by Diana Duncan
Slowly at first, then incrementally increasing in speed, feathery strokes fluttered over the electric bundle of nerves. Until she was panting, writhing, fighting against the urge to scream. Trembling on the edge of losing herself.
“Delaney.” His warm whisper grazed her ear. “Let go. Let me take you over.” Rowan’s mouth captured hers at the same moment a finger slipped inside her tight channel. His thumb rapidly circled her clitoris as another finger joined the first, stretching her. A few moments of pressure, a flash of pain when he breached the barrier. And then sweet, liquid pleasure as his fingers sliding inside her, his thumb rolling her clit, his tongue in her mouth echoing the strokes of his fingers demanded her helpless response.
She flew apart in his arms, body quivering, muscles contracting, senses swamped by bliss.
When she could finally speak, she gasped out, “Rowan. I want you.”
“Aye,” he growled. “And you’ll be having me.” His fingers withdrew.
Aftershocks continued to zing through her as the solid weight of him covered her. His knee again slid between her thighs. She gladly opened her body. Opened her mind. As his thick, blunt heat probed for entrance, his Power enveloped her in a giddy rush.
“Wait! Don’t.”
Propped on shaking arms, he stilled. Beautiful features taut with strain, he gritted his teeth. “You wish me to stop?”
Gossamer threads wove around her heart. Because even now, he would stop if she asked. Without a word of censure.
Her choice. Rowan would always give her the choice. “No! But you’re…you’re using your Power to…affect my physical sensations. Not amplifying, like a minute ago, but masking them.”
“Sweetheart.” His hoarse brogue was patient. “It won’t take away from your pleasure. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Don’t dull anything. I want to feel all of you.”
He groaned. “You’ll be the death of me yet, Delaney Morgan.”
Holding her gaze, he lifted the veil of Power. Carefully, tenderly, he completely filled her body. Filled her heart.
Filled every empty, aching hollow in her soul.
Tears welled behind her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.
“Ah, luv.” He rained kisses on her eyelids, cheeks, the corners of her mouth. “I would’ve spared you this.”
“No, Rowan.” She hugged him tight, glorying in his heartbeat thundering against hers. Momentary discomfort was nothing compared to the soul-shattering intimacy of their shared connection. “It’s perfect.”
Buried deep inside her, he kissed her as if they had all the time in the world. Making her feel treasured. Cherished. Safe. Only when her body went soft and relaxed, and fully accepted him, did he begin to move. Long, languorous glides that made everything shimmer.
Brilliant green eyes locked on hers. The world narrowed to only Rowan. His rich taste, his clean, male scent. The erotic sound of his ragged breaths and low groans. The way the wide planes of his back bunched beneath her palms. She slid her hands down to his buttocks to discover the sensual rhythm of those toned muscles flexing with every inward thrust.
Her hips rising and falling in sync with his, she tightened her inner muscles around the hot, thick shaft stroking within her.
A throaty moan wrenched from Rowan, vibrating to her core. “Mo chridhe.”
The whispered Gaelic endearment evoked a distant, primal memory. My heart. She’d waited all her life for this moment. This man.
She rejoiced as his protective shields splintered. Completely in unison physically and mentally, there were no barriers between them. No boundaries. No separation. Like they’d been born knowing each other’s thoughts, understanding each other’s feelings.
Their Powers clashed, roaring together with hurricane force, then melded in a rush of dazzling heat. This time, their Powers didn’t just mingle—they merged.
Became one.
She and Rowan truly bonded in mind, body, and spirit.
He plunged hard and fast, taking her. Owning her. She no longer knew where she ended and he began. Her passion intensified his, and his heightened hers. Consumed her.
Want building. Need coiling.
Rowan’s unguarded gaze entwined with hers, his every defense gone. She saw all that he was. All that he feared. All that he wished.
Her soul recognized its mate. The fact he trusted her enough to let her as deeply, intimately inside him as he was in her, made her heart stumble. She fell headlong into the warm depths of his shining sea-green eyes.
Drowned in him.
Green and gold lightning bolts erupted around them. Their combined lifeforce radiated into the undulating sea, then surged back twice as strong into their joined bodies. Heat and light glittered through Delaney’s veins, pulsed in her core.
Their shared Power burst into supernova and exploded in every cell of her being.
Rowan!
Aye, that’s it! He thrust deeply as she crested, carrying her unbelievably higher, faster. Farther than she’d ever been.
Before she’d floated even halfway down, he demanded, Again for me, luv!
Gripping his shoulders, she flew upward once more. I want…you with me…this time!
I am, sweetheart. When she peaked again, he poured himself into her, gasping and shuddering. “Delaney.” Her name was a hoarse prayer on his lips, his gaze fiercely possessive. Mine!
Exhilaration sang through her as she accepted his claim. Yes!
Then he slowed, prolonging the pleasure. Just the two of them suspended in forever.
Finally, he went still and buried his face in her hair, panting in shaky breaths. She was trembling uncontrollably. So was he.
Through their shared link, Rowan’s sudden, unexpected wave of guilt and despair slapped at her. He made a choked sound.
“Rowan?” Unease slithered through Delaney as she rubbed his back. “What’s wrong?”
He recoiled from her touch. From her mind. His shields re-formed and slammed down, severing their connection. Shutting her out.
“It’s all right,” she said very gently. “You can trust me.”
When his head jerked up, the remoteness in his eyes speared her with a shaft of dread colder than his sword of ice. He shoved himself off her and leapt to his feet. “You should not trust me.”
“Rowan—”
“You’re the one who has everything to lose. Go home, Delaney.”
He stalked out into the spiking waves and dove, rapidly slicing arm-over-arm toward the horizon.
Taking her heart with him.
Chapter 14
Rowan drove himself through the chilly ocean. Pushed himself for dozens of kilometers with punishing strokes, until his muscles cramped and his lungs ached. No woman had ever before been able to command his Power and thrust their joint pleasure back inside him.
He’d been bound in purgatory for over a year, body and emotions locked down in order to survive. Neither living nor dead. Now Delaney had broken his chains. He was alive.
God damn, it hurt.
He’d been trapped in darkness, and she was his light. He’d been suffocating, and she was his air.
Delaney had kissed his wounds, and he’d taken her virginity…creating an irrevocable blood bond between them. During their lovemaking, he’d let her essence inside him, then he’d completed the circle by sharing his essence with her. In water, his element. To drive the final nail into his coffin, he’d forged their link on sacred ground.
The sky darkened, reflecting his misery.
He’d like to delude himself into thinking the blood bond resulting from their union had been none of his doing. Just the outcome of a blinding explosion of mutual lust. But subconsciously, he had to have realized the consequences of so intimately joining with her. Must have wanted it.
Hadn’t he learned a fecking thing from his catastrophic past? Though he yearned for Delaney with every cell of his being, he was sworn to carry out his vows.
With a mere th
ought, Rowan detonated a monstrous tsunami…and rode the five-story wall of water barreling across the open Pacific.
He could not have a future with her.
But he could now have her Powers.
* * *
Standing in the lighthouse window, Delaney stared out at thrashing gray waves as the feeble dawn struggled alive. Her spirits were as turbulent as the foreboding storm clouds overhead. In spite of Rowan’s order to leave, she’d waited two days. And nights.
Now it was day three. He hadn’t yet returned.
Maybe something had triggered the wards like before, and he was out fighting. Maybe he’d meet her back in the city.
She wrapped trembling arms around herself in a vain effort to banish the chill. He’d completely cut her off. She couldn’t contact him, couldn’t sense him. Shivers wracked her.
Maybe she’d scared him away forever.
When they’d made love, it had also been his first time. Not physically. Emotionally. His soul had been as untouched as her body. He’d opened himself, shared his Power with her. Shared his very essence. Rowan had let her see the wounded part of him he’d hidden from everyone else.
Delaney understood more than anyone the terror that drove her dauntless warrior. His heart was unprotected. Vulnerable.
And he was out there all alone.
Desolation leadened her feet as she plodded down the hundred and ten stair steps. Their shared connection—and their shared risk—hadn’t been one-sided. She’d also entrusted him with the most precious elements of her being.
Whether he’d accept, or reject her, was now his choice.
* * *
As soon as the GTO rocketed across the capricious border into cell service land, Delaney called Archer. She got his voicemail and left a message saying she was on her way back, and all right.
“All right” being relative.
It was Friday. Which meant Van would have sublimated her aversion to mornings and already gone to her day job, so she could leave early and snatch a nap before late shift at Archer’s club. Weekends were insane at Starry Night. Delaney sped straight to Vanessa’s office building, parked, then grabbed the elevator to the ninth floor.
The instant Delaney walked into Van’s office, her friend took one look at her face…and hung up the phone in the middle of a sentence. “Crap on a cracker,” Van gritted. “Sir Naked Scottish Hunk?”
Delaney merely nodded.
“The rat bastard.” Vanessa kicked back her chair and rushed around her desk to embrace Delaney. “I knew something was up with you these last couple of weeks. He broke your heart, didn’t he? He’s a man…of course he did. You want I should take my Louisville Slugger to his balls?”
Delaney choked on a half-laugh, half-sob. “The jury’s still out on that.”
“C’mon.” Van slung an arm around Delaney’s shoulders. “This calls for ice cream for breakfast.”
Over hot fudge brownie sundaes and gallons of coffee, Delaney confided everything to her best friend. Well, as much as she could, leaving out the woo-woo.
Vanessa squeezed her hand from across the table. “I knew when you finally fell, it’d be hard and fast.”
“What is it about me that makes men run away?”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s not you. The Y chromosome induces commitment-phobia. If there’s anything I can do…”
“Just letting me talk it out helps.”
“Lord knows, you’ve listened to me plenty of times.” Vanessa licked melted fudge from her lower lip as delicately as a cat. “I don’t mean to go all high school phys ed on you or anything, but you did play it safe?”
“Totally.” Van knew she’d been on the pill to regulate her cycle since college. And although Delaney couldn’t explain details to her friend, a hundred-something year old Mage who could heal fatal wounds wouldn’t give her any nasty little surprises. “I’m good. Physically, anyway.”
“Men.” Van scowled. “The reason women boil bunnies.” Her spoon clinked into her empty dish. “You done eating? Because retail therapy is next on the agenda, my treat. After all, it’s nearly your birthday. And Nordy’s just put a fabulous pair of do-me-against-the-wall red suede boots in their window.”
Retail therapy with her best friend—and new boots—sounded wonderfully normal.
Five and a half hours later, Delaney let herself into her apartment and dropped a pile of loaded bags onto her white denim slipcovered sofa. She and Van had shopped until they’d dropped, then eaten lunch out. Golden autumn sunshine had even burst through the cloud cover and blessed them with a splendid Indian summer afternoon.
She staggered into her bedroom and fell facedown onto her bed, where exhaustion swept her into a mercifully dreamless sleep.
When she jerked awake, it was dark. Several heart-pounding minutes passed before she remembered she was in her own apartment. By herself. No monsters, no demons.
No Rowan.
She checked the clock, shocked to discover it was nearly eight p.m. Archer had left a return message on her voicemail. He’d been extinguishing managerial fires all day, and wanted her to meet him downstairs in his club to catch up. She really didn’t feel like drinking, dancing, or making merry. Much less spilling her guts to Archer. But, hey, hanging out in a fun crowd and listening to good music was an antidote to pining until her mercurial Mage showed up.
Samhain Eve was in six days. Rowan might not choose to be with her, but he would return to finish the fight with Balor. He wouldn’t leave Delaney to face the enemy on her own…of that she was certain.
After showering, she dried her hair and pinned up the front, leaving the back curls cascading over her shoulders and a few loose tendrils framing her face. She did a light makeup, then shimmied into a crimson silk bra and panty set Vanessa had insisted on buying her because they matched the high-heeled boots. She tugged the boots on…and the sleek fit of the buttery suede hugging her calves felt almost as gratifying as sex.
The memory of Rowan’s wild thrusts, of the way her name escaped his lips on a throaty moan when he came inside her made her belly clench.
Okay, not even close. But they were really, really great boots.
Next new purchase…a vee-neck, chocolate jersey dress that clung to her curves in all the right places and was short enough to be flirty, but not slutty. She’d impulsively charged the dress on her dire-emergencies credit card. Hell, at the rate she was attracting trouble—and demons—she might not live to pay it off anyway.
Appearing far more confident than she felt, she rode the private elevator to the ground floor. Delaney could access the club through several coded employee-only entries, but since she preferred the sensory kick of walking through the main entrance, she detoured outside. The night was clear and still warm, with a glowing orange moon that reflected off Archer’s white-hot wards around the building.
A throbbing bass beat pulsed through the double glass doors. She pushed them open, nodded to the duo of security guards, then ascended a spiral chrome staircase and strolled into Starry Night, letting the music and mystical atmosphere wash over her. Wash away fear and doubt.
It was like walking into a Techno vision of Heaven. The huge dance floor was made of the same thick, clear glass as the viewing platform over the Grand Canyon, and suspended a third of the way up between three open stories—giving the feeling of floating mid-air in a vast starlit universe. An acrophobic would freak out, but Delaney loved it. Twinkling crystal lights studded midnight blue walls above and below the floor, where hidden fog machines billowed vaporous clouds. Round glass pedestal tables with clear Lucite chairs bordered the room, each table topped with frosted light pillars of varying heights.
She wove through the undulating crowd to the bar, a gravity-defying sculpture of wavy lit glass and chrome. She smiled at the bartender. “Hey, Natiri. How’s it going?”
The petite blonde shifted her ethereal blue gaze to Delaney, and her mischievous smile flashed in return. “Hi, Delaney, not bad. You are hot tonight. The usua
l?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Natiri expertly mixed a pomegranate mojito, then handed it to Delaney. “Grab a table, and I’ll send over some food.”
Delaney spied an empty table in the corner away from the busy bar, yet close enough to watch the dancers. She stopped briefly to speak to Rini, Archer’s right-hand woman. The young assistant possessed a wispy halo of auburn hair and smoky topaz eyes, her unique style the intriguing oxymoron of Goth and cool elegance. “Rini, is Archer around?”
“He had to run an errand. He said he’d try to be back around midnight, but if he misses you, have fun, and he’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Archer’s absence bought her more time to pull her act together. Hips swinging with the seductive beat, Delaney continued to the table.
Sipping her drink, she people-watched until Van arrived bearing a tray of cocktails and hors d’ouvres. Her friend looked stunning as usual in a new saffron sheath accented by chunky onyx jewelry and beaded black heels, her gleaming black tresses swept up in a French twist. She handed Delaney a second pomegranate mojito and appropriated the chair beside her, setting down a chocolatini. “Sorry it took over thirty minutes to get to you. The place is jumping. I’m taking my dinner break so we can chat.” She looked Delaney up and down. “And don’t you look like a wet dream?”
Delaney laughed. “Ditto.” She sobered. “I know my unexpected leave of absence puts an unfair burden on the rest of the staff. I’m asking Archer about pulling extra shifts so you can take time off.”
“Between Connor getting hurt and your Scottish viper, you’ve got plenty on your plate. Doing any better after our day out?”
“Some.” Delaney helped herself to shrimp and stuffed mushrooms. She didn’t know who she was anymore, much less how she felt. “The new outfit doesn’t suck.”
“When does shopping ev—” Vanessa paused with her chocolatini halfway to her lips. “Uh, oh. Don’t look now, but guess who just showed?”
