Crimson Kisses: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Marked Souls Book 1)

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Crimson Kisses: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Marked Souls Book 1) Page 8

by Sabrina Shelley


  So how is it that I’m destined to love five men?

  It seems asinine. Impossible. But no more so than anything else that’s happened lately, I suppose.

  My mind goes to Xander. Could I see myself loving him? Pretty much every time I’ve been with him, it feels a lot more like hate…though there’s no denying the intensity of our attraction.

  And what I feel for Nico, even though I’ve just met him and it’s most definitely physical—if, in fact, I’m actually feeling things and not just being manipulated by his mind tricks—it’s definitely a new experience.

  I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even realize Drew and I have reached the door to my room until we’re standing still facing one another, him staring down at me with a look that’s a mixture of concern and…longing?

  I’m confused all over again. We’ve been best friends our entire lives. And I’ve denied how I feel about him for most of those. Is it really possible that he could feel the same?

  His eyes drop to my palm, where I’m still absently tracing my mark, and his crystal blue eyes cloud over.

  Without thinking, I reach up and cup his jaw, running my thumb along the stubble. This is the first time we’ve been alone since that fateful night—the night I kissed him and my world turned upside down. I want more than anything to put his mind at ease, but that feels impossible.

  “I don’t understand any of this, Drew,” I whisper, my eyes searching his, wondering if there’s some clue there. If he’ll give me any indication of what he’s thinking.

  “I know.” He reaches up and places his hand over mine, and I can feel the muscle in his jaw ticking as he obviously struggles with what to say next. “You will, though.”

  There’s so much I want to ask him now that we’re finally alone. Why did he never tell me anything? What does he know about my mother? Why did she tell both Xander and him something that they’re obviously withholding? And yes, does he feel something more for me than friendship? I need to know.

  “Tell me.” I search his eyes, willing him to open up to me. I think about how Nico can read minds, and wish I knew what was going through Drew’s head. But even if I were able to read his mind, I wouldn’t intrude on his thoughts like that. It’s too much of an invasion.

  “I can’t.” Drew shakes his head, dropping his hand. Then he looks as if he’s struggling with what to say next.

  I sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll trust that you and Xander will tell me when the time is right—you better—though believe me when I say that you’re the only one I truly trust in this place right now.”

  “Remember that, Rory.” There’s a sudden insistence in his voice with that reply, and it reminds me there’s so much more going on here than I realize. “You can’t trust anyone. Even your guardians.”

  Those words hit me with a bit of a shock. Instinctively, I know this. I have to be on my guard. But it feels inherently wrong at the same time. The men who are supposedly there to protect me against anything and everything… If I’m to trust them with my life, I should be able to trust them with everything else. But I definitely don’t trust Xander or Nico at this point, attraction or not.

  “What do you know, Drew?”

  “Just that I was tasked by our families to protect you with my life. And I may not be your guardian Rory,” a pained look crosses his face, “but I’ll be damned if I don’t keep that vow.”

  The way he says it, with such conviction, such passion, I know that of all the things I’ve been told, nothing rings truer than this.

  “I know you will. I believe in you entirely.”

  As I stare up into his eyes, this man who has been in my life as long as I can remember, who I’ve cared about on every level…I suddenly need more. It’s selfish to want him when I know I can’t be with him—even though my heart revolts at that thought. You still have four remaining marks to be filled, Rory.

  But right now? I just want to be selfish. I want to take this moment that Drew and I have and let him know how I feel. I don’t know where he stands after the kiss we shared, but the stakes couldn’t be higher now. I have no idea what the future holds. And I’m certain I’ll regret it the rest of my life if I don’t do this. If I don’t find out what could be…even if could is all it ever will be.

  Without a word, I open the door to my room and take his hand, leading him inside.

  He hesitates, shaking his head. “Rory…”

  I place a finger on his lips then softly shut my door. Placing my hand over his heart, I wait, trying once again to force something that’s becoming more and more clear isn’t meant to be.

  “I’m not your guardian.” His voice is rough. Terse. And when I look up in his eyes again, I see it. We may not put words to it, perhaps can’t put words to it, at least not aloud, but the feelings are there. And that’s how I know.

  I love Drew Iver. Yet we can never be.

  “Does it matter?” I move my hands from his chest, up and over his shoulders. “Drew I—”

  “Shh.” Cutting me off with the one word and an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he looks around the room as if he’s afraid there’s a wiretap. And there probably is.

  Then so fast it takes my breath away, for so many reasons, Drew grabs me by the wrists and spins me around, pushing my back up against the heavy wooden door and pinning my hands above my head.

  He moves in close, pressing his hard body against mine until I can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breath on my neck, and his hard cock against my hip.

  Holy shit.

  Yeah. Definitely not my BFF anymore. Or he is…but also so much more. So much under the surface we haven’t explored. And I think again that this may be our only chance to. And if we do, there’s no going back.

  A moan escapes my mouth as Drew brushes his lips across the sensitive flesh of my neck.

  “That’s right, Rory,” he murmurs, the vibration of his deep voice against my skin sending shivers through my body, straight down to my core, now throbbing with need.

  His hands release mine and trail down until he grips my waist, pinning me even closer to him, and I take the opportunity to let my hands explore him as well. I run my fingers along his broad shoulders, digging them in when he grazes his teeth along my ear and nips lightly.

  I moan again, almost embarrassed at how needy I sound…but, well, fuck. I am.

  Threading my fingers through his hair, I tilt my face up to his. We stare into each other’s eyes for so long that time seems to come to a stop, nothing existing but the here and now. And I’ll take it.

  Debate flashes across his rugged features, then resolve.

  And the next moment his lips are on mine. Searching. Searing. Demanding. We kiss as if our lives depend on it. As if a deep hunger we didn’t know existed has taken over and we’re powerless to stop its siren song.

  My body reacts in ways I’ve only experienced a few times now. It’s familiar yet different, somehow. Where before I’ve just had a physical response to being near Xander and Nico, the way my hips suddenly buck against Drew’s feels like an instinctive response as old as time itself.

  It feels so right. So perfect. Yet…it’s Drew. The man I can’t be with. But I don’t fucking care.

  My pussy aches, demanding more pressure, more friction, as wetness floods my panties, and I respond, grinding myself against him.

  It’s his turn to moan now. Or maybe it’s more like a growl. The way he bites out my name, primal and raw, makes my whole body start to shake.

  As I lose myself in the moment, Drew drags his mouth from mine and trails it across my neck again, back to my ear. He whispers in my ear, but I’m so wrapped up in sensations that I don’t pay attention to the words.

  All I’m aware of is his mouth on my body and his hand that’s now cupping my breast, his thumb flicking my nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt. Holy fucking hell. How have I gone my whole life and never experienced anything like this before?

  I cry out—really damn loud—in sh
ock as Drew’s hand dips into the waistband of the pants slung low on my hips, his fingers teasing my soaked folds.

  “That’s right, Rory,” he says, those words coming through loud and clear among the other whispered things he’s saying. “Let go.”

  His fingers move faster, skilled and sure, and suddenly I’m on the edge of complete ecstasy. Flashes of light burst behind my eyelids as my body shudders and comes undone.

  “Yes, baby. Come for me.”

  I do. Sensations like I’ve never known overwhelm my body, and I don’t ever want it to end.

  As I ride the wave, moaning loudly but not caring, Drew continues to whisper as he kisses my neck and ear.

  I make out the words Ryker, prisoner, guardian, must find.

  I pull back in confusion and look at Drew as my orgasm begins to subside.

  Wait, what?

  His eyes are boring into mine, intense, seeming to ask me if I understand.

  I shake my head, trying to, but my brain is clouded with the pure pleasure of what just happened. I’m not sure what he’s talking about because right now, I just want more of him.

  “Don’t forget,” he says forcefully, pulling away from me and letting me go.

  I instantly feel the loss. Not just of his body, but of something much more. As if that kiss…that entire experience…was a first. And a last. The regret in his eyes is evident.

  “Drew.” I reach for him, wanting to let him know it’s okay. That I don’t give a damn about what I’m supposed to do, or who I’m supposed to be with. That I want more of this, more of us.

  “You don’t understand, Rory. We can’t do this. I shouldn’t have taken it this far, but…” He gives me another look, heavy with meaning, and that’s when I know.

  All of this was to give him the chance to tell me what he did without being overheard. But he’s not done yet.

  “You need to know, Rory. We can’t be together. If a man that’s not a witch’s guardian takes her as his own, it’s punishable by death.”

  The statement floors me, and the agony on his face is enough to break my own heart.

  Drew reaches up and runs the back of his fingers across my cheek. “So you see why we can’t be together. Please don’t get me wrong.” He pauses. “I’d be more than happy to give my life for a chance to be with you. But if I do, then I won’t be here to protect you. And that’s more important than anything.”

  Here we are, finally admitting in one way or another how we feel. And it couldn’t be more bittersweet.

  “Remember, Rory.”

  Then he turns and leaves my room.

  I stare at his retreating back wordlessly, my body still vibrating from his touch, but trying to internalize the importance of what he did. Trying to recall everything he said to file away for later use.

  All of this was a way for him to give me information about this mysterious prisoner. And he did it at a cost so high he could pay with his life.

  9

  Rory

  “Again.”

  I open my eyes and look up to meet Xander’s dark gaze. The power of his magic recedes from me slowly, from my own fingertips back into his own.

  “Sorry.” I look at the floor, trying to compose myself—and failing.

  Ever since my stolen moments with Drew last night, I’ve been in a daze. I thought that being here—that learning and growing in my powers, searching for my guardians, becoming what my mother apparently wants me to become—that it would at least give me some answers, but all it’s done so far is pulled my head underwater and spun me silly.

  Xander and his demanding demeanor. The way it feels like he’s constantly having to remind himself that he doesn’t own me—that just because the mark on his chest matches the one on my palm, it doesn’t mean that I belong to him.

  Nico and his head games. How, when I’m around him, even I only catch his eye for a moment across the cantine, I feel like my body is on fire and he’s the only thing in the world that can quell the flames.

  Drew—everything I feel for Drew and everything that I’ve always felt. I’m in love with him. I know it. And I can feel it—he loves me too. But all because of this stupid fucking mark on my palm and the idiot magic running through my fucking veins, we can’t be together. We can never be together.

  Fate has decided that five other men get to have me instead. Forbidden from loving the man I know I love and destined to be with five other men who I don’t even know—let alone trust.

  It would almost be funny, if it wasn’t so fucking cruel.

  “Again!” Xander snaps the word at me and I startle out of my thoughts. Seeing me flinch at the sound of his voice seems to soften him…just too little too late. “Rory, where are you this morning?”

  “Sorry,” I say again. “I’m trying, really, but—”

  “Did something happen yesterday? Did Arendale—” Xander interlocks his fingers suddenly with mine, palm against palm, a look of concern on his face.

  I look away, gritting my teeth. “No—it’s not that. It’s nothing,” I correct myself. “I’m just…I’m tired. Let’s try again.”

  Xander’s power flows into me again and I try to concentrate on Dr. Belmont’s face. She was there in the cantine this morning, having breakfast. Xander sent me to mirror her movements. To shadow her and try to remember every golden strand of hair, the way she smells, how her panty hose rise up her impossibly long legs in the back with a single dark line.

  For a moment, I think it’s working. Xander’s power feels so fucking good inside me—like I can be anyone. Like I can be everyone.

  I try to concentrate on the faint scent of rose petals and freesia on Dr. Belmont’s skin—soft and womanly, not at all girlish, but still fresh and vibrant. I imagine her lips, their tight little smile. The coldness of her eyes, arctic blue and riddled with shards of cracked ice on the surface. The blackness of her pupils in the center, impossibly dark and deep. I dive in, sinking deeper, seeing so many strands of paler and paler gold…

  Xander’s magic surges through me suddenly, rocking me backwards like a rogue wave. I feel it in my lips, tingling with a white-hot heat. I feel it in my chest, in my stomach, across every expanse of my skin. My nipples go hard, my pussy throbs and—fuck—am I getting wet? Is this seriously making me wet right now? I need to focus! I need to—

  Like summoning a ghost, I remember the feel of Drew’s hands on my body last night. His deft, talented fingers teasing me, working me over, plucking me like a peach ripe off the vine. The feel of his lips when they caressed my neck—my scent, sweet and heady, begging him to bite in and let my juices flow over my lips—

  “Rory.” Xander’s voice sounds distant and distinctly cold. When I open my eyes, he’s looking at me like I might as well be dead to him.

  Well, fuck.

  “S-sorry,” I blurt out quickly. “I don’t know what happened—I just—”

  “If you’re not going to take this seriously, then you should go.” The ice in his voice makes me wonder what he saw—or even, what he felt. “If the feel of a guardian’s power is that enjoyable to you, I suggest you go seek out one of your other four.”

  His hand falls from mine, so I pull away too. But as I do it, it feels like this is something so much more to Xander than—well, than whatever that just was. He’s suddenly cold and aloof—even more so than usual—but at the same time, there feels like there’s something else beneath all of it.

  Hurt. It takes me a moment to pinpoint it, but once I do, it’s obvious.

  “Xander…what—”

  He waves the question away dismissively. “I saw enough. You were close, you know. Before you began…indulging yourself.”

  My cheeks burn at that. I saw enough. What does that mean, though? Could he see what I saw—was he inside my head?

  It seems so obvious now, I can’t believe I didn’t consider it before. When I’m taking my guardians’ powers into my own body…what else am I letting in?

  “Xander—”

 
“Unnecessary.” He dismisses me again before I even get a chance to figure out what to say to him—let alone to actually say it. “For future reference, Rory, I’d prefer that you did not use my power for your own pleasure when you think of…him.”

  “I—”

  “I’m your guardian. He is not. You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to want me. I had hoped—but perhaps not.” Xander is doing that thing he does with his chin—holding it just so, so he’s not just looking at me—he’s looking down at me. “For what it’s worth, you were able to turn your lips red. Before—”

  This small victory—coloring my lips like Dr. Belmont’s—is lost in my embarrassment. In my shame. I’ve used Xander—unintentionally, but still.

  But since he won’t let me apologize, and he won’t give me the dignity of letting it die, the toxic concoction of hormones in my stupid brain apparently decides to settle on a different emotion instead—rage.

  “Maybe I’m just not cut out for this,” I find myself snapping at him. “It’s a nice party trick, Xander, but I was never really good at being something that I’m not.”

  Xander doesn’t even dignify that with a response, which only makes me feel smaller. Weaker. Worse.

  Having robbed myself of making a graceful exit, I take the only other opportunity left for me.

  I storm out.

  I’m still feeling hot-headed once I’m outside of the dojo, but at least out here there’s a cool summer breeze. It blows in from the fields to the west, bringing the scent of roses along with it. The breeze cools my blushing cheeks, and my temper along with it.

  Xander doesn’t try to stop me. He doesn’t come after me. And he certainly doesn’t ask me to stay.

  Idiot! I yell the word at myself internally, moving just far enough away from the dojo to lick my wounds in peace. I find myself sitting on a rock overlooking the western fields, my dark hair blown back by the wind and a scowl on my face.

 

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