Fallon [Darklands]

by Autumn Dawn

  She reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss. There was nothing chaste about it. He took over and seemed to get serious enjoyment from it, then reluctantly raised his head. “Mmm. Hold that thought, honey. I promise we'll get back to it on the boat. Ready?"

  The boat turned out to be a thirty-five foot sailboat with blue and gold sails. Rain gaped when she saw it. “Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?"

  He laughed and handed her aboard the gleaming white vessel. “It's called sailing when you're in a boat. Do you like it?"

  "It's pretty. What are we fishing for today? Tell me it resembles fish."

  He dropped a fast kiss on her lips. “It resembles fish. Ready?"

  The waters were calm and they dropped anchor in the bay, within distant sight of the Citadel. Fallon baited his hook and tossed it over the side, fixing his pole in the special holder attached to the rail. “Now then, here comes my favorite part of fishing.” He leaned over and kissed her.

  Her hand loosened on the rod. He'd done something to her with his offer of a lab of her own. It wasn't just the generosity, it was the thoughtfulness of the gesture. He was so easy with his affection, so open handed. If she did ever marry him—

  She pulled away, startled by her thoughts. Breathing raggedly, she looked back at her pole.

  He brushed a kiss on her temple, then worked over to her ear. “So pretty,” he murmured. “You make me burn from the inside out."

  "I think—"

  He placed one long finger against her lips. “If you're about to make a comment about me and another woman, I promise you'll unleash that hidden side you keep wondering about."

  She shut her mouth.

  "Better. Let's try this again.” This kiss was longer, more satisfying. Hot and restless.

  "I got a bite!” She grabbed for the pole. It had almost been jerked out of her hands.

  "Throw it back,” he suggested.

  "Are you nuts? Quick, get the net!"

  He sighed, but helped her haul forty-five pounds of thrashing, slippery fish on board.

  "Call it a day?” he asked hopefully after the fish had been stored in the live well.

  "No way! I'm on a role now."

  Unfortunately for him, she was. He let her haul in three more monster fish before declaring she'd caught her legal limit.

  She was beginning to think he didn't have much use for fishing.

  She smiled at the wind in her face as he steered them back. “We'll have to do this again soon."

  Fallon grunted.

  "You know what we should do? We should build a fire on the beach and cook the fish over the coals. What leaves do you have that are edible?"

  "We could let my cook do it, too. He does a great grilled fish."

  She frowned. “I'll compromise. We'll set up a grill in my garden and eat it out there. I'm good at barbeque. I know you have sweet potatoes here—we'll cook a couple of those, too. You can have your cook do a side dish and dessert."

  He smirked. “I had no idea you were so domestic."

  "Well, I am letting you contribute something, even if you have to pay someone else to cook it. After all, I did catch all the fish."

  "I provided the boat."

  "Doesn't count."

  "How do you figure?"

  "I'll think of a reason,” she promised.

  He laughed.

  * * * *

  They set up the picnic in her garden. The wok-like grill on the tripod slowly baked their dinner as they lounged on the blanket by the light of the triple moons. Rain considered them as she sipped her dream flower wine. “Can you ever see the stars? There's all this light."

  "Sometimes. They have different cycles, but we actually have a few days each month with only one moon."

  "Wow. Who named this place the Darklands, then?"

  "Someone with a taste for drama. Did you know the elders arrived early? Their party is tomorrow afternoon."

  She was silent. While she didn't want to go, it was the best way to get answers.

  "Even if you don't want to celebrate for their sake, you should go for your own. There will be other women there, and it would be good for you to get out of your room once in a while and make friends."

  "I don't socialize well."

  "Practice helps."

  "You haven't seen me discuss the wonders of computer hacking or the thrill of magnetics with a room full of bored women before. They don't care about science and I don't care about waxing. You see the problem."

  His teeth flashed in a grin. “Discuss men. That's always common ground."

  "Not when I agree with the man half the time, and say so. Don't look so surprised. I loved my dad. There are good men out there. You said he wasn't a ‘warrior', but I thought he was something much better. He was a good father."

  Fallon grew serious. “I did not mean to disrespect him. I regret I never had a chance to meet him. He must have been remarkable—after all, he raised you."

  A moody sigh was her answer to that. When he looked as if he'd pursue the subject, she got up to check on dinner. “It's done. Get it while it's hot.” Perfectly cooked, moist and flaky, the fish went well with the lemon rice pudding and crisp vegetable salad Fallon—or rather his cook—had contributed. Finished, she lay back on the blanket with a sigh of contentment.

  A tactical error.

  Fallon's head appeared in less then a minute, blocking out the moons. “Hello."

  She turned her head aside to avoid his kiss. It landed on her cheek instead. “Fallon, I'm full."

  "Okay. No pressure on your stomach, I promise.” He moved her hand up to nibble her fingers.

  "I don't think ... hey...” He'd popped her pinky into his mouth and was sucking on it. Maybe she'd had too much wine, or was too relaxed, but she didn't feel motivated to put up a serious protest.

  He slowly released her finger, then started on the next. By the time he was done, she was in a very receptive frame of mind.

  "I want to pamper you tonight,” he said, reaching for a little box she hadn't noticed before. He opened the top, then set it so she couldn't see inside. When she sat up to look, he kissed her, distracting her with slow, persuasive heat. While she was still dazed, he lifted her tunic off, baring her to the waist. Except for her necklace, of course, but that wasn't hiding anything.

  Automatically, her hands rose to hide her breasts.

  "No, no. That's not how this game is played. Lie back.” He eased her down to the blanket and put her hands by her side, holding them there for a moment. “Keep them there.” His gaze was appraising, frankly appreciative, and she had to close her eyes in embarrassment. Why was she letting him do this?

  "Now, then.” Her eyes popped open as he moved closer, a small brush in his hand.

  "Close your eyes again. This is eye shadow."

  "You're doing my makeup?” she asked in puzzlement. “Why do I have to be naked for that?"

  "Just close them,” he said patiently.

  He might be calm, but she was ready to jump with sizzling awareness. “Y-you know, I haven't done this before. How ‘bout you give me back my shirt?"

  "The sexual tension is part of the pleasure,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with a soft brush.

  "How can you even see what you're doing in the moonlight?"

  "I can see. Make a kiss with your lips. Mm. I do love deep red lipstick on you. Such full, sweet lips.” He put away the lipstick and got out a nail file. “Give me your hand."

  She was beginning to understand this was going to be a slow torture session. Instinct made her keep her newly polished fingers flat on the ground, even though she desperately wanted to curl them, or use them to shield her breasts. Her nipples were stiff with tension, desperately hoping for his attention. It was all she could do to keep her hips still.

  He glanced at them and smiled. “Ready for a little nipple rouge? It will stain them a deep red to match your lips for several days. Hold still—we don't want to stain your pretty white skin.” Over her
uncertain murmurings, he painted her nipples, taking his time.

  By the time he got to the second one, she liked the way he thought.

  "Glitter cream,” he said, rubbing a new form of torment between his palms. “We need to spread this all over.” He started at her neck, thoroughly massaged her breasts and rubbed her belly. By the time he removed her pants, she was ready for them to go. When he filled his hands with her butt and lifted and kneaded it, she felt sure she knew what was coming, and she was ready for that, too.

  Instead, he massaged his way down her legs, taking his time with her feet and toes. Then he got out the polish again.

  "You've got to be kidding,” she muttered, leaning back and closing her eyes. The man would kill her.

  A perfectionist, he took his time, then deliberately closed the bottle and put it away.

  Here it comes, she thought.

  Instead, he took what she thought was a necklace out of the box. “This is a virgin's belt,” he said, showing it to her. It had smooth gold links and a string of dangling pearls hanging from it. The first few pearls were medium sized, but there was a large one hanging at the end. “Plant your feet and lift your hips for me."

  She obeyed, shuddering with the feel of the night air on her hot, wet center. He fastened the links around her waist. She was so damp she was dripping, and had been for some time. That had never happened to her before. None of this had ever happened.

  While her legs were spread and open, he dangled the pearls between her legs, then popped the big one inside her.

  She collapsed on her back in shock and reached for it.

  "Leave it!” he ordered her, and she'd never heard that tone from him before. Stunned, she stared at him. “But—"

  "Leave it,” he said more calmly. “It's getting you ready for me. Close your legs and squeeze. Feel what it does to you? Go ahead and squirm. Feel how the strands tighten against your peak? Feel how they rub? It's pressing against the special spot inside you; it's going to make you climax at any minute."

  The chain anchored the end of the beads, keeping the line barely taunt as they slid wetly between her legs. Knowing he was watching, knowing he could see ... as if to prove his words, she came right then, lifting off the blanket.

  He smiled savagely and stripped off his clothes. “Leave it!” He ordered her again when she tried to stop the special torture. He took her hands in his and flattened her body to the ground, closing her legs together with his own. “Do you want me yet?” he snarled in her ear.

  This was the side of him she hadn't seen before, the one she'd feared ... and wanted. He wasn't playing games now, wasn't blowing smoke.

  She knew what it would mean for him to take her virginity. Her father had explained that once Haunt couples joined flesh, it was forever. Fallon really was going to take her to wife ... and he had the means to make her desire him. No court would annul a marriage consummated in mutual passion.

  The pearl between her legs pressed again on that special spot, making her lift off the blanket with a hot scream.

  Fallon muttered something jealous sounding and pulled it out.

  She whimpered at its loss.

  "I have something better,” he growled, and spread her legs. Suddenly there was a fullness, a sweet hardness.

  She decided she liked it. “Ohhh. More.” Her bright red nails flexed on his back.

  She felt him smile against her neck. “Anything for the lady."

  It burned, it hurt ... but there was just enough pleasure to make her want his invasion. He was big, and hard, and at the moment, everything she wanted in the world.

  So she let him ride her, let him fill the tight hollow between her legs as he tortured her mouth with kisses. He was sweetly savage, controlled yet dominate until the end, when the control slipped completely away and he rode her fiercely, throwing his head back as he roared his own climax.

  Well earned, if anyone wanted to know.

  * * * *

  She lay in bed later that night, tucked in the hollow of Fallon's arm. He'd carried her limp body inside and bathed her, then taken her again in the tub after crushing the pearl. It was symbolic, he said. Nobody was ever going to enter her body again but him.

  She very nearly let him have her a third time, just for that.

  Promising to get to it after her body had a chance to heal, he'd kissed her and carried her to the bed. Now she lay there, wondering how she'd ever gotten to this place.

  Dangerous. She'd always known the man was dangerous. Exhausted, she slid into sleep. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

  * * * *

  Rain awoke to wine and a bed strewn with flower petals. Brushing a petal from her cheek, she surveyed the bed strewn with pink and white botanical confetti with sleepy surprise. “Are we having a party?"

  Fallon sat on the edge of the bed, clad only in his black pants. “I felt a celebration was in order.” When she blushed, he added mischievously, “Are you very sore?"

  Avoiding his eyes as her face got hotter, she brushed the petals from her lap. “If you're looking for an encore, then yes, I'm pretty sore."

  He smiled. “Good thing I filled the tub, then. I also put some healing herbs in it."

  Risking a glance, she asked dryly, “In a hurry, are you?"

  "With you, always.” He held a white silk robe out to her and helped her into it. “Unfortunately, we do have a party to attend later, and I have to introduce you to my mother.” He said it offhand, like an afterthought.

  Her eyes snapped to his. “Your mother? I didn't even know you had one!"

  They'd stopped at the tub, and he whisked off her robe with quick efficiency. “Didn't want to jinx the deal."

  Loathe to stand around naked in front of him, she slid into the water. “Yeah, but you could have dropped a clue! How am I supposed to face the woman, knowing that I just found out about her hours before I met her?” Knowing what she'd just spent the night doing with the woman's son. Yikes!

  "I wouldn't worry about it. She's been nagging me for years to marry—she'll be delighted about you. Oh, she'll scold me, but she'll take to you like a duck to water.” He sat on the edge of the tub and trailed his fingers in the water. “She'll probably start in about grandchildren right away."

  Rain opened her mouth, then closed it, thinking before she spoke. “We talked about that."

  "We did, and I still feel the same. I'm an expert at circumventing her schemes, so just follow my lead. Direct opposition just strengthens her, I warn you."

  "Great. A controlling mother-in-law,” Rain muttered, sinking further into the water. Whatever he'd put in the bath was invigorating, just the thing for what was sounding like a tough day.

  "It's not that bad. Like I said, she'll love you. I'll the one who will suffer if you two ever join forces against me. I don't get any sleep as it is.” He sent a smug look her way, and his eyes slid to the clear water.

  She sank up to her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. “Go away. Make yourself useful and order some breakfast or something."

  He laughed and dropped a kiss on her hair. “See? It's started already."

  * * * *

  She wasn't laughing an hour later as Fallon swept into his mother's apartment, one arm firmly anchored around Rain as if to prevent her from running. She might have, too, but he shut the door too quickly.

  Apparently his mother, Lady Portae, had been forewarned. She hurried up to Rain with a cry of delight, enfolding Rain so deeply in her plump arms that Rain felt she was drowning in her mother-in-law's perfumed bosom. “My dear girl!” Mercifully, Portae released her and held her back at arm's length, examining her with hungry eyes. “So you're the clever girl that finally snared my Fallon.” Her eyes teared up, and she quickly applied a handkerchief. “Come in and tell me all about it.” Her brilliant purple robe swished against Rain's side as she linked arms and led Rain to a place of honor on a flowered sofa.

  As Fallon joined her on the couch, Lady Portae sank down on the one opposite. A te
a set and refreshments were waiting on the table between them. Apparently Fallon's mother was prepared for a lengthy visit. “Pour us some tea, Fallon. We have so much to talk about."

  Most of the talking consisted of Portae—she'd insisted on Rain calling her that, since she couldn't bring herself to call Portae ‘mother'—grilling them for the story of how they met, fell in love, and how soon they intended to produce grandchildren.

  With frequent glances at Fallon, Rain edited and hedged, leaving out the parts that weren't fit for company. Eyes sparkling, Fallon supplied the bits where she'd tried to run away, the rat. It was hard to resent him, though. He'd dressed to impress today, and his loose trousers and gold trimmed tunic, cut in the Chinese style, made the gold of his queued hair all the more striking. While she wasn't one to drool in public, she caught herself dwelling on his beautiful green eyes.

  Portae smiled as she sipped her tea. “I'm so grateful you changed her mind, Fallon. I can see you're looking impatient, though, so I'll stop interrupting your honeymoon. I can't wait to speak to my friends! Lady Vectrex will be so jealous! She's been trying to get her son married off forever."

  Fallon just smiled and kissed his mother's cheek. “Don't forget the party this afternoon."

  "As if I could,” Portae said fondly. “It isn't everyday my son is honored for serving his country. I'm looking forward to it."

  Rain waited until the door had closed behind them before saying, “You didn't mention that you were being honored."

  He shrugged. “It's nothing. How about a light lunch before we get ready? There'll be food there, but I'm starved."

  "How can you be hungry? You just got done eating an entire plate of cookies at your mother's!"

  "You call that food? I need something with some meat."

  They passed too close to a pair of Haunt guards, making Rain sneeze.

  "You haven't been taking your medicine, have you?"

  She frowned in annoyance, ignoring the guilt his frown triggered. “I'll take some when we get to my room."

  "Which is now my suite,” Fallon informed her. “I had Malian transfer your clothes over there this morning. We'll move your tools and such once your workroom is finished."