Aeromancist, The Beginning (SECOND EDITION): Prequel (7 Forbidden Arts Book 2)

by Charmaine Pauls

  “Lann, please let me come.”

  He prolonged the torture, fucking her slowly with his tongue, but denying her the fireworks she craved. When his fingers joined his mouth, she nearly came undone. He rubbed her clit hard, evoking more whimpers and moans. Her stomach tightened. She was so close. Then his mouth was gone, and his cock was at her entrance. With one, hard stroke he pushed inside. Her scream wrapped around them, just as he’d promised it would. He bent over her, gripping the edge of the fountain on either side of her body. He moved slowly, his breath hot on her ear.

  “I’m going to miss this, krasavitsa.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Please, Lann, just let me come. I can’t…”

  He nipped her earlobe. “I said you’d beg, and I said I’d give you all you beg for.”

  He moved his hands over her arms, stroking up to her neck, and folded his fingers around the vulnerable flesh. He didn’t apply pressure. He simply kept his hands steady in a gesture of possession and dominance that she needed more than what she ever imagined.

  He almost pulled out of her, and when he pushed in again he picked up his pace, moving faster and harder. Her breathing was loud and erratic. She tried not to be noisy but it was futile. The more he stretched her, the more she moaned. The more she cried out, the more relentless he became. Her body started preparing for its release, a long, slow electric shock that worked its way from her clit outward.

  “I’m going to come,” she whispered.

  He tightened his fingers around her neck. It wasn’t uncomfortable or scary, but it was slightly harder to pull oxygen into her lungs. It was hot. When she came, it whipped her hard. He eased the grip of his hands when her orgasm reached its peak, and with the rush of air that hit her lungs, she convulsed harder and longer. A second later, he came, emptying himself inside her as he repeated her name.

  When he was spent, he draped his body over hers. They were both reluctant to break their intimate contact.

  “If I could, I’d stay inside you forever,” he said.

  She recognized the regret in his words, and locked it away in her heart like a treasure.

  “Will you sleep in my bed tonight, krasavitsa?”

  Only when she’d promised did he pull his softening cock from her. She straightened, but when she moved her dress over her hips, he caught her hand to still her. He dragged a finger through her folds that were soaked with his seed.

  “I like to mark you like this,” he said.

  She sighed. “I like it too.”

  He released her, pulling her dress down before zipping himself up. His gaze slipped to the junction of her legs. “Can you walk?”

  She gave him a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  Gripping her hair, he jerked her to him. “Maybe I’ll make sure you don’t walk tomorrow.”

  Her breath caught on a hitch. “Is that a promise?”

  “Yes,” he said, lifting her into his arms and heading in the direction of the bedroom.

  Morning came all too soon. Kat had packed her bags and collected her papers and research. No matter how hard, she wanted to be there to say goodbye when Lann left. A part of her hoped he felt something for her, that he would change his mind and ask her for more.

  But when facing him in the entrance at seven, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. He had a disturbed look about him. His eyes were cold, like when he shut himself off from the world, and his smile was automatic, like the first time they’d met in his office.

  Her heart shriveled as a realization hit her. He’d already said his goodbye in the neglected churchyard garden. She ached at the thought when their lovemaking that morning had been so passionate. He’d taken her into his arms at four in the morning and loved her tenderly for a whole two hours. His touch had been gentle, and the words he’d whispered full of poetry. When he’d let her go, it was only because he would’ve otherwise been late for his flight.

  Now he simply stood there staring at her with his hands in the pockets of his summer coat. Alfonso had informed him that his luggage had been taken to the car and that his driver was waiting. The moment had arrived, yet neither of them moved.

  She felt it building, a breakdown that was inevitable, but she wasn’t going to cry now. For that luxury, she’d afford herself privacy. She wouldn’t show him how much it hurt. Knowing she couldn’t hold the tears off much longer, she forced her lips into a smile. A bit of the ice in his comportment cracked. He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace, hugging him tightly. Still, he didn’t speak.

  From somewhere by the door, Alfonso cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Sir. You’ll be late.”

  Lann tensed. She could feel his hesitation as he pulled her even tighter against him, just for a second, before pushing her away.

  “Bon voyage, Lann Dréan,” she said, proud of herself for her unfaltering voice.

  “You can still use the library anytime. You don’t have to wait for Thursdays.” His voice lowered. “You’ll always be welcome.”

  “Thank you.” If he didn’t go now, she was going to lose it in front of him and everyone.

  He brushed a thumb over her knuckles. “My security has cleared the paparazzi. It’s safe to go outside, but wait for my driver. He’ll take you home.”

  She shook her head. “I want to take the metro. I’d appreciate it if he could just drop my things off at home.”

  Lann frowned, but he nodded.

  “Here.” She held the box she clutched in her hand to him.

  A question flashed in his eyes as he took it, and then his frown deepened as he looked down at the velvet box. Even if they both knew what it was, he opened it anyway. He stared at the bracelet and the ring for a moment before lifting his gaze to hers slowly. “I wanted you to have these.”

  “I can’t take the bracelet, Lann. It belonged to your mother. As for the ring … I won’t need it any longer.”

  “If you can’t keep the bracelet, at least keep the ring.” His tone was deep with meaning. “It’ll make me feel better.”

  It wouldn’t make her feel better. She didn’t want anything that would remind her of him. It was easier like that.

  “My other gifts, please tell me you’ve kept them,” he said.

  She’d left the precious book he’d slipped into her dresser drawer with Martina in the library, and the hairclip was still in her room. It belonged there, with her heart.

  “Take care,” she said.

  She waited, but he didn’t say when he’d be back. He didn’t offer her his number in New York. He didn’t ask if he could call her.

  Alfonso opened the door. “Sir.”

  The single word was a silent instruction, strange coming from a butler but not when the butler was Alfonso.

  Lann’s golden gaze travelled over her one last time, and then he turned and left.

  He left.

  She was left alone in the entrance, standing to the side and hugging herself. Through the open door, she saw Alfonso holding the back door of the Jaguar for Lann. Lann folded his tall frame double and slid inside. The windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see his face. She’d probably never see him again. Her breath got stuck in her throat. It ached and throbbed. God, nothing had ever hurt so much.

  As the wheels started rolling, the car moving through the exit and down the road, loneliness grew around her, stretching. Suddenly, the monastery was quiet. There was no one at the reception desk since it was Sunday. It was silent, like the first time the door had closed on the students and Marianne Sullivan, trapping Kat inside. She’d never be able to come back here, would never be able to face the interior, the garden, and the library again.

  Everything she needed—her money, bankcards, identity document, and mobile phone—were in her handbag, slung over her shoulder. She’d left the phone Lann had given her in her room. Her personal belongings would have to come later. She pulled the bag against her body like a shield.

  When Alfonso re-entered, he gave her a look of concern. She couldn’t st
and his pity. She took the first step forward, the second, and the others followed automatically.

  “Miss? Can I get you a cup of coffee? Why don’t you wait for the driver?”

  She played out a brave act. “Thank you, Alfonso. I think I’d like to walk.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for everything. Can you please have my things delivered at home?”

  “Of course, Miss.” He was still contemplating her with a furrowed brow when she walked from the cool shadows of the monastery through the door into the sunlight.

  There were no flashing cameras, no people with notepads or pens. A few men in black suits—Lann’s security guards—stood on the opposite side of the road. When she started walking, they followed. She didn’t care. She barely paid them attention. She didn’t walk to the metro station. She walked a few blocks to a bus stop. Diana had offered to come and fetch her in her car or to let her borrow it as she often did, but Kat had declined. She needed the bright sun of the hot summer’s day to evaporate the cobwebs in her mind. She felt hollow, unreal.

  She stood in the crowd and waited for the bus. It arrived shortly, and she got on like everyone else, telling herself it was just another normal day. Two of the men got onto the bus with her. She contemplated her options, feeling lost. The truth was, the flat she shared with Diana would no longer feel like home.

  At her stop, she got off, and so did the men. They stayed in the street in front of her building when she went inside. Her old room felt foreign, as if she didn’t belong there. At least Diana wasn’t home, and Kat was relieved. She couldn’t face her yet. Falling down onto her bed, she finally let go, crying like never before.

  She was still crying when Diana’s arrival in the early evening was announced with the bang of the front door.

  “Kat? Is that you?”

  She was spread out on her bed, staring at the ceiling when Diana burst into her room.

  “Kat! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home early? I thought you were only coming later.”

  “How did you know I was home?” Kat asked, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.

  “Your bags are downstairs. The concierge said you didn’t want the driver to bring them up.”

  “I couldn’t face him. Anyone.”

  Diana’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Oh, Kat. Come here.” She sat down and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry. You’ll meet someone new in no time.”

  Kat nodded, but she knew that wasn’t true. There would never be anyone else.

  Lann was covered with the sorcerer’s blood. His hands were scorched from the lightning he’d sent the evil man’s way, but it would soon heal. What wouldn’t heal so easily was his heart, the one he’d given to a redhead back in Santiago.

  Keep her, his heart screamed. Take her, his body demanded. But his mind knew better. A man like him had no future to offer a woman, unless he wanted her dead. Hunted. Like him. She deserved a happy, normal life.

  The stench of torched flesh and sulfur filled the air, the odor sickening. His fingers dripped with the child murderer’s life juices, from the heart he’d cut out of the man’s chest, just like the hellion had cut out the hearts of innocent children. He was known for his control, for his cool assessment and unemotional way of battle, not for slicing and dicing like a hacksaw madman. Cutting out the heart hadn’t been necessary. The bolt he brought down afterward would have been enough to eliminate the enemy, now a frothing puddle on the floor. However, he needed the heart, wanted to send it to the criminal’s team members as a warning.

  Joss’s hand on his shoulder pulled him back to the present.

  His commander’s brow was furrowed, his silver eyes assessing. “Maya has brought the vehicle around. Let’s go.”

  Still he looked around for another enemy to fight. The fucker had Piranha gangsters with him. They were a new cross of vampire and Gila Monster shifter, this particular breed baptized Piranha for their devastating teeth. They could dissect a large man in no time, and although their venom was lethal, they’d rather feed on live flesh than inject it with poison. They needed copious amounts of raw meat to sustain themselves, and their favorite snack was human.

  Joss’s new wife, Clelia, had taken care of those. The firestarter stood to the side, dressed in black leather pants with knee-high boots. He saw the look Joss shot her. It was one of possession, a need to protect, but the small woman looked deceptively fragile. He bet she could kick Joss’s ass, and Joss was one big chunk of human being.

  “Lann,” Joss said.

  Lann knew that Joss had noticed the uncharacteristic rage in him, but the bloodsucker didn’t ask questions as they hurried to the SUV that would take them back to base camp.

  Joss helped Clelia into the vehicle before he and Lann followed. Lann kept his eyes on the horizon, just in case the dead fuckers had a back-up team. Maya was behind the wheel.

  “Weather forecast?” Joss asked. He wasn’t referring to the temperature or possibility of rain.

  “Coast is clear,” Lann said after checking the satellite monitor on his wrist.

  Clelia didn’t speak. She regarded him quietly with something like empathy. For her second battle, she’d done great. She was an asset to the team. But he dwelled on another woman. Damn it. He shook his head. He had to clear his mind.

  He looked out the window, more to avoid Joss and Clelia’s piercing stares than to admire the Dutch windmills. He fucking hated the Netherlands. Then Joss’s finger was on his bleeding arm, the one the devil of a sorcerer had managed to cut before Lann had made sushi of his heart and fried his ass, and before he could grip Joss’s wrist, the bloodsucker had his finger in his mouth, tasting Lann’s blood.

  Joss didn’t possess one of the seven forbidden arts, but he had a gift for telling things about people by tasting their blood. His commander’s eyes widened as he stared at Lann. Lann sneered. It was nobody’s damn business.

  In his ground base bedroom, after he’d showered and the team’s onsite doctor, Eve, had stitched him up, Lann dialed the secure number for his butler in Santiago. It was Friday, five days since he’d left Katherine.

  Alfonso replied on the first ring. “Sir?”

  “Has she been in yet?”

  “No, Sir. Not since you called yesterday. Miss has not yet been back to visit the library either.”

  Fuck. “I see.” He swallowed, mentally preparing himself for a blow. “Is she seeing anyone?”

  “No, Sir.” Good. “There is a man visiting frequently.” Fuck. Fuck. “It’s her roommate’s boyfriend.”

  “Who?”

  “Enrico Prieto.”

  “Any messages?”

  “Just from your banker, Sir. Miss returned the money.”

  “All of it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Why the hell did she have to be so hardheaded? She needn’t struggle. He had more than enough to ensure she led a comfortable life.

  “Anything else Sir needs me to do?” Alfonso asked when the silence stretched.

  They had two more stakeouts lined up before this mission was over. It had turned out dirtier and longer than what they’d expected.

  “Book me a flight to Santiago in two weeks’ time.” Lann hung up and threw the phone on the bed.

  He had no right to do this. He had no business going back and interfering in her life. He’d just make sure she was all right, and then he’d back off. No. If he saw her, he wasn’t going to back off, and he couldn’t do that to her again. He’d just go and take care of the money. Then he’d get the hell out of Santiago and let her be happy.

  ~ THE END ~

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  7 Forbidden Arts, Book 3

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  Aeromancist (7 Forbidden Arts, Book 3)

  He’s known as the Weatherman. Lann Dréan is the last of his kind. With a price on his head and hunted for a power he shouldn’t possess, all he can offer Katherine White is thirty days of passion. But his uncontainable desire comes with
an unforeseen cost. At the end of their thirty-day contract, Lann learns that his lust will cost Katherine everything. Now he’ll do anything to save her from the fate he’s brought upon her.

  Excerpt:

  The air in the apartment was thick, not cool like when he was around. It had been two weeks since he’d left her, and Katherine White swore she’d lost her ability to breathe. All she wanted to do now was be sick. Fittingly. Her body was in withdrawal. What she needed was Lann Dréan’s touch. But she had signed a contract not to contact him after thirty days. That was all he’d promised to give her. A month of the most incredible sex of her life.

  “Come on, Kat,” Diana said, “you’ve been cooped up in here for two weeks. Come out for dinner with us. It’ll be fun.”

  Kat swallowed down bile, trying not to vomit.

  “Enrico won’t mind.”

  “I’ll just stay here with my head in the toilet,” Kat said, not looking at her roommate.

  “Kat.” Diana crouched down next to her. “You haven’t been well since … well, since you know when.” She wiped Kat’s hair from her forehead. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “I’m in no condition to go out, never mind eat. Besides, I’ve got to work. I’m behind with my research.”

  Diana straightened and rested her hands on her hips. “Is that maybe because you haven’t been back to his library?”

  Kat rolled her eyes at Diana’s determination not to speak Lann’s name, as if that was going to prevent Kat from missing him. “There are other libraries, you know.”

  “Yeah.” Diana gave her a condemning look. “Not with the same material. Not with what you need. Besides, you haven’t been to any of those other libraries either. You haven’t been anywhere since he left.”