Julian's entire body trembled from the amount of force he was using to keep his clothes on his body. He wanted to be inside her so badly that it was slowly shredding his sanity.
With every thrust of his hips against hers, he wanted to cry out from the agony of unspent lust. It was the most bittersweet torture he had ever experienced. Worse, he felt her hands roaming over his back before she slid them into his back pockets and squeezed him tightly.
He shuddered from it.
"Yes, oh yes," she murmured as he quickened his strokes.
Julian's head spun. He had to get inside her. And if he couldn't do it one way, then by all the temples in Athens, he would get in another way.
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Tearing away from her, he moved lower, trailing his lips over her belly to her hip as he pulled her underwear from her. Grace's entire body shook from his unyielding power. "Please," she murmured, unable to take any more.
He nudged her legs farther apart. Grace obliged. He placed his hands under her, then lifted her hips up to let her legs fall over his shoulders. Her eyes flew wide the instant he took her into his mouth.
Burying her hands in his hair, Grace threw her head back and hissed in pleasure as his pulsating tongue stroked her intimately. Never had she felt anything like it. Over and over, in and out, he delved and licked and tormented, making her breathless.
Weak.
Julian closed his eyes and growled low in his throat as he tasted her for the very first time. And he reveled in it. The sound of her murmured pleasure echoed in his ears.
He could feel her body respond to every careful, sensual lick he delivered to her.
Indeed, he felt the quivering in her thighs and buttocks against his cheeks and shoulders.
She writhed sensuously in response to him. His breathing ragged, he wanted to show her exactly what she had been missing. When she left this room tonight, she would never again flinch from his touch.
Grace moaned as he moved his hand slightly and dipped his thumb inside her while he continued to tease her with his tongue.
"Julian!" she gasped as her body involuntarily shook and shivered.
He moved his thumb and tongue even faster, deeper. Swirling and swirling, delving and caressing. Her head swam at the feel of his whiskers gently scraping between her thighs, rubbing her between her legs.
And just when she thought she could take no more of it, her release came so fiercely that she threw her head back and screamed from the deep, cascading waves of Dark Hunter Series (1) – Fantasy Lover – Sherrilyn Kenyon Page 158 of 340
pleasure that rippled through her.
And still he continued, driving her pleasure on until she climaxed again, hard on the heels of the first one. When he did it to her a third time, she thought she might very well perish from it.
Weak and more than spent, she rolled her head back and forth against the pillow as he continued his relentless pace. "Please, Julian, please," she begged as her body continued to spasm from his touch. "I can't take any more.”
Only then did he withdraw. Her breathing ragged, she throbbed from the top of her head, all the way down to the very tips of her toes. She'd never in her life known such intense pleasure.
He kissed a slow path back up her body, before he buried his lips against her throat.
"Tell me the truth, Grace," he breathed in her ear. "Have you ever felt that before?”
“No," she whispered honestly, doubting few, if any, women had ever experienced anything like what he'd just done to her. "I had no idea.”
His eyes hungry, he stared at her as if he still wanted to devour her. Grace felt his erection against her hip and realized he hadn't released himself. He had kept his word to her.
Her heart hammering at the knowledge, she wanted to help him experience what she had. Or at least a close proximity of it. Reaching down, she started to unbutton his pants.
He caught her hand, then moved it to his lips where he kissed her palm sweetly. "It's a nice thought, but don't bother.”
“Julian," she said chidingly. "I know it gets really painful for men if they don't—”
“I can't," he insisted, interrupting her.
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She frowned. "Can't what?"
"I can't orgasm.”
Her jaw dropped at his words. Surely he wasn't serious? And yet his eyes were deadly earnest.
"It's part of the curse," he said. "I can give you pleasure, but if you touch me right now, you'll only make me hurt more.”
Aching for him, she reached out and placed her hand against his cheek. "Then why did you do—"
"Because I wanted to.”
She didn't believe it. Not for a minute. She dropped her hand away from him and looked away. "You had to, you mean. It's part of the curse, too, isn't it?”
He caught her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him. "No. I'm fighting the curse, otherwise I'd be inside you right now.”
"I don't understand.”
"Neither doIl," he said, his gaze searching hers as if she held the answer. "Just lie with me," he whispered. "Please.”
Grace winced at the pain she heard behind that simple request. Her poor Julian.
What had they done to him? How could anyone do such a thing to someone like him?
He picked up the book from the bed and placed it in her hands. "Read to me."
She opened the book while Julian piled the pillows up against the headboard.
He lay back, then leaned her against his side. Without a word, he covered them with Dark Hunter Series (1) – Fantasy Lover – Sherrilyn Kenyon Page 160 of 340
a blanket, and cradled her tenderly with his arm. The smell of sandalwood filled her head as she started reading to him of Wendy and Peter Pan. They lay like that for over an hour.
"I love the sound of your voice. The way you speak," he said as she paused to turn another page. Grace smiled. "I have to say the same of you. You have the most killer accent I've ever heard.”
He took the book from her hands and placed it on the nightstand. Grace looked up at him. Molten desire filled his eyes as he stared at her face with a hunger that stole her breath.
Then, to her amazement, he kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. He reached over and grabbed her remote, then dimmed the lights to their lowest setting. Grace didn't know what to say as he snuggled up against her back and just held her close.
He brushed her hair back from her face and laid his head above hers. "I love the way you smell," he whispered, his arms tightening around her.
"Thank you," she whispered.
She wasn't sure, but she thought he might be smiling at her.
Grace snuggled even closer to his warmth, but his jeans rubbed against her bare legs. "Are you comfortable in your clothes? Shouldn't you change?"
"No," he said quietly. "This way I know my spoon will stay away from your—”
“Don't you say it!" she said with a laugh. "No offense, your brother is disgusting.”
“I knew I liked you for a reason.”
Grace took the remote from his hand. "Good night, Julian.”
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“Good night, my sweet.”
She switched off the light. Instantly, she felt Julian tense around her, heard his breathing change into short, sharp intakes. He pulled away from her.
"Julian?”
He didn't respond. Worried, she turned the lights back on to see him, leaning on his arms, braced and locked, to support his upper body. His forehead damp from perspiration, his eyes were wild and panicked as he struggled to breathe.
"Julian?”
He looked around the bedroom as if he had awakened from some terrifying nightmare. She watched as he lifted one hand and placed it against the wall above the headboard as if to assure himself it was real and not a hallucin
ation.
Licking his lips, he rubbed his hand over his chest and swallowed hard. It was then, she knew. It was the darkness. That was why he had only dimmed the lights. "I'm so sorry, Julian. I didn't think.”
He didn't speak. Grace pulled him into her arms, amazed at the way a man as strong as this one held on to her as if he couldn't let go. Julian laid his head against her breasts.
Clenching her teeth, she felt tears sting her eyes. And in that moment, she knew she could never let him go back into that book. Never. Somehow, they would beat this curse. And when it was over, she hoped Julian got his own revenge against the ones responsible.
Chapter 9
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Grace remained still for hours, listening to Julian breathe, calmly, peacefully, as he slept behind her. He had one thigh nestled snugly between her legs and one arm draped over her waist.
The feel of his body around hers made her throb with longing. And his scent It was
all she could do not to turn over and bury her nose in the warm, spicy scent of his skin. No one had ever made her feel like this. So wanted, so secure. So desirable.
And she wondered how that could be, given the fact that they barely knew each other. Julian touched something inside her on a level that went beyond the physical.
He was so strong, so commanding. And funny. He made her laugh and he wrung her heart.
She reached out and ran her fingers lightly over his hand that lay in front of her, just below her chin. He had such beautiful hands. Long and tapered. Even when they were relaxed in sleep, the power of them was undeniable. And the magic they could work on her body
It was nothing short of miraculous.
She ran her thumb over his general's ring and wondered what Julian had been like back then. Unless the curse had altered his physical age, he didn't appear very old.
Certainly, not much more than thirty.
How had he ever led an army at such a young age? But then, Alexander the Great had barely been old enough to shave when he'd started his campaigns.
Julian must have been fabulous on the battlefield. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine him on his horse, riding out against his enemies. She had a vivid image of him in his armor, his sword raised as he fought hand to hand against the Romans.
"Iason?”
She tensed as she heard him whisper in his sleep. Rolling over, she looked at him.
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"Julian?”
He tensed behind her and started speaking in a jumbled mixture of English and ancient Greek. "Don't! Okhee! Okhee! No!”
He sat straight up in bed. She couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. Instinctively, she touched his arm. With a curse, he grabbed her and pulled her over his body. He threw her back against the mattress. His eyes were wild as he held her down, his lips curled.
"Damn you!" he snarled.
"Julian," she gasped as his grip on her arm tightened and she tried to make him let her go. "It's me, Grace!”
"Grace?" he repeated, his brows drawing together into a deep frown as he focused on her face. Blinking, he pulled back from her. He lifted his hands and stared at them as if they were alien appendages he'd never seen before.
He looked at her. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, I'm fine. Are you all right?" He didn't move.
"Julian?" She reached for him.
He pulled back from her as if she were poisonous. "I'm fine. It was just a bad dream.”
“A bad dream or a bad memory?”
“A bad memory that always haunts my dreams," he whispered, his voice laden with grief. He got out of bed. "I should sleep somewhere else.”
Grace caught his arm before he could leave, and pulled him back toward the bed. "Is that what you've always done in the past?”
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He nodded.
"Have you ever told anyone about the dream?”
Julian stared aghast at her. What did she take him for? Some sniveling child that needed its mother? He'd always borne his anguish inside. As he'd been taught. It was only when he slept that the memories were able to sneak past his defenses.
Only when he slept that he was weak.
In the book, there was no one to hurt when his nightmare came upon him. But once released from his prison, he knew better than to sleep at the side of someone he might inadvertently grab while in the throes of it.
He could have accidentally killed her. That thought terrified him.
"No," he whispered. "I've never told anyone."
"Then tell me.”
“No," he said firmly. "I don't want to relive it."
"If you're reliving it every time you dream, then what's the difference? Let me in, Julian. Let me see if I can help.”
Dare he even hope that she could? You know better. And yet He wanted to purge the demons. He wanted to sleep one night in peaceful slumber, free of torment. "Tell me," she gently insisted.
Grace sensed his reluctance as he rejoined her in bed. He remained seated on the side, his head in his hands. "You asked me earlier how I became damned. I was cursed because I betrayed the only brother I ever knew. The only family I ever had.”
His anguish reached deep inside her. She wanted desperately to run her hand over Dark Hunter Series (1) – Fantasy Lover – Sherrilyn Kenyon Page 165 of 340
his back in a comforting manner, but didn't dare touch him lest it make him withdraw again. "What did you do?”
He ran his hand through his hair, then balled his fist in it. His jaw more rigid than steel, he stared at the carpet. "I allowed envy to poison me.”
"How?”
He paused for a long minute before he spoke again. "I met Iason not long after my stepmother sent me to live in the barracks.”
She vaguely remembered Selena telling her about the Spartan barracks where sons were forced to live away from their homes and families. She'd always thought of them as a kind of boarding school. "How old were you?”
"Seven.”
Unable to imagine being forced from her parents at that age, Grace gasped.
"There was nothing unusual about it," he said without looking at her. "And I was big for my age. Besides, life at the barracks was infinitely preferable to living with my stepmother.”
She heard the venom in his voice and wondered what the woman had been like. "I take it Iason lived in the barracks with you?”
"Yes," he whispered. "Each barracks was divided up into groups where we chose the boy we wanted to lead us. Iason was the leader of my group.”
"What did these groups do?”
"We functioned like a military unit. We studied, performed chores, but most of all, we banded together to survive.”
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She started at such a harsh word. "Survive what?"
The Spartan lifestyle," he said, his voice laced with acrimony. "I don't know how much you know about my father's people, but they didn't have the luxuries of the other Greeks.
"The Spartans only wanted one thing from their sons. They wanted us to grow into the strongest fighting force of the ancient world. To prepare us for our future, we were taught how to survive with only the barest of necessities. We were given one tunic to last us the year, and if it became damaged or lost or we outgrew it, we had to go without one. We were only permitted a bed provided we made it ourselves. And once we reached puberty, we were no longer allowed shoes for our feet.”
He laughed bitterly. "I can still remember how badly my feet would ache in the winter. We were forbidden a fire or blanket to keep us warm, so we tied rags around our feet at night to keep them from frostbite. Then, in the morning, we would carry away the bodies of the boys who had died of exposure in their sleep.”
Grace cringed at the world he was describing. She tried to im
agine what it must have been like to live in it. Worse, she remembered the fit she'd pitched at age thirteen for a pair of eighty-dollar shoes her mother had said were too mature for her, while at the same age, Julian would have been scrounging for rags. The injustice of it cut her.
"You were just children.”
“I was never a child," he said simply. "But worst of all, we were never given much food to eat, so we were forced to steal or to starve.”
"And parents allowed this?”
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