One Thousand Kisses

by One Thousand Kisses

  He pushed himself up until his head was level with hers. His skin was moist, probably salty, and he wouldn’t let her taste him. She opened her eyes, surprised to see the sun had angled into the room through a crack between the curtains, painting him like one of the spirits. Like Ka, beautiful Ka the Dragon.

  Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “What did I do?”

  “Not you.” He caressed her cheek. “This can’t go any further.”

  “Do you feel bad? We don’t have to do this now.” She willed herself not to cry, willed him, at least, not to notice.

  But he did. He kissed her cheek where a tear had trickled down. “It’s not that.”

  “Is it because we need to go?”

  “No.” He kissed her again, nuzzling her ear.

  “Then why?” She blinked fast and hard.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  With his face in her neck, she risked a confession. It shocked her even as she recognized the truth in it, and how long it had been true. “I won’t refuse you.”

  He lifted his head and licked his lips. “You might.”

  “I won’t.” Had she ever begged like this? No, she’d never needed like this.

  “Ever?”

  She sniffed uncertainly. She was swept up in this moment, but not so much she missed his meaning. “Embor, what do you want?”

  “I want you.”

  “You can have me.” Her heart thudded against her ribs. He could have her now, however he wanted her. Later she’d face—later.

  He said nothing. Ani closed her eyes and focused on the spell globe in her mouth—the tooth. What she wouldn’t give for two seconds of healing magic, to read his hormone levels.

  “Please tell me why you stopped.”

  “I can’t.”

  Her voice broke with frustration. “Then why do this to me if you don’t mean to—”

  He kissed her, his tongue stroking her lips. She opened for him. She could be pliant. She could be mastered. She’d tried four hundreds, a few seven hundreds. If submitting meant he’d finish what he’d started, she’d do whatever he asked. She needed him so much she hurt.

  His hand closed on her breast, and she prayed he wouldn’t stop. His palm chafed her nipple. She longed to touch him.

  “I do mean to.” He traced circles around her nipple before resting his hand on her belly.

  “When?”

  Lines deepened beside his mouth. “There are things you don’t know.”

  If her hands were free, she could erase those lines and the one between his eyebrows that never seemed to disappear. “I know about the globes. The nightmares. The scars.”

  “There’s more.”

  “I’ve been keeping your secrets for five years.” She wrinkled her nose. “State secrets. You can trust me.”

  “I don’t want you to have to bear my secrets.”

  “Because I’m weak.” Her throat tightened. “I’m not my sister. I’m not strong.”

  Something lightened in his expression. “I thank the spirits every day you’re not your sister.”

  She wasn’t clear what that meant. Neither she nor Tali was a thorn in the Court’s side any longer. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or insulted.”

  He dropped a melting kiss at the corner of her lips, speaking against her skin. “What do you think?”

  “I think if you want to stop, you’re going about it wrong.” Her breathing hitched. “This is humanspace. The rules are different here.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “This isn’t a bond test. It’s…bodies.” In the Realm when you bedded a new partner, there was always the chance. But not in humanspace. There was nothing to stop them from making love.

  He regarded her with hooded eyes. “Does that make a difference to you?”

  “Does it matter?” With their history, if he’d pursued this in the Realm, would she have committed herself to a bond test with him? Would she have—would he have—risked forever?

  “It matters to me.”

  “Loosen my arms.”

  A smile quirked his mouth and he drew a soft line down her nose. “I can’t risk that.”

  His mood may have mellowed, but hers had soured. She didn’t want to hear any more can’ts. Can’t accept her help. Can’t confide in her. Can’t make love to her. Can’t risk her touch.

  What had she risked for him, coming here? Everything.

  She averted her gaze. “I need to use the restroom.”

  He helped her unwrap the nightgown, his hands lingering. She shrugged the material over her head and tossed it onto the other bed where the cat lounged, yellow eyes gleaming. She’d forgotten about the spirit-cursed feline. He certainly looked pleased with himself. What was his obsession with her, Embor and sex?

  Perhaps Master Fey merely wished for her to get what she wanted.

  When she sat beside Embor again, he tensed. But his gaze dropped to her breasts and nipples.

  “Anisette.” He leaned away from her. “This isn’t why I released you.”

  “I know.” Before he could react, she took his cock in her hand, gauging its size and heft through his thin drawers. He was hard and heavy.

  He grabbed her wrist. “You’re playing with fire.”

  “A bit of a cliché with you, don’t you think?” She shot her other hand forward but he caught it, too. “You should have just told me you had a headache.”

  His nostrils flared. “You don’t understand.”

  “And you won’t explain, but I’m through trying to change your mind.” She jerked away from him and rose.

  He raised an eyebrow. Damn him.

  She sauntered away, knowing he watched her, knowing he was hard for her. Everyone had a different thrill. Favored a different ritual. What did a man like Embor want? Primary of the Realm. Did he need submission? Begging? Pleading? She’d given him this chance to master her, and he hadn’t taken it. She wouldn’t offer it again.

  When she reached the restroom, she nudged her pantalets down her legs. They were damp. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. “I’m done playing with fire. I’ll put it out myself.”

  He stood, his cock tenting his underwear. “What do you mean?”

  “If you can’t please me,” she told him, “I’ll please myself.” And with that she slammed and locked the bathroom door, taking the sight of his agonized expression with her into the steam of the shower and her fantasies.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Embor handled his sexual frustration the standard way as soon as Anisette locked the door.

  Push-ups.

  The cat stared while he sweated it out on the floor. Embor hoped the ache in his groin would subside enough for him to concentrate on anything besides Anisette’s body. He couldn’t afford to be distracted when Skythia might be on his trail. When the Torval agents might be close enough to…strangle.

  The distraction of making love to Anisette would be enormous. If he succumbed once, he’d succumb again, which would encroach on his schedule. If he told her about the Seers first, as was right and fair, he’d also have to deal with her emotional upheaval and possible feelings of betrayal.

  No, it was best if they postponed it until he could focus on her. It wasn’t as if she could bond with anyone else in the meantime.

  His muscles burned as his ardor dimmed. Now that the rush was over, he could admit he might be feeling some globe withdrawal. Headache, mild tremors and—possibly—increased irritability. But it was nothing like separation sickness. Maybe the worst had passed while he’d slept.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and held his position above the floor, arms rigid. Sweat dripped onto the ghastly carpet. Not even the vomitous shag could erase the softness of Anisette’s breasts, the eagerness of her lips, the taste of her pink nipples. What would it feel like to thrust into her creamy warmth, over and over?

  His cock, which had nearly subsided, jabbed the floor on his next downward motion. He flinched. But he couldn’t give in to the lust. It wasn’t
just bodies. It was Anisette, and he wouldn’t do what he knew was wrong. He’d confine himself to the mission and keep Anisette out of it.

  He’d even keep her family out of it, if for no other reason than he didn’t want to confess to her how he’d personally incited Talista and Jake to treason.

  “Thank you for choosing Dandy Rent-a-Car, Mr. Smith.” The lady behind the counter slid Embor a silver key. She glanced over the counter at the cat, who’d pressed his face against the mesh window of the pet carrier to hiss and moan. “We charge a cleaning fee for any…accidents.”

  “There won’t be,” Anisette assured her. Embor hefted the carrier and suitcase. He had no objection to releasing the cat once they were in private, but restraining the piss-happy feline in public was proving difficult.

  The cat began to wriggle the zipper from the inside. He’d scratched Embor several times when the concept of the carrier had been introduced, but once Anisette asked the cat to cooperate, he’d walked into the carrier without so much as an ear twitch.

  A white claw shot out of the tiny gap at the top of the zipper. The pull rattled. Embor jounced the carrier, and the cat yowled.

  “Give him to me.” Anisette dropped the rucksack and cradled the carrier in her arms like it was precious. She hadn’t spoken to Embor much since their bungled encounter, not even when he’d taken his human headache remedies in her line of sight. He wondered how long she’d stay angry. “I’m sorry he’s such a bully, Master Fey.”

  “Policy of Discretion,” Embor said blandly. When in humanspace, do as humans do. That included stuffing cats in carriers instead of following them around as if the animal were in charge.

  “Now he cares about policy,” she murmured to the cat.

  In the parking lot, Embor inspected the rental from headlights to trunk, alert for incongruities. When he was satisfied, he hesitated at the passenger door. “Anisette, do you want to drive?”

  “I don’t know how.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “If you can’t drive, either, this will be a short trip.”

  “I can. I merely wished to give you first choice.” He didn’t detest driving when the vehicle had enough space for his legs. But if she drove, it would force her to stay awake and converse with him. He failed to believe a person as polite as Anisette would brood the whole way to Key West.

  She didn’t thank him, but she did let him open and shut her car door.

  “It’s possible they aren’t even looking for us,” he told her. “The Cragen agents might not have identified us.” To be on the safe side, they needed to reach Key West soon. He had certain protections in place there.

  She adjusted her sun visor to shade her face. “I notice you gave a pseudonym to the rental agent. Is that so they can’t track us by traditional means?”

  “It’s standard procedure. Policy of Discretion.”

  “I suppose you can’t use Embor of Clan Fiertag, Primary of the Realm.”

  “I could,” he said, starting the car, “but it doesn’t significantly increase the quality of the service I receive.”

  She bit back a laugh. Everyone was always surprised when he jested. Unfortunately he couldn’t come up with anything else witty, so he attempted a stock conversational overture.

  She agreed the weather was hot and began to practice communication tactics with the cat. He thought the cat was pulling Anisette’s nonexistent tail. “Mrow” was no substitute for “no”, and swiveling ears didn’t indicate agreement. If he needed answers from the feline, the repository he’d secreted in Skythia’s Key West residence should allow for it.

  It hadn’t been easy to keep Skythia out of humanspace while he’d been conducting his experiments, but it was worth it. She’d thank him in the end.

  Embor located the highway that led through Florida. He could have had his associates deliver several transport globes and skipped the drive, but that would have meant explaining to Anisette where he’d gotten the spells. The closest deposit of globes—and safety from location magic—was Key West.

  As were the Torvals. Presumably. The cat swiveled his ears when Anisette asked if the agents were still in Key West.

  After an interlude of billboards, scrub trees, mrows and miaows, Embor needed a distraction from the escalating headache. Would Anisette oblige him? She had a right to her injured feelings. He shouldn’t have taken liberties with her person. In the aftermath of his nightmare, his head hammering, his heart racing, she’d been so sweet he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

  Tasting her, touching her, had been everything he’d imagined. She was a haven. She was delectable. He’d been prepared for a lengthy campaign. Every minute in her company, he hated the delay. Her willing kisses had nearly broken his resolve.

  He cleared his throat and spoke. “We should be in the Keys soon.”

  Anisette stared out the window and stroked the cat.

  “Miaow,” the cat said.

  Embor didn’t agree the cat was attempting to communicate, as opposed to having a laugh at their expense. He sighed audibly. It evoked no response from cat or woman.

  Normally he didn’t mind stillness. He’d once been accused of having an allergy to conversation. This was simply not true. He’d be happy to converse with Anisette, but she broached subjects he wasn’t prepared to discuss. She was more tenacious than he would have guessed.

  She was not so much like her sister—or his—that Embor worried about his future peace of mind, but in two short days, Anisette had displayed an unanticipated range of emotions. At one point on the beach he’d thought she might throw something besides sand and words. Fortunately, her admirable common sense had prevailed, and she’d cooperated with his leadership.

  She’d been less cooperative this morning, but discussing their heated encounter wouldn’t ease their situation, much less his headache.

  If things went as he hoped, he’d stash Anisette in the safe house while he and the Drakhmores took the Torval agents into custody. His team had enough spell globes, enough firepower, to subdue an entire human city. Fairies were trickier, but humans were quite susceptible to Jake’s control globes.

  It should be, as Talista was fond of saying, as easy as microwave popcorn, unlike maintaining a conversation with Anisette.

  As a gifted student, perhaps she’d appreciate learning about their destination. Embor considered what trivia she might like.

  “The highway to Key West is constructed of many long bridges over the ocean. The longest is seven miles, between the Middle and Lower Keys.”

  “Have you traveled the bridges?” she asked.

  He’d guessed correctly. She enjoyed learning. Or was too courteous to snub a second, painfully obvious, overture.

  “Once.” He wasn’t looking forward to that stretch of road. The miles of ocean on either side of the flimsy human constructions disturbed him. “The climate is akin to central Gala.”

  “That sounds pleasant.” Her tone was clipped but not petulant. Progress.

  “Key West contains the so-called southernmost point of the United States.” Skythia had dragged him to stand on a concrete outcropping during his initial visit to her hideaway. Why she thought he’d want to view acres of boundless water, he couldn’t fathom. “It isn’t really the southernmost point, but humans don’t care much about accuracy.”

  “Where exactly are we going?”

  “Somewhere secure.” He’d take her to Skythia’s house with instructions not to leave its protective environs. She already knew fairies had bolt-holes in humanspace.

  “What will we do when we get there?”

  He hadn’t answered this question yesterday, nor would he today. Providing her with details would increase her culpability. It might also make her angrier with him. “I’ll direct my assets to locate and contain the Torvals.”

  “Tali never mentioned anyone in humanspace besides ring agents and researchers. Are your assets connected to the AOC?”

  Her curiosity had its drawbacks. She did share that with her sister, wh
o was forever asking question after question.

  “No,” he said. “The less you know, the better.” The headache made him frown. Or was it increased irritability? He’d not had more tremors.

  “I thought we agreed I can keep secrets,” she said stiffly.

  “I’m not following Court protocol. You’ll be safe. The rest isn’t your concern.”

  “Oddly enough, I feel a great deal of concern.” The cat stretched in her lap and yawned.

  “Don’t worry.” Illicit activities were soon to be a thing of his past, like energy globes. Nightmares. Celibacy. Hopefully. “My success will aid us with Warran and Ophelia.”

  “How?”

  “The agents’ testimony is the breakthrough the Commission for Truth needs with the AOC. Once we clean up their board of directors, the Torvals lose their biggest supporters.”

  “How long will it take to catch the agents?”

  “We should return to the Realm within a day.” He could tell Anisette was watching him without turning his attention from the interstate. The cat probably was too.

  “If it were a day’s work, the Court would have taken care of it by now.”

  “The Court has trouble locating deserters who’ve gone to ground in deadspace.” Especially since the Court didn’t have the groundbreaking magics he, Jake and Talista had developed.

  “Key West isn’t a deadspace.”

  “Correct. It was only a matter of time.” His team would have located the Torvals during the next scheduled sweep of the ring network. Now that the cat had tipped him off, all he had to do was make a few calls and take a few pills. His headache wasn’t as crushing as separation sickness, but it could prove distracting.

  “You’d think they’d have the sense not to come out of deadspace,” she remarked.

  The Torvals had eluded official search parties for five years and his unofficial party for one. Milshadred and her sibs had to make a mistake sometime. Now they’d pay the price for kidnapping, murder, gnome smuggling, illegal magic use, conspiracy and general treason.