Bound to Blackwood

by Sharon Lipman

  Thorn drew himself away from her mouth, his nostrils flaring, his eyes glowing white hot. His voice was breathless, "Lena," was all he said. Yet she could hear the yearning in that single word.

  Her voice had deserted her and her breathing was hard. She moved her hand upwards and pierced his ruffled black hair with her fingers, pushing his unruly locks away from his stunning eyes. She searched his face, willing him to need her as much as she needed him.

  The way she looked at him made the blood roar around Thorn's head. Collecting her lithe body in his arms he made his way towards the bed, all but throwing her upon the thing. As she landed the flimsy towel parted, exposing one beautifully pert breast, her smooth stomach and an ample hip. Her brilliant blue eyes met his, then dropped lower as she appraised him. His cock jumped as her eyes landed on him and then, Good God, she licked her lower lip.

  And then he was on her again. His hands roved over her pale skin, wanting to feel all of her. But he couldn't get enough. He raised himself up, yanking his muscle shirt over his head. As he kissed her mouth again, he could feel her nimble hands on his waistband, and then his trousers went the same way his shirt had.

  His hand moved down her body and she arched into it, meeting his touches. Her little moans spurred him on. His fingers brushed the inside of her thigh and she shuddered. He kept going until he reached her sex and, "Hell's teeth!" She was so wet. He bent to kiss her tight nipple and his middle finger slid inside all that delicious wetness.

  "Oh God!" Lena moaned as she came up off the bed.

  Lena watched amazed as the pink tip of Thorn's tongue licked at her breast. She was almost undone when he caught her watching and took her between his sharp teeth, teasing her tight nipple with just the right amount of pain. And all the time those brilliant golden eyes stared at her.

  His hand at her core was relentless. Slow then fast, circling her until he found her already sensitive clit. His first touch butterflied across her nub and she shuddered against him. He stroked her slowly, but she was desperate for more. She moved against him, the heat coiling within her.

  His movements changed, his fingers adding more pressure as the strokes became faster until she couldn't take any more. Yet she couldn't find release. She wanted more. Needed more.

  As body her shook with something deep and unexplained, she moved her hands over Thorn's corded muscles. The back of his neck, his broad, broad shoulders, down his spine and over his hip. Thorn's golden eyes followed her hand as it dipped lower and she revelled in the hiss he gave as her hand found his erection.

  She fisted him, her hand too small to take all of him, moving up and down in slow deliberate movements. Her thumb rubbed across the sensitive head and she smiled as Thorn cursed. She repeated the movement, her breath hitching as she relished the silky feel of him.

  She would be the undoing of him. As her delicate hand stroked his cock, Thorn knew this without a shadow of a doubt.

  "Oh Christ." She did that thing again, rubbing the glossiness of his pre-cum around the tip of his cock with her thumb.

  Another onslaught of that rich cinnamon aroma hit his senses, tightening things even further. His head snapped up and he met her eyes. They were still burning brilliant aqua-marine. Still wanting. Still needing. Holy Shit. He had to get inside her. Now.

  As if she knew, Lena moved her thigh, allowing him access to what he really wanted. He knelt between her legs, and he almost stopped breathing as he stared at what she was giving him. Then the need hit him again. He leant over her and kissed her hard as his cock nudged at the entrance to her core. She returned the kiss, her hand spearing through his hair, the other snaking over his hip.

  He couldn't wait any longer.

  He was inside her in one hard thrust and they both called out. Glory of Fae, she was so tight.

  This is what she wanted. This is what she needed, Lena thought as Thorn drove himself into her. He wasn't gentle and she didn't want him to be, but the size of him still took her breath away. She'd never experienced that pleasure-pain thing she'd read about but as he slid gently back and then filled her again, she understood what all the fuss was about. He filled her, stretched her and as his thrusts got deeper and she tightened around him, the feeling intensified.

  She found her own rhythm, meeting each thrust, taking everything he had to give her. She raised her leg higher and Thorn gave a delicious moan as he drove deeper still. She felt his muscles bunching under her hands. His movements became harder, more powerful and Lena felt heat bursting within her as she tried to keep up.

  Thorn was at her ear, his fangs scraping her neck. "Come for me, Lena," he demanded.

  Her body went liquid with his words. Wave after wave of golden heat rolled through her until it blinded her. All she could feel was him. He was everywhere. She held on as long as she could until finally Thorn lost his rhythm. She heard him call her name as he came in long shuddering bursts, his body bucking, his muscles beautifully corded beneath her hands. And Lena took it all.

  Utterly spent, Thorn's arms gave way and he collapsed. Careful not to crush Lena, he angled his body so he came down at her side, his head in the crook of her neck. His mind span and he breathed hard as he lay there, trying to work what the hell just happened. He wanted to say something. Wasn't that what most guys did when they'd just had the best sex of their lives? Tell her she was amazing, incredible even. Just say "wow" for Christ's sake. That would do.

  Nothing came out.

  His body felt more sated than at any other time in his eight-hundred years. But his mind just wouldn't get with the program. Everything felt right, yet wrong at the same time. He inhaled deeply, still trying to catch his breath and a wave of spicy cinnamon enveloped him. His fangs lengthened again. The pulse in Lena's neck seemed to beat louder, the blood coursing through her carotid suddenly the only thing he could see, the only thing he could hear. The only thing he wanted.

  Thorn squeezed his eyes shut tight, desperate to ground himself. Fucking hell. He'd already taken everything she'd offered him, yet he still wanted, still needed more. He wanted all of her. She was his.

  What? No she wasn't.

  "Thorn?" Lena said in a lazy voice and Thorn felt her move away as she turned to face him.

  He opened his eyes and met her gaze. The brilliant aqua-marine had faded from her eyes, the hue now more like her usual midnight-blue. She looked embarrassed as she lowered her eyes, but no doubt looking at his naked chest made the feeling worse since she snapped her eyes back up again.

  Say something, Thorn. Just say something. Anything… He had nothing. Nada. Brilliant.

  Lena sighed and rose up off the bed. To her credit, she didn't cover her body, but she didn't waste time in making her way to the bathroom either. The door shut with a click and seconds later Thorn heard the shower come on.

  Thorn rolled onto his back, flinging his arm over his eyes and puffed out a sigh.

  Things would never be the same again. Ever.

  Chapter 17

  Kaden paced around the den whilst Mercury poured his third whiskey, downed it and went for another refill. Ryver, on the other hand, looked like he was about to throw up. The young Guardian sat on the oversized, brown leather sofa with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

  "How long have you known?" Kaden asked.

  Ryver sighed, raking a hand over his grade one. "It's been getting worse for the past few months."

  "You mean better," Kaden said.

  "Depends on your point of view," Ryver replied, sounding desolate.

  The bitter stench of misery rankled Kaden's nose and he winced, knowing he was at least partly to blame. "Shit."

  "Yeah, pretty much."

  "On the bright side, you'll be bloody useful in the field." Mercury put his two bob's worth in as he handed Ryver a crystal-cut tumbler. Ryver gave a brief, wholly unconvincing smile before he took the drink and downed the lot. "C'mon, Young Master Jedi. Not as bad as you think it isn't." Mercury continued with what might have been t
he worst Yoda impression in history. Kaden rolled his eyes, but he was relieved when a genuine smile twitched on Ryver's face.

  "That was fucking terrible," Ryver told Mercury.

  "Made you smile though, didn't it?"

  "Yeah, suppose it did."

  "Course, you tell anyone I did that, I'll rip your balls off."

  Ryver barked a laugh. "Understood."

  And so order was restored. Shame then that duty called and Kaden had to disrupt the newfound bromance. "Ryver. You know I have to ask."

  Ryver sighed, the smile slipping from his face. "Yeah, I know, Boss. And you know I'll do it if you ask."

  Kaden nodded. "You have to go."

  "Yeah."

  Honour, was, after all, everything. And Kaden was honour-bound to protect the King. He would use every weapon at his disposal, even if that weapon was a young, still-green-around-the-gills, fifty year old Guardian. Kaden watched Mercury and Ryver leave for the armoury and shook his head. This would never have happened if he were fit for duty. Unfortunately, that made it all Lena's fault.

  He thought back to his last conversation with Thorn and a slow smile spread across his face. Providing neither of them were injured, and every fibre of his body told him they weren't, then he was willing to bet the King and his Steward were having an interesting time. Lena and he didn't discuss their love lives because, well, how weird would that be. Maybe his first response to Thorn's unexpected jealousy had been right. Maybe Lena was Thorn's Amocinta.

  As soon as he thought the word, Soraya's beautiful face appeared in his mind. Now that was just plain fucking stupid. No way in hell he was getting mated any time soon, and the Princess was a step too far, even for the Keeper of the Watch. A frown furrowed his brow.

  What did he know about mating anyway? What did any of them know? The population had dwindled in the past few centuries and Kaden didn't think there were any true pairs left. Nobody got mated nowadays. Did they? He had to admit, he had no idea.

  He'd heard tales of true matings. The finding of the other half of your soul. That person that made your heart truly beat for the first time. The blood that sang only for you. Kaden didn't believe any of it. At least he never used to.

  Zipping up his sun-suit, Ryver climbed out of the armoured four-by-four with Phoenix just behind him. Since Kaden, Mercury and Sky had already been out today, they couldn't come, much to Kaden's annoyance. Soraya had given the order and although she wasn't the King, they'd all felt the power in her words.

  Ryver puffed out a breath. Phoenix and he were it. Yay them.

  Ryver had trained for this but he'd never actually been out in the daylight. The very idea scared the living shit out of him, but Kaden and the others had come back okay. Right? Right.

  He could do this.

  "You okay, my man?" Phoenix asked behind him.

  Ryver just nodded.

  "Kinda takes your breath away doesn't it?"

  Ryver looked around properly for the first time. The flowers that lined the driveway to House Bowman were glorious, a riot of colour far brighter than anything he could have imagined. No one still alive had ever been to Faerie. That door had closed millennia ago, but Ryver had read about it. The Chronicles were obligatory reading for every school-aged youngling and Ryver had re-read them several times since. He couldn't have imagined a world so bright, but here it was, right in front of him.

  Phoenix laughed, "C'mon kid, let's see that mentalist thing of yours in action."

  And the moment was lost. "Fuck off, Phoenix."

  Phoenix just shook his head, a smile still firmly planted on his face.

  They made their way through the front door, not stopping to admire the tasteful decor or any of the riches House Bowman had on display. Kaden had told them where this now-infamous osmium door was, and that was exactly where they were headed. They marched down the wood-panelled hallway, Ryver pushing his senses out as they went. The big square of nothingness up ahead was where they needed to be.

  Standing in front of the door, Ryver focused his mind. With the osmium in front of him, he forced his other senses to shut down. All Vampires had an inherent talent for seeing living things but that wouldn't help him now. Not with something as impenetrable as osmium in the way. The thoughts he was looking for were not sentient beings, he couldn't rely on his innate tracking ability. It was his mentalist thing, as Phoenix put it that was going to help him now.

  More and more stray thoughts bombarded him all the time. The amount of crap he had to put up with on a daily basis had to have a good side. Or at least he really fucking hoped so.

  Listening to shopping lists, worries about pet poodles, thoughts that some girl's scummy boyfriend was messing around, and ponderings about trips to the doctors to see about that rash just wasn't that much fun. And they were some of the less harmful thoughts he picked up. The amount of hateful, vengeful and murderous thoughts Ryver heard every single day scared the crap out of him.

  He could do this. Well, he had to do this, otherwise his ability was little more than a cruel curse that was no use to man nor beast.

  Ryver closed his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to ignore him, Phoenix was staring at him, no doubt waiting for Ryver's head to start spinning or fire to shoot from his eyeballs or whatever, and it was putting him off.

  He listened hard. And there they were. Ryver felt a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

  "What? What is it?" Phoenix asked from behind him.

  Ryver ignored him. Concentrating harder, he began to disseminate the voices. Most of the House were asleep. Dreams were always fucked up if you had to listen to them and Ryver could hear the dreams of three male Vampires he didn't know.

  There was something about a girl — typical. Something else about his mother not being pleased; not so bad. The last dreamt of the Fallen, which was kinda weird, but as Ryver listened, he realised the dreamer was replaying an unhappy history. This man had lost someone and the sadness weighed heavily on Ryver. He didn't recognise the voice though, so he moved on.

  His heart leapt as he found someone awake, a woman voice, and he hoped it was Lena. It only took a few seconds of listening to realise it wasn't her. Lena liked to moan as much as the next woman, but Ryver severely doubted she'd be worried that there wouldn't be enough orange juice for breakfast; had to be a servant. Ryver moved on, pushing his mind to find the quieter voices.

  He found her.

  And wished he hadn't.

  There were some things you didn't want to know about your friends and he desperately wanted to unhear this. Visions of Thorn filled his mind and, oh Jesus fucking Christ, was he naked? Ryver hissed, which sent Phoenix into a fit of what-the-fuck-is-going-ons.

  Ryver cleared his throat. "It's nothing." At least he hoped it was nothing.

  Thorn. He had to find Thorn. Thorn was awake too and judging by his thoughts, he needed to feed. Well at least that was pretty normal.

  Ryver felt Thorn's need pulling at his own and he realised it had been weeks since he'd fed. He chalked it up on his mental to-do list and started to back away. That was until Thorn's mind expanded the vision. It wasn't just anyone Thorn wanted, it was a woman with long, flowing, black hair, her neck arched back just inches from his mouth. Thorn reared back, about to strike and the woman's face came into sharp focus.

  "Holy Mother of Fae."

  "Right that's it, Ryver. What the hell is going on?" Phoenix yelled as he wrenched Ryver away from the door by his shoulders.

  Ryver felt his mouth flapping around as he tried to form the words. What could he say? Lena and Thorn are doing it? Yeah right. He was sure tattling on the King's love life was tantamount to treason, and even if it wasn't, Lena would find a way to string him up by his balls anyway.

  "It's okay. They're okay." Ryver finally croaked.

  "Doesn't sound like it, sunshine. Why do you look like you've been kicked in the bollocks?"

  "Just shocked I could do it, I suppose," Ryver offered.

  "Right."
>
  "Right. Look, honestly, they're fine. Lena's pissed off and Thorn is just Thorn. They're stuck on the other side of that door, but they're both alive and well." His smile felt weak, even to him.

  "Positive?" Phoenix asked dubiously.

  Ryver nodded. "One hundred and ten percent." Ryver watched the other Guardian's shoulders relax as Phoenix puffed out a relieved breath.

  "Right. That's all we need to know. We better get going before Kaden has a coronary."

  He would have a fucking coronary if he knew what I know.

  Lena sat in the kitchen. Despite her assurances that she was fine, the servant on duty kept fussing around her, offering refreshment and asking if she would prefer to sit in the lounge. Lena didn't want either. She didn't know what she wanted, except to get out of the godforsaken place as soon as possible.

  Her mind reeled. She'd just had the best sex of her life. And she felt awful.

  The heat had finally been doused but she could still feel the resulting steam swirling within her. She thought back, trying to work out what the hell had happened. When she emerged from that bathroom she'd been desperate and some inner knowledge told her that Thorn was the only one who could save her. That she had been so god-damned needy disgusted her, but Thorn had understood, as if he needed her just as much. Hadn't he?

  Afterwards though, he couldn't bear to look at her. His eyes were screwed shut, the line of his mouth set in a grim line and Lena's heart sank to her feet. She was pleased that she managed not to run from the room crying, but other than that she had little to be thankful for.

  Oh God, her stomach lurched; she felt sick. She held her head in her hands, her fingers stabbing through her once-again-wet hair. Jesus. She had sex with Thorn. It had been amazing, mind-blowing, more satisfying than anything that had gone before.