by Ann Macela
Her inhalation gained him entrance into her mouth, and he kissed her deeply. And deeper still. Until she was only conscious of his mouth on hers, their tongues dueling, his fingers fondling a breast grown increasingly sensitive, his alluring scent filling her nostrils. The hum from their centers oscillated in time with the blood beating in her ears and the thrusts of his tongue.
He dragged his mouth from hers, pressed kisses down her neck, over the vein throbbing there, and down to her breast where he swirled his tongue around her hard and aching nipples. When he suckled, waves of heat rippled through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on the sensations, so much stronger than their last time on his living room floor.
Lack of sight, however, seemed to intensify the ache, now compounded by a fierce longing and rampaging need, as she concentrated entirely on her breasts and his actions. He roamed from one breast to the other, and she arched her back and pushed against his mouth, searching for relief.
When she didn’t find it, she moaned and began to move, twisting and turning against his hard, rigid body. Her captive arms strained against his hand, and her free leg rubbed and lifted against his, but nothing brought even temporary relief.
“Easy,” he murmured against her skin.
Easy? More like torture. The aching traveled from her breasts to between her legs, and grinding herself against his thigh didn’t help, even made it worse. When the throbbing went from merely discomfort to torment, she protested with a wordless cry.
He must have realized the tumult she was undergoing because he slid his hand down her ribs to her hip and nudged her back, away from him. When his fingers settled in the curls at the apex of her thighs, he ceased his attention to her breasts and said in a raspy, gravelly voice, “Open your eyes.”
When she did, her gaze met his—concentrated, intent, scorching. Hardly any blue showed around the black of his iris. It was the look he’d given her from the moment they met—only multiplied by a thousand. It seared her soul.
He used his thigh to open her legs wider, and his hand cupped her, explored her hidden folds. Each sliding caress along her slick swollen flesh brought a tiny bit of relief. Mostly it intensified her need for more—more stroking, more pressure, more …
“Marcus,” she groaned, pushing against his hand below and against his hand above.
“Glori,” he whispered and slid his wet thumb over her nerve-filled nub.
As shock waves ran upward through her body, he thrust one finger into her core. It felt so good, and she contracted her inner muscles around him, held him tight. When he began to stroke in and out, she arched and worked her hips to match his movements. When he rubbed and flicked that most sensitive spot also, every muscle in her body tightened. She grew even hotter, and she hauled in air as though she was running up a huge hill.
Inside her, pressure began to grow, pushing her harder against his hands, arching her back in a deeper curve. The blood beat faster in her ears, and her body began to vibrate from the hum of her center.
His eyes still bore into hers; it was impossible to look away. She saw raw need behind the lust, powerful desire within the heat, and the sight doubled and tripled her own.
The pressure built and built in a long crescendo. She was beyond consciousness except for what she saw in his eyes and what she felt in his touch. Greater and greater her excitement built, faster and faster her hips moved, her lungs worked. Until finally, finally, she went blind as long shudders wracked her, and the release seemed to throw her to another dimension.
Panting and limp, she focused her eyes to find him still gazing at her, but with definitely a look of sheer satisfaction. He’d released her hands, and she reached to pull him into a kiss. By the time he raised his head again, both of them were breathing hard.
Marcus gazed at her for a long moment before lifting himself up and over her and kneeling between her legs. He leaned down to kiss her again softly and had to smile against her lips when she languidly ran her hands from his hair, over his shoulders, and down to his arms.
Good. His instinct had been correct: bring her to a small measure of satisfaction to slow her down. She had finally stopped fighting him, stopped trying to rush to completion. While satisfying in one sense, their first and second lovemaking episodes had left much to be desired—especially the opportunity and the time to touch, to caress, to savor, to delight.
If she was going to teach him how to be a soul mate, he could teach her the joys of slow lovemaking. From all the evidence, she had a much harder job than he did.
At the moment, however, waiting, holding back was practically killing him. His blood was racing through his body, his cock was throbbing with its pressure, and if he didn’t get inside her soon, he knew he’d spontaneously combust.
Patience, man, patience.
He stopped kissing her lips and moved down her body to her delectable breasts, where he feasted until she was moaning and moving restlessly again.
“Marcus …”
He raised his head and met her eyes. The green was softer than he’d ever seen. “Yes, Glori …”
“I want to touch you,” she whispered.
Her words caused his cock to twitch. It wanted her to touch, too. If he was going to explode, however, it would damn sure be inside her. It was an effort to speak. “Not yet. I want to be in you when I come.”
Her eyebrows went up, and an O formed on her lips. She must not have realized the effect she had on him.
“We have a mating to accomplish first,” he said. He braced his upper torso on stiff arms and positioned himself at her entrance between her bent legs. “This one’s for keeps. Watch.”
She raised her head and he bent his, and together they watched themselves joining. She raised her legs to grip his hips, while he slowly pushed in, all the way to the hilt. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, and the heat, and wetness, and grip of her sheath took his breath.
A perfect fit. She was perfect, made for him and he for her.
The hum increased in volume and intensity when he looked back into her eyes. Hardly any green showed, yet what did gleamed like emeralds.
She brought her hands to his chest on either side of his breastbone and said, “Touch my center when I touch yours.”
“Why?”
“Because it will complete the circuit.”
Her words didn’t make much sense, but he did what she asked. He transferred his weight to his left arm and placed his right hand directly over her center. Hers was directly under his breastbone.
“On the count of three,” she said. “One. Two. Three!”
And lightning struck, a bolt of magic power that fused them together.
Energy swirled around them, through them, in circles, from hand to magic center to where they were joined below and back up. Under his hand, he could feel her heart beating, matching his rhythm.
The hum dropped an octave, pulsated in sync, increased in volume. Their bodies heated even more, straining for a goal just out of reach.
It wasn’t enough.
He came down on his left elbow, took her mouth in a deep, hot kiss. Another road for the circuit opened through that connection, and energy surged, oscillating between them.
Everything—heartbeat, vibration, energy level, temperature, tension—increased yet again; they had to be incandescent from the surging power.
It still wasn’t enough.
Move! He had to move.
He pulled slowly part of the way out of her torrid depths and thrust slowly back in. A second time. A third. Each time she squeezed her inner muscles as he withdrew, welcomed him in on the return.
It was seduction of the highest order. It was heaven. It was home.
The energy, the beat, the heat, the hum, all spurred him on, and he began to move more rapidly, with greater and greater force. He thrust with his tongue and his body, powerful driving lunges that almost raised her off the bed. She gripped his hips tighter with her legs and rose to meet him.
&n
bsp; The hum accelerated, deepened into a roar, the drum beat faster and faster as he coiled and recoiled, withdrew almost all the way and plunged back in. His world compacted to them alone, the rhythmic thrusts of his cock and his tongue, her answering responses—and the transcendent energy coursing through them.
They were melting, fusing, becoming … becoming one.
Climax came with a lightning bolt of energy and a bone-vibrating clap of thunder in a simultaneous storm of contractions that seemed to last forever. When it subsided, the tempest left behind great wonder, enormous elation, and ecstatic bliss.
And utter exhaustion.
Marcus managed to gather enough presence of mind to hold on to Gloriana and roll to put her on top, sprawled across him. For a while, only the sound of their breathing broke the silence.
After a few minutes, she lifted her head. She blinked lazily and whispered, “Wow.”
He nodded. “I agree. Wow.”
She slumped back down and wiggled until she had aligned herself to him, centers parallel and touching, his cock right between her folds. She stretched one arm up on the pillow next to his head and rested her own head on it. He idly rubbed her back and let his mind go blank. They both dozed.
Some time later, Gloriana stirred. Their magic centers still hummed—more of a purr, really. His hands, which had been holding her hips, began to move up and down her back in a light caress. She raised her head. His blue eyes were looking straight into hers out of a solemn face.
“Hi,” she said, wondering what his expression meant. Surely the man wasn’t reverting to his past behavior.
“Hi to you, too.” He smiled, turned it into a grin, and hugged her fiercely, rocking them from side to side.
She hugged him back and returned his grin.
“Oh, Glori, I love you so.”
“I love you, too, Marcus.” The words, both from him and her, sent thrills down her spine. She kissed him to seal the pact.
After they recovered from that, he said, “That had to be a bonding mating. There was enough magic energy between us to levitate the building.”
“I have no idea what I had been anticipating, but the reality was stupendous. Daria and Francie were right when they said it was transcendent. When you said this time was for keeps, their words came back to me. Touching centers seemed the thing to do.”
“It certainly was.” He gave her another hug and a kiss. When they surfaced for air, he asked, “What next?”
“What time is it?” She stretched to see the clock. “Oh, it’s going on eight. I had planned a leisurely dinner, as I remember. What about something to eat?”
“Room service,” he stated and grinned. “Then we can practice mating again.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
A shower first involved some creative uses of soapy hands and more “practice” and delayed them until they barely had time to don the plush robes the HeatherRidge provided before the food arrived. After they’d shooed the waiters out, Marcus looked over at his mate—his mate—and grinned. He was simply so damn happy he was giddy.
“My goodness,” Gloriana said, surveying the huge dinner. “Steak, lobster, everything from soup to nuts. Oh, look at the scrumptious dark chocolate dessert. We didn’t order all this, did we?”
“No,” Marcus answered with a laugh. “I was going to tell you but I got distracted by the sight of you in the shower. When I called them, Room Service said Fergus had taken care of ordering for us and asked when we wanted it delivered.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Look, here’s a note.” He picked up the envelope leaning against his wineglass and took out a card. He read it aloud.
Dear Gloriana and Marcus,
Enjoy! If your first days as soul mates are like mine and my Bridget’s were, you’ll need to keep up your strength.
Fergus.
“He knows?” She didn’t look happy at the revelation.
“Yes, I told him and John.” Her frown said he’d better explain, and he continued, “When we couldn’t find you, I got a little anxious, I guess. They asked why, so I told them.”
“I hope they’ll keep the news to themselves.”
“I asked, and they will.” He brushed away thoughts of John and Fergus to concentrate on what was before them. He picked up his knife and fork. “I’m starved. Let’s eat.”
They both ate like they hadn’t seen food in a month.
After dessert, Gloriana leaned back and patted her stomach. “I’m stuffed. I don’t remember eating this much even when I’ve been casting spells all day.”
“Me, either. Must be that expenditure of magic energy.” Marcus took a last swig of coffee. “Speaking of spells, we haven’t figured out the other benefit of bonding—the possible change in magic potential.”
“So, let’s see. Here’s my old level twelve,” she replied. She cast her red lightball and took it up the levels to an indigo sphere with a few higher violet swirls. “Now I’ll push it.”
The violet curls increased in number, size, and color intensity until the ball was almost totally violet with only a tiny bit of indigo showing.
“I think that’s a level thirteen,” Marcus said. “Let me try.”
He cast his sphere in the same manner she had, bringing it up from red to his old level of eleven, an indigo ball with a few lower bright blue swirls. “Something feels different …”
He focused his energy in his center and projected it outward to the glowing globe. As the blue melded into the indigo and violet appeared, the well of power in his center expanded like it never had before. He poured on the power until he could find no more within him. In front of him floated a sphere identical to hers.
“That looks like another level thirteen to me,” she said. “That’s great! A two-level increase in power. My research said that much augmentation is rare. How do you feel?”
He rubbed his center. “I’m fine, I think. When I started pushing higher than my old level, it felt like my center inflated and more and more energy cascaded in. Man, I can’t wait to try the higher-level math spells.”
“Oh, you’re right. I didn’t think that far ahead. What fun we’ll have learning new ones, and the power increase will help my plant growth spells.”
Marcus looked at her, and the sight of her animated face, her thoroughly mussed hair, and her sparkling eyes tossed all ideas about spells out of his head. He rose, came around the table, and pulled her up into a hug. “Looks like a successful mating to me!”
He was luxuriating in the sheer feel of her in his arms and thinking they had to get out of these thick robes, when she stiffened and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Marcus, turn around,” she said in a low, wondering tone.
He leaned back to look down at her, but she was gazing toward the table. Keeping one arm around her, he pivoted—and froze, staring in amazement.
The two spheres they had left floating over the table had drifted to touch each other, and while he watched, they began to merge—and grow. A low hum reverberated in the background.
“I’m not doing a thing to my sphere,” she whispered.
“Me, either,” he whispered back.
When the two globes had joined completely, the resulting orb was twice the size of one of the originals and totally violet.
“Are you still supplying power?” he asked. “I had mine on automatic pilot.”
“Yes, so did I. I usually don’t even think about cutting maintenance energy until I don’t need it.”
“Cancel your spell on three. One, two, three.”
With a little “Bink!” the lightball vanished.
“Cast yours again,” Gloriana said, the excitement in her voice matching his exhilaration at the discovery.
They cast, the balls appeared, and with no compunction from either, drifted together and blended into one. The hum returned, a low thrum in the air.
“Marcus? Do you feel something in your chest?”
He glanced down at
her. She held a hand to her magic center. He concentrated on his. “It feels like there’s even more power in it than there was a minute ago when I cast the first lux and all that energy rushed in. I thought when you bonded, the enhancement took place, you rose in level and acquired more magic energy, and that was it. The way I feel now, my energy is still increasing. What’s going on? “
“I have more energy, too, all of a sudden, but I didn’t feel a rush. The energy is simply there for me to use. Furthermore, the hum is back, and if we can go by the colors, that combined, totally violet ball is a higher level than we are individually. Maybe there’s more to our enhancement than we realize.”
“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Let go of each other.”
They separated, and the hum disappeared, although the larger sphere remained and did not change color.
“My center went back to its former enhanced state,” she said.
“Mine, too.”
“Isn’t that the damnedest thing?” she said. “I wonder what it means. We have to show that to somebody. Lulabelle, of course. Who else might know about it? I found no reference to blending lightballs in my research.”
Marcus looked down at her as she rattled on about research. The merging of the two spheres had had a definite effect on him—or maybe he was simply in a “merging” mood himself. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was talk about lightballs, so he silenced her in the most effective way he knew how.
When he raised his head some minutes later, their robes were open, they were skin to skin, both of them were panting, and she had been moaning. “Come on, woman,” he murmured. “Let’s do some coalescing and fusing of our own.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Saturday night Gloriana tried to keep her face expressionless as she looked out over the place she least wanted to be—another HeatherRidge ballroom filled with contentious people. She’d much rather be back in the Soul-Mate Suite with Marcus. They’d been apart for only a couple of hours today—shopping for new clothes to wear tonight—and it had seemed like an eternity.
