Rook took up most of the confined space with his broad shoulders. Cate took advantage of the moment alone and leaned into him, enjoying the solid feel of him pressed against her. His gaze locked down on hers, and his jaw flexed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he said, his voice low and strained.
“Some of the worst ideas are the most fun,” she replied as she stood on her toes so she could reach his mouth.
§
In the enclosed space of the riser, the subtle blend of cinnamon and vanilla that drifted off her skin infused the air. It was impossible for him to ignore, but once she pressed up against him, his whole world narrowed to only Cate.
As he slipped his hand beneath the edge of her heavy coat, her soft rosy lips parted slightly. The silk of her shirt was smooth and hot against his hand, a poor imitation of what her skin would feel like beneath his touch. Rook leaned in, closing the gap between them and capturing her willing mouth in a searing kiss that burned away all rational thought.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing the soft swells of her warm breasts against his chest. Without her undergarments, they were separated from his touch only by the thin fabric barrier. Rook growled. He wanted to rip the shirt off of her, unable to deny the rush of mindless need she brought out in him. He would do anything, be anything to her, but as a member of the Makcay, she was a caste above him. The choice to take him as a mate was hers and hers alone.
Her lips clung to his, their breath mingling. She tasted of gilly fruit, sweet and hot. It was easy to ignore the chiming bells that said they’d reached his apartments—what he couldn’t ignore was the driving beat in his blood urging him to take what she so willingly offered.
She pulled back, settling onto her feet. “The door’s open,” she said, her voice husky and her breathing as erratic as his own.
Rook didn’t respond. He damn well couldn’t. In one fluid movement he scooped her up into his arms, the wound in his arm throbbing, the tails of her coat slapping against him as he marched toward the golden doors of his apartment.
Once they reached his room, there would be Vaquin fae to attend them in their bathing and dressing, but he’d already decided to dismiss them from their duty tonight. There was no telling how Cate would react to having servants bathe her, and while it was a chore considered too lowly for a prince of the realm, he dearly would prefer doing it himself. The shimmer in his blood increased at the thought of her supple skin wet and slippery beneath his hands. His verge flexed in response, growing even harder.
His hands full of Cate, and unwilling to wait upon his servants, he kicked open the doors. There were a few shrieks of surprise from the Vaquin as he strode in. He glanced at the bathing suite off his main bedroom and saw steam swirling in eddies above the surface of the water. Good—his bath was ready. Fresh clothing was spread out upon the massive bed and a cart of sliver-domed food trays waited near his dresser.
“You’ve done well. Now get out!” he ordered. No one even tried to argue. The Vaquin scurried to obey, closing the door behind them with a click.
“That was more polite than a thank you?” Cate said cryptically.
“It is when I would have forcibly thrown them out if they hadn’t obeyed. I didn’t want them bathing or dressing you. That’s for me to do this night.”
Cate’s eyes widened slightly, then just as quickly changed as her lashes lowered. “You’re going to bathe and dress me?”
“That was the plan.”
Her mouth twitched. “I like it.”
As much as he loathed letting go of her, Rook set her down.
“So am I going to undress myself or are you?”
“Oh, that’s completely my responsibility, my lady.”
He reached for the lapels of her jacket and she stopped him with a small hand firm upon his chest. “Only if I get to do the same. Fair is fair.”
Rook grinned. “Anything else my lady wishes?”
Cate stepped up against him, rising onto her toes. “A lot more of this,” she said as she crushed her mouth to his. A shot of liquid fire burned through his veins. His hands couldn’t move fast enough to peel the clothing from her, and his fingers lost all dexterity when it came to the little buttons holding the waist of her riding pants in place.
As their tongues slid hot and slick against each other, her hands were just as busy stripping the clothing from him, pausing only to glide across his stomach, his hip, over the inside of his bare thigh to cup the length of him in her hand.
Rook broke their kiss and let out a hiss of breath, fighting for control. He took the opportunity to pull the shirt over her head, then wrapped his arms around her gloriously naked, lithe body, and deeply kissed her as he carried her to the bathing pool. Together they sunk down into the hot water.
Cate broke apart and let out a contented sigh. “Oh, this feels good.” The low groaning deep in the back of her throat resonated through him, reminded him of the purr of a catamount.
Rook smiled, pleased. He released his hold on her to grab the lather bar, then quickly rubbed it between his hands, letting the bubbly suds form. While he knew they’d both be cleaner if he used a cloth, he didn’t want anything more between him and Cate, and opted for using his bare hands.
She dunked beneath the water, coming up with a splash. The water clung in crystalline drops on her long lashes and turned her hair into dark, glossy spirals.
“Turn,” he instructed.
Cate twisted, standing up so the water swirled about the curve of her thighs. He ran his fingers into the wet curls on her head, letting the sweet honey-scented bubbles build as he massaged her scalp. The white foam slid down her neck, trailing along the narrow channel of her spine.
His body shook as he gathered more lather from the bar. His hands moved in a sensual slide in the same path over her smooth skin. He skimmed and kneaded the back of her neck, the slope of her shoulders and arms, enjoying the feel of her. Rook lingered a little longer over the feminine dip of her spine and the glorious flair of her hips and curves of her bottom.
She was a goddess, wrapped in a sleek mortal shell, every inch of her supple, firm, and slippery beneath his touch. Rook contemplated how very wet and slick she would be within as well.
An appreciative groan escaped in her throat. “That feels decadent,” she murmured.
“Time for the front,” he said as stoically as he could manage, considering his verge ached and his body had become one great heartbeat from head to toe, pounding with the insane rush of his blood. Even the steaming water felt only lukewarm against his skin. She was a fire consuming him from the inside out.
Cate turned and gazed up at him from beneath her lashes, the sultry look in her eyes stealing away his ability to breathe.
“You are beyond beauty,” he said, with his last sip of air. Her skin, already rosy from the temperature of the water, didn’t reveal the blush he found so endearing, but the sparkle in her eyes and slightly parted mouth revealed her appreciation of his touch. Her lips tilted in a way that made his heart pound harder. He wanted a thousand moments—no, a million—like this with her. I love you, he said silently, unable yet to speak the words to her.
“I think the front is jealous,” she said, her tone husky and seductive.
He swallowed, his tongue too thick to speak, and merely smiled at her in reply. His hands shook as he took the lather bar between them.
His fingers, slick with the suds, traced over her, paying special attention to her breasts. Trails of the white foam slid over the rounded globes, down the curve of her ribs, and across the span of her soft belly. His hands eagerly pursued, learning each dip and hollow of her wondrous form.
“We aren’t doing much to get you clean,” she murmured. She arched a brow. “Stand up.”
At this point he would have torn the castle down stone by stone and rebuilt it if she had asked him to. The water sluiced off him in warm rivulets. Her gaze lingered on him and his verge flexed.
A glint of mischief sparkled in
her gaze. “This is going to take a lot more soap.” Without warning she pressed her wet body against him, the lather forming a sensual layer between them. Every curve of her slid against him, his verge moving against her belly, amplifying the red haze quickly taking over his vision.
Rook locked his arms around her and plunged them both up to their necks in the hot water. She gasped, the beads of her nipples rasping against his chest. He felt her heart beating hard and fast, like a bird trapped by the cage of her ribs.
“Lean back.” The raw edge of his voice betrayed his barely leashed need. She did, closing her eyes as he rinsed the lather from her hair, her curls swirling in the water and tangling in his fingers as he kissed the column of her neck, her breath coming in fast pants.
Beneath the water, Rook cupped her bottom in his hands, letting his fingers follow the indentation there until he found what he sought. She gasped and bucked against him, closing her eyes as he moved his fingers within the soft center of her.
He needed her permission. Needed her to say the words before he could do any more to please her. “Tell me what you want.” He increased the rhythm, making her writhe against his hand.
She groaned.
“Not good enough. I need your words.”
Her eyes snapped open. Blatant desire and impatience glazed them a brilliant green. “Take. Me. Now.”
He crushed his mouth to hers in a kiss both hungry and demanding. Cate responded with a ferocity that matched his own, her tongue mating with his as she wrapped around him like a vine, encircling him with her arms and legs. For an instant, Rook didn’t know if it was the moment or the water that made them buoyant. He only knew in that endless second, he was floating.
Rook pulled his fingers from her and lifted her body weight, shifting all at once so that his shaft plunged to the hilt in her tight wet heat. Sparks burst before his eyes, a surge of pressure rushing through him as the shimmer between them grew, forging a magickal bond. He groaned with the force of it.
Cate rocked back and forth on him. She looked glorious, her dark wet curls a riot about her face, her skin flushed pink and glistening. He imprinted the image on his mind, never wanting to forget the moment. Her fragile human beauty, the pure pleasure she radiated like sunlight in an aura around her, nearly blinding him. He grasped her hips.
§
The water sloshed over the edge of the tub as they moved in rhythm with each other, each seeking to touch the other’s soul. Cate’s head tipped back as she shuddered, her entire body tensing around him.
A blinding shower of sparks in her vision struck her momentarily blind as she climaxed and gladly followed him into the light.
Cate collapsed against him, her whole body feeling weightless, almost foreign to her. Rook’s bare chest lay damp beneath her cheek, his heart beating frantically. His hand gently stroked her hair, letting the curls tangle around his fingers, then down her wet back. Cate shivered. He held her so tenderly, as if she weighed nothing more than a pillow.
Her hand brushed along his shoulder, then encountered the wet roughness of cloth. She pulled back and glanced down, realizing it was the bandage.
“Your arm!”
He grunted, lifting her out of the water and striding from the tub. Cate unwrapped her legs from around his waist and slid down the length of him, her body tingling from the connection. The air seemed chilly after being in hot water with him, and her skin prickled into goose bumps.
“It is of no consequence.” He pulled a huge fluffy blue towel from a stack beside the tub and wrapped her in it. Instantly she was warmer.
“Well, at the very least, let me look at it,” she said stubbornly. The O’Connell women were not known for their easygoing nature.
“There’s no need, the healers—”
“Aren’t here,” she finished for him. “Sit down and quit being such a baby about it.”
He grumbled, wrapping a towel around his waist, then walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down. “Are you always this persistent when you want something?”
Cate padded over to him and smiled. “Yes.” She untied the wet bandages, unwrapping them and tossing them to the floor with a splat.
She was shocked to see the cut was healing so quickly that the skin was almost closed, but it was still angry and red. “You heal quickly, don’t you?”
Rook shrugged. “Told you it was of no consequence. As long as it isn’t iron, we can heal very quickly from the bite of a sword.”
Cate readjusted her slipping towel, tucking it in closer around herself, suddenly aware that she was completely nude in a strange place, in a foreign world with one hell of an attractive man who’d managed to strip her bare to her soul while she was in his arms.
“It could still do with being re-bandaged.”
“If you wish,” he murmured.
“Don’t want it ruining your clean clothes,” she answered softly.
Desire flared to life in his gaze. “You want to get dressed so soon?”
Cate fingered the damp curls on her head. Unless fae had blow-dryers, her hair was going to be a hopeless bush. She tried not to think too hard about what she might eventually look like if they rolled around on the massive bed behind him for a day or two or three.
“I didn’t say that, it’s just…” She bit her lip. How could she tell him she didn’t want to spoil the moment? Didn’t want to inject the harsh reality that no matter what she felt for him, she couldn’t stay? And she needed to ask him about more important things.
The warm, lazy smile on his face disappeared, his expression hardening into the far more serious warrior facade she remembered. “You want to find your friend. I haven’t forgotten.”
“It’s more than that.” She locked gazes with him, forcing herself not to look away. “Before I go home, I want to know about the invasion.”
And just like that, any trace of the man she thought she might love evaporated, replaced by the fae Prince of Shadows.
Chapter Eight
Not giving a damn if he were naked, Rook stood and let the towel drop to the floor. With an air of indifference, he pulled on the black shirt and black pants laid out for him on the dresser, as if her manner hadn’t wounded him. He hastily buttoned his blue wool military jacket with shaking hands, trying to block out the bruising hurt that overtook his chest.
She didn’t want to be here. She was as clever as any politician and had used his greatest weakness, his fondness for her, against him. Sucking him in like a fool to believe he loved her.
The thought that she might leave him, even after all they had shared, struck an arrow to his heart. He’d promised to help her find and save her friend. He’d been too blinded by love and need, and yes, too damned stupid to see that Cate intended to return home once she found her.
He deliberately ignored her question.
“The servants have left out clothing for you as well.” He paused, not sure he could let this time end so easily without telling her the truth. He shifted his weight and ground his teeth.
“Where are you invading?”
“Upland.”
“Why would you invade our world?”
He glared at her. “Because it was ours to begin with! We only want what is rightfully ours. And to save both our worlds.”
Cate bit her lip, her eyes troubled. “You knew this all along didn’t you?”
Rook nodded. What else could he do? It was the truth.
“So what does this have to do with me being a Seer?”
He tensed, his entire back going rigid. “Maybe it has nothing to do with it.”
Cate glared at him, and instantly Rook felt like a toad. He’d abducted her. Taken her from her family. And now she was going to face three trials in front of the Shadow Court to test her as a Seer.
“You’re worried you’re going to get in trouble if you help me find and free Maya, aren’t you?”
He grunted. “It’s not that.” He knew there would be retribution regardless of what path he chose now.
She came to him, putting her small hand on his chest and looking deeply into his eyes. “What is it? You can tell me.”
Her trust overwhelmed him. Even after she knew of the invasion, she still touched him. But her trust came at the worst possible time. The words revealing his betrayal were right there on his tongue, as bitter as ash, but he couldn’t stop himself from telling her. She had a right to know the consequences.
He reached for her, curving a damp curl of her hair around his finger. “Cate, there’s something else I need to tell you.”
She gave him a small, encouraging smile. She could have just as easily been a Glaxon, ripping the heart from between his ribs with its great claws. It would have hurt less.
“When a Seer is found, they are examined—”
“You mean like a test?”
“Yes, but—”
She shrugged. “That’s no big deal.”
“Dammit, woman, hush and let me say this thing.”
Cate snapped her lips shut and crossed her arms, acting as if she were already a crowned queen rather than a damp woman clothed in a bathing towel.
He closed his eyes, flexed his hands, and let out a slow breath to steady himself. Then Rook opened his eyes and stared at her. “Once you are proven a Seer, you are normally presented to the king. But now that we’ve been bound together, he won’t be able to bind with you. The only way he can access your powers is through our combined effort. You must wait for the right time for me to ask him to free your friend. We can use this combined power of ours as a bargaining chip.”
“Wait. I didn’t hear anything in there about being free to go home myself.”
Rook hung his head, unable to meet her penetrating gaze. “I only told you of the plans for the invasion because they won’t let you return home, Cate. Not now. Not ever.” He caught her gaze, hoping that what he couldn’t say would be understood. “They need you. I need you.”
Shadowlander (Shadow Sisters) Page 8
