by Bianca D’Arc
“I think, after the work she did in Waymeet, she could sleep through just about anything,” Rivka told him, feeling her heart warm at his gentle concern for the virkin.
Rivka lay on her bedroll, leaning up on one side to watch him. She’d arranged herself with her feet toward the flap of the tent, which he’d closed tightly behind him. She’s put her boots down there, so they’d be ready when she woke, but also to limit their movement within the tent. After all, they’d been walking the dusty streets of Waymeet all day, and though she’d tried to brush them off before entering the tent, they were still dirty.
Liam removed his boots, as well, following her example and keeping them near the entrance to the tent. The smell of wet leather dominated the enclosed space, and though it wasn’t altogether unpleasant, Rivka pointed at the boots, using a bit more of her inner magical fire to dry what she could.
Liam looked at her as the steam rose from his wet boots, one eyebrow raised. “Thank you, once again, milady.”
He spread his cloak so that he could have half beneath him and half to tuck over himself. She noted that he kept the open side of his cloak toward the middle of the tent…and her. She told herself not to read anything into that. He only had two choices, so maybe he’d chosen to face her side of the tent randomly. Why that thought depressed her, she refused to acknowledge.
Liam put the bag containing Ella above his head, in the far corner of the tent. The space was narrow, but plenty long enough for his tall frame. He made sure Ella was safe and comfortable, putting the bag on its side and opening the flap so she could get out easily if she wanted to. He was so thoughtful with the virkin. He would have been a thoughtful father, if fate hadn’t intervened.
Rivka knew how Liam’s only child, Livia, had been raised. He’d been at sea almost constantly while she was growing up, leaving her to the care of nannies and housekeepers. He’d visited, but that was no substitute for being there, Rivka believed. His search for vengeance had cheated both his daughter and himself out of those years. His now famous objections to Livia’s mating with two knights only proved, in Rivka’s mind, how out of touch he was with who his daughter was…though, he seemed to be learning. He may not like the mating situation, but he’d come to accept it. At least, she thought he had.
Liam began to lay down but paused. “Should I douse the light?” he asked politely.
“Sure,” she replied, “I can always relight it if we need it.” Being alone, in the dark, in the small tent with the storm raging around them suddenly seemed very intimate.
He blew out the flame in the camping lantern, and it was just as Rivka had feared. The small tent seemed to shrink even more. She stayed where she was, but she could sense Liam’s movements as he settled into his cloak, pillowing his head on one raised arm as he faced her across the short expanse. There was maybe a foot or two between them.
The silk of the tent muffled the sound of the storm, which seemed to have abated a bit since she’d invited him in. The thunder had moved farther away, and the rain came down in a steady beat against the fabric roof just a few feet above their heads.
“The winds seem to have died down a bit,” she observed, her voice loud in the darkness.
Liam made a sound of agreement. While Rivka had good night vision due to her dragon half, she could only just make out the general shape of Liam’s form beside her. She doubted he could see her at all, so soon after blowing out the lantern.
“I’m sorry to have to impose on you like this,” he said finally, regret flavoring his words.
“It’s little imposition. It’s your tent, after all. Had you not been so thoughtful as to pack it, we would both be out there in the rain, right now,” she reminded him.
Rivka didn’t mention the fact that she probably would have shifted into her dragon form to wait out the storm. Dragon scale didn’t get soaked the way hair and clothing did. She saw no need to point out their differences, yet again. She’d already done that by steaming the water away from his cloak and boots. She cringed. She just wasn’t used to dealing with purely human men she found attractive, who already knew her secret.
Being a black dragon meant living in the shadows. Only her family and Clan knew of her abilities. Others might know that black dragons existed in the world, but no one but her Clan knew which of them carried the gift. Not all of the Clan were so blessed. In fact, she had a younger brother who was purely human. The Clan regarded them both equally, thank goodness. Rivka had merely inherited the legacy of Dranneth the Wise while her little brother had not. He was still shaping up to be an excellent swordsman. He’d be a great warrior for the Clan once he was finished growing. As had their father been before him.
In fact, Rivka was the first black dragon born to her family in generations. It had been a surprise all around when she had started shifting at the age of ten. While everyone in the Clan was familiar with dragon shifters, nobody in her immediate family knew exactly what to do with her. She’d been sent to the nearest black dragon for training in her gift, though she’d been allowed to visit her parents for holidays, and they would often travel to see her.
Rivka’s upbringing hadn’t been precisely like poor Livia O’Dare’s. Rivka had always known her parents loved her, cared about how she was doing, and would be there for her in an instant if called. Rivka had lived with a kindly older lady who understood her gift and was able to open the world of flight to her and teach her the ways of her dragon side. She’d been like a second mother—or more like a grandmother, actually. It had been a good childhood, if a bit unorthodox.
“I’m just as glad to sleep in the dry,” Liam said, breaking into Rivka’s thoughts of the past. “I confess, all the years of being aboard ship with my own quarters have made me softer than I care to admit.”
“You?” Soft was not a word that equated in Rivka’s mind with anything at all about Liam. He chuckled, and the warm sound out of the dark sent delightful shivers down her spine.
“I’m not as young and adventurous as I once was,” he said, his voice coming to her from very near in the darkness.
“You’re not old, either, Liam.” His name just slipped out without her thinking about it, but it was too late to call it back, and the darkness somehow invited such intimacies…and more. The question was, would he—or, could they—take this any further than just whispering in the dark?
“You’re very kind, but I feel ancient next to a youngster like you.”
“Just how old do you think I am?” she asked him, feeling suddenly playful.
He remained silent, for a moment, before finally speaking. “The wisdom of years has taught me never to speculate aloud about a woman’s age. Invariably, it gets one into trouble.”
She giggled. It had been a long time since such a lighthearted sound came out of her mouth. She liked the way she felt when she was with him. He certainly kept her on her toes. And this midnight conversation was something else—something new between them. She liked it.
“Let’s just say I’m a lot older than I look. Remember, Liam, I’m half dragon. We don’t age the way regular people do. In fact, I’d hazard a guess that I’m just a bit older than you.”
“That’s not possible,” he told her immediately. “For I am aged in a way that you can never know. Grief has changed me forever.”
She couldn’t help herself. She reached out in the darkness and put her hand on his shoulder. He tensed under her touch for a brief moment before giving in to the compassion in her gesture.
“I do understand grief,” she told him quietly. The rain had died down to a muffled hum on the fabric above their heads. “I have lost those I loved most. Not a mate, but…family.” She found it hard to speak the words. Her Clan knew what had happened to her family, but she had never spoken of it to anyone else. “It is a wound that never quite heals.”
He sighed. “You do understand,” he said finally, placing his hand over hers on his shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’m sorry you had to experience it. Life should be happ
y, I always thought. Instead, it can become day after day of pain and sorrow.”
“It doesn’t always have to be like that,” she told him gently.
He took her hand in his and brought her palm to his lips, shocking her with the gentle kiss he placed there. Her whole body responded to his touch. If she had been standing, her knees would have wobbled.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Liam didn’t know what was driving him. He had resolved to avoid women, but Rivka… She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. He was powerfully drawn to her. Had been from the first. He’d tried to deny her sensual allure, but given the situation they were in at the moment, it was nearly impossible. Her understanding and compassion were his undoing. He found himself kissing her hand, and it felt so…right.
It shouldn’t feel right to touch another woman so intimately. It should be the worst blasphemy. The harshest betrayal of Olivia’s memory.
But it didn’t feel that way.
On the contrary, touching Rivka felt healing. Like her magic was reaching out to soothe the rough places in his soul. She just made him feel better whenever he was around her. And being here—in the privacy of the dark tent with her while the rain made their dry oasis a secret hideaway—felt more right than anything had in a very long time.
Liam knew she was responding to him, as well. He could hear the slight quaver in her voice, feel the trembling of her fingers in his. He heard the way her breath caught in her throat as he kissed her palm, and he could almost feel the yearning in her soul as her body involuntarily moved closer to his. There was so little space between them to begin with. It wouldn’t take much to align his legs with hers, to press against her and feel the length of her fit form against his.
“I must be crazy,” he whispered as he drew closer to her, his lips seeking hers. He moved slowly, giving her a chance to slide away, but she didn’t. Then, he heard her breathless words.
“Me, too.” And then, she reached across the space between them and kissed him.
Sweet Mother of All! She was kissing him and moving into his embrace the way he hadn’t even dared to dream about. She was all softness and curves against his body, the clothing she wore to sleep in more delicate than he’d expected.
Liam had noted her swords placed at the side of the tent within easy reach. Her light leather armor was at the head of the tent. What remained was soft against his hands. Loose pants and blouse in dark colors that she habitually wore under her armor and cloak. It slid aside under his questing touch, and then, he felt the tingle as his fingers touched her skin. A little sparkle of what felt like magic tickled his senses for a quick moment, then he felt the heat and softness of her creamy skin, and he was lost. Completely lost.
All thought ceased. Only sensation was left. Feeling and hunger. Passion and need.
Rivka couldn’t believe the fire racing through her veins. It had little to do with the familiar magical dragon fire. No, this was a flame of desire conjured by only one man. Liam’s touch started something undeniable. Unquenchable. Unimaginable.
Whatever this was, it was pure and…good. Dangerous, too, she knew. But, oh, so tempting. Rivka could not resist. She’d been so fascinated with Liam since the moment they first met. Traveling with him these past days had brought her new knowledge of the man behind the reputation. He was everything they said of him…and more. He was kind and gentle when the spirit moved him. He was patient with Ella and the children of Waymeet. He was sympathetic and strong. Clever and incredibly attractive in every way that mattered to Rivka.
She had wanted him in passion but had never thought it would be possible. His devotion to his dead wife was legendary. That he should unbend enough to make a move on Rivka spoke volumes about need and attraction. She didn’t mind. She felt the same. She knew going into this encounter that it probably wouldn’t last past the dawn.
Liam’s heart was already taken. Possessed by a dead woman who could not give it back. If Liam wanted to reclaim his heart to give to another, it would have to be up to him. Rivka knew deep down that he wasn’t there yet. That place of peace, justice and forgiveness hadn’t arrived for him. Maybe someday. But not this day.
Still, she would not deny him—or herself—the momentary passion that had sprung up between them. Rivka was no foolish girl to build daydreams around a man who could never be hers. She would take what she wanted—and what he could give—and be content. She had to. There was no other choice.
Rivka helped him rid her of her clothes and then pushed at his. He helped in return until their pants lay in a tangle near their feet and their tops lay in a similar pile, over her armor at the head of the long, narrow tent. His cloak and her bedroll made a soft, warm pad beneath them as they came together, skin to skin, body to body, heart to… Well, not heart to heart. Maybe person to person was a better thought to have at this moment, Rivka realized.
They were both needy. Both feeling the same wild attraction. That much was clear.
When he touched her with such fierce tenderness, she knew she was lost. His lips roamed down her throat to her breasts, licking, sucking and even gently nipping her skin in a way that drove her wild. He paused there, spending time enticing her, exciting her senses and ensuring that she was ready for more.
Rivka was impatient by the time his hands drifted lower to cup her butt. She didn’t want to waste time, but she was learning that Liam was a thorough lover. He stroked her legs with his hands and lifted her top knee over his thigh as she faced him. They were both laying on their sides in the dark space meant only for them. Rain thumped on the fabric over their heads, but nothing else mattered but the two of them, together, sharing these precious moments of passion.
His fingers sought and found the evidence of her desire. He traced little circles around the nub at the apex of her thighs, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips as he caressed that sensitive spot. Then, his seeking fingers swept lower and found their target wet and ready.
Liam thrust one digit gently within her, as if testing her readiness. Then, he added another finger, stretching her, driving her need higher. She liked what he was doing, but what she wanted was something more substantial than his hand. She wanted him. His cock. His possession. His passion.
And she wanted it now. All of it. Everything he could give her. Even if she knew the one thing she wanted most was off limits. His bruised and battered heart would be forever out of her reach.
But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at this moment but the satisfaction that was just out of reach.
“Don’t make me wait,” she whispered, need getting the better of her. She’d never begged a man for anything in her life, but Liam was coming damned close to making her do just that.
“Are you sure?” He paused long enough to ask, surprising her. One part of her mind didn’t want him to say anything, lest the mood disintegrate and he pull away. But he was cognizant enough to make sure she was on board with his plans, and he wasn’t stopping. Maybe he was a bit more aware of what they were doing here than she’d thought.
Maybe it wasn’t all mindless need and hunger denied too long. Maybe she wasn’t just any warm body in the dark night. Maybe Liam was more present here, making love to Rivka—not just some random female form. The thought touched something deep inside, stirring the forbidden hope that she’d thought she’d already dealt with.
Silly girl. Liam wasn’t for keeps. Not as long as Olivia held his heart.
Rivka would just take what she could get of him and be content. Right?
“I’m sure,” she replied.
He had no idea of the thoughts in her mind, and she’d keep it that way. This was a complicated thing, but it didn’t have to be that way. It could be just sex. Great, hard, sweaty sex. She would do her best to keep it to that and let them both return to normal—or as near as they could get—in the morning.
She rolled to her back and opened her thighs. She couldn’t be any more welcoming if she’d drawn up a sign. Liam’s face was clearly vi
sible to her night vision. She doubted he could see as much, but he definitely seemed to understand the invitation before him. Liam came to her and took his place between her legs.
Then, there was no more time for words, or even thought. Liam joined with her in a long, slow glide that filled every dark space within her soul she’d never known was empty. He paused, pumping gently, making sure of her comfort before he seated himself to the hilt. Then, he waited.
“All right?” he asked, his whisper gentle, though a bit strained.
“Fine. Keep going,” she urged him, earning a dark chuckle from him as he began to move.
The friction of him made her gasp as delicious sensations coursed down her spine, tingling all the way through her body. He was the focus of all that pent-up power. If she didn’t know better, she would call it the magic. The magic of two bodies coming together in passion.
He began a steady rhythm, designed, it seemed, completely for her pleasure. Oh, she got the impression that he was enjoying it too, but he was focused on her. She could see it in the gleam of his eyes. Feel it in the thrust of his hips. Sense it with everything that made her both dragon and woman.
This man above her was concentrating hard on making sure that the woman he was pleasuring walked away from the experience with a smile on her face. Make that a big, sappy grin. She’d never had a man so totally involved in making sure she got the best from him that she possibly could.
The experience, like the man, was incredibly special. He made her feel like a queen. Like a femme fatale. Like…he cared. Just the tiniest bit. And that thought was what broke her.
Rivka came with a groan as she clutched at his shoulders. She shook with spasms of delight as he held her, pulsing deep. And, when she started to come down from the climax, he started it, all over again, pushing her higher.
She hadn’t thought she had anything left after that first orgasm, but he proved her wrong. Again. And again.
