“Hot…hot!” She nearly scalded herself. Swinging the towel around in the air, she tried her best to cool it down, and then placed it on her face once more. That sobered her up….well kind-of. She hiccupped, then burped…then giggled stupidly. “Pig” she snorted like one, laughing harder. “I am so funny.” Maybe Lucian was right…she was funny—hilarious even. At least that is what he told her while Reed was sitting at the table.
Raven crinkled her brow in thought. She was having such a grand time with Lucian. It got even better when Reed started to make faces from the end of the table. He had been a beast at dinner, giving her angry glares every time Lucian complimented her or told her she was funny. Actually now that she thought on it, he, Lucian, did seem to do it an awful lot, compliment her that is. Maybe it was a bit too much…she scrunched her face up, thinking on it, but suddenly found she was too tipsy to care. She tossed the towel on the side of the sink and stumbled out of the bathroom. Stumbling across the room she struggled out of her clothing and tossed it in the direction of the chair. They landed short of the chair landing in a rumpled heap onto the floor instead. Struggling, she pulled a t-shirt over her head. Once she put it on she lifted up one leg off the floor to pull on her yoga pants. The floor moved, or she moved…sideways. She lost her balance. Pitching sideways, she fell into the dresser. The bottles clamored and wobbled on the top. One fell on its side and started rolling. “Crap!” She lunged forward to catch the priceless crystal, but missed. It hit the carpet with a dull thud. With her yoga pants on one leg, she waddled over to the bottle. Every time she took a step the bottle skidded further across the carpet. She stopped and sat down on the floor. Actually it was more of a fall. Once there she wondered if she should just stay there. Glancing in the direction of the comfy bed she decided there was no way she was going to miss sleeping in that bed again. Reaching forward she grabbed the bottom of her pants, wiggling into to them. She felt like a caterpillar. The material snapped loudly against her stomach but she finally managed to get them over her hips. Letting out an exhausted sigh, she decided to give up on the bottle. “Mental note to self, get the bottle in the morning.” Crawling up off the floor she looked toward the bed. It was a fuzzy monstrosity, waffling in and out of focus. She made a running jump for the center and landed right in the middle. “Ugh!” she groaned in pain, rolling to her side. The bed didn’t bounce like she thought it would. It felt like a board. “Damn cheapskates,” she hiccupped, rolling over. Under normal circumstances she may have tried to pad the bed a bit with the innumerable amount of pillows at the top of the bed but right now it didn’t matter. Lucian plied her with so much of Reed’s rare wine she probably could have fallen asleep on a bed of nails.
In moments Raven was asleep. Her dreams filled with visions of another realm, with a Knight in shining armor. It would have been perfect but he was not happy. Instead he was screaming out in agony…she whimpered in her sleep, tears sliding down her face.
*LUCIAN
Lucian locked the door and pulled out his phone, checking the reception. He couldn’t find a signal. Frustrated, he tossed it back on the chair and removed his only jacket. It was Armani, after all. He fingered the material, smoothing it out as he gingerly hung it in the armoire. It hung alone. He shoved the rest of his suitcases into the bottom; they were filled with the rest of his worldly possessions, which weren’t many, considering. Stacking them carefully, one by one on top of one another, noting he may have to sell them off too. That is if he couldn’t get any more money from Reed, the damn tight-fist, which was his new name for his brother. He chuckled, not from amusement, but from desperation. It was a feeling he was growing accustomed to. It made his stomach twist in knots. What in the hell was he going to do? He needed money, a lot of it. His inheritance was gone, not that he had much to start with. The bulk of the money had been left to Reed and he had kept it for himself, under the guise of using it for Ravenhurst. He looked around the room he was stuck in—the wallpaper peeling off in spots. The bedding tattered, the bed ancient. He walked across the carpet; it too had seen better days. And the mirror, the weird one that was across the room, hanging all alone on the wall, giving the illusion of a doorway, the silvering almost gone.
Obviously, Reed didn’t spend too much on the upkeep of Ravenhurst; this was the same shit he had seen as a boy and hated. It was garish and old. Their father had always been more worried about this old pile of rocks than either of his sons. He was fascinated with the legend of Ravenhurst, the knight whose heart blackened and all the treasures he accumulated, hiding it away from the King.
Actually, Ravenhurst had switched hands more often than not, everyone fascinated with the legend, but finally each owner gave up and moved on. Lucian wanted to move along too… keep going, and stay as far away from this place as possible. Much like the fog that hung heavily around the castle, it stayed, just as Reed had, all these years. It was ridiculous, really, and creepy.
No, Lucian had a taste for the finer things, streamlined, with lots of glass, contemporary. Not this dilapidated pile of rubble. He looked around feeling as though the walls were closing in on him. There was a stale unused odor in the room. He hated that too, he wouldn’t even be here if he weren’t looking for the so-called treasure. Apparently, Reed had yet to find it. Oh, they had looked as children to no avail, but that was a game. They would pretend to be knights: Reed was always the good, noble knight; Lucian the bad one. It was fun being the darker of the two, but it must have stuck at some point. Funny, that is always how their father had seen him. Lucian, he was the bad son, the troublemaker, the good for nothing son, he could hear his father saying. That was okay though, at least Lucian wasn’t an asshole.
Well it would be their father’s just due if he, Lucian, found the treasure for himself. He would probably roll over in his grave if he knew what Lucian was up to. Oh well. Lucian had a mission. He intended to find the misbegotten treasures of Ravenhurst and keep them all for himself. It was not as though Reed would even notice. He doubted Reed had even bothered to look for it. Of course, it was a long shot. Much like the many horses he had bet on, long shots that never paid off, but this would. He’d make certain of it. He had to. He needed the money and if any of it was left over, maybe, just maybe he would give a small pittance to Reed. After all, that is what Reed had given Lucian, a mere pittance. How was he supposed to survive on that? Granted, at first, it was a nice amount but as time went by, he saw less and less money. He was no longer able to keep the collectors at bay. He had become so desperate he had even considered faking his own death. No, he did not want to go to those lengths yet, but he was not adverse to it. If all else failed he would have to, simply to stop certain people from tracking him down and doing it for real. He shivered from the thought.
Sighing heavily, he walked over to the window, looking out into the darkened night. What was with the appraiser, Raven? Where in the hell did Reed find her? Lucian ran his hands through his hair, laughing lightly. Reed must have scraped the bottom of the barrel for her. Sure, she was cute, he guessed, but a bit naïve, though. At first he thought Reed was trying to use the ruse of appraising the junk in the house as a means, to well, spend time with Raven. But who knew with Reed; he always did have odd tastes when it came to the girls he found attractive. And after spending the evening talking with her, he was bored to tears. And her laugh, good lord, it was grating. But it did seem to piss off Reed, so Lucian had suffered through it.
*MILFORD
Milford hung back in the shadows until he finally heard everyone go to their separate rooms.
Ravenhurst was silent, with the exception of the ancient clock chiming in the distance. Three times, it dinged, groaning in protest. It sounded as tired as he felt. He let out a breathy sigh and climbed the stairs to his own room. He was tired, not from lack of sleep but from being in this house too long. He couldn’t leave until the legend was laid to rest. He had hope though; hope that Raven would finally take her place here, like Katherine had done. She was the last
piece of the puzzle. She was the tie that would bind them all in one place, once and for all, to the future. At least he hoped she would. He would seek her out on the morrow, drop some hints, and guide her in the right direction.
Milford opened the door to his room, the ancient door groaned on its hinges. He pushed it closed. Shuffling wearily across the room to the bureau, he opened the top drawer and pulled out clippings from magazines. He stared down at the stack of pictures of white sandy beaches, beautiful oceans, and palm trees swaying in the wind. He could almost taste his freedom…almost. He closed his eyes savoring the moment, like he always did right before sleep, so his dreams were filled with pleasant images instead of the horrible ones that had plagued him for centuries. Yes, on the morrow he would start in motion the final chapter of what had become his curse to bear through time. He only hoped Raven would see it his way and help him. If not, he was destined to spend out his days trapped behind the walls of the ancient edifice, Ravenhurst.
Gently he tucked the pictures back into the drawer and shut it. Lowering his hand, he opened another drawer to the bureau; it creaked in protest as he pulled out a pair of pristine striped pajamas and made quick work of putting them on. Once he finished he walked over to the armoire, checking behind it quickly to make sure it was still in place and hung his suit into it. Satisfied nothing was amiss; he crossed the room, turned down the duvet on his bed and climbed in. The pillows were too hard, so he fluffed them before laying his head down and closed his eyes. Images of paradise filled his mind…they were just out of his grasp. He only hoped Lucian didn’t ruin everything. He always was a mischief-maker. Hopefully time had fixed that undesirable trait in the young man, but Milford didn’t think so, he wouldn’t be that lucky.
Dreaded Nightmares
RAVENHURST * THE AGE OF CHIVALRY
DARIAS lay awake, staring sightlessly ahead in the darkness. He had the dream again, the terrible one, where the girl he had found was ripped away from him. He let out a shaky breath. She had given him such a fright before. He lifted his hand to smooth her hair away from her forehead. It was cool now, normal, not heated. He was so relieved. At least he tried to tell himself it was merely relief he was feeling. But in actuality, if truth were told, it may be just a bit more than relief he was feeling. Turning on his side he looked down at her in the dim light. Yes, he would have to say it was quite a bit more. He could tell by the way his heart picked up pace when he simply looked at her, not to mention what it did when he touched her. If he were one given over to fanciful thoughts, he would describe the feelings coursing through his innards whilst she was near nothing short of magical, that they were indeed destined to be with one another for an eternity. Of course, he would never speak such rubbish. Not saying it though still did not stop it from being true.
Even now as he looked at her, he could feel his heart persistently pounding against his ribcage, prompting him to do something he never thought to do in all his years.
He leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She moaned in response, making a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. “I think… I love you,” he said barely above a whisper, it seemed easier that way.
***
Marguerite felt him kiss her, even though she still pretended to be asleep. Had she heard him correctly? Surely, she was still dreaming, and what a wonderful dream it was. He, the man she loved more than words could ever describe, said he loved her. Or at least he thought he did. Hell, who cared… I think I love you was just a little shove away from full-fledged declarations of love. At least the words crossed his lips. That was a start. Granted it was a start up a very long steep hill, but it was a start just the same. Now that the ball was rolling so to speak, it shouldn’t take more than a meager shove or two to get it rolling all the way over.
Breathlessly she waited to hear if any more declarations were coming her way….and she waited…and waited…
Finally, when none came, she peeked out from under her lashes. Patience was never her strong suit. Truthfully, she wanted to jump into his arms, tell him she felt the same; that she didn’t need to think… she knew she was in love with him. She felt the warmth of his body pressed against her own and turned more fully towards him. She lifted her hand and caressed his face. The growth of hair on his chin was longer now than it had been; it tickled her fingers. She could feel him looking at her although it was still dark. Her heart picked up pace, thudding erratically as he leaned over the top of her, his mouth inches from her own. Then he kissed her. At first, the kiss was tender and sweet, gentle…but as she threaded her hands through his hair, pushing it over his broad shoulders, the kiss deepened. It was more intense, burning with unspoken words and unleashed passion, simmering just below the surface. He groaned into her mouth, pulling her even closer to his body. She kissed him back with all the emotion she was feeling. Instead of telling him with words how she felt, she used her body to show him what he meant to her. Slowly she pushed him back onto the bed. She could not see his face, which was a good thing. She would be too embarrassed to continue if he could actually see her. She boldly embraced the darkness, trailing her fingers across the taut muscles of his chest as she lifted her leg to straddle him. His hands kneaded her flesh, coaxing her without words as he ran them up the length of her body, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. His hands stilled on her hips, holding either side.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained and tight.
“Oh, yes, I am sure,” she smiled and nodded her head enthusiastically.
He stilled her body with his hand. “I do not want to hurt you,” he said, adamant in his avowal. This did not stop him from becoming aroused just the same. She had that effect on him.
“I am fine. Really,” she emphasized that word, trying to make him see she meant what she said but he still held her securely in place.
“Mayhap we should just lie next to one another, until you are fully recovered.”
“I am fine.” Marguerite tried not to grit her teeth in frustration. “I promise you will not harm me.”
“If you are sure…” He squeezed the delicate skin on her hips with one hand, and slid his other hand over the rounded flesh of her buttocks.
She bit her lip, as he slid his fingers down between her thighs, and then pulled them back out once more. Gooseflesh sprang up on Marguerites body, not from the cool breeze blowing inside the chamber, but from his fiery touch, making her burn.
He held her hand in his own and helped her guide his length into her body. “Go slow,” he urged, sucking in his breath as she impaled herself against him.
Marguerite gasped in surprise. She didn’t mean to shove it in so hard.
“Does it pain you?”
Marguerite was glad it was still dim in the chamber. She chewed her lip. “No, I am good,” she lied. She didn’t care if it hurt down there or not, other parts of her body wanted more. Besides the pain was fading quickly away replaced with a growing urgency that filled her body.
He urged her to move up and down against the length of him with his strong hands, his fingers kneading her flesh, helping her move even faster. In moments, she was beyond herself, beyond caring. She was on fire.
Darias could see just fine, he was accustomed to the dimness just before the light of day. He watched her ride him, her body jerking in wild abandon, her long curling mane swinging across her small breasts as they jiggled from the action. Lifting his hand up her brushed his thumb against her taut nipple. It was hard, sweet, and perfect. He groaned. “That’s it love, give me all you have…” he urged throatily, his deep voice husky.
His words turned her on even more. She couldn’t believe how wanton she had become. Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his as his tongue delved into her mouth. She bit his lip playfully, and then nipped at his neck, suckling the skin there. He groaned out in satisfaction and tossed her over onto her back, plunging even deeper inside.
Guttural moans of pleasure slipped from his mouth as he seized her legs, lifting them h
igher as he pulled them apart, sliding back and forth inside her tight passage. He had all he could do not to explode right then. She cried out his name in a frenzy of want…need, which made him thrust even harder.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” he breathed.
“It’s all right,” she struggled out breathlessly, close to the brink but not close enough.
Darias almost laughed. In fact, he would have if he weren’t on the verge of losing control. “No my love it’s not all right. I want you to cum for me first…” he whispered throatily.
Marguerite had no idea what he said, she stopped listening after she heard two very distinct words…My love echoed in her mind. His words sent her modest self into overdrive as she reveled in his breathy proclamations. Her body writhed with desire; she welcomed the burn, from the frenetic urgency of their lovemaking. Each thrust he made inside of her body pushed her further. Their bodies slickened with sweat, as he rubbed against her, breathing heavily. She wrapped her legs and arms more firmly around him, as he pushed her over the edge. Marguerite gasped out in sheer pleasure as Darias thrust into her deeply one last time, letting himself finally go over the edge as well.
***
Slowly they both came back to the here and now, the sun making an appearance, chasing shadows from the room. The light revealed his glorious body in the early morning rays, basking him. That meant one thing… he could see her too—she made a grab for the blankets and tried to cover herself.
DREAMS OF TOMORROW: A NEW ADULT TIME TRAVELING ROMANCE (Ravenhurst Series) Page 5
