Chapter 29
THE NEXT WEEK, I RETURNED to work. They would’ve let me stay home longer, but I insisted on coming back. I needed the familiar routine of the office to help me get back on track as soon as possible.
As I’d hoped, blaming my absence on amnesia helped me avoid pretty much any personal questions. Whenever asked, I simply repeated the official statement released by the police.
I went to Canada for the weekend and was hit by a car while hiking outside of Vancouver. The elderly couple in the car took me home instead of the hospital for several reasons. First, besides a brief blackout and apparent memory loss, I didn’t seem to show any signs of physical injury. Second, I had no identification papers on me for them to figure out who I was when I couldn’t tell them that. And finally, they were initially worried about the consequences, feeling responsible for causing the accident.
After living in their house for several weeks, I finally started remembering enough to confirm my identity for them to send me home.
The story did cause some skeptics to raise their eyebrows. However, even Derek had to back off with his suspicions, faced with solidly documented proof of every point of the story.
There were records of my buying an airplane ticket and boarding the flight to Vancouver that Friday night. Full testimony from the Canadian couple, who hit me and then housed me in their home for weeks, was also provided by the Vancouver police. I wasn’t sure if the testimony was a pure falsification like the rest or if or if there indeed were a couple who worked for The Priory and agreed to lie to the police on my behalf.
One of the hard parts turned out to be convincing everyone that I would just spontaneously travel to another country on my own. But since any memory of everything that happened after I came home from work on that Friday was supposedly gone, I didn’t need to explain any of it.
With both of my closest friends being out of town that weekend and with Derek out of the picture by then, it was reasonable to assume I felt no need to notify anyone of my plans of a change of scenery, shortly after a breakup with my boyfriend of two years. Someone at the office even recalled a conversation we had a year ago when I apparently expressed the desire to see Vancouver one day.
In any case, cleared by medical professionals to return to work, I was free to get on with my life.
Everything seemed to be back to normal—waking up to the alarm in the morning, making it to the office on time, having lunch with colleagues, going for drinks after work or reading and watching TV at home.
Through the day, I managed just fine. At night was when I struggled.
With the expert help of Doctor Yung, I had been successfully dealing with the effects of being held in captivity. However, no matter how much she’d made me feel at ease talking about my sessions on the cross, I still couldn’t bring myself to tell her everything about Ivarr.
The memories of my time in the cell were not the ones that haunted me most when alone in bed at night.
Regardless if my eyes were closed or open, staring into the darkness of my bedroom, I still saw his face framed by the golden halo of his hair as he moved over me, his expression that of passionate hunger and reverence.
The sensation of his skin against mine, his hands on me, his lips caressing every inch of my body—those were the memories I knew I had to let go, yet dreaded forgetting.
To leave behind the night I spent with a sex demon turned out to be not that simple. What was worse, the experience proved to be highly addictive—I wanted more.
More of him. More of the way he made me feel.
Lying alone in my bed at night, I went through every single detail of our time together, torturing myself with the memory of the vivid blue of his irises circled with bright red passion directed at me.
What worried me the most, though, was that it wasn’t just the sex with Ivarr that I missed.
I wanted to dance with him again, feel the safety of his arms around me, just the two of us swept away with the music.
I longed to hear his voice, strong and powerful, even as a whisper.
In a very short time, he managed to learn enough about me to get me open up to him. In one conversation, I ended up telling him more about me than I’d ever did to anyone after months or even years of knowing them.
When I talked to him, he really listened, with all his senses focused on me, and I felt no fear of judgment or rebuttal from him. I missed that, too.
In my mind, I understood the sensible thing to do was to let him go, all of him, but I couldn’t find a way to get him out of my heart.
I told myself it was simply the concern for his wellbeing that kept him in my thoughts. The horrible way we parted wouldn’t let me rest until I knew that he was okay. The sooner I learned his fate, the easier it would be for me to leave Ivarr in the past.
Even if he was free and well by now, we were never meant to be—I knew it all along. After all, he was a sex demon. The magical night I spent with him might have been just one of many to him.
For all I knew, he probably didn’t even remember my name anymore. By now, I could very well have become just another nameless, faceless source he’d fed off.
All I could do was to hope that my memories of him would finally fade with time.
IVARR
He lay on the narrow bed at the Base. Grey and dreadful, this place sucked the life out of him. He could almost feel the energy seeping out of his body and into the concrete walls around him, draining him of light.
Her light.
It was Katherine’s energy that had been deserting him in a slow but steady stream, day after day, letting pain gradually take over. Afraid to move a muscle, he tried not to groan from it, not even to frown, to preserve every single drop of her he still had left inside him.
For as long as he could, he refused to feed, declining all solutions presented by the Council. He knew that sooner or later he’d have to accept whatever nourishment they offered or risk falling into Deep Sleep again, losing Katherine for good this way.
Not the pain from his healing bones, not even the torture of increasing hunger could overpower the agony of losing her.
Don’t leave me, Katherine.
Night after night he pleaded with her in his mind, waiting for her call in a desperate hope that she did not forget about him.
Dream about me, my queen.
Chapter 30
ONE NIGHT IN NOVEMBER, a few weeks after I returned to work, I stood in front of my bedroom mirror again. This time, I didn’t scrutinize my appearance. I admired it.
At lunch that day, I spotted a silk chemise in a shop window. It wasn’t red, but the delicate feminine luxury of it reminded me of the night I spent with Ivarr, making me feel bold and beautiful once again. Unable to resist the urge to wear something so gorgeous, I bought it.
Blush pink, it had silver lace accents in the front and a small satin bow between the breasts. The colour lent a fresh glow to my skin. And when I ran my hands down the modest curves of my hips the sensation of gliding silk under my palms brought back memories of Ivarr’s hands on me.
For once, I didn’t fight it. Instead, I closed my eyes, recalling the feeling.
Arching my back, I cupped my breasts through the lace, remembering him doing the same. Yearning to have him near took over, along with a desperate ache for his touch.
With a sudden sob, I jerked my hands away and climbed under the covers.
It was not the same. Touching myself could never compare to his caress.
Nothing could.
The truth of this realization ran through me in a cold shiver of dread. Every lover I ever had from now on would forever be compared to him in my mind. And I already feared none of them would measure up.
I tossed and turned. The silk of the nightgown slithered between my legs, caressing my inner thighs. The lace rubbed softly against my hardened nipples, sending a rush of heat to my lower stomach.
Suddenly too hot under the covers, I tossed them off, and with a groan burie
d my face in the pillow.
My daily struggle to have a normal life was exhausting at times. Striving to appear strong—as if my encounter with the world of demons had never happened and didn’t affect me in any way—I tried to act as I always did, before my abduction.
I tried to show everyone that I was just fine—coping, dealing and moving on.
And maybe it was true. Maybe I was mostly okay. But tonight, I felt crushed by the effort to be normal when, in fact, so much in me was no longer the same.
Things that I was too scared to admit, even to myself, floated to the surface. I missed the sensuality of a demon’s touch. I wanted someone to make love to me as thoroughly and completely as only an Incubus could.
I desperately missed having him in my life.
Just once, I didn’t want to pretend to be stronger than I really was. I wished I could allow myself to be weak for a moment, to curl against his hard chest and have his arms enclose me in a world of safety and protection.
And if I fell apart, I wanted to know there was someone to help me pick up all the pieces and take care of me without judgment or any set expectations, just the way he did during the brief time we spent together.
Tonight, I didn’t want to be reminded of the long list of differences between Ivarr and I. I didn’t care if it was wrong—I wanted to relish the things that united us, completing us both.
Loneliness swelled tight in my throat, and I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing he were here, with me.
‘No matter what, I’ll find you.’
I was sure he referred to finding me down the road somewhere if I drove away that night. But right now, I imagined he’d somehow find me here. In the darkness of the night, even the impossible seemed at least probable.
“Ivarr,” I whispered, drifting into what I already knew would be a fitful sleep.
‘Eligor. Remember it. Dream about me.’
His eyes, his voice, his touch.
Come to me. Even if just as a memory of a dream. I need it.
“Eligor.”
I need you.
I WAS RUNNING THROUGH narrow streets filled with strangers. Their wide, grey backs closed in on me, forcing me to push my way through, shoving at them left and right.
None paid any attention to me. No one even so much as glanced my way.
A panicky feeling of being lost in this cobblestone web of streets vibrated through me. I opened my mouth to call for help, but there was only one word bouncing in my brain.
“Eligor!” I called out, shoving yet another broad back out of my way with force.
“I’m here,” came a low reply, and a pair of strong arms caught me as soon as the back of the stranger disappeared. “God, I’ve waited for your call,” his voice rasped in my ear.
And for one impossibly brief moment that seemed to last a lifetime it was just him—his hands on me, his warm spicy scent enveloping me, his mouth peppering my face with frantic kisses.
“Ivarr . . .” I breathed out, melting into him. “You found me.” I tangled my fingers in his hair, reveling in his closeness.
My very soul seemed to have found peace in his arms, fear and worries dissolving into thin air, now that he was here.
“Finally.” I pressed myself to his chest, running my hands along the wide planes of his shoulder blades. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of gloves and jeans. And I caressed his skin, savoring the sensation of its smooth warmth under my palms.
“I missed you, Ivarr. So, so much . . .”
“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmured, lifting me with his hands under my backside. I wrapped my legs around his waist, hiding my face in his shoulder.
He carried me somewhere, away from the narrow, crowded streets, then placed me down—my back onto a warm, hard surface.
I heard the calming sound of running water and glanced around to find myself on the back of a stone lion at the edge of a marble fountain on a cobblestone plaza.
“Where is everyone?”
“There is no one here. Just you and I, my queen.”
“You and I, my Viking,” I echoed, taking his face between my hands. My gaze sliding along his familiar features, I smiled. “You’re too beautiful to be truly a Viking. You need some scars or some Nordic tattoos to make you look rough.”
“All wounds heal without scars on me.” He grinned. “Including tattoos.”
I had a bizarre feeling that we already had this conversation—somewhere in another time and place, infinitely long ago. Then it passed, as everything beyond this moment dissolved into nothing.
I stroked his cheekbones with my thumbs, feeling the prickling of his short beard.
“Don’t shave this off then,” I murmured. “I like it.”
“As you wish.”
The sunny expression in his eyes directed at me left me basking in his obvious affection.
“What do you see?” I asked, knowing that he saw more than I could.
“Everything.” He turned his head to kiss my hand. “All the gorgeous colours and magnificent lights that I missed so much. They are all there.”
There was the familiar intensity in his stare, but something was missing.
“Where are the blue sparkles then? You’re not hungry today?”
“I’m always hungry, Katherine.” He shook his head. “And with you, I’m simply insatiable. But I can’t take any of it here.”
“Why not?”
“I need to be next to you to skim or take any of your emotions.”
“But you are next to me. Right here.” I raked my hands through his hair, the tickle of silky strands between my fingers as real as ever.
He didn’t answer. With a sad smile on his lips, he took my hand and kissed my wrist.
“I can’t feed off you here.” He leaned back and sat upright, straddling the statue, with my legs still wound around his waist. “But I can feel and taste all of you.”
He tore his gloves off, tossing them into the fountain, then leaned over me again, covering my mouth with his.
This time, the kiss was slow, unhurried, as if he were taking his time to enjoy every moment of it, every sensation of his lips sliding against mine and of his tongue dancing with mine.
He gently ran his hand down my neck and along my shoulder. Catching the strap of my chemise with one finger, he dragged it down until my breast bounced free into the fresh, misty air of the fountain surrounding us.
“Every. Single. Inch of you,” he whispered against my mouth, trailing kisses down the side of my neck to my naked breast.
I moaned from the exquisite sensation of his lips tugging at my nipple. Right before he sucked it in, rolling it with his tongue, tiny prickles of his beard against my breast.
The wave of heat that had been simmering just beneath my skin rushed over me, released by his caress. I sank my fingers into his hair, pressing him closer, and arched my back.
He slid his hand lower and dipped between my thighs. With a gasp, I let my knees drop away from his sides, opening wider for him. Gently, he glided his fingers through my folds then drew languid circles, spreading the slick moisture that seeped out of me.
Waves of arousal rippled through me with his touch, setting every nerve on fire.
“More,” I whispered, lifting my hips to follow his fingers.
With his hands around my thighs, he slid lower along my body and hiked my nightgown up to my waist. He lowered his head between my legs and put his mouth on me.
Hot shivers ran up my thighs, with the first swipe of his tongue between my folds. Liquid heat pooled inside me, ready to burst, as he circled the sensitive bud. Again and again.
Slow at first, the sweet ache inside me built higher and stronger under the skillful glide of his tongue, until orgasm exploded in what felt like a million fireworks bursting though me in waves.
He nuzzled every last blissful shudder out of me then placed a few tender kisses on the inside of my thigh.
“God, I missed this,” he said softly, pressing the side of hi
s face to my leg. “You have no idea how much I need you.”
“You said you can’t feed here,” I panted, catching my breath, as frantic heat inside me slowly dissolved into languid warmth.
He slid up to cover my body with his, and I marveled at the satisfied expression in his clear blue eyes, not a hint of red in them.
“Oh, I’d love to have taken all of this energy churning around you right now. But there is so much more about being with you.” He searched my face with his gaze, as if taking it in. “The feel of you.” He cupped my naked breast, massaging it gently. A small pinch of his fingers on my nipple sent a wave of tingles along my skin again, and I whimpered softly. “Your taste.” He lowered his head to my neck, nibbling on my skin. “I want it all.”
I cradled him between my raised knees and rocked my hips against the solid bulge in his jeans. The hot wave of desire flashed through me again, washing away the dreamy contentment of afterglow.
“I want you, too, Ivarr,” I whispered and found the button of his jeans then yanked his zipper down, freeing his rock-hard erection.
He groaned into my neck when I circled his length and lifted my hips urgently, desperate to have him inside me.
“I’ll have you any way I can, Katherine,” he gritted though his teeth, slowly easing in, with a gentle thrust. “Anywhere.”
I wiggled under him, in an attempt to take him deeper. Long and thick, he stretched me impossibly tight around him. The delicious sensation of complete fullness made me lightheaded as he began to move.
My arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back, I moved with him, meeting him thrust for thrust in a slow sensual dance to the trickling sound of the water in the fountain.
“Then have me, Ivarr,” I whispered, the anticipation of another approaching orgasm already coiling through me. “Right here, right now.”
He circled his hips, rubbing just the right way against me and setting another explosion off inside me the very same moment his own release surged out of his body.
Panting, he collapsed over me, his chest to mine, his face at my neck, our lower bodies fused together. My arms tight around him, I basked in his closeness, ready to stay like this forever.
The Forgotten (Demons Book 2) Page 16
