Orion glides across the cold floor, still wrapped in his white robe, and leads me across the bridge to the source of the insistent splashing. Across the entirety of one wall is a waterfall, covering the bare rock face in a rush of white spray and transparent curtains of fluid.
“A waterfall?” I look at him incredulously and he laughs again.
“I already told you… If I’m going to be going to the trouble…”
“Of building a house from scratch you’ll have what you want yada yada yada...” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand and he grins, wielding his magic house remote from the depths of his robe pocket.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, wondering what he could possibly control in a room with walls made of bare rock.
“You said you wanted to see the master suite,” he purrs, sliding an arm around my fluffy waist. I curl into him, his solidness as always a comfort to me. He bends to kiss me and presses a button on the remote and as I open my eyes I see the waterfall part, falling away from the centre of the wall in two sweeping curtains as double doors that are fashioned from the rock itself swing toward me.
“Oh my Goddess.” I bring my hands up to my mouth.
“I believe you wanted privacy.”
“So you got us a waterfall?” I ask him with a raised eyebrow and he nods smugly.
“You are mad.” I shake my head, ringlets tickling my ears as I step cautiously into the master bedroom. Orion steps in behind me and the doors swing shut, the sound of the waterfall eclipsed completely. The silence takes me away from the troubles of the impending war, the responsibilities of the Occulta Mirum, and to where I want to be. With Orion.
Before me spreads pure decadence, the floor is a deep mahogany with white fur rugs placed, straight edged, parallel to the walls. The walls, now I mention it, show what the room once was or has been modified to look like, which is a cave. This however is not the most magnificent show of nature within the room. A panoramic glass window looks out of the cliff face in which I am encased, onto the sea and the giant white orb which is kissing its sparkling surface tenderly. In the centre of the room is the bed, glazed in a beam of dim light from the scattered candles and fairy lights that cling to the crevices in the wall’s natural formation. It is circular and stands on an elevated platform, a sensual stage that I can see can be closed off from the rest of the room by a white gossamer curtain that hangs limply from a curved iron rod. Above the bed is more glass, a skylight of wide proportions opening up to the velvet blanket of the night which is scattered with diamond like stars. The sheets on the bed are scarlets and plums, warm colours, the colours I flush when Orion is undressing me under his burning gaze.
“Scarlet silk?” I question him and he looks at me oddly.
“You don’t like the colour?” He asks and I shrug my shoulders.
“I’m just surprised. I never figured you for liking scarlet. It’s so blatant.” I admit to him and he comes towards me.
“So are you.”
“You think I’m blatant?” I ask him and he smiles at me.
“Of course. There’s no mistaking what you want, Callie. You’re headstrong.” He removes his robe and stands in the light of a hundred flickering flames, unveiling his glory to me in a brash yanking of the robe from his form.
“I don’t think that’s true,” I comment, biting my lip as I step up onto the raised platform and towards the bed.
“You don’t? You’re a pretty insistent little thing in bed,” he quirks a smile and one breaks across my lips unwillingly.
“You don’t seem to mind.”
“I relish your demands, Miss Pierce,” he purrs, eyes set on me like a jungle cat readying himself to take down his prey. I roll back the white fleece of my robe from my shoulders and let it fall, pooling thickly at my feet. I watch Orion move swiftly around the bed, as though my barren flesh has called to him, as though the space between us is painful.
“You’re pretty demanding yourself,” I mutter as he reaches me and pulls me toward him, yanking my head back with one hand and pulling one of my knees to his hip with the other. I break the kiss, looking into his frenzied expression. I know I’ve been flirting, but I can’t help myself. I know he needs to talk, scream, maybe have a good cry. I’m so conflicted in this moment between what I want and I what I know he needs I can’t help but sigh, “Orion I…”
“Shh,” he places a finger to my lips and looks at me with a ferocity I had thought reserved for feral beasts.
“But…” I begin and he kisses me again, shoving his hands into my hair, yanking my waist forward, and clutching at my back. I break away, gasping, my lips red and tender.
“I…” I begin again but he pulls me in closer.
“I need this. Here. Now. Just let me love you, Princess. Please.” He pleads with me in a guttural breathless torrent of truncated longing. He traces a finger up my bare spine. I shiver and relinquish, giving into my selfish desires. He pulls me down to the bed with him and takes me, aggressively and without mercy, into a place of thoughtless, submissive ecstasy on top of blatant, bloody, scarlet sheets.
ORION
I lay next to her and watch her, sleeping soundlessly. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Sleeping. I wonder why. Is it because she’s noticed I’m impenetrable? I wonder when I became like this, so desperately hungry and yet empty… I wonder if it was because I had waited such an eternity for her to arrive, that the dam of unrequited passion had finally burst and had taken my sweet sensibility with it. Her lips match the sheets, scarlet and raw after my possession of them. She stirs beneath, alabaster skin paler than ever by contrast to the ‘blatant’ folds. Had I thought about the colour of the sheets when I’d designed this room? Probably not, but it seems now to be fitting, fitting that I’m devouring her one limb at a time atop them… fitting that she looks so fragile, so porcelain, lying out naked against them. I rise out of the bed, leaving her alone under the soft fusion of moon and candle light and sweeping my robe off the floor. The pockets are heavy. Maybe that’s what’s really weighing on my mind. I step across the soft rugs that I had picked to warm her cold feet, they’re always so damn cold.
I stand in front of the motion activated doors to the walk in closet I had installed for her shoes and clothes… she had mentioned something about loving shoes and clothes once, I suppose that’s a female thing. Whatever she wears, she looks beautiful, but I know she looks most beautiful when she’s wearing nothing but a smile. I grin foolishly. The closet stretches out and the doors sweep together behind me, reconstituting the appearance of the rock face. I turn a sharp right and move into the depths of the space, pulling a pair of jeans over my ass and a white shirt over my shoulders, after dumping my heavy robe onto the corner of the chaise longue I had upholstered in red silk too. I look at it and imagine spreading Callie out over the arch of the seat spread eagled.
I look back at the robe lying over the arm rest and internally slap myself. What the hell am I doing? I’m acting like she’s a common prostitute... like the women before. Goddess, am I that perverse? She’s eighteen for the love of all that’s holy. I look at the robe again, unable to draw my eyes away. I walk over to it, palming the fabric and feel the weight. I sit back into the chaise longue and let it hold me. Goddess knows I need it. I rummage through the pocket and pull out my remote. But that isn’t the weight that’s been weighing heavily on me. I dig deeper and feel it hit the tips of my fingers. Velvet. I grasp it, wondering if by holding it tightly enough I can wrangle it. Make it bend to my will. Take the power it holds over me away. I pull it up, facing the beast. Of course I’ve seen it before. But this is the first time I’ve really held it. Had it in the palm of my hand with Callie sleeping next door no less. I examine it. It’s so small. I pop the lid and my breath is rushed away on a wind of anticipation and fear. I haven’t been this nervous since I waited for her to open her eyes after that night. It winks back at me in the light. All two carats, glinting in the stark florescent of the closet, nestled against the
tiny ice blue tinted pearls and aquamarines. It’s a beautiful ring. The conversation with Saturnus still haunts me now. I remember, leaning back against the red silk.
One fortnight ago…
“Orion, you have to understand. You’re going to be crowned ruler, Callie needs to be at your side, supporting you.”
“She will be,” I bite out at him, angry as per usual.
“Yes, but for how long Orion? She’s stubborn, she’s restless. She wants to fight. You can’t allow that.”
“And what do you want me to do, Saturnus? Collar her? Tie her to something? She’s a grown woman for Goddess’ sake!” I exclaim looking at him.
“The stunt she pulled, not telling you about her role as ‘The vessel’ was reckless, we both know that Orion. She’s a risk. She’s dangerous.”
“She’s also my soulmate,” I remind him, breathing in and out thoroughly, trying to extinguish the anger that flares within by consuming as much water as possible.
“Exactly.” He looks at me blankly and unfeeling.
“What do you mean?” I ask him with a cocked brow.
“I mean you need to get her under control. It’s your responsibility. You two are an example to us all. You need to show unity, especially now.”
“Callie doesn’t like being dressed up like a pony and paraded around. I don’t blame her and you can’t make me force her to do anything. She’s her own person,” I remind him again.
“I was thinking about that. Have you thought about marriage?” He pulls the word out of thin air and I feel my chest expand in surprise.
“You want me to propose to Callie? She’s only eighteen, Saturnus. I’ve only known her five months. People usually wait years now. It’s not like it was before.” I feel as though he needs a book dictating my relationship history to him. It’s like he lives in some kind of fantasy world.
“Women don’t care about that Orion. She’s expecting it from you. She told me so herself. I’ve heard her talking about it with the other mermaids too,” he reveals and I recoil slightly. Callie wants me to propose? My heart palpitates. I love her so much. Could it be she wants to make it legal so soon?
“You did?” I cock my eyebrow, hope pooling in my stomach slightly as fear clutches at my heart. I wonder if it’s normal to be excited and terrified all at once.
“Yes.” He looks me straight in the eye and I nod slightly.
“Well then. I suppose I better find a ring.” I look at him and rub the back of my neck awkwardly. He beams proudly.
“Your father would be so proud, Orion. He would want to be here to see this,” he says clasping at my shoulder with a comforting smile.
I think back to this conversation and look down at the platinum band that is nuzzled in icy blue velvet. The centre diamond is a Princess cut, my nickname for her resounding through each of the fractal surfaces that sparkle. The icy blue pearls have been retrieved from the oyster fields of my people, a twin set, lucky some would say, and the aquamarines I had chosen as they reminded me of her eyes. I look down at the band for a long time until its design and pattern lose meaning. I was going to get it inscribed- but there isn’t a sentiment to express my feeling that would be short enough. I get to my feet and pull out my phone. I put the ring back into my robe and dial the oh-so familiar number. She answers on the first ring.
“Georgia,” I snap.
“Yes, Mr Fischer.” I can hear the liquidity of her tongue through the crackles and pops of the line. The service isn’t good, but what do I expect, I’m inside a cliff.
“I’m leaving this ring in our walk in closet in my robe pocket. You’ll take it to the Lunar Sanctum and hang the robe in my closet, understood?” I’m barking orders like a drill sergeant these days, but today I’m not in the mood to soften for her. She probably hasn’t even noticed, too transfixed by the idea of me to care.
“Yes, Mr Fischer. I’ll come at sunrise.”
“Good.” I hang up the phone bluntly and run my fingers through my tousles. I hang the robe up again, feeling the weight of it, and walk from the closet.
CALLIE
I stir from the depths of forced sleep. My hands reach out, gliding over the sheets, searching for him.
“Orion?” I murmur looking around me. He’s gone. He usually waits until I’m awake before leaving. I wonder if maybe watching me sleep reminds him of how I looked when I was in my mystical coma. Technically dead.
“Yes?” I hear him before I see him as he exits the left wall.
“Where did you go?” I ask, pushing myself back and kneeling up, wrapping the sheets around me like the petals of a rose.
“Just checking out the closet,” he murmurs. He’s wearing jeans and a white shirt now.
“Closet?” My ears prick at the word.
“Want to come see?” He asks and I nod. I move off the mattress, gliding forward, pulling the sheets around me tighter at the front but letting them hang loosely down my back. They reach just above my buttocks, low enough to reveal the ribbon tattoo Orion is fond of. I move over to him and he walks me through the sliding panel in the rock face and turns a quick right. The closet is long and narrow but expansive. A red chaise longue sits propped in front of a dressing table and tall mirror. I move toward it and sit. Orion’s eyes blaze.
“What?” I query nervously. He looks like he might take me right here. His mouth contorts.
“Nothing.” He replies as I stand and kiss his cheek, distracting him from whatever images are running through his mind.
“Thank you for this. Everything. It’s beautiful.”
“Would you like to see the rest?” He asks.
“Can I get dressed first?” I ask him, eyeing the racks of untouched clothes still in transparent dry cleaning bags.
“Sure.” He leaves the room quickly. Like he can’t stand my proximity all of a sudden. I sit back into the chaise longue again, letting the curve of the seat hug my spine. I wonder what Orion’s problem is. He’s switching between two personas. The first is fevered with a passion unlike anything I have ever seen within him before. The second is as cold as the ice blue of his eyes. I stand to dress, deep in thought, trying to discern how he must be feeling. I know his father’s death has affected him, but this runs deeper. Is it something to do with me? I wonder this to myself as I run my fingertips down the long rack of clothes. Silks, velvet, and satin prickle the pads of my fingers and I hesitantly pick out a floor length silk night gown. Orion really likes me in these, he relishes pulling the skirt up to my waist I remember, noting that he hasn’t actually ever provided me with any night gowns that come above the knee. The sheets I leave discarded in a pool on the floor as I brush past them. I step out into the bedroom and Orion takes my hand, admiring my plunging neckline appreciatively. I say nothing but he eyes me hungrily once more as he leads me from the room, to continue the tour of the rest of the house which he has built for us.
We stand in the kitchen together, leaning against the white graphite of the kitchen island. I’m chopping bacon, preparing to make Orion my famous mac n cheese and bacon. He’s got his hand on my belly, arms around me, his fingers interlock over my navel with his head on my shoulder. He kisses the side of my neck, fingering my curls.
“I’m trying to cook,” I comment and he laughs huskily.
“I can see that.”
“Well then you should know I’m not great at multitasking,” I comment.
“I am,” he whispers into my neck.
“Please, Orion. I’m hungry,” I whine at him.
“Me too.”
“I meant for food.”
“I didn’t.” I can’t see his face but I feel the lions smile spread across his lips as they pull back, baring his teeth. He sucks at the flesh of my neck.
“Look… Orion….” I try to worm out of his arms.
“Stop wriggling. I can’t devour you if you wriggle.”
“I don’t want you to devour me,” I pant, finding his arms immovable as stone. I feel something dig in at my back.
My mouth pops open.
“Please tell me that you are poking me in the back with a rolling pin.” I turn back over my shoulder and he flips me, using my change in weight to leverage me, trapping me between his body and the counter.
“Nope. You don’t need a rolling pin for mac’n’cheese.” He purrs, kissing me.
“Orion! Stop!” I squeal. I really am hungry. I really don’t want to placate him with sex and if I were a normal woman I’d be putting up a stronger front of defence. As it stands if I don’t let him take me now he won’t have his hands on me for potentially another month and I just can’t stand that thought. He growls, a deep sound escaping him desperately and in one flail swoop knocks the knife, chopping board, and meat to the floor with a clatter. Holy crap. I think to myself as he starts to kiss me. This is getting out of hand. He leans me back over the white granite, holding me to him and lifting my ass so it tops the counter. He pulls up my skirt with two hands, predictably sliding them over my legs as he climbs in a graceful leg motion on top of me. I could push him back. Reject him. Tell him we need to talk. But we can talk tomorrow. We can talk after the sun rises. For now I let my denial overtake me once more, let it roll over me in a sensuous wave of momentum. I let Orion make love to me on the kitchen counter. Then on the floor. The icy blue sofas. On the rug next to the fire place which burns lavender. I lose track of time and before I know it I am truly and utterly lost in the ever present rose-tinted haze of his glacial blue and burning gaze.
Sometime later we descend into the depths of the house. I am naked and so is Orion, but it matters little as the sun is rising and we know what we must do. I slip from the chocolate stone steps into the pool beneath the bridge that leads to the master suite. Orion follows in after me as I turn to look back at him. He gets a guilty look on his face.
The Kiss That Saved Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 2) Page 3
