In response, I lean in and lick his lips.
Once.
Twice.
Enough to draw out a groan from him. Enough for his arm to grip my waist and draw me to his side until I melt into him.
Keeping an arm around me, he starts the boat with the other, keeping a sharp left as we head away from the city.
34
Kris
The taste of her had gone straight to my head; and for a few seconds, I'd forgotten how young, how inexperienced, she is.
Yet, she'd charged into that room where I was prisoner. She's a warrior; she's brave. My heart swells with pride. If she can do that, she can take my dominance.
The rational part of me insists it's the second time she put herself at peril with no heed for her life. She'd do so again if the opportunity arose.
It wars with the innate dominance of the protective male that I am. As much as I want her to fight by my side, I know, then, that I cannot willingly thrust her into danger.
Drawing up to the pier of the island where I live, I say, "Welcome to the Island of Caves." After tying the boat, I leap onto the platform and help her up.
She follows as we cross the little beach. At the tree line, she stops. On my right is a little hill, and cut into its side is the massive bust of a three-faced God.
The sculpture covers most of the side of the little hill. It soars above us, standing guard to the island.
"Wasn't this island lost with the tsunami of 2014?" she asks.
"It was," I reply. "The tsunami wrecked most of the sculpture, and the island lay buried under water for many years. But a freak storm in the early twenty-thirties unearthed it again. Now, at high-tide, it's an island. When the tide falls, it reveals a narrow strip of land which connects the island to the next."
"What's on the next island?"
I hesitate then reply, "The temple where Ruby first touched her sword to the altar and triggered the tsunami."
"Is that where we are headed next, to meet the other Ascendants? That's where you expect Noah to track you down?"
"So many questions." I tug her so she loses her balance and falls against me, and then I brush my lips over my hers. "You don't want to see where I live? I haven't brought anyone else here," I add. I know I’m trying to distract her.
It works.
Her look softens. "No one?"
"You're the first," I say. "Never felt the need to share what I have with anyone else."
"And now?" She tilts her head.
"Now, you're the only one I want in my own space."
I sense the exact moment she melts; for pressing those breasts against my chest, she leans up and captures my lips with hers.
By the time she pulls away, my breathing is erratic, pulse thudding. "Damn, you are a fast learner, aren't you, baby?"
"I try," she smirks.
Throwing a smug look over her shoulder, the witch struts ahead. only to halt in front of the sculpture. She looks up at the soaring face. A face with sensuous lips and long, flowing hair carved into the rock stares back.
"Shiva." I answer her unspoken question. "This statue represents his three aspects: Creator, Preserver, Destroyer."
"This place suits you," she replies.
"Oh?"
"There's an untamed wildness, a fierceness here. It feels...powerful, yet there's also a feeling of waiting. Like it's been through a lot and now it just wants to be itself."
My eyes narrow as I try to take in everything she says. The witch has once again surprised me with her astuteness.
When she shivers, I beckon her to follow. "Let's get you inside and out of your wet clothes."
Her scent follows me. Spicy and insidious, it creeps up on me, curling around me as I walk up the steps of the house I've claimed as my own.
Claim her.
The thought slams through me. And every part of me feels it, knows it to be true. This is what I want.
I pushed her away at every turn, yet she came after me.
Now she's here, in my house. My heart stutters, and my hand shakes as I push the door open. This is what I missed. With her, the space feels like home. The realization is so strong I pause and gather myself.
It doesn't stop me from watching her as she crosses the small living room to step onto the courtyard beyond.
The little bungalow faces a garden, open to the beach beyond. The sand slopes down toward the sea. The setting sun bleeds the sky red and pink, glinting off the turquoise and green waves. Palm trees frame the scene on either side. Their slender, fringed leaves rustle in the breeze.
The sheer beauty makes her eyes widen. The green in them shines as the morning light picks out the gold sparks in them. Long, fringed eyelashes brush against her brows. Her hair sweeps down, brushing her neck, down to the ribs that arrow to the swell of her breasts.
Her skin is polished a burnished brown, skin that would be soft to touch, that smells like green apples at dawn. It tastes sweeter than honey, deeper, more intense. The flavors of her still dance on my tongue, my lips.
I want to…need to taste her again.
The thought makes me desperate to feel her move under me, to gently run my fingers over the curve of her waist, sloping down toward the hollow between her legs. Desire throbs through me as I feel myself harden.
I want to…own her, possess her, show her how much she affects me.
As if hearing my thoughts, she looks over her shoulder. Her breath hitches as she takes in my expression.
Her gaze falls to my lips before continuing down to my chest.
When I hold out my hand, she takes it, no hesitation in her move. The complete trust in how she follows me is almost my undoing.
Turning, I lead her into the bedroom.
I turn to her in time to see her tongue flick out to touch her lips; it sends a pulse of want through me.
Eyes not leaving her face, I pull the sword from the scabbard, before dropping the scabbard to the ground. I'm surprised to see my hand trembling.
But I cannot, will not stop now.
When I hold up the sword, her eyes widen. Then I bring it down.
35
Tara
With a flash of steel, the sword slashes at my T-shirt and shorts. Before I can gasp, the clothes fall away, leaving me clad in only my panties. His eyes cling to the darkened flesh I am sure is visible through the cloth. My thighs clench...can he smell my arousal?
Reaching behind for the scabbard, he slides the sword into it, before letting it drop to the floor with a dull thud.
His gaze rakes over my shoulders, sliding down to my breasts. Heat ripples over my skin and my nipples harden into pinpoints of desire.
His throat muscles move and he takes a step forward; when I hold up my hand, surprising even myself. But, I know I must not give in yet. I need to hold my own, especially now, to avoid being overwhelmed.
Kicking off my shoes and sodden socks, I look up to see him watching me. He's waiting to see what I'll do next.
"Your turn," I say, voice husky. My eyes boldly rake down his chest, the line demarcating his pecs, the thick line of hair zooming down before disappearing into the waistline of his pants.
He tilts his head, nostrils flared, as if considering my request. Then he nods. Sliding down his pants, he steps out of them. Before I can adjust to the sight of hair roughened thighs and sleek muscles moving under glistening skin, the devil goes a step further. He shucks his underwear. And that's when I forget to breathe.
For hid arousal is a thing of beauty. It leaps to life under my gaze. He stands proud, head flung back. The heat from his skin, the sheer dominance of him slams into me again; and for a second, my heart beats like a wild, trapped animal.
Then he holds out a hand, and I don’t hesitate. I know my devil. He's preening under my gaze.
I take a step forward, and another. All the while I can't take my eyes of the evidence of his desire.
"Touch me." That deep voice I've come to know so well tugs at my nerve endings.
>
Reaching out, I close my hand over his arousal. The blood throbs through his engorged flesh. It's strangely exciting, and I'm filled with a strange sense of power as I realize I am giving this immortal warrior so much pleasure.
"You're killing me," he groans.
The raw need in his voice shoots another burst of lust through my veins.
Drawing me close, he slants his lips across mine and tangles his tongue with mine until I am filled with the taste of him, surrounded by his scent. It drives me a little out of my head with wanting.
And he must feel it to. For his palm covers my hand and squeezes before moving
my fingers up to lie on his flat stomach.
"My turn," he whispers before sinking to his knees. Sliding my panties down, he urges me to step out of them. Then he places his lips on me...in the dip between my legs. Raising one leg to balance on his thigh, to give him better access, his tongue dives in with no warning, and I scream.
Shudders of pleasure radiate out from my core, and my knees go weak. I have to hold onto his shoulders for support, eyes rolling back in my head with the sheer pleasure of the sensations rolling through me.
His tongue slides into me, tasting me, consuming me. His palm cups my hip, and he brings me even closer, all the while kissing the throbbing flesh, even as his other hand slides down the back of one thigh, molding me to him.
My fingers clutch his shoulder, nails digging in, as another scream is torn out of me. The sound crashes over us, in rhythm to the thunder of the distant waves.
The sound of my voice only seems to drive him over the edge. For he doesn't stop. Not until the makings of an orgasm shudder up from that secret inner core. It rises in crescendo until it sweeps through me and pushes aside all barriers. I can't stop myself from coming in a burst of heat and arousal that sparkles in the air around us.
This time when my knees give way, he rises and scoops me up in his arms. When he brushes his lips over mine, I can taste myself on his tongue. And it's intimate and hot, and a part of me is shocked at how much I revel in the pleasure of having marked him in another way.
The world tilts again as he lays me down on the bed.
There’s a cool brush of air against my sensitive nerve endings. Then the bed dips as he curls his body around mine. The heat of him is a furnace against my back, his heartbeat steady. Comforting.
"Sleep," he says.
Something in his voice, or in the way he holds me, perhaps…something makes me clutch his hand, bringing it up to my chest. I grip his fingers, holding them there. "Don't leave me," I whisper, even as my eyes flutter shut.
I love you, no matter what. Remember that. His voice brushes up against the fringe of my mind, but by then I am too far gone. Sleep pulls me under.
36
Kris
She falls asleep in my arms, and I stay where I am, watching her sleep. Her breath evens out, and I am glad she's finally resting after what she's been through the last couple weeks. Noticing a wrinkle in the middle of her forehead, I reach to smooth it out. My finger lingers to trace the smoothness of her cheek, the skin as soft as satin. Skin I'd never want to see marred. I notice again the scars on her throat, and I know then the choice has been made for me.
Her scent spools out, curling into the sheets. I'll never be able to sleep here again without imagining her here in my bed, in my home, with me.
She belongs here.
This is where she is safe. With me.
She is going to be livid when she wakes up.
Bending, I brush my lips against the curve of her shoulder.
Under me, her muscles relax. She curves her body deeper into mine, her lush behind brushing against my hardness still crying out for release. At least I could show her how much I want her, that I'd always put her needs before mine.
I wince as a pulse of desire arrows out from my groin, this one almost painful in its need to simply take her, to bury myself in her. I know, then, I must leave now, or else I'll never be able to turn my back on her.
I try to pull my hand from her grasp, only to find that even in sleep she holds on. Gently, slowly, I pull away from her. Rolling over to the other side of the bed, I’m on my feet, turning before my treacherous heart can talk me out of what I’m about to do.
I know my fiery witch by now: she'd want to come with me, be right there with me in the thick of action.
Is it any wonder I was attracted to her, that I noticed her right away? My soul knew even then, even though my conscious mind resisted it.
For when I go to that place inside of me where I'd locked away thoughts of my mate, I find…Tara, green eyes flashing, pulling at me, tugging me to come to her. She’s marked me with the touch of her lips, branded me with her scent, claimed me with her soul. Her spirit had entwined with mine, had plugged into me, rebirthing that nascent mating bond.
I want her to be here when I return.
I want to make sweet, tender love to her right here in my bed, in my home, on my beach, on my island.
I want to take her to where I spent my childhood years in the Himalayas, even to where I grew up in the city of Bombay. I’ve never wanted to share these memories with anyone else. No one except her.
No one after her.
Pushing all thoughts from my head, I pull the sheet over her.
Walking to the shelf in the far corner, I pull out a pair of cargo pants, a T-shirt, and socks. Gathering her torn clothes, I place them aside. Wincing as I think of her inevitable explosion when she awakes, I pick up my sword and place it in the scabbard then walk to the door, only to hesitate. Turning, I take a last look over my shoulder at the curve of her lips, the dark hair slashing across the pillow.
One. Last. Inhale. The scent of green apples rushes to me, and I trap it inside me, in my lungs, my belly. My every living cell is so full it's as if I’m carrying her with me.
Sliding the scabbard onto my back, I lace up my boots. As I walk to the small cove on the other side of the small island and push out the powerful boat—the only boat on the island—a voice whispers that I’m a coward. That by sneaking off like this I am simply conforming to what I am. A dominant Alpha male. One so consumed with wanting to protect his mate that he is blind to anything else.
So be it. For once I accept what I am. For she may wake up and be angry with me, but at least my mate will be safe. That is more important than anything else.
Opening my senses to the psychic pathway, I send off a single ping to my fellow Ascendants; but first I lower the barrier we'd put up to block Noah. I alert them that I’m headed to the temple.
I don't bother to hide it from Noah, making it seem like I’m in too much of a hurry to do so, that I made a mistake. I’m confident he'll pick it up, that he and his team of vampires will come straight to the temple for me and the sword.
37
Kris
When the small boat pulls up at Ubud Island, I jump onto the little pier. After tying the craft to the jetty, I stride toward the beach.
The sand bleached white by the sun stretches toward a little hill. As I walk, I’m aware of the significance of this place.
This is the island with the temple where Ruby touched her sword to the altar and set off the tsunami that gave rise to the new world.
Just thinking of it sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine. The sense of history weighs down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. This is a space that has seen endings...and beginnings.
I keep my eyes focused ahead. I don't look back, not even when the hair on the nape of my neck prickles.
I’m being watched.
Hefting the scabbard with the sword onto my back, I keep going. I don't stop until I reach the little plateau at the top of the hill.
There in front of me are the cages. At least a dozen of them spread out like massive honey combs, the steel of their bars reflecting the morning light.
If Alex's Bar is where shifters, vampires, and humans drink together, this is where they come to fight, to pit t
heir skills off each other and draw blood. In the background, furious betting takes place with money and favors exchanging hands. This right here is the underbelly of the city.
This is where Leana fought off Rohan. Not too long ago, she combined her power with Mikhail's right here, harnessing the power of the blood red moon, using Ruby's sword to rid the city of Daniel, the vampire leader.
My fingers brush the scabbard on my back. Now the sword belongs to me.
Mayor Ariana hasn't shut down the cages, even though she thought her son, Rohan, lost his life after the fight between him and Leana. It must have caused her pain, yet she preferred to let it be.
She's wise. Ariana knows there needs to be a space for species to meet and fight it out. Sometimes the only way to settle differences is with hand-to-hand combat. It's also a way to release any simmering tensions between the species.
I’m about to take another step forward when something stops me and makes me turn.
Not far from me are amber eyes set in a shaggy face. There’s something almost familiar about the look in those eyes.
Chest rising-falling as it takes a breath, it’s the biggest wolf I’ve ever seen, almost as tall as me. Its muscles are sleek, undulating under its fur.
It stares, unblinking, and I can't look away.
The feeling of domination that flows from it hits me square on my chest, sucking the breath out of me.
I dig my feet into the ground, meeting its stare.
The wolf is Alpha of the pack, but it needs to know when it's met its match.
It's joined by another, a smaller wolf almost black in color. It takes its stance to the left, a little behind the first one.
Another joins it to its right.
And another.
Another.
Until the space behind the gray is covered with wolves.
Claimed: Paranormal Romance (Immortals, Vampires and Shifters) (Many Lives Book 4) Page 13
