Jewel of the Sun's Blood Destiny

by Bekki Lynn

  “I had to talk you.” He kissed the tip of her nose, sending shivers through her. “It didn’t end.” His lips brushed hers. “Grandpa…Oh, god!” Her back arched as his slow, deep thrusts sparked spasms. She nipped his chin. “We have to talk—” She sighed when he found the sensitive spot below her bottom lip. “I’ve needed this…you—”

  “Talk tomorrow.” He covered her mouth with his, moving over it with a hunger she felt spiral through her, drawing whimpers. The reason she came didn’t matter now. Her body was receiving what it screamed for and more as his fingers skimmed down her sides. He grabbed her hips and took her with him as he rolled onto his back. She found herself straddling him.

  Under lowered lashes, she watched his eyes roam over her breasts. She ached for him to touch them, wrap his warm fingers around them and draw them to his mouth. Somehow, he knew and his fingers were there, tweaking her nipples as she rode the hard shaft drawing passion-filled moans from her. He held on to her hips and pounded into her, slowed and drew her breasts down to her his mouth. He took a nipple in his mouth, suckling on the tips with a straight connection to the core of her need. “Oh, Elan,” she breathed. It felt so fantastic. She watched his mouth work her nipples, felt them strain when he left one to feast on the other. Oh, god, she wanted to feel his tongue run through the wetness of her pussy. Shudders floated through her. Her body wobbled from the torturous need.

  When she could no longer control the moans, the extreme need, she pulled from his mouth and eased up over his face for him to wash his tongue through her dripping lips. His mouth pressed into her, his tongue darting in and out of her tunnel, swirling around the flesh of her folds and snaking back inside. Her hands hit the wall. “Oh, god, don’t stop! Oh, yeah…that’s it…aw,” she breathed. Her thighs flexed, her head fell against the wall. “Oh… so good.” He lifted her, letting space come between them and it felt empty and breezy as his heavy breathing floated by.

  “Drain my cock, Cassandra,” he said with hot, thick passion.

  He didn’t need to repeat the request. She turned around, gave him her pussy back and took his cock in one swallow, pulled off to the tip, bathed around the head with her tongue and down the shaft. His moans vibrated against the swollen softness of her pussy and she pressed into him as she sucked hard and fast. She swallowed the pre-cum, sucked harder and deeper, drawing his hips up off the floor. She could feel him panting against her sensitized flesh and knew he was close. His first load shot and went straight down her throat. Cupping his balls, she massaged the firmness, knowing he had much more for her. She swallowed and sucked, drawing it up until he had nothing left.

  Elan latched on her pussy, lapping, grazing with his teeth. Nothing, nothing, nothing…she couldn’t finish the thought when he found her clit and sucked hard and deep. Heat seared her and she rocked with the depth of the orgasm. She didn’t want the end-be-all-end orgasm, not yet and lifted, causing him to groan and pull her back. He laved the hard nub, circled it and drew it between his lips, bouncing the tip of this tongue against it. Her lungs felt like they filled and stalled, her chest hurt, but she couldn’t exhale as her body strained against his probing tongue. Then his fingers hit her inner wall and air gushed from her lungs in a deep guttural moan as he toppled her over the mountain. She floated and he grazed with his teeth. “Oh, god!” escaped as convulsions, shudders and liquid fire all rushed through her. He gripped her ass, pressing her tight against him as he sucked, drawing out the orgasm.

  When all she could do was collapse over him, he caressed her legs, her thighs while lapping up her cum until she could move. She rolled off him and lay there, taking deep breaths as she fought the urge to sleep. Sleep would be good. With him, she could sleep. “Take me to your bed,” she mumbled.

  He sat up, watching her, but she was too exhausted to wonder what went on behind the unreadable expression. “You need sleep.”

  She nodded. “Haven’t been getting any.”

  “You will now.”

  “Yes,” she said when he scooped her up into his arms and stood with ease. She snuggled against him and heard the shrill meow and hiss of protest when Elan opened the door, taking them into the kitchen. “We scared her?”

  “Maybe so.”

  Without more words, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the movement of his body as he moved through room and up the stairs. When he lowered her to the bed, she moaned, turned over and felt the fur rub against her face as darkness took her.

  Chapter 13

  Elan went to pull the sheet over her and she cocked her knee out to the side. A dark spot drew his attention. He’d never noticed it before. Running his fingers over it, he felt it. There was a slight raise to it. Curious, he looked closer. Hell! He backed away, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. He hurried downstairs to his drawing pad and turned to the page he’d drawn the first time he envisioned her. It was there right where he’d drawn it.

  A heavy weight went with him when he returned to his room. He studied the birthmark on her thigh again and went to the bathroom. In the mirror, he looked at his—studied it. She bore the missing tip of the birthmark he had, the completion of the arrowhead. Not even the God’s could have had a hand in this. It was too much, too precise, too…convenient.

  Walking back out into the room, he watched her, unable to think. After a while, he covered her, feeling, in a way, more content than he had since she left his bed almost twenty days ago. The feeling wasn’t one he enjoyed. She was too damn vulnerable.

  He raked his fingers through his hair as he studied the feminine shape through the sheet. Damn her. No real good come from what was happening. He didn’t want a woman who could tear a hole in his patched heart.

  He sighed. She was right. The night they spent together to thwart the plans of their grandfather’s hadn’t broken the spell. It strengthened the bond between them. Now, they had to figure out what to do about it. He needed to talk to his grandfather, his uncle Nartan, soon. Right now, his schedule was too heavy to fly out and plead his case.

  Sassy stared up at him from where she lay stretched out beside the woman who fit him in ways he didn’t want to think about. The green cat eyes were sleepy, but watchful. Even she liked Cassandra while she hadn’t any other woman before her. He reached down and ran his hand down the length of her back. “Watch over her, girl. I’ll return.”

  He retraced the path to the mudroom and gathered up their clothing, hung her coat on a hook and went to lock the outer door and on a hunch, opened it to test with his palm. No barrier. They weren’t barred from separating. The meaning was unclear, but his chest filled with fear. He shut the door and turned the lock. Were they given a choice or was their fate sealed? While he tried to wrap his mind around the possibilities of what the answer was, he headed back to his room where his Evening Sun lay spent from the whirlwind sex. He could let her sleep and leave as she’d done before, or he could make love to her until the full moon. His breathing rattled deep within his chest.

  Upstairs, he held up the nightshirt she’d been wearing to right it. The softness of the cotton and flowers suited her. He sniffed it. Her soft, feminine scent aroused him. He laid it over the back of the wingback chair and set her purse down on the seat. It fell over and an old jewelry case slipped out. Figuring it was something from the pawnshop, he opened it to see what had caught her interest.

  The sight of the old necklace tightened his shoulders. With gentle fingers, he lifted it from the box. He sat down, looking at the familiar design in disbelief. How… where did it come from? The sterling silver was old and needed cleaned, but where did it come from?

  He looked over at Cassandra when he heard a soft moan. He saw her hands tighten around the pillow in her grasp. The shallow rise of her back quickened and he heard her breath hitch before she turned over with a raised knee, her heel digging into the mattress. His cock throbbed as he watched her come alive, knowing what he’d been experiencing had a hold of her as well. He stared down at the necklace then put it
back in the box. Answers would come, but for now…

  Elan tossed the sheet aside, ignoring the protest of his feline companion. He slipped between Cassandra’s legs and entered her as she rose up to meet him. “My Evening Sun’s passion flows like the white river of the canyon.” Her hands grabbed his arms as her eyes opened, peering into his. “To the never ending pools of clear spring waters, its purity is our destiny. To cleanse and open our hearts to the ways of the Apache people.” The words poured from him, but he didn’t know where they came from, nor had the power to stop them. “We are connected to the past.” She spoke with him. “We are connected to the future. Together we’re bound in history, love and lust to forever be the united offspring of destiny’s blood.”

  Her legs came around him as she thrust up to him. He lowered, claiming her mouth with his, tongues dancing around the fire scorching through him. She scraped her nails down his back and arched into him. He rose up, taking her with him, plunging his cock deep and hard, their gasps, their pants and their moans filling the depths of the room as they reached the stars beyond the moon. She whimpered when the first wave of an orgasm hit her and held her moisture covered body to his, feeling her heart beat with fervor.

  “Sear me, my Apache love. My body craves the pain from your loins. In time the fruit shall bear your name and hold your pride.”

  Tears streamed down his face as she chanted against his beating heart. The seed bearing the pain she desired spilled into her, leaving him trembling with emotions and confusion.

  Elan lay holding her as neither spoke. She snuggled against him and he was sure she slept right away. He feared sleep, feared he’d wake to find himself spent, but not because she’d come to him.

  He wondered about the words they’d spoken. Where had they come from? The blood destiny? He kissed the top of her head, filled with mixed emotions he knew he had to sort out. What was happening was not their reality, but one put upon them. One he never wished for, but was seeping beneath the barrier he’d built. Slipping from the bed, he pulled the comforter over her and grabbed his bathrobe from the hook of his closet door before going downstairs.

  Lighting a fire in the fireplace, he sat watching the flames reach up and kiss the logs. It calmed the part of him frightened of the spiritual warfare happening on their behalf. He had to find a way to protect her. Hell, he had to protect himself. He hadn’t spent all these years trying to be a regular member of society only to be drug back to his people. He loved them, but their ways were not his. He’d wanted more.

  When the fire burned down, he knelt to stoke it and lay another log on it, his mind clear, his spirit wired. He sat the poker in the stand. “Now we talk,” he said, sensing her.

  Cassandra moved up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Silent as a cat on prey, and hearing as astute as dog.” She knelt beside him and handed him the jewelry box. “This belonged to your Aunt Nikita.”

  He looked at her as he took it. The light of the flames danced over her face. His heart fluttered with feelings threatening to melt his resolve.

  Without a word, Elan took the necklace from the box. The likeness of the design still puzzled him. If this was his great aunt’s necklace, he had no memory of it. He didn’t recall anyone mentioning a missing necklace when she died, but then he was a young man.

  “Explain. Tell me why you have the necklace of my aunt.” He looked at her and waited.

  Cassandra swallowed, looking up at him with worried, crystal blue eyes. “She was my grandmother’s best friend. I have no shadow of her in my memory.” When she repositioned to face him, he turned and sat on the hearth to see her as she spoke. “The similarity in the designs rattled my grandfather’s memory and he found pictures of her wearing it.”

  She reached out and fingered the necklace as the light of the fire glistened off her eyes. The seriousness he saw gave him a sense of what she had to tell him was a piece to the puzzle he needed. Her breasts rose and fell and the sheet she had wrapped around her slipped, revealing more of her tempting flesh. He forced himself to ignore the distraction. She turned her face toward the fire as she bit down on her bottom lip. With a gentle finger, he turned her face back to his and caressed her lips with his thumb, to stop her from drawing blood. She kissed the pad as her eyes watered.

  “I don’t know what to make out of all this, Elan. I came here to give you the necklace, hoping…I don’t know. I thought if it had anything to do with this connection, these sexual…Hell, I don’t know what to call them. They’re real and not real and I can’t take the sleepless nights…the sex without it being…in this realm.” She blew out on a sigh. “I thought maybe if you have this, being a member of the family, returned full circle or something, it would all stop.”

  He narrowed his eyes, staring into the depths of hers. His heart twisted at the pain all this has caused her. She was innocent, more innocent than he was in all this. His people were doing what they do. Arranging marriages was common among them, but they stepped over the boundary this time. Her grandfather should have known better. He brushed an escaped tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why they’ve done this.”

  “Grandpa said something about blood brothers who promised their first born would marry. Us, we’re their first born. They, our fathers, were kids, but…” She reached up, took his hand from her face, and held onto it. “They couldn’t have been serious. They had to have playing off of something they heard.”

  Blood brothers, their fathers, some things were starting to make sense. He tried to do a memory recall and see if his father had ever mentioned or hinted at any such pact. Were she and him…What did they call it? Sandbox buddies. Nothing came to the forefront of his mind. He had no recall of her family in his childhood. He later learned her grandfather and his were good friends. Her hand slipping from his brought his attention back to her.

  “Your aunt gave the necklace to my grandmother with the instructions to present it to her Mesa on her, my, wedding day.” She caressed the peridot encased in old sterling silver. “Grandpa said she’d said it would ward off the pain to come. This was the second time in a month I’ve been told I’ll need peridot for healing.” Her eyes met his. “What does everyone know that I don’t? What’s supposed to be so awful I’ll need a healing connection?”

  A log fell, drawing their attention. He made sure it still sat in the grate and turned back to her. Elan studied her. So much unknown, unsaid, but his mind had become clear. He’d wanted to fight it. Dispel it and demand it be undone. Too late. “Cassandra, what’s done can’t be broken.”

  “It has to. These sexual interludes aren’t real, but real enough. I found my bathrobe wet and dirty like it would have been had we’d had sex on the landing outside my door, tonight.”

  His back stiffened as he recalled the dream he’d had. “You were standing on the landing. You held no hesitation.”

  “But it wasn’t real.”

  “Not in the sense of us sitting her right now.” Elan rested his forearms on his thighs, staring at the necklace in his hands. More than his head was wrapping around the ramifications. He was beginning to understand why the necklace wasn’t kept within the family. It would have been a treasured piece, but as much as Cassandra had captivated him as a woman, his aunt had been enamored with the innocence of a small child. Mesa, the unmined Mesa Peridot. He recalled her talking of it. The magic stone, he’d heard her call it. “My Mesa possesses the magic of the stone. One day you’ll want it, my proud one.” His breath caught. He heard Aunt Tikita’s deep voice as if she was standing before him. She used to tell him this whenever she returned from town. He’d thought she meant one day he’d want to leave the reservation and make his home in Mesa. He felt the pounding of his heart in his ears. She hadn’t meant the gem at all. She had paired him Cassandra. And to follow the pattern he saw the whole picture. They were the center of a triad of spiritual matchmakers, their fathers, their grandfathers, and he was sure her grandmother was in line with his great aunt.


  He looked at the woman beside him, moved to his knees, and placed the necklace around her neck. “You must wear it,” he whispered.

  “No. I can’t take any more of these nights.”

  “Cassandra—” He cradled her head, brushing his lips across hers. “Stay by the fire.”

  Several moments passed before he returned to the room. He halted when he heard Sassy hissing at Cassandra. She stood on the couch, her back arched and fur spiked. The cup of his special tea he’d made to calm her started to slip from his hand, but he caught it, ignoring the heat of the liquid spilling over his hand. Swirls of gray and white floated around her. It would have frightened him if he hadn’t become accustomed to the invasion. He moved forward, unsure what might happen. They moved, turning toward him. The cup fell to the floor as the face of his aunt grinned at him. Then they were gone.

  “I have this insatiable hunger for you.”

  Cassandra’s words registered as did the way she pulled on the sheet, causing it to fall open, but what he’d seen interested him, too. “Could you sense them, feel them?”

  “Who?”

  “The hovering spirits.” He shook his head and watched the corners of her mouth turn up while her fingers caressed the necklace. The Sterling Silver did nothing for the gem, but against her flesh she was a goddess.

  “Come to me,” she whispered.

  His erection hardened beyond comfort. He moved to her, yanking her up against him, devouring her mouth, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth. She wound her arms around his neck as she pressed into his aching hardness. She rose on her tiptoes and he lifted her, setting her down on his ridged length, moaning in the depths of her throat. Her cavern was hot, wet and flexing around him, urging him to move, to thrust, to fulfill the desire.

  She pulled from his mouth, tipping her head back as she grasped his shoulders. “He’s home. He’s real.” He reached for her breast with his mouth and latched onto the hard tip, nipping before he suckled. “Oh, my Apache Love,” she moaned. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her breast as he lowered them to the floor.