Deep Kiss of Winter

by Kresley Cole

  “He’s not exaggerating. Even I wouldn’t bed her, and believe me,” Devyn said, “I’ve slept with some real bad-asses.”

  “Hey, man,” Dallas interrupted with a laugh. “She’s like my sister. No talk of bedding her.”

  Aleaha suddenly felt like she was back in the forest, the night the Rakans had come. For the most part, Dallas and Devyn hadn’t taken that seriously either, overflowing with jokes. “Well, Mia will lose even more men if she refuses this golden opportunity. And, yes, pun intended. Breean can help us defeat the Schön queen. You saw how quickly he can move. You saw how his men can step into bodies and force them to do what they want.” She turned back to the box. Ugh. Red was now her least favorite color. “But what you probably didn’t notice was the scent these men produce. It . . . lures women. Fogs their minds. What if a Rakan could lure the queen into a trap? AIR could be there to pounce, and her blood would never have to be spilled.”

  Devyn regarded her intently; she could feel his amber gaze probing the depths of her soul. “Was this Breean’s idea? You coming here and talking to us?”

  “No. It’s mine,” she said, hoping Breean would agree to such a plan. Not that she wanted him to be the one doing the luring. One of his warriors could do it. That Talon guy, maybe. He was kind of cute in a boy scout slash psycho killer way.

  “I don’t know, Mace. That would involve trusting the Rakans, and well—”

  “AIR trusts no one,” she finished for him. Exasperated, she shook her head. “One of his men killed the agents, and that was against Breean’s rules. Breean punished him. You remember the guy we heard him castigating that night in the cell, right?” She paused, bit her lip. “I don’t want him hurt. He’s not predatory. Tell the commander to leave him alone, okay? Please. All Breean wants is a peaceful life for his men, and he is willing to aid AIR to find that peace.”

  “Tell the commander yourself,” Dallas said.

  “I . . . can’t.” Right then and there, Aleaha realized she loved Breean. She hadn’t just given him pieces of her heart; she’d given him the whole thing. And temporary insanity couldn’t be blamed this time. She wasn’t lost in a passion-haze. She did. She loved him. He was gentle and kind, attentive and hard, passionate and determined. He was wild and savage and tender and protective. He was . . . everything.

  She didn’t want to live Macy’s life anymore. She wanted to live her own. Now, always. She would free these agents as planned, but she wouldn’t leave and come back. She’d simply stay here and do whatever it took to win Breean’s forgiveness. And his heart. She would follow him to the ends of the Earth, whether he wanted her or not.

  They would be together.

  “I’m not going with you,” she said. “And, damn it, I can’t find a thread. Should I just start jerking wires out?”

  Dallas sputtered, and her gaze lifted. He’d disappeared into his cell.

  Devyn, she noticed, was frowning at her. “Little girl, that’s not a decision you get to make.”

  What? Jerking the wires? “What does that mean?” As she spoke, something brushed her shoulder, and a honey-scented breeze quickly followed. Her blood heated—then chilled. No. Not possible. Not freaking possible.

  Heart once again slamming against her ribs, she backed away from the cell.

  “What are you doing?” Devyn demanded.

  “He’s here.”

  “The leader?” His gaze slid the length of the hallway. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “He’s—” Her entire mind went black as Breean’s essence slipped into her body, utterly consuming her.

  TEN

  HOW COULD SHE HAVE DONE THAT TO HIM? Breean wondered. How could she have cut his throat like that? Not a paltry wound, either, but a death wound. Delivered mere hours after he’d sated her.

  Fury seethed through him. When he’d realized his body was indeed healing as swiftly as hers had the times he’d sliced into her thigh, he’d decided to spirit-walk, even though he’d left his physical being without a personal guard, something he hated to do. Anyone could stroll into his room right now and cut him—as Aleaha had done— and he would not be able to defend himself. But he had to stop her from escaping, and had been too weak to go after her physically.

  So he’d allowed his spirit to rise from his body, detaching one from the other, and had stalked the home, unseen, unsensed, searching for her. Of course, he’d found her with the prisoners.

  He shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d chosen to injure him and save them. They were her friends, her coworkers, and he probably would have done the same. To anyone but her. He’d thought . . . what? That she’d come to like him? That she wanted a future with him? Damn this!

  “Macy,” the agent in front of her said. Glitter. He was reaching through the bars, trying to grasp her arm and hold her in place.

  In control of her movements, Breean made her step farther away. Unlike when he’d entered her for the bath, she was not aware of him or her surroundings. That time, he’d wanted her responsive. This time, he wanted only her obedience, so he’d overtaken her completely. Her actions were his. Her thoughts were his. Even her voice was his.

  “Macy?” Glitter said again.

  “Do not worry for her. I will not hurt her,” Breean said. A lie? He wasn’t sure. Never had he been in such a murderous mood.

  Without another word, he walked her up the stairs and back to his bedroom. The agents called for Macy’s return, not understanding what was happening, but he paid them no heed.

  She’d chosen the perfect time to escape, for many of his warriors were once again in the city. No one would have known of her—or the agents—release until morning. By then, the agents would have been safely ensconced in AIR headquarters, he was sure, and the hunt for him and his people would have begun.

  What made it worse was that she’d used her ability against him, an ability she had feared but one he had accepted. Not once had he condemned her for what she could do. Yet she’d used it against him, becoming him. The remaining warriors would have let her do whatever she wanted, no questions asked.

  Was she at all sorry? She’d claimed to be but . . . He released his hold on her thoughts and her voice filled their head. What are you doing? Breean, stop this! Let me explain.

  No, not sorry for her actions. Only sorry she’d been caught.

  Still inside her, he gathered four ties and anchored them to the bedposts. His physical self was still lying on the mattress, a slight rise and fall of his chest the only sign that he lived. Amber blood was dried to his throat, but the wound was weaving itself together and had healed considerably. He thought perhaps he would be completely normal in a few hours.

  That didn’t lessen his rage.

  He had Aleaha strip before encasing her own ankles in the ties, spreading her naked thighs and anchoring them in place before making her lie on her stomach beside him.

  Breean, let’s talk about this. I wasn’t going to leave. I had decided—

  “Silence.” He had her bind one of her wrists to a post, then had to use her teeth to secure the other.

  Finally, she was tethered to the bed.

  Breean.

  He ignored her, tendrils of satisfaction blending with the heat of his anger.

  Breean, please. I—I love you.

  She—no! How dare she say that now. Now, when he couldn’t be sure whether she meant it or merely wanted to soothe him. Love. It was what he’d come to want from her. To go to bed with her every night and awaken with her snuggled in his arms every morning. To talk with her, learn all that he could about her, to simply enjoy all that she was. But really. How could she love him after what she’d done?

  Don’t soften, he told himself. You gave her more than you’ve ever given another and she tried to kill you.

  Well, she did heal you.

  Silence. He didn’t want to converse with himself either.

  Sleep, he commanded Aleaha’s mind, and she did, fading to quiet, to black.

  Grim, Breean
pushed his spirit from her, rising like a wave in the ocean, once against detaching from a solid form, before falling back into his own. Conscious mind and body connected, weaving back together like the wound in his neck until he once again had control over his own self.

  Then, he waited.

  As Aleaha drifted slowly into awareness, she realized four things at once. One, her face was smashed into a white silk pillow. Two, she couldn’t move her arms or her legs, and cool air was stroking the wet heat of her core. Three and four, the most significant, she was naked and Breean was straddled over her hips, his knees at her sides.

  How had she gotten here? She recalled being in the dungeon, trying to disable the ID box, then nothing. No, wait. That wasn’t true. Breean had taken control of her and forced her to walk to his bedroom. He’d forced her to tie herself up.

  The ties . . . that’s why she couldn’t move. Her stomach rolled and twisted, dread filling her veins. She tried to raise her head, tried to turn and face him, but each action was limited and gained her nothing. “Breean, let me explain. Let me—”

  “Silence.” There was no emotion in his tone.

  “I did what I had to do. I didn’t want to hurt you. I swear I didn’t. Let me go and we’ll—”

  “I said, silence!” This time, his voice boomed through the room, echoing menacingly from the walls.

  He was angry and hurt, and he had every right to be. But she didn’t hold her tongue. “Let the agents go, and I’ll run with you. Anywhere you want to go.”

  “I’m not running, Aleaha. This is my home. One home of mine was already destroyed. I will not allow the same to happen to this one.”

  “But—”

  He moved so quickly she had no time even to blink before he was leaning down, in her face. “Not another word from you. What you did to me—” He banged a fist into the mattress beside her head.

  She gulped. She didn’t like this side of him, not when she knew how tender he could be. But she was aroused by his nearness. She couldn’t deny it. “Breean,” she said, then pressed her lips together.

  His chest meshed into her back, hot, always a brand. “You tried to kill me, Aleaha. You have no defense.”

  “God, you’re so unforgiving! I made sure you survived, didn’t I? And hello, you would have done the same thing in my situation, and you know it.” Struggling, she arched her back so that her ass was in the air. His cock glided between the two mounds, a stroke as sure as the ones from his hand. “Free me.”

  As furious as he was with her, he was still hard. “You don’t get to make demands. I do. Do that again.”

  She stilled, panting. She’d liked it, yes. But . . . “No. I want it to be like before.” When his every touch had been like a prayer.

  “Too late.” He ran his finger over the path his swollen cock had just taken, and she sucked in a breath. “I like you like this, helpless to anything but the passion. Mine to do with as I please.”

  “You won’t hurt me.” The words trembled from her.

  “So sure of that, are you?” Breean asked, and, damn, she was right.

  “Physically, yes, but I know you could tear me apart emotionally,” she whispered, and that nearly broke his already shredded heart.

  He moved his hands over her spine, riding the ridges. “Such soft skin. Perfect and pale.” Even after what she’d done, he still desired her more than he’d ever desired another. It was shameful.

  “Hate me if you want, but look at what you’ve done to free your people from disease. How can you blame me for trying to save my own?”

  Don’t soften. Don’t you dare soften. “I would not have tried to kill you to do it. That is the difference.”

  “How many ways do I have to say it? If I’d wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have given you my blood,” she gritted out.

  “Blood that was forbidden for me to accept. Your actions could have damned us all.”

  “You’ve dealt with my blood before.”

  “That was different. That was to save you.” His gaze slid over her curves, the elegant slope of her shoulders, the dip of her back, the flare of her hips. His mouth watered.

  “No, it wasn’t different. You’re just being stubborn.”

  Flicking her hair out of the way, he bent and licked the base of her neck. She gasped, shivered. His hands tunneled their way to the mattress directly under her. He let one dabble with a ripe little nipple and the other drift down. He should hurt her in some way, but he couldn’t seem to make himself do it. As she’d said, she trusted him with her physical well-being.

  He strummed her hot center once, twice, never ceasing his play with her nipple. All the while she gasped. But when she began writhing for more, he severed contact, and her gasps became moans.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not done.” He licked and nipped his way down her back before gripping her ass and giving it the same attention he’d given her breasts. Soon she was arching into his touch, again seeking more. Seeking something deeper.

  Again, he severed the contact. “Are you wet for me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, not even trying to pretend disinterest.

  “Going to change bodies?”

  “N-no. I’ve got that under control.”

  He knew that. The more they’d made love, the more control she’d gained, until she’d stopped changing unintentionally altogether. “Lift your hips, and I’ll kiss you right”—he sank a finger inside her wet sheath—”there.” But he wouldn’t let her come. Would he? This had started as revenge. To get her worked up so that he could walk away as she had done, proving to them both that he could. That she meant nothing to him. The more he touched her, however, the more he needed her.

  Moaning, she did as commanded.

  He didn’t move. Not yet, not yet. “Ask me nicely.” Want me the way I want you.

  “Breean,” she groaned, waving that perfect little ass in front of his face. “Kiss.”

  “Ask.”

  A pause, a suspended heartbeat. “Will you please kiss me? Please.”

  He’d expected her to protest. Then he could have walked away as planned, leaving her like this. That she hadn’t . . . With such a sweet surrender ringing in his ears, he licked his way right into the heart of her, savoring her decadent flavor. Two of his fingers joined the play, sliding in and out of her, just as his cock yearned to do.

  “Stop. I need to touch you, too,” she breathed. “Let me suck you.”

  His blood heated another degree. Already she was close to coming, her sex swelling under his tongue. He had to stop. He lifted his head, delighting in her aroused flesh. She groaned in frustration and began pumping against the sheets, trying to find release without him.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” He crawled up and settled beside her head. He didn’t have to say a word. She turned and fitted her mouth over his straining erection. “Don’t you dare bite me.”

  “Only want you to feel good.”

  He gripped the back of her neck, fisting her hair. Just in case. Up and down she glided, her hot, wet tongue nearly undoing him. Those silky strands of hair pulled, and, fearing he was hurting her, he released them, reaching up, gripping the headboard and surging as deep into her throat as he could go. She took him, took all of him, and was still greedy for more, her tongue circling the head of his penis with every upward thrust.

  She worked him mercilessly. Within minutes, his muscles were so strained and bunched, so desperate for release that he was transported to a torturous heaven-hell. Too much pleasure, yet not enough. And when he could take it no more, she sucked as hard as she could and he exploded into her mouth, hot seed shuddering from him.

  How long passed before he fell back to Earth, he didn’t know. Aleaha was still on the bed, still tied, still licking at him. Her hips were moving swiftly against the sheets, seeking the same release he’d just experienced.

  Now was the time to walk away, leaving her in pain, needy. But he found that he couldn’t do it.

  “Breean,” she practically
sobbed.

  He moved behind her again. Instantly she raised herself in the air.

  “Take me,” she said. “Please. I’ll beg if you want.”

  “No begging,” he said, the words choked. He didn’t want her humbled, he realized. He just wanted her to crave him more than she craved air to breathe. He wanted to brand himself on her every cell, make her live only for him. See nothing but him, the agents forgotten the way he sometimes shamefully forgot his own people.

  “Tell me. I’ll do anything you want. Just please, love me.”

  Love her. He feared that he would, now and always. He sank two fingers into her, and she screamed. Not with release, he knew, but with the sheer relief of having something buried inside her heat.

  “Like that,” she panted. “More. More.”

  “Are you ever going to leave me again?” The question slipped from him before he could stop them.

  “No. No!”

  He skimmed his thumb over her slickness. Again, she screamed, and the sound of her desire brought him back to full life, his penis filling and swelling, hardening. “Spread your knees as far as they’ll go.”

  The ties offered enough slack to allow her to bend her knees and widen them several more inches. She was completely helpless like that, completely at his mercy. He plundered inside without preamble. But then, she was so ready she didn’t need more preparation. She arched her hips to meet him, coming the moment he was in to the hilt. She spasmed and spasmed and spasmed, her climax going on forever.

  He pounded in and out of her, lost in the pleasure. She was as hot and tight as he remembered, a perfect fit, he thought as he leaned down to kiss her. She turned her head, eager for it, as lost as he was, and their tongues clashed. Kittenish purrs sprang from her throat, her orgasm still rocking her. Their teeth banged, and he tasted the sweetness of her flavor. Like rain and magic, slightly different than usual, but then, her taste and scent were always changing, becoming more central to her.

  “Mine,” he said, repeating the word he’d uttered the first time he’d seen her. Last time, it had been a mark, a warning for all others to stay away from her. This time he meant it as a promise. He hated himself for it, but there it was. He loved her, had to have her in his life.