Stolas: A Dark Soul Series Novel

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Stolas: A Dark Soul Series Novel Page 19

by Randi Cooley Wilson


  My fingers find their way up her smooth thighs, moving slowly, until they’re under her shirt. She bites her bottom lip and lifts her arms, granting me permission to lift it up and over her head.

  I crumple the shirt and toss it across the room, stepping between her legs.

  My gaze glides over her naked upper body, taking her in. “You’re fucking beautiful,” I exhale.

  A blush crawls across her cheeks, matching the hue of her pink, lace panties.

  I continue to mark her legs with more of my rune designs, as my own begin to stir. The glowing crimson color swirls and Hope’s eyes follow them as they twist and turn across my body.

  When I’m finished, I drop the charcoal on the floor and admire my work.

  She doesn’t move, but her chest heaves as she pants for air.

  Seeing my runes on her is my undoing. My need for her pulses through my body, and has me pulling her forward, until my arousal is flush with her center.

  Working my hands up her bare back, they wrap into her hair and I give a quick, forceful tug. Her head falls back, exposing her neck. I pull the untainted, pale skin into my mouth, kissing and sucking hard. I know I’ll leave a mark but that is what this about, my lust for her taking over all reason and wanting to make her mine.

  I keep my mouth pressed against her neck, nipping and biting, as I explore her body. Getting to know her likes and what pleases her. I leave a trail of kisses up her neck and over her chin. I pull away when my lips come close to hers, letting them hover over her mouth a sliver.

  Our breaths mingle.

  She gasps when I roll my hips, rubbing myself against the thin layer of cotton covering her lower body. A tremble runs over her and for a second, I wonder if she is as terrified as I am.

  “The choice is yours, mortal,” I whisper.

  Her eyes search mine, holding my gaze as she trails one finger lightly down my chest and over my stomach. Dipping into my navel, she continues downward, causing me to inhale and hold my breath in suspense.

  Spreading her fingers out, her warm palm pushes between us and covers my erection, as the words I’ve been waiting to hear fall from her mouth. “I choose you.”

  She rubs and squeezes, causing me to thrust into her hand.

  I curse on an exhale and shake my head. I realize it’s not what I want to hear. “Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

  Her eyes flash, and her body breaks out in goosebumps. “I want you . . . Stone.”

  With those words, I claim her mouth, and everything around us fades away. The Circles, birthrights, and obligations all but disappear. It’s just the two of us, in this moment, and the feel of our bodies as they move against each other.

  Hope’s warm tongue slides inside my mouth and I lean into her with my full weight. She moans softly into my mouth. I pull away a sliver, allowing both of us to catch our breaths. Drawing a line over her collarbone and up to her neck, I lightly wrap my fingers around the column of her throat, watching her eyes fill with desire.

  I use my other hand to pull hers from between us, and kiss her palm as I deliberately push myself against her core. Her lashes flutter with pleasure as I move in an urgent, rhythmic pattern. Peering into my eyes, she wraps her legs around my waist, rubbing herself against me as her mouth falls open. Our connection is growing.

  My feelings about her are torn. Part of me wants to rip her panties off and fuck her senseless. The other part wants to kiss her softly and take my time exploring.

  Her breaths come out in quick gasps and I know she’s close to losing control. Her hands reach for the waistband of my jeans, and I look down to follow her movement. My jeans have slunk down my hips, and the tip of my cock is showing. She runs her thumb over its head and I shudder.

  I can’t let this end before it even begins. Pushing her shoulders back, I lean into her until her back presses against my desk. Then I pin her arms over her head, mindful of her bandaged wrist.

  “Stay,” I order.

  But she’s defiant as always, and continues to move underneath me. When I release my grip on her wrists, she leaves her arms where they are. Smiling at her obedience, I move my mouth down over her breast and spend my time suckling on each of her nipples until they’re pebbled.

  She responds by arching up into me and moaning.

  My fingertips toy with the lace at the top of her panties. Needing more, I stand up and work the thin scrap of material down her legs, letting them drop to the floor. Grabbing behind her knees, I tug her toward me, bringing her ass to the edge of the desk. She yelps in surprise and grips the edge tightly. I drop down, until she’s level with my mouth. With a need to taste her consuming me, I place her legs over my shoulders and kiss her inner thigh.

  She squirms as I leisurely make my way to her center. Running my tongue from the bottom to the top of her slit, I suck her into my mouth, and flick with my tongue, over and over again. Her back arches off the drafting table again, wanting more . . . and I oblige.

  “Fuck,” she pants out as I work two fingers inside her.

  My eyes lift and meet her stare as she props up on her elbows to watch me devour her. With my free hand, I unbutton my jeans and stroke my length. Her head falls back and her legs tighten around my head. When her stomach begins to quiver, I double my efforts and she grinds against me, fucking my face. Before she has time to come down from her high, I stand, pushing my pants and boxers down to my knees. Grabbing onto her upper thighs, I hold her tight as I slide into her.

  Angling my hips, I work to find the right spot. When I hit it, she squeezes her legs around me, holding me tight as I build friction. Deeper. Harder. Hope matches my thrusts, grinding her hips with mine. I lean forward, dropping my forehead to hers. My movements become harder and rougher, and her body responds to everything I am giving.

  Everything I am taking.

  I bury my fingers in her hair, yanking hard. The sharp sting from the pull causes her to open her mouth, and I take her lips in a punishing kiss. Within seconds, I’m swallowing her screams as she rides out her orgasm.

  Working my arms under hers, I grip onto her shoulders. Holding her still, I pound into her faster, chasing my own release. I kiss her passionately as I finally let go. Coming hard, my movements become erratic and I grunt with the force of it.

  We stay entwined as we both struggle to drag air into our lungs and the glow of my runes fade. My nose is buried in her neck and I inhale her scent. Memorizing it. My fingers are now linked with hers, and rest above her head.

  I pretend she is mine.

  That I won’t ever let her go.

  I lie to myself. Because in the end, when it comes down to it, I will choose the Circles.

  Hope

  The girl watching me in the mirror is judging me. She wants to know what in the hell I was thinking having sex with Stone. The problem is, I wasn’t thinking. I’d had no intentions of letting what happened tonight, well, happen. I was only supposed to go into his studio to chew him out for not standing up to his father at dinner.

  Apparently, my body had other ideas. Traitor.

  I narrow my eyes at my reflection. “Stop judging me.”

  I look down at the black lines he’d drawn on me and frown. Even though Stone sketching on me was the hottest thing anyone has ever done to me, it was never about love . . . it was pure need.

  Lust.

  I meet my gaze in the mirror and warn myself not to get them confused.

  Hopping in the shower, I take my time, rubbing incessantly to get all the charcoal off my body. I hold the sponge over the heart he drew on my arm for a moment, memorizing it before washing it away. Once I’m finally clean and dry, I brush my teeth, blow dry my hair, and slip into my pajamas—grateful to be ready for bed.

  Steam escapes the bathroom as I open the door to my guestroom. I turn off the lights and take two steps into the bedroom before coming to a halt. Stone is sprawled out on my bed. He’s showered, half-naked, and casually laying on top of the sheets, wearing only lounge pants.


  “You’re shirtless again,” I announce, hoarsely.

  “And you took a two-hour shower,” he counters.

  I cross my arms over my chest, unsure of what is happening between us. “You’re in my bed.”

  “You’re wearing another one of my T-shirts.”

  “So?”

  “I thought we were just announcing obvious things about one another.”

  I exhale and walk toward the bed, sitting down next to him. “Why are you in here, Stone?”

  He looks up at me and twirls a strand of my hair around his fingers. “Where else would I be?”

  “Are you saying you want to cuddle?”

  “Demons like to be held after sex,” he grants me his half grin.

  “Are you here because you are regretting what we did?”

  “I don’t regret it. That said, I can’t give you what you want, Hope. I’m the dark fairy tale.”

  My fingers reach out, brushing over his lips. At my touch, he closes his eyes. “Did you ever think that maybe your darkness is what I want?”

  “It can’t be.” His lids pop open and looks at me. “If my father senses I have a weakness for you, he will kill you without a second thought.”

  “Doesn’t he need me?”

  “Not as much as he needs me.”

  “It’s my choice, Stone.”

  “No. It’s mine. I’m the one caught between the Circles . . . and you.”

  Weariness, coupled with the desire to not be alone, hits me hard.

  Stone lifts the covers, letting me crawl in.

  Come morning light, I’ll probably realize what a bad idea this. But for tonight, in the darkness of his guestroom, I don’t care.

  The moment I lie on my back, I turn my head into the crook of his arm. Stone hooks his arm tighter around me, pulling me onto my side and against his body. When skin meets skin, he exhales a content sigh.

  I slide my palm across his chest and scoot into him as close as I can get. Drowsiness engulfs me, and yet, fear and uneasiness tug at my conscious mind. I close my eyes and my fingertips brush his chest; as they do, realization crosses over me and I sit up with recognition. Holy shit.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Whisper the mark of the damned in Italian,” I say.

  He growls. “It’s late. Go to sleep.”

  “Stone,” I shake him. “Tell me to abandon all hope in Italian, on a whisper.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “Lasciate ogne speranze.”

  I freeze at the sound of his voice releasing the familiar words.

  It’s the same deep whisper I hear each night, before my dreams turn dark.

  It’s Stone’s voice.

  STILLNESS AND CALM

  Hope

  OPENING MY EYES IN THE darkness of the bedroom, I turn to my side, only to find I’m alone. My hand brushes over the indentation left by Stone’s body, his warmth still lingering on the sheet. I sit up against the pillows and last night’s events run through my mind, feeling like a distant dream.

  There is something so beautifully damaged about him.

  To what level he’s damaged, I have no idea.

  I toss the covers to the side, slide out of bed, and make my way to the bathroom to take care of my personal needs. After freshening up and getting dressed, I pad down the stairs to grab coffee and breakfast. As I pass the sunken living room, I stop and notice Stone standing in front of the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. I admire the way he looks in his ripped jeans that hang low from his waist, before taking in his broad shoulders hidden under a long-sleeve white thermal.

  He stretches his neck from side-to-side. He knows I’m here, but he doesn’t look at me.

  “You’ll need to eat something,” he says.

  When I don’t reply, he peers at me with annoyance before returning to the window.

  The wall that had come down the last night is now back up in full force.

  I roll my eyes and walk into the kitchen. A cup of coffee waits for me on the counter, already made the way I like it, along with a plain bagel and cream cheese. Settling onto one of the stools at the island, I inhale the carb-loaded yumminess.

  When I finish chewing my last bite, Stone walks in with a petite Japanese woman. She’s older—maybe in her late fifties—elegant, and pretty. Since I don’t see the inky swirls surrounding her aura, I assume she’s human, which is odd since we’re in the Circles.

  “Hope,” Stone says, “this Kagami. Hendrix has sent her to help you learn about your oracle gifts. To tap into them and control them at will. Whenever you’re ready, she’ll take you to practice today.”

  He shifts. I can see he’s uneasy with someone else being in his home.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I manage after swallowing.

  “Konnichiwa,” she replies. “I speak English too.”

  I smile at her. “What are your plans this morning?” I ask Stone, brightly.

  “I have somewhere to be. Stay in the penthouse and you’ll be safe with Kagami.”

  “Is that so?”

  “That is so. Amongst her many talents, Kagami is a shogun samurai,” he says, granting her a beautiful smile, full of respect. One that he’s never bestowed upon me. Ever.

  My stomach twists at their familiarity and his obvious adoration.

  “Where are you going?” I inquire, desperate to hold his attention.

  “I have some business I need to take care of, and where I am going, they will not take kindly to a human escort.” His voice is cold and packed with displeasure.

  My heart clenches and frustration runs through me at the way he’s dismissing me.

  “Fine. Have fun then.”

  He grinds his teeth. “Kagami, would you kindly wait for Hope in the Zen gardens? I need to have a word with her.”

  The woman’s gaze floats between us before she bows her head and disappears.

  Stone stands taller and crosses his arms. “You are being rude to Hendrix’s chosen.”

  My bout of jealousy stunts my ability to respond with tact. “Sorry. I didn’t real—”

  He looks around, irritation clear on his face before he takes a step toward me. With one last glance around the kitchen, he surprises me by taking my face in his palms.

  Leaning in, Stone places a soft kiss to my lips. “When others are around, we are nothing.”

  I narrow my eyes, angered at his declaration.

  He smirks at my annoyance and lifts my face to look me in the eyes. “Privately . . . you are quickly becoming everything.”

  My mouth falls open when I step onto the rooftop. Kagami motions for me to remove my shoes and join her on the pure white, painstakingly groomed sand. I take in the tiny lakes and islands covered with moss and precisely manicured grasses and shrubs, and I’m left in awe.

  She waves me over to her. “Come. We will begin in the karesansui.”

  I shake my head, letting her know I don’t know what that is.

  The woman frowns, searching her mind. “Rock garden.”

  “Oh, okay.” I step to her side, following as she walks through the simple design.

  “Are you familiar with Zen gardens?”

  “There was one at Shadowbrook . . .” I trail off.

  Kagami waits patiently. I study her face, there is no judgment in it.

  I change course. “I don’t know much about their meaning or history.”

  “They tend to contain elements that are intended to inspire meditation and contemplation. The large stones represent mountains, and sometimes waterfalls. The raked pebbles evoke waves, reminding you of the ebb and flow of energy,” she explains.

  Her voice is gentle and calm, almost lulling.

  “It’s really quite simplistic in its beauty.”

  “This is Stone’s quiet place, intended to represent nature’s spirit.”

  My brow arches. “He comes here?”

  “Every morning. For contemplation and reflection.”

  “The Prince of the Nine Circles h
as a garden for . . . contemplation?”

  A small smile graces her lips. “He has been seeking a name for this place. Perhaps you should recommend the garden of contemplation. It is a good name.”

  We make our way to an enclosure with a pond and two bridges.

  “Why are there two bridges side by side?”

  “One is for entering the pavilion. The other is for exiting,” she clarifies. “It is considered very bad energy to enter and leave a meditation pavilion in the same way.”

  “I didn’t know that.” I offer her an appreciative smile.

  “This complex was designed to mirror Daitoku-ji, known to some as the Academy of the Great Immortals. The original was built in China in the sixteenth century.” She points to a smaller rock garden, which includes two cone-shaped hills made of white gravel, and a few smaller landscaped arrangements. “The design represents a waterfall, as many rock gardens do. This one shows a metaphorical journey of life. The beginning of the rocks signify birth, and the path leads to the two gravel rivers, scattered with the larger boulders, denoting life’s obstacles. The bed of raked pebbles is the metaphorical river flowing into an open ocean, indicating the end of life.”

  I inhale slowly, taking in the calm of it all—amazed that Stone always manages to find beauty in the darkness.

  We approach the small building and she slides open the shoji doors, allowing us to step inside the open room before she closes them behind us. An open window overlooks the rock gardens and two mats sit in front of it, which she motions to.

  “This is where we learn. To breathe. To foresee. To become one with your mind.” Kagami’s accent is alluring and her voice is peaceful.

  “Before we begin, may I ask how you know Hendrix?”

  A shy expression falls across her face. “I am his chosen.”

  “Is that why he sent you?”

  “I was chosen because of my name. In Japanese, it means clear-minded.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t because you are human?”

  “Hendrix believes in soul spirit guidance. So, yes, perhaps he thought we’d connect.”

 

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