Threads of Destiny t-4

by N. J. Walters

  She’d stood there for hours, meticulously working to remove the chunk of metal, along with pieces of cloth and even bone from her friend. She’d never wavered, never flinched. Never mind that she’d been in the midst of a battle and then jumped to another world, she’d put her head down and done what needed to be done.

  He was in awe of her courage.

  He was also hard as a rock and desperate to claim her. For now, however, he was content to take care of her, doing what he needed to do. Once she was clean, fed and rested, he planned to seduce her. The corners of his lips turned upward at the thought of such a pleasant task.

  “What are you smiling about?” Her words were slow and slurred, her eyes sleepy.

  He shouldered his way into the guest room and kicked the door shut. Carrying her through the bedroom, he entered the small bathing chamber that was connected to it.

  Sure enough, steam rose from the water in the tub, a bar of soap sat ready on a low shelf and thick towels rested on a stool. Candles flicked, lending their glow to the room.

  “You need a bath.”

  “I must stink to the high heavens.”

  He frowned, seeing the self-conscious look in her eyes. Inhaling, he could still smell the light fragrance of flowers but it was overlaid by the stench of blood and sweat and the metallic tang of fear. “I thought it would relax you and make you feel better.”

  “It looks heavenly,” she added as he released her legs, holding her steady as her feet touched the floor. “I’m okay.” She stepped away, glancing over her shoulder at him.

  He knew she expected him to leave but he wasn’t going anywhere. Ignoring her disgruntled gaze, he studied the white garment binding her breasts. The bra seemed to close with hooks in the back. Reaching out, he slipped his fingers beneath the stretchy band and flicked the hooks. The garment parted easily. Marc smiled.

  “Hey!” Kathryn whirled around, slapping her hands over her breasts. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?”

  “Helping you undress for your bath.” He tried to hide his smile but he couldn’t help himself. Even dirty and disheveled, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  Her hair hung halfway down her back. Part of it was still pinned up but most of it had escaped and tumbled down long ago. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek and blood stained the edges of her fingernails. His eyes narrowed as he noted the bruises on her upper arms. How had he missed those?

  He held out his hand, gently stroking the dark blotches on one arm. “How did this happen?”

  “It’s not important.” She glanced down at her feet and then raised her head to look him square in the face. “Look, I can’t deal with all this now. I want a bath, some food and a bed.”

  “I agree.” He dropped his hand and took a step closer. She took a step backward, the backs of her knees hitting the edge of the tub. “But I will know the truth.” He glanced at the bruises on her arms and began to study the rest of her body. She was slender, almost too slender.

  She held up one of her hands. “I can handle my own bath.” He took her fingers in his and brought them to his lips, kissing each individual knuckle. Her breath caught in her throat and he could feel the pulse in her wrist quicken. “I can help.” He paused. “It’s not as if I haven’t seen you naked.” She pulled her hand away and scowled at him. “You most certainly haven’t seen me naked.”

  “Are you forgetting the dream?”

  “But that was just…” her words trailed off and she appeared uncertain. Kathryn shifted from one foot to the other. “That wasn’t real.”

  “Yes, it was.” Going to one knee in front of her, he began to unlace her shoe. “I touched your soft skin, tasted you.” He paused long enough to kiss the inside of her knee. “Smelled your arousal.” When it was done, he lifted her foot and pulled off the shoe. She grabbed the edge of the tub for support. She had to use both hands, which caused her bra to loosen, giving him a tantalizing peek of firm, white flesh.

  “You mean you really touched me?” She licked her lips. He was sure it was an unconscious action but it set his blood racing through his veins. Her pupils dilated and her breathing quickened. She was becoming aroused by the memory, just as he was.

  He removed her other shoe and laid it aside. Reaching up, he hooked his fingers in the straps of her bra and began to slowly slide them down her arms. “I know that your breasts fit the palm of my hand but I don’t know what color your sweet nipples are.” Her arms relaxed by her sides and he tugged the bra off, tossing it over his shoulder. Her nipples were tight pink buds, begging to be touched. Tasted. Using his thumbs, he traced the edges, enjoying the sight of them tightening even more at his touch. Covering both mounds with his palms, he groaned.

  He almost howled with pleasure when he felt her lean into his touch. It was the slightest of movements but he felt it all the same. His cock throbbed, an ache that only she could slake. He wanted to bury himself in her heated depths and never leave.

  Sliding his hands downward, he traced his fingers over her ribcage, feeling the fragile bones beneath his palm. He frowned again. She was definitely too slender. Had she been ill?

  She gasped as he stroked her stomach, his hands coming to rest on the button at the top of her pants. “Let me take care of you.” He slipped the button from the hole.

  Grabbing the metal tab, he pulled it downward. Thanks to Christina, he knew what a zipper was. It was a fascinating contraption but right now it was simply one more impediment to getting Kathryn naked. More of her flesh came into view and he caught a glimpse of the edge of her underwear.

  Pushing his hands inside, he couldn’t resist giving her lush behind a squeeze before he shoved both pants and underwear down her thighs. Kathryn made a soft sound in the back of her throat but she didn’t stop him. He quickly divested her of the rest of her clothing. When she was naked, he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against the soft skin of her belly.

  “I’ve tasted your honey. Traced the hot, slick folds of your pussy. Felt your inner muscles tightening around my fingers.” His head was spinning as his breathing quickened. His cock was pressed so hard against the front of his pants that he was surprised the laces hadn’t snapped.

  He felt Kathryn begin to tremble. Swearing at himself, he bounded to his feet, picked her up and carefully lowered her into the tub. The water lapped at the edges as he released her. “You can say no to anything you don’t like.” He stroked a lock of fiery-red hair from her forehead. “Let me bathe you.” Kathryn almost moaned aloud. The man was seducing her with words alone. She was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that the dream she’d had was no dream but had actually happened. That meant that both Logan and Tienan had touched her as well. Seen her naked. It was enough to make her head spin. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it.

  On one hand, what woman didn’t dream about being pleasured by three different men? If the book she’d found in the attic was to be believed, and at this point everything else had been accurate, then that kind of behavior was not only accepted but was expected in this world.

  On the other hand, Kathryn didn’t like the feeling that her life was spiraling out of control. She’d had more than enough of that over the past few months. She needed to think and to take charge of the situation.

  But, a voice whispered in the back of her head, what is the harm of taking some pleasure with Marc? She’d dreamed about the man. Fantasized about him for months now. It still boggled her brain that he was real. But he was so much more than the writer had been able to portray in the book.

  He was a living, breathing, sensual man in his prime. Older than he’d been depicted but more handsome than her imagination had been able to conjure. It didn’t matter that he was a virtual stranger. He didn’t feel like one. It was if she’d always known him.

  She trusted him and that was the most bizarre feat of all. For she’d trusted very few people in her lifetime, never knowing who might be spies for her
father. Tienan and Logan were the only other people in her life that she had trusted before Marc.

  He sat on his knees by the side of the tub, watching her. Waiting. The surety that he would walk away if she asked him to struck her like a bolt of lightning. He truly meant it when he said she was in charge. A thrilling sense of feminine power shot through her at the thought of being in control of all that masculine sexuality. Her nipples tightened and heat pooled between her thighs.

  She nodded slowly and Marc’s posture relaxed, revealing exactly how tense he’d been. He stripped off his vest, leaving his chest bare. She’d seen it before but she hadn’t taken the time to really look at it.

  The light from the candles flickered, bathing his skin, giving it a golden glow. The man was built. She was used to the lean, supple muscles of Tienan and Logan. Marc was very different. His shoulders were incredibly wide and thick, his biceps huge. The metal arm and wristbands only emphasized their size and strength. A light sprinkling of hair dusted the center of his chest and tapered down his belly. Muscles banded his stomach. His waist was thick but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man.

  From her vantage point in the tub, she couldn’t see much below his waist, although she knew what was below it was as impressive as what was above. She’d seen his erection and the heated glint in his eyes. There was no doubt that he wanted her.

  For a woman who’d always been treated as an oddball, a misfit, this was heady stuff. There was no faking that kind of response and it was an aphrodisiac to be wanted so much by a man like this.

  She sucked in a breath when he leaned across her and plucked the bar of soap off the shelf. “I’ll wash your hair first.” He positioned himself behind her. She could hear the sound of his breathing but she couldn’t see him.

  She felt nervous and excited all at once. Her earlier sleepiness had fled, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and anticipation. His fingers sifted through her hair, plucking out the few remaining pins. They plinked against the stone floor as he dropped them. His motions were firm and sure as he messaged her scalp for a moment before sliding his fingers through the tresses to loosen any tangles.

  “Lie back,” he murmured.

  Falling under his seductive spell, she slid downward in the tub until her hair was immersed in the water. When it was totally soaked, she sat up and he began to work.

  He wrapped his arms around her, dipped the soap in the water and worked a thick lather between his palms. Laying the soap on her tummy, he then proceeded to work the lather through her hair from root to tip. He worked slowly and methodically.

  Kathryn felt the stress of the day slip away.

  Closing her eyes, she was lost to his tender ministrations. “Back down,” he instructed. Without opening her eyes, she submerged totally beneath the water. She felt his hands in her hair, working the soap out. She sat back up, sputtering when she could no longer hold her breath.

  Marc handed her a cloth and she swiped her face. “Thanks.”

  “I’m going to give it a final rise.” He stood and picked up a bucket from the far side of the tub. “Tip your head back.”

  Kathryn scooted forward and did as he asked. Carefully, he poured the clean water over her scalp and hair. When he was done, he gently twisted the mass, wringing the water from it. She couldn’t believe how much better she felt simply having her hair clean.

  “Now I can bathe you.”

  She shivered but not because she was cold. Her blood pumped heavily through her veins as heat suffused every inch of her. She felt alive for the first time in her life. It was as if every cell in her body was poised, ready for what was to come.

  “Yes,” she sighed and sat back, taking care to drape the bulk of her hair over the rim of the tub so it didn’t trail into the water.

  Reaching down, he dug around the tub until he found the bar of soap and lathered his hands once again. This time, he placed them on the curve of her neck and stroked up and down the slender column. She tilted her head back, peeking out from under her lids to study him.

  His face was wreathed in concentration as he worked. With great deliberation, he soaped her shoulders and arms. Then, one hand at a time, he carefully washed the bloodstains from all her fingers.

  She decided that she could easily watch him for hours. His face was so masculine, almost hard. He had a high forehead and cheekbones and full lips. His golden-brown eyes reminded her of an eagle that she’d seen in a picture book when she was a child.

  The species was extinct on earth but once it had been one of the fiercest birds of prey on the planet. Marc was like that—fierce, ready to attack at a moments notice. But there was another side to him as well. A gentle side. The side he was showing her now.

  His hands shifted, slipping over the mounds of her breasts. A whimper of pleasure escaped her as he tenderly plucked at her nipples. The electric sensation seemed to shoot from her breasts to her pussy. Her inner muscles contracted and relaxed. She felt empty. Needy. Her hips undulated in the water, sending a wave of water to the edge of the tub.

  “More?” Marc asked as he slid his hands over her tummy.

  “Yes.” She parted her legs and arched her hips. She wanted, no needed, him to touch her. To sate the ache within her, which went all the way to the very core of her being. “Touch me.” She didn’t recognize her own voice. Gone was the sharp, crisp tone she usually used, replaced by a sultry whisper that invited and beguiled.

  Marc traced her belly button, dipping a finger inside before continuing his journey.

  He cupped her hips in his hands, his thumbs brushing her hipbones. She giggled at the unexpected touch. His fingers tickled her skin and she squirmed beneath his hands.

  “Ah,” he breathed. “You’re ticklish.”

  “I’m not,” she gasped, trying not to laugh.

  Marc’s low chuckle filled the air. “I’ll have to remember that.” Without warning, he slid between her legs, holding the slick folds of her sex open with one hand, while plunging two fingers deep inside her. The juxtaposition from laughter to carnal delight had her head spinning and her emotions shattered. She had no defenses against Marc. Nor did she want any. Not now. Maybe in the bright light of the morning, but for now, she just wanted to feel.

  Kathryn cried out, arching her hips. She felt stretched. Full. It was delicious. As in her dream, it barely took a touch and she was close to climax. Never in her life had she felt so sexually charged and sensually alive.

  “You’re so tight,” he gritted out. “So hot.” He slid his fingers to the edge of her opening.

  She shoved her hips upward, not wanting to lose contact with him. She bit her lip to keep from screaming in frustration when he fingered the folds of her sex. Reaching down, she grabbed his hand and pushed it lower.

  “Tell me what you want?”

  “You,” she gasped as his thumb stroked her swollen clit. “Your fingers inside me, fucking me.” She’d never talked like this in her life but she was desperate. She wanted this. Needed this release.

  “Whatever you want, Kathryn. If it is within my power to give it, it is yours.” One thick finger slid into her tight sheath. When he withdrew to the edge, he pushed a second one inside. The water, her arousal and the soap on his fingers allowed them to slide easily. His rhythm quickened as he drove her higher and higher.

  Energy coiled low in her belly. She was so close. Her breathing was ragged as she grasped the edge of the tub and met the inward stroke of his fingers with a thrust of her hips. She tilted her head back, her mouth parting on a low cry.

  “More,” she screamed.

  Marc brushed his thumb against her clit as he pumped his fingers. Leaning down, he nuzzled her neck before gently biting. Her fingers tingled, her nipples tightened and her entire body jerked. Kathryn cried his name as she came. Water sloshed as she pumped her hips, desperate to milk every last sensation from her climax.

  When she could take no more, she clamped her thighs together. Marc carefully withdrew his fingers and buried
his face in her neck. His breathing was as heavy as hers as they both sat there. Kathryn shivered, a combination of the remnants of her climax and the cool air. The water had chilled and she was cold now that the heat of the moment had passed.

  Marc moved around to the side of the tub. Grabbing the soap, he quickly washed her legs and feet before dragging a washcloth over her torso. Tossing the cloth aside, he leaned in and scooped her from the tub.

  Standing her on the floor, he quickly toweled her off and squeezed the excess water from her hair. He tossed the towel aside and pulled her into his arms once again, carrying her from the bathing chamber and back into the bedroom.

  Kathryn tried to look around but the room was in shadows. The cheery fire crackling in the grate, the only light. She felt exhausted, yet energized. It was an odd feeling. Almost one of anticipation.

  Marc didn’t carry her to the bed. Instead, he laid her atop a thick fur on the floor in front of the fireplace. The warmth from the fire stroked over her skin, warming her. As she watched, he shucked his boots and removed the arm and wristbands, laying them carefully on the mantle. His hands went to the laces at the front of his pants.

  Her eyes traced the long, thick bulge and she felt cream slip from her pussy. She wanted him. And this time, she wanted his thick, hard length inside her, filling her.

  He quickly loosened the laces and shoved his pants over his muscular legs and off.

  She made a low humming sound in the back of her throat. She’d never seen anything like him in her life. She longed to touch him, to taste him.

  She licked her lips and he groaned. Her gaze shot to his face and she saw lust and longing etched there. Holding out her hand, she beckoned to him. “Come here.”

  Chapter Six

  Marc gritted his teeth and braced his muscles to keep from falling on Kathryn and rutting like a bull scenting a female in season. Her skin glowed in the flickering light, the damp tresses of her hair gleamed. When it was dry, he knew her hair would rival the fire itself. He’d never seen hair quite that color. It was vibrant and alive. Just like her.