“I picked up a few things on expeditions. There’s always someone who gets hurt along the way. But never quite this severely, or intentionally.”
“There are some herbs in the other bowl. Crush them and wrap them against the skin.”
She glanced in the bowl, picking up a sprig of dried herb. “This?” She sniffed. It wasn’t anything she recognized. Griffin nodded and she crushed the herb, sprinkling it over the cloth. It released a pungent scent and she sneezed. Griffin laughed softly.
“It’s definitely a different scent.”
“This helps the bones set.”
“So you admit you have broken bones?” She smiled as she carefully wrapped the strip of cloth around his hand. The broken ends ground together beneath her fingers and she cringed. Griffin had gone a bit pale, but she knew the hand wouldn’t heal correctly, shifter or not, if some kind of wrapping wasn’t applied.
“I’ll admit…to that.” His voice was strained and she hurried to finish wrapping the hand, tying off the ends of the cloth. Griffin drew a deep breath through clenched teeth, examining his hand.
“It feels better.”
He glanced up as she laughed.
“Not by the look on your face. But I guess I can only take your word. Now, lie down and I’ll clean up the rest of your wounds.”
Griffin tossed her a look, the imperious expression returning. She was pushing his limits, and for a moment she expected him to pull away. But his expression softened.
“I’d almost forgotten how headstrong you are.” He rose, coming to his full height. She was suddenly aware of his body, the scent of him, that he was naked. It set her heart pounding and she had to look away, even though they’d slept together, and they were mated. He’d fought for her, risked his life, and come away as the winner. But he was still a stranger to her.
“I will submit to you.”
She looked up, blinking at his words. His voice was soft, but firm, and his eyes on her face were intense.
“In heart, in soul, in body, in life. From this day forward, I give my life for you. You are mine, Addison, and I am yours. And here, in this hut, I will submit to you.”
A tear slid down her check and Griffin reached out, brushing it away with his thumb. “Do not cry. Don’t be sad. I know you miss your home, your sister…”
She shook her head. “No. It’s not just that. It’s just…no one has ever…no man has ever said words like that to me.”
He shrugged. “It’s my vow to you. The vow I should have said, if we had a true ritual. Those are the words from my heart.”
She felt her face grow warm, suddenly conscious of how small the hut was, and how large the bed suddenly seemed.
“No man has ever seen the treasure you are then, and given themselves over to that. You are a rare flower, delicate but strong, beautiful but with thorns.” He smiled, his hand caressing her cheek.
“You were put in my path by the Gods, but it was my duty to see what you are, to see the gift they gave to me. I didn’t see it at first; I saw a way to get what I wanted. And that was all. But you opened my eyes.”
He leaned down, kissing her softly. She reached out, placing a hand on his chest, fingers moving over his warm skin. She’d never felt this before, this intense sense of belonging to someone, knowing they belonged to her just as deeply.
Her hands traveled lower, sliding over his taut stomach until they came across dried blood. She pulled away, looking up into his eyes.
“Lay down. Now. I’m not done with you.” With an effort she stepped away from him.
“I should hope not.” His arrogant smile was back and it set her heart pounding again. She knew behind that arrogance was a very confident man, one who had every reason to be. With his unbound hand he pulled the pelts from the pallet and sat on the edge.
“I am yours. Do with me what you will.” He laid back, unbound hand behind his head, broken hand resting on his chest. Addison looked at him, trying to focus on his wounds, but her eyes were drawn to the rest of his body, the broad shoulders, flat stomach, long legs. As hard as she tried, for a moment she was unable to do anything but stare. He was perfect, as beautiful as any man could be.
After a moment Griffin growled, an impatient sound that brought her eyes to his.
“I had something else in mind, besides just being looked at.”
She had no choice but to laugh. “I do, too. But I do need to clean these.” She tipped her heard toward his wounds.
He nodded and lay still. She sat on the edge of the bed, and focused all her attention on Griffin’s wounds. There were three gashes, running parallel to each other down his side. She gingerly washed them, parting the edges, again picking out bits of leaves. But what seemed to be deep cuts were already showing signs of healing, the wounds no longer bleeding. The blood she was wiping away was old.
“You’re already starting to heal.” She dipped the cloth in the red-tinged water, wringing it out, wiping away more blood.
“I don’t think these need any bandages. I’d use up the rest of the cape if I did.” She looked up at him in amazement. “These will be healed by morning, won’t they?”
He smiled, nodding. “They will. I told you, we heal quickly.”
“But not the hand.”
He shook his head. “No, not the hand. It will take a few days. But it will heal.”
Addison dropped the bloody rag in the water. “That’s a pretty disgusting looking bowl of water.”
“Set it outside. Someone will take care of it.”
She picked up the bowl and lifted the pelt. There was a guard standing a few feet away and he glanced at her, gave a solemn nod, then looked away. She set the bowl on the ground outside and stepped back into the hut.
The air outside was warm, the day still bright. But as she dropped the pelt, the soft darkness fell again inside the hut. Behind her the pallet creaked and she closed her eyes, imagining what Griffin looked like, creating him in detail in her mind, every curve and line, every dip and hollow.
When she turned he was looking at her, and the image in her mind receded. He was there, in the flesh, waiting for her. And she was ready for him.
With deliberate steps, she walked across the short distance to his bed. He held out his hand, but she smiled and shook her head. Griffin raised an eyebrow, tucking his hand back behind his head.
“What did you say you were doing to me? ‘Fuss’? Does that mean disobey as well as care for?” The cocky smile turned up the corner of his mouth, and she decided two could play at this game.
She shrugged. “It means I fuss…according to Merriam-Webster to pay unnecessary or excessive attention to something…or someone.”
“And I am to be fussed over? You will pay excessive attention to me? Does that include my needs, or only the healing wounds on my body.”
“It includes whatever I decide to fuss over. And, if you behave, that might include other parts of your body, besides the broken parts.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then his eyes slid down over her body. “Is it also possible for me to fuss over you?”
“You may, when you are healed. But for now…” She took another step forward. “I do the fussing, and you lie still.”
“Really? You wish me to lie still? I’m not sure that’s going to be very interesting for either of us.”
She burst into laughter. “Not literally. Just…you let me take care of things.”
His expression clouded and he shook his head. “I am not usually on the side that does nothing. I am the one who takes care of things.”
Addison was startled by the sudden wave of exhaustion that crossed Griffin’s face. It had been a long day, not only for her, but for him as well. Longer, considering yesterday he’d challenged Xavier, been taken away, escaped, hidden in the jungle, and then fought for her, along with fighting Xavier. Any other man would be a wreck.
“I think it’s time, at least inside this hut, when you give up being the only one to take care of things.�
�
He reached for her again, his hand resting on her hip, fingers caressing, sliding over the material of her dress. “I am willing to try. You are my equal, and I trust you, as you can trust me.” The exhaustion faded and he smiled again.
“I think inside the hut I am willing to let you take care of things. I am, as you say, injured. I should rest.”
Even in the soft light she couldn’t miss the glint in his eye, the hint of that cocky smile. Her fingers trembled as they found the polished bits of wood that Daphne had fastened to the dress, pulled them, dropping them to the floor with a soft clatter. The cloth slipped from her shoulder, exposing one breast. She caught the cloth before it fell any further. Sleeping with him in the jungle, under the cover of darkness was one thing, but here, in daylight, she was suddenly shy.
She looked into his eyes and saw desire and longing, heat and lust. He moved on the pallet, muscles flexing, hips rising just enough to draw her attention to where he wanted it to go. It was very clear what he wanted, what his intentions were.
Her eyes traveled freely over his body, drinking in every inch of him, including his rising erection. No man had ever been so blatant in displaying his arousal for her. It filled her with a sense of power, and freedom. He gave her silent permission to enjoy his body, to take pleasure in what she saw, and in turn, she could do the same for him.
He followed every movement she made as she began unwinding the cloth, uncovering herself for him. His glance was like fire on her skin and her breathing quickened as she slowly pulled the dress away. With a final soft swish, she let the cloth fall to the floor and stood naked beside the bed.
The fire in his eyes matched the heat that grew inside her, starting low in her belly, filling her with desire for this strange exotic man.
She stood for a moment, basking in his gaze, and then sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand grazed his thigh, his skin smooth and warm beneath her fingers. Slowly she slid her hand up his leg, caressing the hard muscles of his thigh. An image of him as a jaguar rose in her mind, the sleekly muscled cat, the power and grace in his movements.
He lay still, watching, as she continued exploring his body with her hand. The wounds on his stomach were no more than raised red lines, the ragged edges already closing.
Griffin made a sound like a soft growl as she took him in her hand. He was like hot silk over steel and she drew a sharp breath as she began stroking him, his eyes darkening as he watched her.
He reached for her, his hand caressing the inside of her thigh, slowly, gently. As his hips rose and fell in time with her movements, his touch on her thigh grew stronger, fingers sinking into her skin.
Suddenly he grabbed her hand, stilling her movements, pulling her down until she was face to face with him. He wound his fingers through her hair, her face close to his. He lifted his head, seeking her mouth, and she gave it to him, the kiss both tender and searing.
Beneath her, his body moved, legs shifting restlessly. The hard heat of his erection rested against her stomach, and she rocked her hips, rubbing herself against him, teasing him.
The growl was louder this time, his hand sliding down to grip her hips, fingers tensed against her skin. Slowly she moved over him, her thighs sliding down over his hips, until his cock rested between her legs.
His lips were still on hers, his kiss fierce and desperate. She broke away, pushing herself up on her hands, rocking her body back as he thrust his hips upward. His erection grazed the inside of her thigh and his snarl filled her ears. She smiled against his mouth as he thrust harder.
She broke the kiss with a gasp, sitting back, resting on her knees, thighs straddling his hard hips. He looked up, eyes flashing.
“Is this still fussing? If so, I’m done being fussed over.”
She smiled at him. “I like being in control.”
“Control is one thing; torment is another.” But a smile flickered across his face.
“This is called foreplay. Do you have a word for that? The things that people do before sex?” One hand had strayed up her body, fondling her breasts, pinching her hard nipples.
His brow creased lightly and he pulled his eyes from where his hand rested to her face. His gaze was a bit unfocused. “Do you always talk?”
“Point taken.” What he was doing to her breasts made it hard to follow what she’d been thinking. His strong fingers kneaded her flesh, pinched at her nipples, sending waves of heat coursing through her body.
Between her thighs, he twisted and shifted, the head of his erection brushing against her thighs, sliding upward, slipping into her. With a sigh, she settled her weight on him, taking him into her body, giving him what they both wanted.
Briefly Griffin closed his eyes, his unbound hand resting on one breast. She held him inside her, not moving, savoring the connection between them.
His hand slid down her body, over her waist, resting on her hips, fingers tensing, relaxing, as his hips rose, pushing him further into her body. She let him set the pace, long slow thrusts that drove him deep inside her. The muscles of his hips tensed beneath her thighs, his hard thighs sliding against her ass as he pushed up again and again.
The warm air caressed her skin, and she closed her eyes, listening to Griffin’s breathing as it grew faster, her own breath coming in gasps. Little moans escaped her, matching the deeper growls and snarls of the man beneath her.
She came so suddenly it took her by surprise. Her body jerked, hips rocking forward, a spike of pleasure shooting through her, so intense her world went dark for a moment. She fell forward, hands resting beside Griffin’s shoulders, and he reached up, pulling her down against him.
In his arms she twisted, thrashed in the confines of his arm, her orgasm raging through her. It was glorious, all-consuming.
Gradually it faded, the pleasure still coursing through her, but muted, softer. She pushed away, looking down at Griffin. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, eyes searching hers. She smiled at him, and very gravely, he nodded.
He’d gone still beneath her, but now he thrust upward, sharp and hard. Every nerve in her body was alive and she could feel the contours of him inside her, moving against her. She moved her hips, but Griffin pulled her against his body, one hand sliding down over her ass.
“Be still.”
She lay still as he took control, feet planted on the bed, hips and his powerful thighs thrusting, driving him into her, over and over. He held her in a desperate hug, his breath ragged in her ear.
When he came, it was with a powerful cry, his head thrown back, thrusting into her with such force it knocked the breath out of her.
He turned his face into her neck, his open mouth pressed against her skin, muffling his final cry. With a final thrust, he came, filling her with a pulsing heat. And, she realized, the possibility of a new life. It filled her with a sudden and overwhelming sense of potential, of possibilities. And with a rush of love for Griffin.
Griffin’s breathing rasped in her ear as his arms gradually relaxed, slowly releasing her. She kissed him briefly, then rolled onto her back, pulling her knees up to her chest. Griffin sat up abruptly beside her.
“Are you hurt? Did I injure you?”
The concern in his face made her laugh, which changed the concern to confusion.
“I’m fine. It’s something women do, if they want to conceive. It’s supposed to help keep things inside.” She felt mildly ridiculous clutching her legs, so she settled for bending her knees, her feet on the bed.
“Things? You mean my seed?” He lay back, propping himself up on one elbow. Gently he set one hand on her stomach. “So this keeps my seed inside you, where it belongs?”
“Yes. In theory.”
In the dim light she saw his eyes brighten. When he spoke, his voice had roughened. “This means you want to carry my child? That you are still willing to accept this arrangement?”
“Yes, it does.” She touched his cheek. “You have to know it’s gone beyond just an arrangement, Griffin. I h
ope and pray Daniel made it back, and that someone at the Museum can find a way to use the orchid to help Grace.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I’ve done all I can, but without you, none of it would have been possible.”
A frown creased his brow, and for a moment his eyes clouded. “It is no longer an arrangement, but an obligation.” He took his hand away from her stomach.
“Oh, no. God, no.” She reached for his hand, kissing his fingers, putting his warm hand back on her body.
“No, Griffin. Not an obligation. You’re not a task I need to check off my list, or something I have to do. I want this. I want your child.”
He looked down at his hand, then moved it in a slow circle over her skin, his touch incredibly gentle.
“I love you, Griffin. You’re a stubborn, arrogant man. But you’re honorable, and you’ve shown me what that means. This whole thing started as an arrangement, but for me…it’s changed my life. You’ve changed my life.”
As she spoke, Griffin’s face underwent a transformation, a series of conflicting emotions crossing through his eyes. He hesitated, and for a moment she thought she’d gone too far again, pushed him into his controlling alpha-male role again.
But instead he leaned over, kissing her with such tenderness it took her breath away. Then he moved down, kissing her stomach. That undid her and the tears slipped out of her eyes. He lifted his head, eyes glowing with unshed tears.
“You have awakened a part of me that has been dead, that I thought would stay dead.” His voice was just above a whisper and she knew better than to interrupt.
“I told you I had a mate, that she and our child were killed. With her death, I died, but kept living. There were times I wished I had died with her. Finally the pain of her death faded, but there was nothing left inside me. Until you.”
He touched her cheek briefly, then lay down beside her, pulling her against his body. “You’ve given me a second life, Addison. A happier future.”
The light had left the hut, the air carrying the warmth of the day, but with a chill that crept into the hut. But the shiver that coursed through Addison had little to do with the temperature. Griffin’s words were more than she’d ever thought she’d ever hear from him. She curled her back against his broad chest, and he pulled one of the pelts over her shoulder.
On The Move Page 5
