played with the robe’s tie, he inhaled sharply.

  “I have been thinking,” he said smoothly.

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “About all the sexual positions we should try?”

  He blinked, surprised. “The sexual positions we should try are always on my mind. But about your life. We have talked about mine, but not yours.”

  “Oh?” Today, she’d shut him down every time he’d asked about her past, certain he would ask about past lovers, and she’d have to admit to being a virgin. How would he react? “Can we discuss my life tomorrow? I thought we could try out one of those positions tonight.”

  She expected a reaction. Excitement. Urgency. Nervousness. What she got? A big fat bowl of nothing. He evinced a grand total of zero emotion. Until his erection tented the towel.

  Oh, thank goodness! He wants me.

  Ultimately, he said, “Nay. We will discuss your life now.”

  “Is that so?” I’m ready to sleep with him, and he wants to know about my future husband? But…she deserved this, she really did. Every time he’d wanted to bed her, she’d stopped him. “What do you want to know, then?”

  A pause as he pondered. Then, “What qualities you desire in your life mate.”

  Her breath caught, her gaze snapping back to his. “Are you asking me to marry you again, because I—”

  “Nay. I am curious, nothing more.”

  Well. That was good. Great. No, wonderful. I’m not disappointed at all.

  Whatever. He wanted to know? Very well. She would tell the truth, even though he wouldn’t like it. “I will choose a man who loves me for who I am, not the woman he wants me to be.” Hint, hint. How many times had he complained about her assertive nature?

  If they were to go to Imperia, he would grow to hate her, no question. He would remember how much he adored subservient dates, and regret wedding Katie. She knew it, felt it, hence the rejection of his proposal.

  “I see,” he said, his tone gruff.

  Did he? “What about you? What are you looking for in a wife?”

  “A woman with spirit and courage, who fascinates me and makes my body throb with unquenchable need. Someone who makes me forget the centuries of imprisonment.”

  Cords of jealousy slithered down her spine. Which was ridiculous! The woman was nameless, faceless and might not exist. “Can we move on to phase two of the evening now?”

  His brows arched. “Phase two?”

  “Sex. Intercourse. Making love.” She held out her arm and crooked her finger, beckoning him over. “I want you, Jorlan.”

  He laughed without humor, his irises deepening to a cool slate. “You wish to bed me, but not wed me. Just as I have wished to bed but not wed others. I have heard your people refer to this type of situation as karma.”

  Realization: her rejection hurt him deeply. This wasn’t a man-pout because he hadn’t gotten his way; she thought he might actually…care about her.

  “Jorlan,” she rasped.

  He gave a slight shake of his head, sending several strands of dark hair over his brow.

  “Please come here.” She beckoned him over a second time. “Don’t be afraid.”

  That did the trick. He barked, “I fear nothing,” then trudged over, dragging his feet. He stopped out of range, choosing to sit at the edge of the bed, just in front of the side table. The scent of soap and sandalwood wafted to her nose, filled her lungs and teased her cells. Her heart raced faster than ever before. Her nails itched to sink into his back, and her toes curled.

  He looked anywhere but Katie, his gaze finally settling on a box of condoms. “What is this?”

  “Condoms. Also known as rubbers, raincoats, love gloves, insurance policies, cock socks, shrink-wrap and happy hats.”

  When his brow puckered in confusion, she explained the consequence of unprotected sex.

  He listened, intent. “I can only impregnate if we were life-joined, katya. The bond is what makes both Imperians fertile. And I have no sexually transmitted diseases.”

  Sweet! Fighting a sudden rush of nerves, she moved directly in front of him, standing between his spread knees. She brushed the inky locks from his eyes and fought a rush of nervousness. “I’m clean, too.”

  He did not acknowledge her words, just swept the box to the floor and raised the tube of lubricant. “And this?”

  “It helps—” Nope. That explanation was more embarrassing than informative. “It eases—” Nope, that wasn’t the best way to explain, either. “It makes a woman wet, for easier penetration.”

  His grin faded, disappearing altogether. “What a ridiculous product! I make a woman wet, katya. This—” he tossed the tube over his shoulder “—is not necessary.”

  Her heart nearly bust out of her chest. “Are you sure you make women wet? Perhaps you should check me, just to be sure?”

  He stiffened. He ran his tongue over his teeth. He gripped his knees and squeezed. Never had a man appeared more at war with himself.

  Filled with a heady mixture of need and anticipation, she wondered about her next move. So many options! Her top two favorites: lead his hand to her core or play with herself while he watched, then slide her damp fingers into his mouth.

  In the end, he took over. With a ragged moan, he clasped her by the waist and eased her closer. Close enough that he was able to kiss the sensitive spot between her breasts, where the robe veed. His warm breath smelled of sweet mint and sent ripples of pleasure through her veins.

  He lifted her then, and settled her on his lap, her legs straddling his. The new position left the sides of her robe gaping open, revealing more of her breasts and all of her thighs. Cool air stroked her overheated skin, and she gasped.

  His erection rested against her soaked core, his towel the only thing that separated them, and oh, he was huge! Thick and as hard as granite. Because of me. Feminine power intoxicated Katie.

  Voice all smoke and gravel, he said, “I might have been in a hurry to get to this moment, but now that it has arrived, I am going to take my time with you, savor every touch, every sound.” His eyes burned with arousal but also iced with determination. “I will give you what you want, katya, but you will give me more than you’ve ever given another.”

  “Yes, yes. More.”

  A heartbeat passed, a mere whisper of time. The room crackled with electricity, his every exhalation rougher than the last. Anticipation built until she shook with it.

  Then and only then did he fist the hair at her nape and yank her face to his. Their lips met in a sizzling kiss.

  Rolling her tongue against his, Katie wound her arms around him. So good. So right.

  But all too soon, he pulled back to pant and watch her through the thick shield of his lashes. “Do you know that ’twas not vengeance or home that I first craved when I felt the stone dissipate? ’Twas you.”

  Beautiful words. Wonderful. Beguiling. The urge to cling to him poked and prodded her, and she didn’t have the strength to resist. “I wanted you, too.” She kissed his cheek, his brow, his other cheek and his chin. “Can we end the conversation now and focus on the good stuff?”

  His soft chuckle heated her skin another thousand degrees. “Getting to know you is the good stuff. Everything I learn makes me desire you more.”

  That was, hands down, the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. Moaning, she claimed his mouth in an explosive kiss. Their tongues dueled, wild and wanton.

  Jorl
an reached beneath the robe to cup her breast and lightly pinch her puckered nipple. The intimate contact drove her mad, her body aching, desperate for more. The calluses on his hands evoked the most delicious friction.

  If he would touch her intimately, just one little brush of his fingers…or his tongue, she would shoot off like a rocket.

  He traced an exquisitely torturous path down the middle of her robe, and she thought, Yes! This is it. He’s going to strip me. Instead of removing the robe, he traced the seam back up.

  She bit the cord of his neck and said, “Please.” The past few days, she’d been aroused one too many times.

  He blazed the same unhurried path down her robe. This time, he went lower. Came back up slower. Went back down, once again going lower than before. His knuckles brushed the small tuft of hair between her legs, and she rolled her hips, chasing those fingers.

  Too much, too much. Not enough. “Jorlan?” She beat at his shoulders. “You’re killing me.”

  Wicked amusement curved his lips. “Did you not say you wished to die of pleasure?”

  “I didn’t mean it literally.” I might have meant it literally.

  “Do you crave more of me?”

  “More…all…please!”

  “Hmm,” he said, running his fingers down the robe again. Through the tuft of pale curls. Almost where she ached the most…

  Nope. Back up he went. “Not just yet, I think.”

  Argh! He would pay for this later.

  He licked and sucked different spots on her neck and chest. He kneaded her butt. She writhed, and she pressed against him. She tried to place his hands where she needed them most, but he ruined her efforts by pinning her arms behind her back.

  “I’m seriously considering tying you up and taking over, Jorlan!”

  His laugh was a low purr. Then—finally!—he dipped his free hand inside her robe. Instead of cupping and squeezing her breast as she so desperately craved, he traced her areola, the action only increasing her frustration.

  “Tell me what I do to you,” he commanded softly.

  “You make me ache.” She meant the words as a complaint, but they sounded more like a plea.