Radiant Light: A Reverse Harem Romance (Tales From the Edge Book 2)

by Chloe Adler

  “No one wants to mess with an angry witch,” I agree. “Did they know you could shift?”

  He tosses his head. “No one knew.”

  I follow the contours of his pecs. “That must have been awful for you. Having to hide your true self.” I look up at his face. His eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s trying to blot out the memories. I don’t blame him and I can relate. It’s what I’ve been doing for my entire life too. Not being my true self and trying to protect everyone else around me. And here we are together, having both failed.

  Rhys makes a garbled, haunted sound and I know, without him saying a word that he needs to drink. Has he been starving himself again, since Amber? Once he shifted he obviously needed less sustenance, but now that he’s back in human form . . .

  “Drink from me?” I arch back over his shoulder and offer him my neck.

  He turns his head away. “I can’t, Iphigenia, not like this.”

  “But you’re starving.”

  “I’m fine.” He waves his hand in the tiny space between our bodies but I know he’s lying. For me.

  I move in, kissing his neck. It feels right to be the aggressor. Rhys growls low in his throat and leans his head back to provide me with more access. I run my tongue over the curves of his neck, pausing to nibble on his Adam’s apple, following the curves, the contours until I reach the lobe of his ear.

  “Yes,” he cries out when I take it between my teeth, gently sucking and sawing. “Oh my god, Iphi, you’re driving me insane.”

  Reaching my hand down between his leg for confirmation, I inwardly smile in satisfaction. Then I squeeze his cock, hard. He practically roars with pleasure and then lets out a disappointed peep when I let it go again, thick and heavy against his thigh. The man’s eyes are closed, squeezed shut like he’s trying not to lose himself.

  I take his earlobe in again, suck on it, then follow the contours of his body with my hands, wrapping my fingers around every warm inch of him. I graze up his muscled stomach to his tight chest. I pause to tweak a nipple. He cries out, too loud, and I place my other hand over his mouth.

  “Shhhh,” I whisper in his ear. “Don’t wake the grown-ups.”

  “I don’t know how I can possibly control myself, woman.”

  It reminds me of the last time he was in my bed here, giving me a massage. Trying to be quiet and not get caught. The man’s temperature is so high his skin is dewy with sweat and I press my body against him, sliding back and forth. He lifts a chiseled thigh and I dutifully straddle it, driving my clit against him. We scissor our bodies, the soft fabric of my nightgown rough against such sensitive skin, and he strains his head up to catch my lips.

  His tongue darts into my mouth, then backs out again to nibble on my bottom lip. He runs his tongue along the seam, tasting it. Opening my mouth, I push forward to take his but he drops back, playing cat and mouse. Dammit. The more coyly he acts, the more I want him. I reach for him again, teeth gnashing, and again he pulls back. Wrapping my arms around his ass, I wrench it toward me, grinding myself against him, a shameless hussy.

  “Go easy unless you want me to come right now,” he gasps. “Without a recent feeding, I can’t hold on for long.”

  Good. If he won’t let me bite his lips, there are other things I can bite. I shimmy down his body, under the covers, until I’m face-to-face with his hard cock. I grab it with both hands and circle the rim with my tongue. I may not be the most experienced girl in the Edge, but I’ve got an edge they don’t. Every touch, every lick, every tiny move, I know instantly how he feels about it. He wasn’t kidding; just from the little we’ve done so far, he’s close, so I back off and lick up from the base of his shaft to the rim, moving slowly and spreading my tongue wide. When I get to the top, I bite. Not hard, but enough to stop his imminent explosion.

  He swallows a cry, his hands moving to the back of my head and nudging me off him. I do the opposite and grab his throbbing dick with both hands, working them together, one moving up and the other twisting at the base. He pumps into my fists and I descend, wrapping my entire mouth around the crown and twisting my head. This is what he likes, twisting. I can hear him screaming it in his head, along with a few other things that make me wet with desire.

  “How do you—” he starts and then stops, a low grumble bubbling up from the deep.

  I move my hands and mouth faster, this time in a perfect rhythm. I want him to come in my mouth. I need to taste him and I’m not disappointed. A few seconds later he explodes with a quiet roar. The taste of him fills me—all musk and warmth. He bucks and groans but I grab his ass and force him steady. A few moments later, after he’s finished, he presses himself deeper into me. I move one of my hands from his ass down to my center and dip it into the wet pool of heat forming there.

  “Mine,” he whispers into my hair. He’s curled around me and reaches his own hand down to stop my ministrations. Playfully I slap his hand away and in his weakened state it’s not difficult. He rolls away and repositions himself. “Come back up here so I can see you.”

  I do as he commands and move to his side. He cradles my face in his hands and looks into my eyes.

  “That was . . .” He brushes his lips gently against mine, back and forth. “Shit, there are no words for what that was. It’s like you were inside my mind, like you knew exactly how to please me. I’ve never experienced—”

  “Enough talking.” I press my lips hard against his.

  He opens his mouth for me, letting me explore its depths, tangling his tongue with mine, no doubt tasting himself there. His hands roam down my body just as mine did his moments ago. Fingers tickle and trip, igniting my skin. He breaks the kiss to look at me again.

  “Will you let me lick you? Make you come?”

  “Make me come with your fingers. I want your face up here right now. I want to look at you. Taste your mouth . . .”

  “Oh yes.” His breath is hot on my face, featherlight caresses against my skin. His hands dip lower and lower until he reaches my thighs. Squeezing them, he massages the tops before slipping both of his hands between them. There he pauses again to squeeze and knead. My nerve endings are like sparklers now, throwing off tiny flames. He watches me for my reactions and I can’t hide how turned on I am, practically panting into his face. When I try to press my groin into him, into anything really, he takes my mouth again, cupping my sex with one hand.

  “Rhys,” I moan into his mouth and his tongue dives in deep.

  A hand, or maybe two, circles my outer lips and stops to pinch and gently tug. I kiss him harder and he taps my clit, which is swollen and throbbing. Just the mere touch sends shivers running up to the very top of my head and down to the very tips of my toes. I’m so turned on that even my hair vibrates with lust. His fingers swirl around my nub and then more fingers enter me, thrusting in and then pulling out to tease the entrance.

  “If you don’t stop . . .” I moan.

  “I want you to come all over my hand,” he groans back.

  “Bite me,” I gasp.

  “What?” He stops all movement and leans back.

  “Bite me when I come. Drink from me. Make me yours.” I’m so desperate to have his fingers and mouth back on me, back inside of me, I can’t stop the words from tumbling out.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m begging you.”

  He groans and plunges back in with his fingers, simultaneously shifting down my body, the way the fabric shifts over me when I perform, tight friction that heats my skin with a light burn. It’s torture only in the time it takes him to move lower and lower, until his head and hands are between my legs. As soon as his mouth latches on to my clit, I roar, my entire body flexing up into a backbend with the effort not to come yet. His mouth releases me but his fingers don’t. As he continues to propel me toward orgasm, I lower my body back onto the bed. He licks along the inside of one thigh, slowly, deliciously, like he’s licking an ice cream cone he wants to make last. The nip is dull, I don’t even notice it because
his fingers are rubbing my clit and pinching it while his other hand fingers me hard. The release builds slowly, which is surprising since I’ve had to purposely hold back, but as he sinks his fangs into the tender flesh, pleasure jets through my core and I spin faster and faster, twirling down a chasm with no bottom.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rhys

  Iphigenia’s warm blood flows down my throat like a strong summer breeze caressing my very being. She tastes like hidden ocean depths, sun-kissed promises and candlelight. The orgasm that slams out of her washes over me, carrying me, carrying . . . something out to sea. As the feel of her orgasm around me heightens my senses, driving my thoughts high above, it’s like a fog I didn’t notice before drifts away. No, that’s not right. It’s like she raises me above it, and I can breathe again, now that the heavy blanket is far below. As my blood mingles with Iphigenia’s, joining us together at her peak, our very cells merge.

  And suddenly, in a cold moment of clarity, I want to break contact with her skin and run. Just keep running until I’m on the other side of the world, too far to hurt her. Too far for anything to hurt me.

  For him to hurt her.

  But I don’t move—because as she comes down, as her breathing slows and the swell and rigidity of her body softens, the fog rolls back in and clarity slips away. I pull back and look at her. Why would I leave anyway? How could I leave my princess behind? So beautiful. So open. So vulnerable. I slam my mouth onto hers, hard. She is my oxygen. She’s my life’s blood and she’s my life, my light. If this woman can forgive me, then perhaps, in time, I can forgive myself.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Her eyes are bright with her smile, but then it dims a little. “And you’re fine with me loving Caspian?”

  “Shhh, sweet darling.”

  I’d rather not hear about her love for Caspian right now. This is our time. Her and me. No one else needs to exist in this moment.

  I focus on her lazy smile, the way it caresses her soft lips. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me close. We fall asleep, our bodies intertwined, and for the first time in my life, I feel safe. I fall asleep knowing that with this woman at my side, the darkness will recede for just a while longer.

  Thorn

  I close my eyes, swaying on the branch in a light snooze. End-of-summer smells mingle with the ocean mist in the dawn light. It’s been a long night, perched outside of Iphi’s window. One of the downsides of being a shifter for most is exceptional hearing and sight. When I realized she and Rhys were going at it, I flew to another tree. Far enough to give them some privacy but close enough to keep my eye on the front door and her window. If any ghouls tried to break in, I’d be on it.

  Too bad Dominic wasn’t here with me. I’d have encouraged him to fly closer and watch. I know he likes to watch.

  Instead, I spent the night replaying other images in my head, all G rated. At first, anyway. Flying along with Dom in his shift earlier, the two of us fighting together, brought up so many memories. And then seeing Rhys as Botting. It was like we were all kids again, getting into trouble and doing whatever we could to stick together. When we were running around New York, I never stopped to think about the past or the future. The only thing I could deal with was figuring out how to get all of us through each day with food and water and a place to crash.

  They were my responsibility. Always. I was only fourteen when Rhys and Nolan joined our little pack. I’m thirty now. An old thirty. Sometimes it feels more like fifty. If I hadn’t stepped up, we’d all have grown up in foster care, and that was a roll of the dice we couldn’t afford to lose. Plus we’d have been split up. Signum given to humans or other Signum who didn’t understand us. Plus Nolan and Rhys being crossbreeds, their own grandfather unwilling to raise them.

  That shit doesn’t let up, even at my age. I still want to protect them. Rhys and Nolan are the babies. They’ve both had issues controlling their emotions in the past. Shit, we all have. Rhys and me are the hotheads of the bunch, and it’s backfired on both of us, numerous times.

  So the least I can do is make sure he doesn’t get caught giving his girlfriend some much-deserved nookie.

  I cock an eye open as a noise pings on my radar. Someone’s walking down the hallway to Iphi’s room, and the stride doesn’t sound friendly. I dive down to the ground below, scoop up a pebble from a decorative planter, and fling it at the window all in one move. One smooth move, if I do say so myself.

  I surge back up to my lookout post. Inside, the lazy asses sit bolt upright in bed. Just in time too, because those angry steps can only be Aurelia’s. But the idiots just blink in the early morning light streaming through their window.

  Come on, you dumbasses, move.

  “Why are you still in bed?” Aurelia screeches from the hall.

  Iphi’s arm shoots up and I flinch, thinking she’s going to slap Rhys. Instead, the length of her arm sails by Rhys’s head, and her bedroom door, which had been ajar, slams shut. Hard.

  “What are you doing, girl?” Aurelia asks, seething as her hand rattles the doorknob. “Did you add a door lock while I slept? Or is some hulking monster of a man in there with you, holding it closed?”

  Iphi and Rhys exchange wide-eyed looks. “I have no idea how I’m doing this,” she whispers. “My magic has never worked this way before. Quick, hide!”

  Finally, Rhys moves, throwing back the covers and diving under the bed. Just as his butt disappears under the dust ruffle, the door flies open and bangs against the bedroom wall. Ouch. That’s gonna leave a dent in the drywall. But better the drywall than Rhys’s head.

  The pebble I threw rests on the windowsill, forgotten.

  Iphi sits up in bed. The sheets have fallen away from her frame and she’s topless.

  “Why aren’t you decent?” Aurelia shoots daggers out of her eyes. She’s one of the most powerful witches in the world, so she could probably make them literal daggers if she wanted to.

  Iphi pulls the sheet up to her chin. “I was sleeping. Am I not allowed to sleep in the buff in my own bed?”

  “Yes . . .” Aurelia stops and looks around, her eyes squinting like she can see everything that happened here before she threw open the door. “. . . of course you are. Don’t be silly.” She runs her hands along her day dress, a stunning off-white lace and satin thing. The woman even lounges like a queen. “Would you like to have breakfast with us?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll leave you to it then. We’re eating in the dining room, not the kitchen.” Aurelia closes the door softly behind her.

  Iphi squeals and a second later she drops her body over the side of her bed and looks underneath it. “That was too close for comfort.”

  I’ll say.

  I close my eyes against the morning light again. Best lookout ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Iphigenia

  I check my phone a few times while standing and waiting for Burgundy at Confections, our local sweetshop. It’s been almost twenty minutes since the time she agreed to meet me. I tap my fingers against my screen.

  I hope I’m making the right decision, talking to her about the men. If anyone knows about making multiple partners work, it’s Burgundy. And now that I’ve had several more days to practice the protection spell, casting it over the circus as well and working on making a proper amulet for myself, I’m ready to broach this subject again. Unfortunately, I still don’t know if all of my efforts are working. How long will the wards last? Are they even functional? They still remain untested. I’m tired from all the spell casting and finger pricking, and I’m running low on money to buy more of the essential ingredients. At least it’s kept me preoccupied instead of worrying where Rhys is. He slipped out after our sexual encounter and hasn’t returned since. He’s probably exploring the neighborhood as Botting, or at least I assume he is, since he hasn’t responded to any of my texts.

  When Burgundy finally saunters in thirty minutes late, she’s flushed, a
light sheen of sweat covering her face. Her smile is huge and she has trouble keeping it in place as she slides in next to me.

  “You look like you just . . .”

  She holds up a hand. “I am not FF.”

  “FF?”

  Burg rolls her eyes. “Freshly fucked. Next guess?”

  I giggle. “Did ya take up jogging?”

  “Nope. Next?” She points to her long, dark hair.

  I narrow my eyes as if that’ll make a clue appear.

  She takes my hand and brings it up to her hair. It’s slightly damp.

  “Swimming?”

  “Closer,” she purrs.

  Although I wouldn’t be surprised if she started, I never suspected Burg would take up swimming. Her lovers do own a scuba shop on the pier but that still doesn’t account for the heat radiating off her body. “Hot tub?”

  She taps her nose with a finger. “After diving.”

  “Since when do the Aaron brothers have a hot tub at the shop?”

  “Since Tiyah and I talked them into it.” She stops holding back her smile and it shines as bright as the sun.

  “And how did you two do that?”

  “By agreeing to only go in naked.”

  I cover a snort with both hands. “Why didn’t I guess that?”

  “Right? No clue.” She shrugs, all mock nonchalance.

  “So how’s your act going anyway?”

  “With Tiyah?”

  I nod and force my phone back into my too-small pocket, where it juts halfway out.

  “We’ve perfected our act. When you last saw it, we were just starting, but now the striptease is, well . . . perfection.” She winks at me.