It’s true, he thought in shocked wonder. My libido is being dictated by hers.
“Open your mind to me, Ryan,” she ordered as she drew near him. “Let me feel what you’re feeling.”
He couldn’t have ignored her request if he’d wanted to. And, God help him, he didn’t want to, because he knew intuitively what was going to happen. Her passion would feed on his response to her, and his passion would feed on her reaction to him, until they both were so turned on they’d be frenzied.
When she came to a stop in front of him, he drew in a deep breath and did as she asked. He opened his mind to her and let her feel what he was feeling. She gasped softly and dropped her head back, exposing the elegant column of her throat and thrusting her breasts toward him.
He stared at her roseate nipples. They were taut, and he wanted to lean forward and draw one into his mouth. He wanted to taste it and tease it. He wanted to nuzzle it and lave it. And then he would move to the other breast. When he was through tormenting it, he’d move lower, and . . .
Suddenly, desire exploded inside Shana. It ricocheted immediately to his own groin, and he became so hard that he groaned from the ardent pressure. He wanted to grab Shana and throw her to the bed. He wanted to take her fast and hard until they were both screaming in climax.
Instead, he balled his hands into fists and kept his arms at his sides. He instinctively knew the rules, and they were very simple. Shana got to explore him first. Only when she was done would he be allowed to touch her.
It was as if she’d been waiting for that acknowledgment. The instant he completed the thought, she raised a hand and placed it against the center of his chest. She fingered the amulet, and then slowly, torturously, she smoothed her hand across his skin until she came to one of his nipples. She let her palm rest against it, and then she stroked her thumb across it. He stiffened and barely suppressed another groan as a new explosion of desire hit them both. It was like being on a sexual roller coaster. Her passion making him hot; his passion making her hotter.
Before he could even catch his breath, she leaned forward and licked his nipple, while trailing her hand down his abdomen. As impossible as it seemed, his penis grew even harder. He couldn’t remember ever being this aroused, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to take much more.
“Of course you can take more,” Shana assured throatily. “Much, much more.” And then she stroked him through the fabric of his shorts.
Ryan’s knees nearly buckled, and he cursed. He was so near ejaculation that it took every ounce of his willpower to regain control. His precarious condition didn’t slow Shana down. She dropped to her knees in front of him and slipped her fingers beneath the elastic of his waistband.
As she slowly stripped them down his legs, he leaned his head back and rasped, “Dear God, Shana! You’re killing me!”
“This isn’t death, Ryan. This is life, and this is the way it will always be between us.”
As she took him in her hand and began to stroke him, he cursed again, and then kept on cursing. It was the only way he could keep from coming. He was sure she couldn’t torture him any worse than this, but then she took him into her mouth.
Ryan knew he had hit his limit, and he tangled his hands in her hair and held her head still. Then he slowly extricated himself, reached down and pulled her to her feet. Lifting her into his arms, he laid her on the bed and lowered himself over her.
Staring into her eyes, he declared gruffly, “Now it’s my turn.”
Shana opened her mouth to object to Ryan’s arbitrary takeover of their lovemaking. But when his lips sealed over hers and his tongue thrust into her mouth, she forgot everything but sensation. She had never experienced anything like this. She felt as if he were devouring her.
When he suddenly pulled away from the kiss, she moaned a protest. But he lowered his head to her breast, and her moan turned into a gasp of pleasure. She could feel the passion spiraling through him, and it was so intense that his entire body was shaking with the need for release. Knowing that she, and only she, could push him to this degree of passion made her own body tremble.
She wouldn’t have believed that anything could make her more aroused than she already was, but as he honored her breast, his hand glided down her abdomen and slid beneath the fabric of her panties. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, she felt as if her body was going to explode. As he began to lightly tease her clitoris with his fingers, she urgently rocked against his hand, barely able to breathe as he quickly propelled her toward climax.
“No! Not yet!” he ordered harshly when she neared the edge of the precipice. He quickly sat up and stripped her panties off her. Then his mouth replaced his fingers, and Shana’s entire body arched toward him in desperate need. As his tongue teased and laved her, she tangled her hands in his hair and began to move against him, frenzied and panting for release. Just when she was teetering on the edge of the precipice, he suddenly stopped.
“Ryan! No!” she cried out in disbelief.
“Yes, Shana!” he responded as he rose above her and positioned himself between her thighs. “Yes!” he repeated as he flexed his hips and thrust into her.
Shana was so close to climax that the sharp, tearing pain barely registered. What did register, however, was that Ryan suddenly froze.
“Ryan, please!” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist and arching up against him. “Don’t torment me like this!”
His only response was a muffled curse, and then he moved against her so slowly it was an exquisite torture. When she was sure she was going to die if he didn’t move faster, he picked up his pace. She eagerly matched him thrust for thrust, until she was again poised on the precipice. But no matter how hard she tried to fall over the edge, she couldn’t seem to make it.
“Come with me, Shana,” Ryan urged, lengthening his strokes. “Come with me. Now!” he demanded as he withdrew completely, and then plunged back into her.
As her climax hit and pleasure engulfed her, Shana closed her eyes and cried out in joy and relief. She heard Ryan’s harsh cry of satisfaction a moment later, and she clung to him as he shuddered with his own release. When he collapsed against her, she could only hug him in wonder. Lovemaking had never been better for her. Her mating night was definitely living up to her dreams.
“What do you mean lovemaking has never been better for you?” Ryan growled as he suddenly raised up on his forearms and glared down at her. “You were a virgin!”
She blinked at him, startled by his anger. “I was not a virgin, Ryan. I have engaged in dream lovemaking for years.”
This time, he blinked. “Dream lovemaking? In other words, you fantasize a lot. You pretend to make love.”
She shook her head. “It’s more involved than that. It is as real to the participants as what you and I just shared.”
“But it isn’t physical sex,” he qualified.
“No.”
He scowled at her. “So, I was right. Technically, you were a virgin.”
If you want to get technical, yes.”
“Damn! I don’t believe this,” he railed, as he rolled off her and sat up.
“Why are you so upset?” she asked in confusion, sitting up beside him.
He swung his head toward her and scowled again. “Because, I just took your virginity!”
“You didn’t take anything. I gave myself to you.”
“Well, you should have saved yourself for someone worthwhile,” he snapped, climbing off the bed.
Shana frowned as she watched him walk to his duffel bag. He pulled a pair of jeans out of it and tugged them on. She waited until he turned to face her before saying, “I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”
“Don’t you realize what we’ve done?” he asked in exasperation.
“Yes, we’ve consummated our mating.”
&nb
sp; “Damnit, Shana! We are not married!”
“We may not have gone through the traditional rites, but we are mated, Ryan. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s done and there’s nothing we can do to change it.”
“We are not mates,” he reiterated furiously. “We will never be mates. I don’t want a mate. All I want is—”
“All you want is what?” she prodded when he fell abruptly silent.
Instead of answering, he shook his head. Then he slipped his bare feet into his boots, grabbed his duffel bag off the floor and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked, more confused than ever.
He pulled the door open and then glanced back at her. “As far away from you as I can get.”
Before she could respond, he walked out, slamming the door behind him. What was going on? she wondered in bewilderment. Why was he so angry with her?
The future is mine, and now yours will he mine!
As she saw the card drift to the bed, she cursed. She had enough problems without another of Moira’s troublesome interruptions. She grabbed the card, but even with her keen night vision she couldn’t make it out. She cursed again. If she had her powers, all she would have to do is flick her wrist to turn on the lights. Instead, she would have to go all the way to the door to hit the switch.
As she grabbed the card and climbed out of bed, she suddenly realized just how much she had taken her powers for granted. She missed them, and she wanted them back.
And what if they never come back?
“Of course, they’ll come back,” she grumbled. “Just as soon as we defeat Moira, everything will be back to normal.”
But what if the transfer to Ryan is permanent?
Like so many of her thoughts lately, this one had come out of the blue. Panic fluttered in her stomach, because she suddenly realized where all those inappropriate thoughts were coming from. Moira.
“She couldn’t possibly be right,” Shana whispered frantically as she raced to the wall and hit the light switch. When the lights came on, she glanced down at the card, and her world seemed to tilt. It was The Sun—rebirth—and the warlock grinning joyously up at the benevolently smiling sun had Ryan’s face. What Moira was suggesting was true! Ryan would remain a warlock, and she would stay as powerless as a mortal.
“It’s not true!” she declared hoarsely, her panic veering toward alarm. “Moira is only toying with me. My powers will come back. They will!”
A cold wind suddenly swirled around her, and Moira’s unearthly cackle filled the air as she repeated, The future is mine, and now yours will be mine!
“The hell it will!” Shana yelled angrily. “You had your chance for a future, and you blew it. This future is mine, and I am not going to let you steal it away from me.
She looked around the room, expecting Moira to respond. But, as usual, Moira had hung around just long enough to deliver her bad news.
“I am going to beat you,” Shana said, continuing to search the room for some sign of her nemesis, even though she knew that Moira was gone. How could she disappear so quickly? For that matter, where did she go?
“I will beat you,” she repeated. But she recognized that to do that, she had to know what had happened in the past. I have to find Ryan so we can use the witch stone.”
She ran across the room to the small closet and jerked open the door. Grabbing one of her white ceremonial robes, she pulled it on. In just a couple of hours, everyone would be gathering for the nightly ritual, so there was a chance she might run into someone. If she was wearing the robe, they wouldn’t think twice about seeing her in the woods. They’d simply think she was going to the nightly services. Also, the robe’s hood would shield her face, which was essential. She couldn’t let anyone see her, because they would realize she had mated, and they would mention it to Lucien.
After slipping on her sandals and grabbing her charm bag, which she stuffed into the robe’s pocket, she headed for the kitchen to get the witch stone. She had to find Ryan. The sooner she could take him into the past, the sooner she’d know how to send Moira back to the spirit world where she belonged.
But when she stepped onto the back stoop, she frowned at the woods. Ryan could be anywhere out there, and she couldn’t stumble around in the dark looking for him. Damn! If she just had her powers . . .
But she didn’t have her powers, and if Moira had her way, she never would.
Closing her eyes tightly, she said, “Ryan, please tell me where you are. We need to talk about Moira. It’s important. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll come to you.”
When he didn’t respond, she heaved a disheartened sigh. He was her mate now, and he should feel compelled to respond to her. The fact that he was refusing to answer both hurt her and frightened her. On the surface, he was a warlock, but beneath that facade he was still a mortal What if the mating spell wasn’t enough to bind him to her? What if he really could walk away from her?
The questions were too frightening to think about, so she pushed them aside and concentrated on Moira. After all, if they didn’t defeat her, whether or not he could leave her wouldn’t matter.
“Please tell me where you are, Ryan. We have to talk about Moira. It’s important!”
When he still didn’t respond, she continued to repeat the request over and over until it became a frantic litany.
AS RYAN STRUGGLED through the dense undergrowth, some brambly bushes tore at his bare chest. He muttered a vicious curse. He knew he should stop and finish dressing before he went any farther into the woods. He feared, however, that if he stopped, he’d heed Shana’s frantic summons. She was insisting that it was important they talk about Moira, but he knew that it wasn’t only Moira she wanted to discuss. She wanted to talk about them. Didn’t she remember that he could read her mind? That she couldn’t hide anything from him? Evidently not.
When her pleas continued to torment him, he muttered another curse. Why couldn’t he shut her out of his mind? For that matter, why wouldn’t she leave him the hell alone? Why wouldn’t she just accept that he didn’t want anything to do with her?
Liar. You aren’t running because you don’t want anything to do with her. You’re running because you want everything to do with her, and it scares the hell out of you.
His conscience was right, he admitted, as panic surged through him. He had to get away from Shana and stay away from her. She wanted more from him than he had to offer. More than he could possibly give. All he wanted to do was challenge death until it finally claimed him, and, damn Shana to hell, she was so vibrant, so alive, that she made him want to live!
He began to run, ignoring the bushes that continued to tear at his flesh. Suddenly, the bushes gave way to a small meadow. Panting, he came to a stop, trying to decide which direction to go from here. As long as he kept moving away from her, he could stay away from her,
Keep running, and I’ll kill her!
He shivered as the words echoed through his mind. But it was the dark, shrouded figure that suddenly materialized in the center of the meadow that made his blood run cold. Moira.
“Damnit, what do you want from me?” he yelled at her.
Keep running, and I’ll kill her! she repeated, and then she disappeared.
He shuddered. Though her voice was only in his mind, he had heard the malice in her words. She hadn’t been kidding. But why did she care if he ran away from Shana? It was his soul Moira was after, so why was she insisting on involving Shana in the battle between them?
Unfortunately, only Moira knew the answer. He dropped his duffel bag to the ground in defeat. He had no choice but to connect with Shana. Then he closed his eyes and let his mind meld with Shana’s, promising himself that he’d find a way to keep his distance from her if it killed him.
I’m in the woods, Shana, but I don’t know exactly whe
re.
“FINALLY!” SHANA gasped, leaping to her feet as Ryan’s words flooded into her mind. “Just look around and let me see what you’re seeing, Ryan. I’ll be able to find you.”
When the image of the small meadow sprang into her mind, she knew exactly where he was. Thankfully he hadn’t gone that far from the house. Of course, even if he had gone to the farthest border of coven land, she could have found him. She supposed that was one of the perks of spending your life in a confined space. You became intimately acquainted with every square inch of it.
She hurried down the steps and into the woods. It took her less than five minutes to reach the meadow. When she arrived, however, Ryan was nowhere to be seen. Where was he?
“I’m right here,” he muttered disgruntledly.
She jerked her head toward the sound of his voice, but it still took her a moment to locate him. He was sitting in the shadows across the meadow with his back against a tree trunk.
“What are you doing?” she asked warily, as she walked hesitantly toward him.
“I’m sitting here wondering what the hell’s wrong with me,” he answered. I’ve been a smoker for nearly fifteen years, and I’ve spent a fortune trying to kick the habit, but nothing ever worked. Right now, I want a cigarette so bad I can’t stand it, but just the thought of lighting up makes me ill.”
“That’s one of those warlock idiosyncrasies,” she said. “A warlock’s psyche is conditioned to keep him in top physical shape so he can protect his family. His mind won’t let him develop habits that might damage his body.”
“Well, hell, I guess that’s why the thought of a good, stiff drink also makes me sick to my stomach,” he muttered irritably.
“Alcohol is also taboo,” she agreed. “If you can’t think clearly, you can’t be a good protector.”
“Yeah, well, don’t take this personally, but warlocks sound like a damn stodgy bunch.”
Touch of Magic Page 23
