And as his arms wound around her waist to hold her so close not even the air separated them, he nestled between her legs.
“Farran,” she whispered as she moved against the tantalizing feel. She rubbed against his length, mystified by the pleasant friction. Last night his mouth had worked wonders. But this exceeded that ecstasy. This felt right. As if all her life she’d waited for him. For this moment. The insistent nudge against her opening came with deeper feeling. More profound sensation. As if making love to Farran somehow gave her honor.
His moist breath kissed her shoulder, and he cupped her bottom in his hands. “Aye.”
The simple affirmation dissolved what remained of her hesitation. She allowed her hands to wander, to memorize the curve of his spine, the solid mass of muscle that comprised his back. As she curled her fingers into his tight buttocks, she turned her head to the mirror once more.
The sight set her aflame. His body mirrored the undulation of hers. Her curves fit into all his flat planes like interlocking jigsaw pieces. She looked so slight, and he so powerful, and yet their reflection retained grace. None of the awkwardness she’d imagined. He held possessively, but with the reverence one might give a cherished treasure.
And for the first time in her life, Noelle felt beautiful.
She turned away from the mirror and scattered kisses over his shoulder. Farran gradually let go, hesitating to take his hands off her as he stepped toward the full tub. One hand wound around her wrist, he brought her to the edge and turned off the faucet. “Come, let me bathe you.”
This time, she didn’t hesitate. With the confidence of a queen, Noelle stepped into the tub. Before he could pick up the waiting washcloth, she pulled it off the hook.
* * *
Farran cursed every saint he knew in English then in French, then did it again as Noelle rained water on his body. The press of her hand, the boldness he had desired, but didn’t know what to do with, drove him to lunacy. If she had been any other woman, he would have hauled her onto his lap and impaled her to ease the ache in his loins. But she was not. No matter what courage her hands and mouth held, beneath it all, she was still as innocent as a lamb. He could not allow himself to forget that fact and allow his desire free reign.
He sat stock still as she lathered his chest. The plunk of the rag into the water, the pelt of water as she squeezed it out, the slide of her bare leg next to his, all left him shuddering.
He would not survive much more of this. Their hot play had done too much damage to his already weak control.
Inhaling a sharp breath, he caught her wrist and wrested the cloth from her fingers. He could tell by the heavy flutter of her lashes she felt the same ache he suffered. But he could not understand why she did not seek to find relief. Why she did not ease herself into his lap, down upon his straining shaft, and take them both to paradise. The water would ease her discomfort. ’Twas what he had hoped. That this bath would bring them together at the pace she preferred.
Clearly, he had assumed wrong.
He dipped the rag beneath the surface then pressed it to her breast. Her nipples pebbled beneath rivulets of water. Her skin glistened soft pink from the arousal he had stirred. He could not recall a greater pleasure, and pride infused him with a swell of warmth. She responded to him like no other. Even at this relatively innocent caress, she arched her back, closed her eyes.
He leaned forward to lap at a drop of water that clung to the soft swell of her breast. “Noelle, I ache to ease my desire inside of you.”
The tremble that vibrated through her and into him flared his senses. If ’twere possible, his cock stiffened even more. He raked his teeth across her shoulder, then nipped the tender flesh at the base of her throat. Her hoarse moan rendered him senseless. Sliding a hand up her silken thigh, he found the sensitive flesh at the juncture of her legs and manipulated her tender bud. She leaned back a fraction, giving him enough room to delve deeper.
Finding her mouth, he kissed her with all the pent-up hunger he had stored away and eased one finger into the warm recesses of her feminine sheath. Her slick folds tightened, the heat of her enough to scald. The water sloshed against the basin as she moved against the slow steady thrust of his hand. Each time she brought her body forward, he pressed his palm against her most sensitive spot until she shuddered and her teeth pricked his lower lip.
Shocked, Farran drew away on a hiss. But where he had expected to find a trace of annoyance, some outward sign that this was not what she wanted, he found her eyes closed, her expression soft with rapture. God’s toes, she had not even realized she bit him.
His chuckle came out in a rough bark, and he chose the safer haven of her delicate neck to sate his need to taste her. Fervently she lifted into him. He entered her once more, and the moist warmth that sheathed him gripped tight. “More…” With the quiet cry, her body convulsed.
’Twas all Farran needed to dismiss any hesitation he might have had about her wishes. He stood and scooped her into his arms. Heedless of the water that pooled behind them on the floor, he lifted her out of the tub and carried her to the bed. There he laid her down with care and eased his body onto hers.
Her lashes lifted, her smile sated and sublime. She looped her arms around his neck, encouraging his mouth to hers, and spread her legs to accommodate the width of his hips. Long past the ability to temper his body’s demands, Farran eased the head of his throbbing cock into her tight silken flesh that further verified her innocence. Noelle went rigid in his arms.
He halted, his spine as stiff as steel, as he tore his mouth off hers. She stared, her eyes as large as saucers, and pushed at his shoulder in an attempt to dislodge him. It took several deep gulps of air to curb the instinctive need to thrust in deep and find strength enough to speak. “Relax, angel. ’Twill hurt only for a few moments.”
In truth, he did not know. He had never had an innocent before. But he counted on the wise words once spoken to him and his father’s timeless guidance to prove him right. God’s teeth, she was so wet and tight. ’Twas hell on earth to lay here motionless, waiting for her body to accommodate him.
Noelle, however, took matters into her own hands. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, dug her nails into his shoulders, and thrust her hips hard. He slid through her tight sheath to find himself seated at the mouth of her womb. Air spilled from his lungs in a rapid rush, sensation pummeled through his body. Jesu.
Robbed of thought, of the very ability to function under his own power, he yielded to instinct. Finding her mouth once more, he tangled his tongue with hers and drew her into the timeless dance of lovers. The heat their bodies created infused him with such ecstasy a familiar tide of feeling surfaced. But this was somehow different. Somehow richer. As release pounded at him, a more unsettling sensation broke free. One that lacked words, or definition.
Noelle’s body demanded all he could give, and he gave it freely. Knowing he was lost, knowing he could not return from this bliss she carried him to, he thrust and slid, plunged and retreated, each stroke a promise of loyalty he dared not speak. They glided together as one, their bodies slick with sweat and the remnants of their bath. Their breaths mingled, their lips never parted for more than the time it took to recapture their kiss.
The tide inside him crested, built to intolerable heights. As it crashed over him, he drowned in perfect pleasure. Noelle’s cry joined his hoarse shout. Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him tight, forbidding him to move as if he could so choose. Her flesh milked his seed until he had naught left to spill.
The rhythm of their bodies slowed, along with the velocity of their breathing. Utterly spent, Farran collapsed into her heavenly embrace. He had done the unthinkable. He had let her through every barrier he knew. And to his horror, he had come to care for this little scrap of a woman.
He closed his eyes on a contented sigh. He did not regret doing so. No woman who bared her soul so freely could be capable of betrayal.
CHAPTER 30
Magic.
It was the only word Noelle could find to describe what she’d just experienced. Not illusion, for the man in her arms was no trick of lights and mirrors. The pleasure he’d given her wasn’t the product of a sleight of hand. He’d exposed her to the purest form of divine intervention she could imagine.
She furrowed her brow, catching her second reference in one evening to a greater power. God, to be exact. No, maybe not God. She wasn’t ready to go that far. Until she could transport everything she’d discovered back to her lab in D.C. and the mass spectrometry equipment she trusted implicitly, the possibility for answers still remained. Though the margin of error grew smaller, she wouldn’t surrender to the concept of an all-powerful creator until she’d eradicated all alternatives.
But Farran’s body was magic all the same.
She snuggled deeper into his arms, luxuriating in the feeling of having him deeply embedded inside her. In a million years, she’d never dreamed a man could fit so right. As he dusted his mouth against the side of her neck, she let out a sigh that matched his sated exhale and dragged her fingers through his long hair.
“That went a little better than I thought it would.”
He chuckled. “Ah, Noelle, how you amuse me. Your innocence is naught less than enchanting.” Easing himself out of her body, he rolled to his side and lifted on one elbow. Head propped in his hand, he splayed his fingers over her belly. “Should it concern you, I am incapable of producing a child.”
“Oh.” Though nothing could explain the brief disappointment she experienced with his words, she felt it all the same. She told herself it didn’t matter. That children with Farran had never been a part of her imaginings, and she didn’t care if he could father kids or not. But still, the knowledge this incredible man couldn’t ever experience the joys of fatherhood left her with a strange sadness.
She pushed the uncalled-for reaction aside and found a smile. “I guess I should have thought about that.”
“Nay, you have little to be concerned with. I cannot give you sickness either. The only taint I shall ever carry is the darkness of Azazel.”
The hair at the back of her neck stood on end at his subtle reference to his claims of immortality. Her gaze jumped to the faint scar on his shoulder, nearly invisible two days later. The mark on his forehead was the same—nothing but a narrow line she had to squint to see. He’d needed stitches. No medical advances could heal that quickly.
Her mind fought against the obvious. She didn’t want to believe he was some ancient knight who’d live forever. Couldn’t. That she even considered the possibility made her feel like she belonged in the loony bin. And yet, how could she argue when his wounds healed at extraordinary rates and every last damn word he uttered came with earnest conviction?
Not to mention the torc wrapped around her arm.
She fingered the thin metal band, drawing Farran’s gaze onto the glinting bronze. He reached out, encircled the trinket, and slid it down over her elbow and wrist. Holding it to the light, he studied the rich play of colors in the patina. “My duty is to protect you. I cannot fulfill that responsibility so long as you refuse your oath. Will you take it, now that you know how it shall be between us?”
Noelle blinked. Her heart seized as she came to the startling realization all the tenderness he’d shown her could be nothing but farce. She sat up suddenly and peered at him. “You think I’ll make some vow that will keep me here because we had good sex?”
His forehead furrowed in a deep frown. “Why would you not? ’Tis your duty.”
White-hot anger blistered through her. The cad! The arrogant, deceitful jerk. She snatched at the sheet and tugged it over her nakedness. Fool! She should have known better than to trust his pretty words. All he’d wanted was to coerce her into agreeing to that promise. Just like every other guy she’d mistakenly believed in, Farran disappointed the moment her defenses dropped.
Fury turned her hands to tight fists she clenched into the sheet. “How could I be so stupid? I believed you, Farran.”
It was his turn to bolt upright. His scowl cut sharp. “Believed what, damsel? That I would forget my responsibility to you? I seek only to keep you safe.”
She shook her head. “No. You only care about what you want. The fact you’d seduce me to obtain it sickens me. Get out. I might be naive, but I’m not stupid.”
He spluttered, his expression a mask of disbelief. “What manner of absurdity…” He snapped his mouth shut, opened it, then closed it once again. Blinking several times, he stared as if he couldn’t believe she’d seen through his thin disguise. “Noelle…” He reached for her.
She moved faster. Jerking the sheet free, she scrambled from the bed. “Get out, Farran. I don’t want to hear any more of your pretty words. They’ve done enough damage. You could have had me so easily. But the fact you went to this extent…” She trailed away as her voice cracked. “Just get out,” she finished on a choked whisper.
* * *
Farran tried once more. Lunging across the bed, he attempted to catch hold of Noelle’s hand and drag her back into the pillows where he could talk sense into her. Damnation, what had gotten into her head? Was it so difficult to believe he meant his words—that he wanted to ensure no harm could come to her? Had he not proven himself worthy of her trust?
As she recoiled as if his touch would scald, annoyance cracked through his diminished patience. Fine. If she wished for him to leave, he would. He would not beg. ’Twas not part of his nature. Once mayhap. Never again. When she could use the logic she so prided herself on, he would explain.
He threw himself from the bed and stormed to the bathroom to collect his clothes. But when he returned to the bedroom fully dressed and found her huddled on the edge of her bed, his annoyance turned on him instead. Saints’ blood, he could not blame her for misconstruing his words. He had been vague, and she had yet to comprehend the deeper meaning to the oath her position demanded.
“Noelle, I would not play you false.” He approached the side of the bed he had lain on and curled his fingers into his palm, resisting the urge to reach for her a third time. “I worry for your safety. With the oath, you shall gain my immortality. ’Tis the only way I know to keep you from Azazel.”
Her disbelieving snort lanced pain through his tightening heart. “And I suppose you’re ready to suck up your pride and fulfill your part of the bargain?”
He hesitated on the word aye. No matter how he tried, ’twould not dislodge from the back of his seizing throat. His pulse quickened at the prospect, but the deeper-rooted fear of betrayal wound an impassible barrier between his mind and his tongue. He cared for her, aye. But he was not ready to take the final vow. To give his loyalty to her and be bound for eternity to place her above all others.
She looked over her shoulder awaiting his response. The tears gathered in her eyes tore him into pieces. He swallowed hard, knowing he must make this right, yet unable to grant her request.
“Like I thought.” Sadly, she shook her head and turned away. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still just a pawn in your stupid game. Take me home, damn it.”
Farran opened his mouth to protest, then slowly closed it. He dropped the torc on the bed. What use was it to argue when he could not grant her what she needed? He had pushed, aware he should not. Spoiled the most incredible night he had ever experienced. The enormous cavern between them left him hollow and wanting. If he could but somehow bridge it …
He turned for the door, hating himself. Hating Brighid for the monster she had turned him into.
* * *
Noelle refused to cry. As the door thumped shut, she pulled in a deep breath and forbade the tears to fall. Soft purring from the foot of the bed drew her out of her dismal thoughts, and she instinctively reached for her cat. Scooping him into her arms, she buried her nose in his fur and exhaled with a shudder.
When she closed her eyes, all the images she longed to forget tormented. Farran holding her, Farran’s mouth at her breasts, Farran’s body
possessing hers in a way that made her light-headed. She shut the images out with a groan and looked out the window. If she had to sit here all night and replay what had turned into disaster, she’d go crazy. She needed to move. Change scenery. Go home.
If she were in D.C., she could jump into her car and spend the restless energy at the gym. Run on the treadmill until her legs burned so badly that by the time she got home she’d pass out.
But she wasn’t in Washington. She was stuck in this beautiful room, her only companions the voices in her head and her faithful cat.
Still, she didn’t have to sit here. Maybe someone would be in the commons and she could forget with a good movie. Or maybe she could weasel in on a game of pool—not that she had ever played. At the very least, she could raid the kitchen.
Unwilling to look at the clothes Farran had peeled off her, she quickly donned a comfortable pair of sweats and a navy blue T-shirt. She stuffed her feet into her sneakers, gave her cat an affectionate pat, and trudged out the door. Caradoc greeted her with a cordial smile, which only reminded her more of her current circumstance as quasi-prisoner. But the subtle trill of Anne’s light laughter that floated through her closed door, stopped Noelle’s trek toward the stairs. Conversation. Another woman to commiserate with. Maybe even get some answers to the things she didn’t really want to know.
She pivoted, hesitating only a moment before she knocked.
Anne’s laughter grew louder as she approached. The door cracked open, and her bright smile greeted. “Noelle. Come in.” She swung the door wide.
Noelle shifted her weight. “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not. Is there wine around here anywhere?”
From the concern that filled Anne’s sky-blue eyes, Noelle guessed the redhead had noticed her teary eyes. Anne stepped into the hall, dragging the door closed behind her. “No wine—alcohol is forbidden within the temple. But we can find some tea.”
Immortal Surrender (Curse of the Templars) Page 26
