Pearls fell like silken rain down her numinous skin as the Charm of Unmaking dissolved the bonds of reality. The spirit pearl, chalice of her soul, throbbed against her throat like a second heart.
Bard's murmur struck answering chords in Min’s skin. “Beautiful.” She echoed his word from half-parted lips, unfurled it into the space between them like a prayer.
The lambent energy rippled through Bard like liquid light, delineated the truth of his nature. It was there in the scars on his hands, the corded strength of his arms. Pictures flashed through her consciousness like fragments of broken glass. The carved headboard with its trio of magical woods…oak, ash, and thorn. The arch of his back over the sinuous curves of his guitar. The runic sigils painted by his eager tongue.
Her mother didn’t send a Hunter. She sent…
“A Bard.”
She read the truth of him in this space between the worlds where all was laid bare. Saw there was no ill-will in him, only sorrow and the same chains of soul-killing duty that drove Min to escape the weight of obligation, a permanent exile.
He started to withdraw, but she wrapped her legs around him and held him close as her own beating heart, passion held poised at the curling brink of the wave. Her hands, freed of their nacreous bonds, speared through the sweaty tangle of his hair. She cradled his face in her palms, caressed his lips.
A quicksilver tear slid down his sculptured cheek. “The Edict Keepers…” He trembled in her arms, a quick shiver of dread that told Min all she needed to know.
Min brushed the tear from his cheekbone with her thumb. Bard closed his eyes, nuzzled her open palm, and laid a kiss in the center with soft lips.
“I can’t stop this.” His voice shivered with sorrowful halftones.
“I know.” Min steadied his face in her hands. She felt the insistent pressure of the spell building, knew that this strange suspension of time was about to shatter. “Just hold me.”
Bard’s eyes widened, glowed like rain-washed pines behind the weight of unshed tears.
In the space of a breath, Min felt him fill the corners of her soul with an unexpected song that matched her, completed her. And by the dawning wonder on his face, Bard felt it, too. She wrapped her legs around him and drew him in, welcomed him home.
Time returned with a thundering rush. Bard plunged into her, his shaft delving deeper with each arch and flex of his sweat-drenched abdomen. Each thrust of his body filled her with the warm tide of burgeoning magic, lashed the sigils in her flesh with ecstasy. Her body welcomed the thrust, the pressure, opened to receive him, to drink in him like he had devoured her willing flesh. She saw her own ecstasy reflected in the forest-deep eyes that never left her face, felt the sweet tension build in the quivering muscles of her abdomen. Saw his eyes widen to mirror her own as he reached the precipice, the nearly frantic flush that bloomed behind the white scar on his parted lips and tensed forehead. They arched together, stoked the flames. Cried out together as the orgasm rolled through them and melded their bodies into one shining whole.
Min’s body quivered with delicious shocks even as her mind, infused with the canny instincts of a hunted creature, clicked awake. She scooted back against the headboard, felt the carvings press into her back through senses that were beginning to fracture under the familiar tingling of Otherside energy, flavored with the buzz of portal magic.
Bard’s mouth worked, lips shaping words. The Music Man, the Bard whose words could bend reality, seemed bereft of speech. He raised a shaking hand, caressed her cheek. Whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Min met his eyes, showed him her love, her rage at the cruelty of the Edict, her grief at this inevitable parting. Bard’s magic pulsed and swelled beneath her skin, a basso thunder beneath the intoxicating melody that seduced her with the memory of champagne and Chanel, the thrill of the hunt, the sensuous taste of Bard’s scarred skin. She gifted him with a canny smile, a curve of lips that spoke of the sassy confidence of the fox who’d never been trapped.
"I'll be back," Min stoked the hope rising in his eyes with her vow, fought the inexorable impetus of the spell that dissolved her bones, still thrumming with the aftermath of desire. "I know every hidden door, every secret way."
Her body began to glow with a pearly sheen that reflected on Bard's face, clenched and wild. Silvered the single tear that rolled down his cheek. Min plucked the spirit pearl from her throat with fingers gone translucent. Laid the anchor of her soul in the palm of her captor, her deceiver, her Bard.
Min felt the energies building within her, shaped her features into a final foxy smile. "You can't...keep...me... away..." Her cry was lost in the silent shriek of energies that lifted her, translated her.
Through waves of transcendent ecstasy she kept her glory-drenched eyes on her final vision of Earthside.
Bard, slumped on his knees, eyes fixed on the pearl in his palm.
His last words followed her across the dimensions: "I'll be waiting."
Blood for Sin
By Remi McQueen
He stood by my side looking out to the sea. His hand at my waist smoothed over my gown up to the curve of my breast. We turned together and he dipped his head to kiss me. His mouth brushed mine with a soft, gentle kiss and I felt him tense as I pulled him in closer to deepen the kiss. The grip of his other hand grew tighter as I sank onto the grass with my arms around him. My hand moved up to open the neck of my gown to his exploring fingers and then opened his shirt so I could rub my flushed face against him. My legs felt too weak to rise with occasional frissons rippling from head to toe. I knew I should flee but I could not. I felt him gently lift my skirts and almost casually stroke my inner thigh. My eyes filled with joyful tears as he slid his cock inside me.
I awoke with a start, a lone tear sliding down my face. After all this time, he still haunts my dreams. A flare of anger at my traitorous body rose but quickly ebbed to a state of acceptance. It just was as it would always be. Cursing I rose from the chair. The book I had been reading prior to dozing off slid to the floor. I had avoided returning to Ireland for years and it had been a mistake to believe I could return now without a flood of memories. I could think no more of him now. Best to focus on the present and keep my head clear for these were dangerous times.
War was raging between the English and the United States but there was profit to be made for those brave enough to keep the lines of trade open. But I had spent too many years at sea already – the price too heavy on my soul.
Just weeks ago, I sold my ship to my first mate – his last mission for me to return me to Caherciveen, the only place on dry land that had ever felt like home. I have many allies here amongst the Irish, those willing to hide an American just to defy the English, and so I have returned to this cottage hidden on a secluded trail that I had abandoned to memories a long time ago.
Tonight is Oiche Shamhna and I have been invited to a celebration at Ballycarbery Castle. Two centuries ago, the English forces attacked the castle and the family inside burned to death in the top tower. On certain nights, the flames can be seen and the screams can be heard from the tower windows and such a display I witnessed as I departed Ireland on that fateful voyage all those years ago. I should have heeded the omen but I was young and thought myself and those with me to be invincible.
I had obtained my scarlet gown for the evening in Andalucia but never before had an occasion to wear it – too busy fighting to stay alive in ports like Portmagee. Smuggling was not a safe occupation for a man and was twice as deadly for a female. But I had survived to finally wear this gown. I brushed my flaxen hair until it shined and then donned a mask of black satin outlined in scarlet to match my gown. I put on sleek Italian-made black boots for slippers would not do for the walk on the trail to the castle.
I lit a lantern and stepped out of the cottage onto the slim path that serpentined its way along the coast – only a handful of people knew the correct trail to take to my cottage – one could easily get misdirected and end up either on a sl
iver of beach in the middle of nowhere or on the rocks below the cliffs. Therefore, the location of the cottage was completely perfect for a criminal like me.
As I neared the final clearing, I could hear the laughter, the music, and the singing. It was right for me to come here – I had hidden myself away too long. I snuffed my lantern and placed it near the trail for my return home. I followed the light of the bonfire into the crush of people.
Almost immediately, I was swept up into the arms of a burly fisherman for a jig. After that, my partners became a blur. Finally, the crowd began to tire and the musicians announced a waltz – the new forbidden dance adopted by the English. I had learned it on the continent and did not find anything overly scandalous about it but by this time, I was a bit breathless and hoping to sneak away from my over-enthusiastic dance partners for a brief rest.
As I stepped away, my path was blocked by a figure dressed in black. I looked up into his face obscured by a black mask. His blue eyes seemed to be absorbing the flames of the bonfire as I recognized the sensual curve of his mouth. It could not be. My legs nearly gave way beneath me as he spoke, “May I have this dance, Cat?” Hearing the timbre of his rich voice ignited a flame from my core and my mouth went too dry to speak. I could only slightly nod in response but he noted my assent and took my arm in invitation.
He held my waist possessively – held me closer than any strict dance instructor would ever allow. We fell into the perfect rhythm of the rise and fall of the dance and as our bodies seemed to melt into one, I realized why this dance was causing a scandal. I forgot the crush of people around us, aware of only the magnetic pull of his body to mine. I forgot all the questions I wanted answers to and placed my head on his chest and allowed myself to be lost in the dance. At some point, the music stopped and he maneuvered me into the inside of the once great hall of the castle as a lively reel began.
Reflections of the bonfire outside danced on the walls as he pushed me up against the burnt stones. Instinctively, I pulled out my dagger which I pointed at his chest. I still could not speak, could only stare at him for what seemed like hours while I gripped the dagger.
“So Cat, are you going to kill me or kiss me?”
“I have not decided yet,” I said finally finding my voice.
He smiled then, a seductive knowing smile. “If you wanted me dead, Cat, I would be.” He was right but I would never admit it. At that moment, I was angrier at myself than him but I pushed at him with a force that seemed to startle both of us and ran for the crowd and then beyond to the trail, to home, to safety.
I had not even bothered to retrieve my lantern, running along the trail from memory, coming dangerously close to losing my footing at times due to the narrow heel on my boots until at last I reached the cottage. The fireplace was down to embers so I placed a few logs on the fire still clutching the dagger in one hand before turning to see him standing in the doorway.
I had no time to consider how he had found his way so quickly as he slammed close the door and came silently towards me sweeping me into his arms and down gently to the floor. He kissed my collarbone as his hands began to open my gown. He kissed one breast, then the other – my nipples so hard they could have burst. I could say no words – only soft moans of longing. I released the dagger from my grip and as it slipped to the floor, I went straight for him and felt the familiar hardness of his cock. He brushed my hand away and slid his face down my body, over the curve of my belly, and then he took me into his mouth. I screamed then but there was no audible sound. It was not a scream of pain but of shock and delight, an acceptance of my fate. I pulled his mask away urging him to continue. As his tongue lovingly stroked my clit as only he could, his stubble lightly scratched my thighs. His mouth closed on me again, and again, and again in little biting thrusts, I moaned and felt as if I were going mad. I put both hands down to his head to force his face into me. I rubbed myself against him and then in one agonizing second after another as his mouth feasted on the soaked aching length of me, I shuddered a deep hoarse cry ending in a whisper of his name. I could say nothing and I could not move. My body was tingly all over and waves of pleasure rippled through me. None of it seemed real. So much so that I almost imagined his mouth kissing my inner thigh lightly and then his teeth gently biting, his tongue licking droplets of blood.
He then laid his head between my breasts and after a few moments asked, “Willing to forgive and admit you are happy to see me now, Cat?”
I reached down and lifted his chin up to kiss his lips careful not to look into the fathomless blue of his eyes. I wondered if I had tasted a hint of blood in that kiss as I pulled the mask from my face and said, “Not yet. But with further persuasion, I might be willing.”
Once my head cleared from the pleasure he had brought me, I knew that rationally I should demand that he leave, but these words I could not say.
He stood and reached down a hand to assist me in standing. I took his hand but once I stood facing him, he did not release my hand but instead raised it to his lips for a soft kiss. I was puzzled by this small act of tenderness as men rarely treated me as a delicate woman.
He smiled as he spoke, “I know it has been too many years and I know you are proud, Cat, but I hope you will allow me the opportunity to earn back your trust even though admittedly I am not worthy of it.”
I was not ready to speak of the past so I said, “The night grows cold. We should move to the bed in the loft.”
“Then you will not demand that I leave?” He was smiling smugly.
I smiled at that – even after this long absence, he knew I would not send him away. In response to his question, I allowed my loosened dress to fall to the floor and removed my undergarments and then clad only in my boots and stockings walked to the stairs. He had not seen my body in years and I knew I was changed but when I turned, I did not see disappointment in his eyes, only desire.
He followed me up the stairs and when I sat on the bed, he knelt before me and unlaced and removed each boot before slowly lowering the stockings down each leg trailing kisses from my inner thigh down to my ankle.
He stood and pulled off his boots as I reached for him and began to undo the laces of his shirt. Once he pulled off the shirt, I slid my hand slowly down his chest down to his cock as if memorizing the feel of him. I slowly undid the buttons of his breeches as he hardened. Once he slipped entirely out of his clothes, he stood before me and I noticed the scars, faded but unfamiliar – but it was not time for questions.
“Lie down on the bed, Sin. I want to taste you.” My demand pleased him for he quickly was on the bed. I immediately straddled his thighs and took the tip of his cock into my mouth but only briefly making him groan. If it could be considered that a male member was beautiful, I had always considered his to be so but there was no need to rush my enjoyment of him.
I slid my body on top of him and I noted his eyes change to a deeper blue just for me as I lowered my mouth to his for a deep probing kiss. I then took my time with gentle fingertips and my tongue to explore the scars – the ones on his chest, then his arms, and then the ones on his thigh. I kept licking my way up his thigh and then my hands held his hips as I took his cock full into my mouth. I relished the taste of him – it had been much too long. I slid one hand down to massage his balls and then used my tongue to outline the curve of them before returning to his cock. I licked and slightly dragged my teeth against him as I took him inch by inch deeper into my mouth. I began moving my head up and down as I continued to suck him as my hand continued to massage his balls – sucking, stroking, sucking, stroking – more and more using my fingers to add further pressure until he groaned as he came within my mouth. I slid my body up beside him and he placed an arm around me as he said in a somewhat hoarse voice, “God, Cat, I do not deserve you. There is much for me to explain. It needs to be said.”
Like a sated cat, I curled up against him. “For a time, I grieved for you as if you were dead. Let me have this night to enjoy the feel of you once mo
re.”
He sighed and said, “As you wish.” And I soon drifted off to sleep in his arms.
When I awoke sometime before dawn, I felt I must still be dreaming as he was placing kisses down my spine. At first I pretended to still be asleep but as the kisses got to my sensitive lower back, my need for him increased and my hips arched towards him. “Ah, so you are awake,” he said before his tongue licked the curve of one of my buttocks. I could respond only with an “mmmm” sound. He lifted and positioned my body before he entered me from behind. I cried out with pleasure as his hands moved to hold my breasts as our bodies rocked – none too gently – against each other. I could feel him coming and slightly adjusted my body to fully feel his seed exploding within me. He laid on top me long enough only to whisper, “I am sorry, Cat. I was greedy. I should have seen more to your pleasure.” He retook his place beside me and I whispered, “Next time.” He smiled at that and I closed my eyes once more enjoying his warmth and nearness.
When I awoke again, he was gone. My body still tingled and the part of the bed where he had laid was not yet cold. In our youth, our lovemaking had sometimes been awkward and often frenzied but all of this was something new yet familiar. I was disappointed that he was gone for I would have taken my pleasure with him once – or even twice more – before rising from bed.
Reluctantly I got up from the bed and began to wonder if I should have allowed my body to surrender to him – a man who had betrayed me whom I had long thought lost or even dead to me. But what was done could not be undone and I had willing – more than willing – given myself to him after all this time. I had seen in my travels opiate addicts and he could so easily be such a drug for me. I could not allow him to overtake my thoughts and had to will my body to not ache for him. I was curious though as to why he had returned after so long only to leave so suddenly.
Sinsperationally Yours Page 27
