by Nia Shay
He moved lower, his hands and mouth wild against my body. He nuzzled the hollow of my throat, licked along my collarbone, brushed feather-light kisses just above my breasts. I whimpered, clutching at his arms for balance. When he mounded my breasts between his hands and buried his face in my cleavage, I nearly swooned.
My mind whirled away into a haze of pure sensation. This was what I'd been missing all this time. This ecstasy. Nothing else compared to it, pleasure feeding from me to him and around again, spiraling higher and higher until our bodies were a single mass of molten desire. Until our souls intertwined, the way they were intended to.
I was ready for all that. Honestly, I was. But as Zeph laid me back on the mattress and moved to tuck me underneath him, my breath caught in my lungs. Gasping, I stopped him with a firm hand on his hip.
"No."
Twenty
"No?" he repeated, his eyes going wide.
"Stop," I whispered. "Please, just stop."
He obeyed, poised on hands and knees above me. He said nothing, but he radiated bewilderment and hurt.
"Zeph...." I sighed, willing him to understand. I pressed his hip again, harder this time. He rolled off to lie on his back beside me. I sat up, raking a hand through my tousled hair. "I'm sorry. I just can't think straight right now."
He still didn't speak. He lay staring up at the ceiling, and I twisted around to study him. "Hmm," I mused. "You know, that's actually much better."
His gaze shifted to me. "What is?"
"In fact, I think that'll work." I rolled my hips and crawled close enough to throw a leg over his waist. I'd thought his eyes had been wide before--by the time I'd slid on top of him he practically goggled. It was almost funny.
"What are you doing?"
I bit back my laughter with an effort. I had a feeling he'd take it the wrong way. "I'm taking control," I replied, leaning down to peck the tip of his nose. "You don't mind, do you?"
He shook his head fervently. "But what made you change your mind?"
I sighed, not sure how to explain. "I thought I wanted to just let go, to lose myself in you," I began, "but I don't. Not really. I want to give myself to you. Not because things got crazy--hell, not even because you want me to. I want to do it because I decide to. Does that make sense?"
"This is important to you," he murmured, which told me he didn't really get it. He hesitated, then asked, "You want to be with me still? Truly?" At my nod, he persisted. "Even though you can't forgive me?"
So that was it. I realized he'd been expecting me to push him away much sooner than I actually had. My staid, stoic Zeph was just as nervous about this as I was. And just when he'd started to feel confident, I'd started freaking out. I sighed again, searching for words to soothe him. "Yes, I want to be with you. Maybe partly because I'm upset and need to be held right now, but also because I...I want you. I want you back in my life. So it doesn't matter if we haven't worked everything out just yet, at least not to me. I want to keep trying. And I want this, now."
Even as that beautiful smile lit his face, I felt like kicking myself. I hadn't been able to force the 'L' word out of my mouth even once throughout my entire speech. Even knowing how much it would mean to him to hear it, I'd held back. I could only hope he'd read it in my heart. That didn't make me too much of a chickenshit coward, did it?
"Come here," Zeph breathed, drawing me out of introspection. "Kiss me."
What else could I do? I leaned down and kissed those perfect lips. Felt the tension in his body smoothed away by pleasure, only to build again as contentment turned to urgency. His hands traced my back and butt in lines of sensuous fire. It felt delightful, but I wanted more than that. So much more.
I kissed a path along his jaw line as I sat back, settling my butt on his lean thighs. He watched me through heavy-lidded eyes as I trailed my fingertips along the waistband of his jeans. "May I?"
"I'm yours to command," he replied.
"No," I whispered as I worked the button loose. "No commands. Only desire."
He let out a groan I took as agreement. Not that I'd been waiting on him to agree or anything--the heated response of his body told me all I needed to know. I tugged down his zipper and peeled the denim back from his hips. Once freed, his shaft curled tight against his stomach, seeming to tremble with readiness.
The sight made me quiver as well, made warmth and moisture rush to my core. I reached out a tentative hand to stroke him, my fingers tracing the velvety underside of his erection. He pressed his head back into the pillows and hissed with pleasure. He lifted his hips, helping me slide the fabric down the considerable length of his legs. It seemed to take ages, but finally I tossed his jeans off the foot of the bed.
When I turned back, I had to bite my lip at the sight of him lying there, naked and passive. Zeph gave new meaning to the phrase "in all his glory." My gaze traveled slowly upward from where I knelt by his ankles, past the sculpted strength of his legs, to his narrow hips and waist. I watched, fascinated by the rapid rise and fall of his chest....
"Jandra?" The wariness in his tone caught my attention. "Is something wrong?"
"Nope. Just ogling." I smiled wryly at him. "I'd forgotten how damn beautiful you are."
His eyes blazed again at the compliment, bathing my skin in lavender prisms. My own urgency reignited, I crawled back to him, pressing his shoulders as he tried to rise up to meet me. "Stay put."
He sank back, his eyes intent on mine. "You want me like this?"
"Oh, yeah." I moved to straddle him again. "If I'm gonna do this, I'm gonna do the hell out of it."
He smiled. "As you like."
"Like" didn't have much to do with it at this point. It was need that drove me. My entire body felt hot and heavy with anticipation, craving that most intimate connection I'd denied myself for so long. I curved body over his, capturing his mouth again as I hovered just above him. I kissed him thoroughly, then broke off to whisper, "Are you ready?"
He nodded once. "Are you?"
"You tell me." I leaned back slowly, allowing just the tip of him to enter me. Even that small contact was enough to make us both groan. His arms circled me as I slid the rest of the way down.
Once our bodies were fully wedded, he pulled me down to lie against his chest. His lips found my ear. "We are one."
"Zeph," I whispered. If I'd had something else to say, I'd forgotten it. I braced my hands against his shoulders and pushed upward, arching my back as I worked my hips against him.
I rode him with slow, steady glides, savoring every inch until we almost broke apart, then sinking down again. And again and again and again. All the while his hands skimmed down my sides and up my back, teasing over my belly and breasts. Every now and then he would pull me down for a long kiss, lifting his hips to surge up into me.
Our rhythm gradually quickened, until my rocking drew protesting squeaks from the bedsprings. Zeph's big hands cupped my butt, spreading me open wide. He met me thrust for thrust until I could think of nothing else but the slide of his body within mine. Just as I began to run out of breath, to slacken my pace, the pressure of his hands suddenly changed. Now he squeezed my body tight around his, and it was more than I could bear.
Ecstasy broke over me in a wave. I tensed around his shaft and cried out as he thrust in deep, wringing even more pleasure from my climax. He kept it up until I collapsed against him, utterly spent.
His arms slipped around my sweat-slicked back and cradled me. "Incredible."
I chuckled breathlessly. "Why thank you."
After a moment he rolled us onto our sides, still face to face, still joined. "Are you comfortable like this?" he asked. I nodded, and he slid one hand down to cup my thigh, guiding it up over his hip. "And like this?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He began to move inside me again, slowly for the first few strokes but gaining speed quickly. I gripped his shoulders and leaned back, deepening his angle. He had to be close to the edge, and his urgency spurred me on t
o another orgasm. A moment later, he began to shudder as well. He moaned and pulled me close against him again, tucking my head under his chin and whispering my name over and over.
When we'd both caught our breath, I pushed at him until he rolled onto his back. I snuggled against his chest, sighing with contentment as he combed his fingers through my hair. Perfect. Well, almost perfect--I had a fleeting mental image of Ryphan lurking outside the door, listening to our canoodling, but dismissed it as paranoia.
I'd expected more proclamations of love at this point, or at least pillow talk of some kind. I'd actually been sort of looking forward to it, hoping the afterglow chemistry might loosen my tongue enough to let me confess these feelings I'd only just admitted to myself. But Zeph didn't say anything more. His breathing deepened and his stroking fingers eventually came to a stop on my shoulder.
Just like a man to fall asleep right after sex. After a glance at his face, though, I couldn't bring myself to disturb him. I hadn't seen that soft serenity in his expression even once while he'd been in my home. He obviously hadn't been sleeping well, either.
I couldn't pull the sheets loose from underneath us, so I hooked my discarded towel with my foot and spread it over our nakedness. I reached across him to switch off the bedside lamp and nestled against his shoulder again. My mind began to drift, but I jolted in surprise on the edge of sleep.
Zeph stirred, blinking. "What's wrong?"
"I can hear your damned head voices again!" I griped. I had no idea why, either. This time I knew I hadn't drawn any energy from him in the heat of passion. I'd be feeling it by now if I had. "What the hell?"
His lips curved slightly as his eyes slid back shut. "You're listening," he said again, like he had the last time I'd asked. "A quiet mind hears many things."
I paused in the midst of shaking my echoing head. "Thank you very much, Lord Buddha. That was ever so enlightening."
One eye slitted open again. "I don't believe you've ever listened to them before," he murmured, though his tone held no reproach. "You have always surrounded yourself with noise--music, people, whatever it took to drown them out. It's no wonder you only hear the ones who cry the loudest."
"What?" Was he talking about my hallucinations? "So you're saying I wasted a ton of money on doctors and pills, when all I really needed to do was turn up the stereo a little louder?"
"No." He sighed. "Do you truly want to understand?"
"Oh sure, why not?"
"Then listen." His hand on my shoulder began to stroke a soothing rhythm again. "Be at peace and let them speak to you."
Them--people who whispered, people who prayed. People who cast their hope and despair out into the darkness, with the faith they would find a light. People I didn't understand in the slightest. The very prospect of letting them into my head terrified me.
"Relax," Zeph whispered again, already sliding back into sleep. I could feel it in the lazy glide of his fingers over my skin.
"That's easy for you to say," I shot back. But I couldn't help noticing the voices sounded different this time. This wasn't the cacophony of shouts I unwillingly heard when I bonded with him. Nor was it the high, frantic gibbering that had risen during our shared panic attack. This was a mellow sound, like the babbling of water over stones or the murmur of conversations at a sedate party. Indistinct and, thus far, not frightening.
I drew a few deep breaths and forced myself to settle in his embrace again, smiling a little as he hugged me even in sleep. I listened for a long time, drifting with the ebb and flow of voices mingled with Zeph's soft snores. There was music in it, I realized. Life rhythm set to the beating of our hearts, to the spin of the planet.
Corny as hell, I know, but as I lay there listening to it, it didn't seem so corny. It fascinated me, hinting at a connectedness I'd begun to despair of ever feeling. I found sudden new respect for Zeph, knowing the many forms this song could take, both beautiful and horrific. Knowing he rode the wave of all that phantom emotion with hardly any true understanding of it. Was that why he'd clung so desperately to those glimmers of knowledge he'd gained during our time together?
Looking back, I'm sure I'd been on the verge of some great epiphany in that moment. But it shattered in an instant as a single quavering voice rose out of the chorus. A familiar voice, edged with heartache and fear. It whispered, "Zeph?"
Twenty-One
I bolted upright in bed, ears straining in the midnight hush. Had I imagined it? Zeph snored on beside me. Apparently he hadn't heard anything.
Just as I went to lie back down, the voice sounded again. Zeph, I hope you can hear me. Or you--Jade, Jandra, whatever the hell your name is.
"Cara?" I whispered aloud to the darkness.
God, I feel so stupid, her ghostly voice murmured on, unaffected by my interruption. She laughed bitterly. I can't even remember the last time I prayed, but I...I just don't know what else to do. Please, you guys, please come back, or call me, or something. Anything. Please.
My heart sped in my chest at the raw misery in her whispered words. Whatever was going on, it has to be something pretty terrible to crack the Caranator. Unless, of course, it was all just another hallucination on my part. Or a dream.
But I couldn't quite convince myself of that. Nor could I just brush it off. Despite the risk of making contact, I knew I'd never get back to sleep until I talked to her. Ryphan had mentioned a phone in here. I pushed my hair back from my face, blinking around the darkened room.
There, on the other side of the lamp. I slipped out of bed and circled around to it, lifting the receiver to my ear. No dial tone, but after a few seconds a buzzing noise echoed from the speaker. A sleep-thickened female voice followed. "Yes, my lord?"
I blinked, startled. "Uh...no. Sorry. I'm not your lord. Wrong number, I guess." Was that how Ryphan made his servants address him? How positively medieval. I cleared my throat and added, "Listen, I'm trying to get an outside line. Do I need to dial a nine, or something?"
The woman let out a resounding yawn. "Use the phone...in the downstairs hall," she concluded, her words slurring. The receiver rattled on her end, and the line went dead.
I replaced my handset as well, frowning. What was the point of having phones that only worked within the house? Yet another little oddity in this very weird place. I wouldn't be a bit sorry when we'd worn out our welcome.
I took a moment to adjust the towel over Zeph's hips, then padded across the room to the overnight bag. I slipped into an outfit and made my way out of the room on tiptoes. Though my caution proved to be a wasted effort--the upstairs stood just as echoingly empty as it had earlier. That should have seemed less unusual at this hour of the night, but for some reason, it didn't. As I passed closed door after closed door, I found myself wondering what lay behind them. Now was no time to indulge my curiosity, though.
I reached the head of the stairs, where one large room dominated the other end of the hall, clearly the master suite. Its door stood ajar, and a faint whimpering came from within. I froze with one hand on the banister. After a moment the noise came again, a soft weeping, utterly devoid of hope. Definitely not a head voice this time--the chorus of murmurs had faded away as soon as I'd zeroed in on Cara's voice.
Breath held, I crept toward the door and peeked around the jamb. I couldn't see much in the dim light, but I could make out the pale forms of two bodies entwined on an enormous bed. One of them was Ryphan, of course, naked from the waist up.
The woman he held in his arms seemed to be less than half his size. Her pallid skin nearly glowed against the red satin of her nightgown. Something struck at odds with their intimate pose, some sort of subtle tension that seemed out of place. He raised a hand to touch her face, and she let out that bleak moan again. Ryphan's eyes lit in the darkness.
I shied back from the illuminated doorway, but when no one came bursting out to confront me, I peeked inside again. I couldn't help it. Whatever was going on in there clearly wasn't consensual. Besides, I could see better now with
the sapphire glow of Ryphan's eyes brightening the room.
I had to stifle a gasp at the young woman's appearance. Now I could see her rail-thin body, and how her bony limbs moved in odd, random jerks. Her gaze fixated blindly on Ryphan's face, expressionless, showing no hint of the sorrow that carried in her cries. He stared down on her, too, his eyelids twitching like a junkie's.
Dear God, he's siphoning from the poor girl. He was eating her alive, and there was almost nothing left. And that very fear, that crushing despair seemed to be his turn-on.
I felt queasy watching, but I couldn't look away. Not until Ryphan rolled on top of her and I could only see the smooth, pale expanse of his back. When his head reared back for a bite, I finally turned and fled, bounding down the stairs two at a time until I reached the bottom.
There, I sagged against the banister with a palm pressed to my chest, panting. I fought the urge to march right back up there and murder Ryphan in his own bed. But I couldn't do that right now--I couldn't forget about Cara. I'd heard that same note of despair in the voice of one of the few people I called friend, and I couldn't just ignore it.
All right, then. A quick call to the twins to convince myself they're fine and I was just dreaming, then I'll go wake Zeph and we'll murder him together. Sounded simple enough. By the time I'd found the phone in the downstairs hall and dialed Cara's cell, I'd almost convinced myself it would work out fine.
The line picked up. "Hello?"
"Care? Hey, it's Ja...."
"WHERE IN THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?"
I winced, holding the phone away from my ear. "Zeph and I had to go somewhere. Why? What's the big deal?"
"I've been calling you all damn day, that's the big deal! Why don't you ever answer your phone?"
"It's broken," I replied cautiously. "Cara, what's going on?"
She sniffled, and I knew I hadn't dreamed her desperate plea after all. "Sara never came home last night."
