Guardian's Joy #3

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  Her nails combed his brows and circled his eyes. Finally, her hands rested gently to either side of his face, but she wasn’t finished painting the contours of his features. Her thumbs skimmed delicately over his eyelids and danced along his lashes. Fingers close to the corners of his eyes traced the tiny fans of lines. Her thumbs left his eyes and moved down along his nose, first following the bridge and then moving out to the sides where they tracked the faint creases to the corners of his mouth where the journey had begun.

  Nardo raised his hand to touch her, but her gentle “Shhh,” stopped him and he dropped it back to his side. Her touch was exquisite torture. Her fingers ran over his lips again and daintily forced them apart. He complied willingly and brought his lips together to suck on the finger that lay along his tongue. His breath caught in his throat when that wet finger slid over his chin and down his throat to the hollow at its base.

  He felt her rise on her toes and her lips met his. As soft and elusive as butterfly wings, they nibbled and kissed until her tongue darted out and invited his to play. Still, she wouldn’t let him move.

  JJ’s eyes were closed, too. She would always see his face in her mind’s eye, but she wanted the feel of him, the taste of him committed to memory as well.

  They kissed, lips and tongue dancing together in a tantalizing ballet in which she played the lead. When he leaned forward, she leaned back, never allowing more contact than lips against teeth and tongue. Long moments passed until she finally placed her hands on his chest to hold him in place as she withdrew.

  “Open your eyes,” she whispered and stepped away from him. She stepped out of her shoes, grateful she’d chosen them over her usual laced boots. Her hands then went to the hem of her bulky sweater and she forced herself to move slowly as she peeled it up and over her head.

  She kept her eyes on his and savored his look of want and need, another treasure to hold close to her heart. Her jeans were next. Their slide over her slender hips took her panties with them. Her already hardened nipples stiffened further at Nardo’s groan of pleasure. Standing naked before him she held out her hand for his and led him to the bedroom.

  Nardo followed her, his eyes on the slender form of her back, the gentle undulation of her firm and rounded buttocks, the long lithe legs that would never cease to fascinate him. This woman moved him in ways no other woman ever had or ever would. She was meant for him. He’d recognized it the first time he saw her and had foolishly denied it. He wanted to stop, tug on the hand that held his and pull her back to enfold her in his arms and kiss away the sweet and tender sorrow in her eyes.

  When she’d stood before him, naked and hesitant, she’d exposed more than the strength of her muscles and bone, more than the silky smoothness of her skin. As she stripped away her clothes, it was as if she stripped away the last of her resolve to keep a part of herself hidden from him. She was so fragile and vulnerable and beautiful. He hoped she could see how deeply her offering affected him.

  He still didn’t speak. He understood that this was something she felt the need to do, this offering of herself. It meant more to her than sex or comfort or even love. She was giving him a gift and taking something from him in the process. He wasn’t sure yet of its meaning, only that it was important and so, going against his nature to take charge, Nardo remained silent and followed his Joy’s lead.

  She drew him to the bed, smiled at the covers pulled tight and cornered with military precision, and turned those covers back. She then turned him, letting go of his hand. With slow and deliberate efficiency she removed his clothes. His erection was swollen with need and want and when she ran her hand over him with the same gentle investigation she’d used on his face, an involuntary hiss of pleasure escaped him. He ran his hand over his head, mostly to avoid touching her and the gesture drew her attention to his tied back hair. Gentle pressure on his shoulders had him sitting on the edge of the bed and when she stepped between his knees to reach around him to untie his hair, he groaned again. Her breasts were within reach of his lips and tongue, the rosy buds already pebbled with arousal and he longed to taste their cinnamon sweetness. Forgetting his resolve to let her lead, his tongue darted out.

  An electric tremor coursed through her body at the touch of his tongue and she almost succumbed to the bittersweet pleasure of it. It took all her willpower to back away and sink to her knees. Like a supplicant, JJ bowed her head.

  This was something she had never been able to do. It was why she had failed so miserably when she first tried to earn some money on the streets. She was so frightened then, hadn’t eaten in days and was already weak from hunger and despair. The only things she had were her name and the stolen clothes she’d exchanged for those she’d found in the trash dump. The only thing she’d had to sell was her body. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, was revolted by it and now that her memories were restored, she understood why.

  That was why she wanted to do it now as part of her gift to Nardo and to herself. This wouldn’t be an act of desperation or forced servitude. This would be an act of love.

  JJ took him in her hands, felt the already familiar beat of his heart through the silken steel of his shaft. A bead of moisture had collected at the tip and she leaned forward tentatively testing it with the tip of her tongue. She was surprised by its salty sweetness and she tasted again. She felt Nardo shiver and his thighs clenched her body. Shifting slightly, she readjusted her arms so her elbows rested on his knees and the warmth of his body pressed against the sides of her breasts. She bent her head to him again, this time running her tongue along the entirety of his shaft, thrilled at the pleasure it gave him. Taking him wholly into her mouth she began to move. It took her a minute to relax her throat to accept the length of him and another to find the rhythm that seemed to bring him the most pleasure.

  Nardo looked down at the miracle of Joy kneeling before him. His hips moved against her and his hands gripped her head, all pretense of control gone.

  Contrary to the twin’s accusations, Nardo was no stranger to sex or the broad spectrum of practices that brought people pleasure. This was not the first time he’d felt a woman’s mouth on his cock. It was, however, the first time he’d felt the act to be more than an act of sexual relief. He watched her as the tension in his body grew inexorably to the screaming pitch of release.

  “Stop,” he managed to gasp. “You have to stop now because I can’t. Holy gates of Heaven, woman, stop!” But she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased both pressure and speed. Head thrown back, Nardo exploded. Roaring her name, his body rocked with emotion and release.

  His head fell to his chest and in a voice raspy and deep with emotion, he whispered the words she longed to hear one last time.

  “You’re mine.”

  JJ sat back on her heels, her chest heaving, her head bowed. Nardo’s shouted release had been her release as well. Her heart broke and her tears, held back for so long, fell unchecked and ran in tiny rivulets over her thighs.

  She’d planned on a day of passion to store away for the lonely future hours, but the sound of his voice and the emotion behind his words made her see that as much as she wanted this, it was a selfish deception. He had a right to the truth.

  Nardo leaned over her and lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. “Tell me,” he said.

  Chapter 34

  JJ closed her eyes and clamped her lips tightly together, locking her misery inside. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t watch those beautiful hazel eyes with their flecks of silver turn to lead when he heard what she had to say. She moved his hand away and dropped her hands to her lap.

  “I don’t know whether these people found my mother or she found them, but she read the tarot, cast the runes, saw whatever it was she saw and just before I turned twelve, sold off everything we owned and moved us to a place where witches practiced openly. She said it was my destiny. I don’t know if the place had a name. Everyone there always referred to it as the compound and I was too self-involved to ask.


  “Over time, Mama figured out she’d made a mistake, but by the time she realized it, it was too late. She knew she was dying when we went there and I can’t help but wonder if her decision was made out of desperation to see me cared for. It doesn’t matter now. What was done was done.

  “I love you, sweetheart. I always have. I only wanted what was best. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I was pampered and adored and treated better than the other girls who were all older than me. They thought I was special and after a while, I thought so, too.”

  She had more ability at twelve than many of the older women. She delighted in showing off her abilities. By the time she was fourteen she could not only light candles from across the room, she turn appliances on and off without ever touching them.

  “After my mother died, things went on much as they had before. I was their long awaited gift and I ignored my mother’s warnings. I worked with members of the first coven. I learned their rituals and incantations. I saw and heard things I shouldn’t. My mother taught me well and I knew some of those things were dangerous and wrong. I ignored that, too, because I was special. I was proud.”

  “You were a child, baby, a child.” Nardo tried to lift Joy to her feet. Whatever this was Joy felt the need to tell, he wanted to hold her while she told it, but she refused to rise, refused to look at him. She continued to kneel, a penitent at his feet, and continued her confession.

  “I wasn’t a child much longer.”

  After her first period, they were after her. Marion was the worst.

  “You’re a woman now and the High Lord wants to see you.”

  “The High Lord has an interest in you. You should feel honored.”

  “You should feel privileged he’s noticed you.”

  She’d seen the High Lord on many occasions in the two years since she arrived. He’d made it a point to speak with her and favored her with a seat next to him on feast days. He wouldn’t let her call him Father the way the others did. She didn’t like him. His touch sent worms crawling beneath her skin, but she never let it show. His attention was a sign of how special she was and she saw the looks of envy in the other girl’s eyes, so she never protested or refused his attention, not until she realized he wasn’t interested in Joy the child, but in the woman she would become. The High Lord wanted her for his mate. The High Lord wanted her to breed.

  “None of the women in the compound had children, not the one’s with lovers or the ones with mates. They were barren, but I was different. I already was what they were trying to create. Because of my father, I was the perfect partner for the High Lord. Our children would bring him one step closer to recreating a master Race.”

  “He’s trying to recreate the Nephilim.” Nardo couldn’t believe what he was hearing and yet he knew what she was saying was true.

  She’d refused the High Lord and her privileged life was over. She was assigned the worst and dirtiest chores, but she wouldn’t give in no matter how many wonderful things they promised her. She was special. Hadn’t they told her that over and over again? Why should she accept the High Lord who was old and creepy and ugly? She wanted a mate like Samuel. He was seventeen and the handsomest boy she’d ever seen. She’d loved him from afar forever and lately, he’d shown an interest in her, too. He showed up a lot and always when she managed to slip out from under the watchful eyes of the first coven. He brought her flowers and sometimes a treat from the kitchen. Once, he’d kissed her in the cow barn when she was supposed to be mucking out the stalls. If she was Samuel’s, the High Lord wouldn’t want her any more.

  “I seduced that poor boy.”

  “Baby, it would be hard to find a boy that age who wouldn’t want to be seduced, especially by someone who looked like you.”

  JJ shook her head. Nardo didn’t understand, but he would. He would. “It wasn’t long after that the High Lord’s Second came to get me.”

  Marion stood in the doorway of the small room Joy now slept in, her arms crossed beneath her ample bosom. Two other witches of the First Coven stood behind her looking just as severe.

  “You’ve tried his patience, girl. You were brought here for this. You were promised to us. We cared for your mother and we’ve cared for you. Now it’s time to pay up, do your duty. We’ve put up with your nonsense long enough. I knew no good would come of spoiling you. You’re nothing more than a willful brat. Well, we’re done with that. Gather your things and come with me.”

  “I won’t. I won’t. You can’t make me!”

  “Perhaps I can’t, but he’s sent someone who can.”

  Marion nodded to someone in the hall beyond the door. The women stepped back to allow him to pass. It was the High Lord’s Second, a brutal man who everyone feared. They claimed he was an angel, too, though Joy could never understand how anyone could believe it.

  He wasted no time with words. He back handed her so hard she thought her jaw was broken. He then grabbed her by the hair and dragged her down the hall. She screamed, screamed and screamed, but no one came to help.

  “If I’d listened to my mother, run while I had the chance, no one would have been hurt. None of this would have happened.”

  She felt Nardo’s legs to either side of her body stiffen and begin to grow in bulk. He was angry. She had to finish before he exploded with rage.

  “He kept me in a cell in one of the basements. It was dark and damp and I was frightened all the time. I didn’t know if it was day or night.”

  All she knew was his footsteps and the clicking of the lock when he opened the door. He beat her. Every time he opened the door, a beating would follow. And then he’d place a pan of water on the floor and a few scraps of food beside it and he’d leave without ever saying a word.

  She lost track of time, had no way to measure it. At first, she tried to use her power, but there were no lights to turn on, no candles to burn. She was hurt and filthy and growing weaker. She wasn’t strong or powerful or special. It wasn’t long before she began to beg.

  Soon after, she heard another set of footsteps marching across the concrete floor. The High Lord came for a visit. She thought he’d come to take over the beating and she huddled in the corner as had become her habit when the door was opened.

  Instead of beating her, he knelt beside her and stroked her hair from her face. An immediate warmth flowed through her and the pain from her bruises seemed to lessen.

  “Poor, poor Joy,” he said, “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d come to me. I could have prevented this. I can make it stop now. Would you like that?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes please, sir.”

  “I think we should have special names between us, don’t you? Let’s try yes please my love.”

  “Yes please my love.” They were only words.

  “Good, very good. I’ve brought you some food. Come.”

  He brought in a folding table and chairs along with a small plate of food. When he asked her to light the votive candle, she did it gladly. The flickering glow that filled her cell was like a light from heaven, the food like manna.

  It was only after she’d eaten that he told her the price of her meal. Some of her haughtiness returning with the meal, she refused. He nodded sadly, said he was disappointed and again brushed her hair away from her face. It was such a kind and gentle gesture and she felt a moment’s regret. He left and his Second returned. She vomited the meal.

  It wasn’t long before she did every vile thing the High Lord asked.

  Joy’s body was frozen in stillness. Her voice became a monotone as she repeated the litany of what had been done to her, of what those animals had forced her to do. And underneath it all, he heard the words she didn’t say. Nardo could take no more. He’d done what he could to control the rage, but this had gone on long enough.

  This time he did lift her to her feet, forced her up and held her by the shoulders. She wouldn’t raise her face to his.

&n
bsp; “Look at me,” he said. He tried to dampen the anger in his voice. He failed. “Look at me,” he shouted and he shook her.

  She raised her head enough to look up at him through her lashes and the fear and misery he saw in her eyes tore at him, but soft talk and kindness wasn’t what she needed now. After what she’d just revealed, she wouldn’t trust it. He gave her another little shake and dug his fingers into her back to force her shoulders to straighten.

  “Head up. I want you to clearly see my face when I say this.”

  He saw her chest rise with a sharp intake of breath and she raised her face to his. She looked like a woman ready to accept the worst. This was the girl she’d been, the one huddling in the corner of her cell. It was not the woman she should be, the one who was strong and fearless. He grabbed the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “You will never hang your head in front of me. Do you hear me?” He kept his voice steady and firm.

  One sharp nod was her response.

  “You will never again bow down at my feet, at any man’s feet. Do you understand?”

  Another nod.

  “You will stand strong and proud because that’s what you are, a strong, proud woman. My woman. Mine. What happened to you was not your fault.”

  JJ stared at him in stunned silence. He’d been so angry. She’d thought he was going to send her away. He couldn’t see it. He didn’t understand. He was blinded by something that couldn’t be. He’d gotten one thing right though. She’d forgotten who she was, what she’d trained herself to be. Pulling the blanket around her, she faced him.