Tristan nodded. “Good. Now spread your legs.”
Widening her stance, Sarah gasped when Tristan cupped her sex. He turned his hand over, rubbing his knuckles along her shape so the silk of her thong stroked sensitive skin.
Sarah’s thighs began to tremble and she reached for the bedpost to steady herself.
“No.”
“I’ll fall,” she half moaned as Tristan’s hand moved faster and with more pressure, focusing on her clit.
“I’ll catch you,” he said quietly.
Clenching her fists, Sarah’s nails dug into her palms as Tristan continued to stroke her. Her hips rocked back and forth against his fingers. She gave a throaty cry when his other hand came up to cover her breast, kneading the tender flesh. Tristan leaned forward and took her other breast in his mouth, teasing her nipple with his teeth and tongue.
It was too much. Sarah shuddered violently as Tristan brought her to a swift, sudden climax. Her legs quaked and folded and she fell, but Tristan’s arm caught her around the waist as he lifted her onto the bed.
Sarah was still riding the crests of pleasure from her climax when she felt Tristan strip off her thong, and then his cock was pushing into her wet folds. He filled her slowly, drawing a low moan from her throat.
Tristan pushed Sarah’s arms above her head, pinning her by the wrists as he rode her. Her hips bucked up to meet his thrusts and she wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him deeper inside her. Tristan held her down as his cock filled her, friction building hot tension within Sarah’s core. She writhed under him as he rammed harder and faster, and then she screamed as she fell apart, coming in wave after wave. Sarah heard Tristan’s shout match her cry and felt his climax pumping inside her.
Releasing her arms, Tristan didn’t pull out of her, but propped himself on his elbows and gazed down at Sarah.
“May I touch you now?” Sarah asked, breathless.
“Yes.” Tristan smiled. “But no more talk of trysts with succubi to further our cause.”
She reached up to trace his jawline. “If you’d agreed, I wouldn’t have let you go through with it in the end.”
“I love you, Sarah,” Tristan said. He turned his cheek to lay a kiss on her palm.
Sarah nodded, whispering, “And I love you.”
Shifting his weight off her, Tristan rolled onto his side. Sarah turned to face him.
“What now?” she asked.
“Now we wait until Moira returns tomorrow afternoon.” Tristan pulled the covers over them. “And hope she brings good news.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Sarah said when Tristan turned out the light.
In the darkness Tristan’s lips brushed over her throat. “Then we won’t sleep.”
27
THOUGH TRISTAN BROUGHT her over the edge of ecstasy twice more before Sarah settled against his chest for the night, sleep eluded her. She listened to the slow, steady beat of Tristan’s heart while he slumbered but could find no such peace of her own.
Her restlessness finally drove her out of bed. Sarah slipped into her robe and stole from the room. She knew she’d been wrong to suggest Tristan be the one to deter Lana from summoning the Harbinger, but Sarah couldn’t put the threat from her mind. Leaving it to chance was too great a risk. She had to do something.
A growl rumbled from the shadows.
“You should be in bed.” Seamus came to stand beside Sarah.
“Do you always keep watch?” Sarah asked him.
“Not always,” Seamus replied. “But the way things stand now, I’ll not trust the task to anyone else. I’ll be here, but you belong with him. Go back inside.”
“There’s something I need to do,” Sarah said.
“At this hour?” Seamus peered at her. “What are you up to?”
“I need to find Lana.”
“That’s trouble if I’ve ever smelled it,” Seamus said gruffly. “You can’t be thinking of taking on a succubus on your own. You do know she can breathe fire, don’t you?”
Sarah hadn’t known that, and she shuddered at the thought. “I’m not planning to fight her. I just need to convince her that she’s in control of the situation with Tristan.”
“She brought Bosque here,” Seamus said. “If you provoke her, she’ll do it again. And then you’ll be dead.”
“Yes,” Sarah replied. “And you know as well as I do that keeping Lana from summoning the Harbinger again is the only way Tristan and I can have a chance to escape.”
Seamus fell silent, but after a few moments said, “You’ll find Lana’s room near the top of the east tower. Be careful.”
“Thank you.”
Leaving the wolf to his watch, Sarah went to the tight spiral of stone steps that gave entrance to the eastern tower. She climbed in darkness until she spotted a thin sliver of light that escaped through the crack of a thick wooden door. Not bothering to knock, Sarah pushed the door open.
The sudden bright light made her squint and cover her eyes. When her vision adjusted, Sarah went rigid in the doorway. The small room she’d entered had characteristics of both a brothel and a torture chamber.
A strange assortment of furniture occupied the space: a velvet divan, a silk-upholstered chaise, a narrow wooden table that featured shackles bolted at each end, a wheel strewn with leather straps. Whips, cudgels, hooks, and knives accented the shelves that framed a fireplace much smaller than those found in Tristan’s and Sarah’s rooms. Spread on the floor in front of the flames was a large wolf pelt surrounded by dozens of pillows. Sarah’s chest cramped as she speculated that the rug was courtesy of some Guardian’s ill-timed disobedience.
Lana was sprawled before the fireplace, her wings outspread, reminding Sarah of the way a cold-blooded creature might bask in the sun.
“I suppose I should say ‘welcome.’” Lana rose from the mound of silk pillows. She wore a strapless leather bustier and a sheer silk wrap skirt that did little to obscure the lace panties beneath it. “But you’re not, and I’m not interested in lying to you for the sake of appearances.”
“I’m sorry for the intrusion.” Sarah forced herself to leave the doorway and meet Lana in the middle of the room. “But I need to speak with you.”
“Do you?” Lana folded her arms over her chest, and her wings curled in irritation.
Coming closer to Sarah, Lana sniffed the air. “You left him to seek me out. I’ll admit I’m interested enough not to throw you down the stairs.”
“I left him because I’m afraid he’ll leave me,” Sarah blurted. “And I don’t want that to happen.”
Lana arched a brow at Sarah. “From all I’ve witnessed, our Tristan is infatuated with you.”
“There are things you haven’t witnessed,” Sarah said quietly. “He’s been different lately. Tonight . . . I couldn’t, I mean he didn’t want . . .”
“I’m listening.” Lana watched Sarah’s face closely.
Sarah knew she had to be very careful, choosing each word and action with precision. Lana would not only sense, but also consume, every emotion Sarah exuded. That meant it was impossible for Sarah to be disingenuous. She had to let her emotions spill out honestly, but in a way that would affect Lana’s perception of Sarah and Tristan’s relationship.
Letting fear roll through her limbs, Sarah averted her eyes from the succubus’s intent gaze.
“Tristan favors me now,” Sarah said. “But he won’t continue to if I can’t keep him interested.”
“What makes you think you can’t?” Lana asked.
Sarah cringed and from the corner of her eye saw Lana smile.
“Before Tristan I hadn’t ever . . .”
Lana began to laugh. “Yes, that’s right. Tristan took a virgin to his bed.”
Grasping Sarah’s chin, Lana forced Sar
ah to look at her. “Tell me, dear, was he surprised?”
“Yes.” Sarah gritted her teeth.
Lana released Sarah’s chin and laughed again. “What a novel experience that must have been for him.”
Sarah nodded. “At first he seemed angry, but then it seemed to excite him. And I’m afraid that what you said is true, that he was only interested because it was novel—something different.”
With a shrug, Lana said, “Possibly.”
“I’m worried that my lack of experience will mean I can’t give Tristan what he wants,” Sarah said. “And that he’ll soon tire of me. Tristan told me what Bosque’s orders were: to kill me or keep me for pleasure.”
“That’s true. And I assume you’re hoping for the latter,” Lana replied. “Tell me something else, Searcher, are you sure you don’t want Tristan to tire of you? And if not, why? Do you see sex as the only means of saving your skin, or is something else motivating you?”
Sarah retreated until her back was against the wall. She wanted Lana to feel dominant. It would only help her cause.
“I want to stay here. With him.”
“Really?” Lana half turned from Sarah and walked slowly toward the fireplace. “That surprises me. Your kind are usually loyal to the marrow. Will you turn on your own so quickly?”
“All I’ve learned about the war is that it’s a lost cause.” Sarah wilted against the wall. “Bosque was here. I saw his power myself—there’s nothing like it. We can’t win this war, and I don’t want to die.”
“Hmmm.” Lana gazed into the flames. “Cowardly, but honest. And you’re not wrong. I’ve always thought the Searchers were honorable morons. This isn’t a war that you and your good intentions will ever win.”
“I know,” Sarah murmured.
“But that still doesn’t explain why you’ve come to me,” Lana said.
Sarah pushed herself away from the wall, taking just a few steps toward the succubus. “Tristan said that if I stay, that I’m to be your ward, so that I can learn . . . your art.”
“My ‘art’?” Lana laughed. “Are you trying to flatter me into helping you?”
“You know how to please men, to please Tristan,” Sarah said. “You can show me what to do so he won’t put me aside. So he won’t kill me.”
“Do you think you could handle the knowledge I’ve mastered?” Lana pulled a black leather bullwhip from one of the shelves.
Sarah answered, “I’d like to try.”
Lana pivoted, and the whip’s length snaked out. The leather cord wrapped around Sarah’s waist. Lana gave the handle a sharp tug and Sarah stumbled toward her.
“Are you sure about that?” Lana continued to pull on the whip until Sarah stood face-to-face with the succubus.
Lana bent her head and kissed Sarah’s throat and then the corner of her mouth. Sarah tensed as Lana’s fingertips ran along her collarbone.
“You’re wise to be frightened of me,” Lana murmured. “The things I could show you. How pain is pleasure. How begging can be strength. Nothing is more pure than agony.”
Lana took Sarah’s lower lip between her teeth, biting hard enough that Sarah tasted blood. Lana’s breath tasted of rose petals and spring rain. Sarah’s pulse spiked, and a tingling warmth flowed over her skin.
Of course the succubus would have aphrodisiac breath.
Sarah whimpered at the ache that seized her body, but didn’t pull away, relieved that she at least managed to stop herself from reaching for Lana the way she suddenly longed to.
Stepping back, Lana gave Sarah a long, sweeping look while licking Sarah’s blood from her lips.
“That’s it, my lovely,” Lana murmured. “Show me what you want.”
Sarah felt control slipping away. Her head tipped back and she moaned.
Then Lana sighed. “No.” She let the whip loosen; its coils slid off Sarah’s hips and onto the floor. “You’re a pathetic, simpering girl and for all the spine you’ve shown I’m surprised you can even stand up straight. I’d much rather have you fearful that Tristan will cast you out of his bed at any moment than teach you tricks to keep him there.”
When Lana backed off, Sarah slumped against the wall gulping air until the sensual daze of the succubus’s spell had cleared away. Her heart was still pounding, but she’d accomplished what she’d hoped to.
“What a shame.” A tall figure stepped through the open door. Sarah stiffened when the firelight revealed Owen’s face. “I was anticipating quite the show.”
“Learn to live with disappointment,” Lana answered him. “I’m not in the performing mood.”
Owen ignored Lana and came toward Sarah instead. “So, our little captive is looking for lessons.”
He jerked his chin in Lana’s direction. “You do know that she’s not the only one who can teach you.”
Sarah backed away. She’d had a firm sense of how to handle Lana, but Owen was another matter.
He stalked after Sarah until she bumped into the wall. She tried to sidestep, but Owen laid his palms flat against the wall on either side of Sarah, trapping her.
“There’s no one better to show you what a man needs than me,” Owen said. He leaned closer, and Sarah held her breath, not taking any chances that the incubus could seduce her with the mystical characteristics at his disposal. “In fact, you could get on your knees right now and I’ll give you all the pointers you could ever want.”
His wings curved around her, taking the place of his arms to cage her while his hands moved to her shoulders, pushing Sarah down.
She brought her knee up hard.
Owen groaned and doubled over. Sarah shoved him aside and bolted across the room.
She turned when she heard the incubus roar and saw a spout of flames jet from his mouth.
Oh God.
“You’ll be getting a different kind of lesson for that, bitch.” Owen started toward Sarah, but Lana stepped into his path.
“Get out of my way,” Owen snarled at her.
“Let her be, Owen.” Lana pressed the coils of her whip against his bare chest. “How do you think Tristan will react to news of you coercing his little human for your own pleasure?”
“No more cross than he’s bound to be with you,” Owen replied.
“Not true,” Lana said. “She came to me, but look how she shrank from your touch. I’m afraid you aren’t as alluring to her as Tristan—or me, for that matter. You’ll just have to nurse your wounds and your ego without the girl.”
Still standing between Owen and Sarah, Lana looked over her shoulder at the Searcher. “Run along, now. I’ll make sure Owen doesn’t give chase. If I decide I want you for a pupil after all, I’ll come find you.”
Sarah ran. She was breathless by the time she reached the bottom of the steps and raced down the hall, so she wasn’t able to scream when someone reached out and grabbed her.
“Keep quiet,” Seamus growled. “Did you get what you needed? You didn’t come to any harm, did you?”
“I’m fine,” Sarah told him, gasping for air. “As far as getting what I needed . . . we’ll have to wait and see.”
“I suppose that’s the best we can hope for,” Seamus said.
Sarah nodded. Her panicked heart rate was finally easing off. “I think it is.”
She bid Seamus good night, and returned to her room. Relieved to find Tristan still asleep, Sarah shed her robe and slipped beneath the covers.
Though he didn’t wake, Tristan stirred and pulled Sarah into his arms. She tucked her head against his chest, letting the warmth of his skin and the comfort of his familiar, masculine scent soothe her.
“I love you,” Sarah whispered into his skin. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t awake to hear her. She simply needed to say the words and know their truth.
28
“YOU WANT ME to tell everyone that you’re sick?” Tristan asked Sarah.
Tristan had returned to his room to get dressed but had returned only to be informed by Sarah that she didn’t plan to leave hers all day.
“Yes.” Sarah was propped up in bed. Her dark hair spilled over the white linens.
“You don’t look sick,” he told her. Watching her, Tristan thought only of how appealing Sarah looked. He was of half a mind to join her in bed, but Sarah was all business.
“Then don’t send anyone to visit me,” Sarah replied curtly. “Except Moira. The minute the boat brings her back, send her to tend me. Since she’s my usual maid, it shouldn’t raise any suspicions.”
“What if the other servants want to tend you in Moira’s absence?” Tristan countered.
Sarah frowned. “Just tell them that I’m in a difficult mood because I’m unwell and I refuse to have anyone but Moira serve me.”
“Fine.” Tristan let out an exasperated breath. “You seem to have all the angles covered, but why are you staging this charade?”
“I want Lana to think I’m terrified that she won’t help me,” Sarah told him. She made a show of stretching and when she arched her back, Tristan’s body tightened at the sight of her breasts straining against the fabric of her chemise. “She needs to see me as weak, frightened, and utterly submissive.”
“I don’t follow.” Tristan walked to the bedside. Even if Sarah wanted to feign illness for the day, it didn’t mean he couldn’t tarry another hour.
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Sarah said, “so I went to see Lana.”
Tristan had been about to reach for Sarah, but froze. “You what?”
Sarah lifted her hands to placate him. “Look at me, Tristan. Obviously I’m fine.”
“Why the hell did you go looking for her in the first place?” Despite Sarah’s insistence that she hadn’t been in danger, Tristan’s blood went cold at the thought of her facing Lana alone. He reached out but only to pull back the sheets, his assessment of her body no longer compelled by desire but fear that she’d been injured.
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