“Karma?”
“Hey, I haven’t been a total recluse the last couple centuries.”
She still didn’t move. He could feel the discomfort in her muscles, in her mind. Peanut, bored with the position, started to pout.
The plea came in the barest of whispers. “Help me, Jace.”
He’d give her his soul if she needed it. Comparatively, putting his hands under hers and providing the muscle power to cuddle Peanut against her chest was a piece of cake.
As soon as the baby leaned against her chest, her breath released on a soft “Oh.”
“What?”
She shook her head. She cradled Peanut’s head in her palm and pressed her against her throat. She turned to face him. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, and the most poignant of smiles filled her expression. “It just feels so good.”
Emotion poured from her to him, waves of it, so many intertwined it was hard to sort them out, but when he did, the predominate ones were love and elation.
His heart twisted in his chest. “Yeah, it does.”
AN hour later, with the dawn creeping through the window and Peanut hopefully down for a good sleep, Jace sat on the edge of the bed and listened to Miri fuss in the bathroom. Moist air from her shower flowed out from under the door, redolent with the scents of wildflowers and rosemary. He loved the way she smelled. He leaned back against the headboard and enjoyed the intimacy of the moment and the satisfaction of knowing that the woman in the other room was his wife, that when he woke come nightfall, more than a memory would be beside him.
He closed his eyes. At last.
The water turned off. Jace imagined Miri standing on the other side of the door, hesitating, nervously licking her lips. The way she had their first time. He cracked his lids. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake this time that he’d made the last, though. Left too much to her own thinking, Miri could work herself up into a self-defeating lather.
The doorknob turned. Apparently Miri had learned some things, too.
He opened his eyes all the way. The door slowly opened, spilling yellow light into the shadows. He sat up, desire throbbing with the heavy beat of his heart. She stood, hands stroking down over the sheer material that barely covered her thighs. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.”
She didn’t move.
“Is there a problem?”
She licked her lips. “No.”
“I hear a ‘but.’” He swung his legs off the bed. She jumped. “You’ve been thinking, Miri.”
“Just a little.”
“Any angle in particular you’ve been playing?” When he got close enough, he held out his hand, palm up. She placed hers in it. So much smaller than his. So much more fragile—he rubbed his thumb across the back—yet possessing so much strength. He drew her to him with a slow motion, giving her time to resist. She didn’t. She just flowed into his embrace, waiting until he had her tightly in his arms before confessing.
“What if it’s not the same?”
He wrapped his hands in her damp hair, tugging her head back. “Baby, every time I’m with you is unique.”
Her gaze ducked his. “I’m no longer beautiful.”
He kissed the scar on her right cheek. “You really did have a long think.”
“It was a long shower.”
“It wasn’t that long.” He turned his attention to the scar on her left cheek, giving it the same special care.
“There has never been, nor ever will be, anything more beautiful in the world to me than this face.” He kissed her mouth, feeling it tremble. “Nothing that could sound more perfect than the sound of your voice.” He turned her around and toppled her onto the bed, coming down over her, catching his weight on his elbows. “And nothing that could feel better than this body against mine.”
Her arms came around his neck. “Are you sure?”
“Never been surer. And to prove it, I’m accepting your claim.”
“What claim?”
“The one you made downstairs.”
She blinked. “I was getting you out of trouble!”
“Uh-uh. You claimed me.” He slid his fingers up her arm, teasing her sensitive skin with his nails, not stopping until he reached her hands so he could weave his fingers between hers. “Maybe not according to pack policy and maybe not in any way that the pack could formalize, but you claimed me, and now you’re stuck with me.”
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair to you.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
“You should be. I’m still such a mess inside, Jace.”
She said it like it was a secret. He brought her right hand up around his neck. “But you’re my mess.”
He brought the left hand up next, pausing with his fingers on her wrist, and she said, “You should reject me.”
“Now, why would I want to do that? When you fit me so well?”
He pushed her hair off her face, stroking the back of his fingers over her cheek, marveling in the softness of her skin, feeling the ridge of the scar. Her lower lip slid between her teeth. He felt the brush of her energy and, just as immediately, its retreat. “Talk to me, Miri.”
“About what?”
“About the real worry you’re chewing on.”
“What if I’m not ready to talk?”
“You have to anyway. If you can’t find the words, then I’ll help you. And if you’re not ready, then you’ll tell me and we’ll work around it. What you can’t do is keep it all inside and hide, because this isn’t something from which either of us can walk away.”
She stared at him, the shadows in her eyes multiplying, all but obscuring the glimmer of hope that peeked between the swirling edges. Her fingers curled into fists beside her head. He placed his hands over hers, prying her fingers open one by one. The scent from the shampoo she’d used on her hair teased his senses—wildflowers and Miri. A combination indelibly etched in his mind. Miri naked and lying in the white moonlight, reaching for him with her mind and body, offering him the home he’d always sought, without fear.
“Remember our first time, princess?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even hesitate. You opened yourself to me so sweetly.”
He kissed her cheek, her nose, her lashes, smiling when they fluttered shut.
“You lay down amid the daisies and dandelions, accepted me flaws and all.”
“You have no flaws.”
“If you weren’t immortal, you’d have to worry about going to hell for that whopper. I’m far from perfect.”
“You were perfect for me.”
“You sure thought so, but the truth is, you had a lot more to fear from me then than you do now. Then, I was an unknown vampire lusting after your nubile young body.” The corner of her lips twitched. “I was intent on having my wicked way with you.”
“I remember.”
He unbuttoned the shimmery concoction that kept her breasts from him. “I intended for you to be fully debauched come morning.”
Her eyes opened. Her smile bloomed. That gorgeous smile that stole his soul the first time he saw it. “I was.”
He spread the material, exposing the sweet curves of her chest. “When I claimed you then, it was a forever thing for me.”
He slipped his hand beneath, watching her expression for fear. There wasn’t any.
She arched her breast into his palm, filling his hand with the promise she’d given him that first night. “I know.”
“No, you didn’t. You thought ‘forever’ for me was as long as I desired you, but I was willing to work with that, sweet-talk you around to believing in me.”
“But then you had to leave.”
“Temporarily. But to you that meant it was over. You thought I’d left. I’m sorry I didn’t understand that.” A brush of his lips over the ledge of her cheekbones. “Very sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“Good.”
“Jace?”
“What?”
“What’s different about now?”
“Ah, now.” He plumped her breast in his hand, admiring the generous soft mound it made beneath the silky nightgown, the way the darker tip made the smallest of tentings. It would take very little effort to dip his head and take that soft peak in his mouth, lave it with his tongue, nip it to that delicate hardness in the way that always made her moan in bliss.
He had to focus on what he wanted to say to get the words out. “Now you know there was never any danger at all. Now you know what kind of man I am, what kind of lover I am. You know I’m the sticking kind. And I’m safe.”
She blinked. “Safe?”
Her skepticism did wonders for his ego.
“Absolutely.”
She shifted and the gown pulled taut.
“Where’d you get this sexy little gown?”
“Allie.” She twisted under him, watching as his thumb passed over the tip. He’d forgotten how she liked to watch. The gap in his memory bothered him. What else had he forgotten? The neckline slid to the side, exposing her breast with its peach-colored tip. The nipple was semi hard, demanding his attention.
He leaned in. “I’ll have to thank her.”
Her head snapped up so fast, she almost cracked his jaw. “Don’t you dare!”
He chuckled as she flopped back onto the mattress. “I’m pretty sure she knew what would happen when you wore it.”
“I don’t care. Promise me you won’t say anything.”
Since he didn’t want her distracted by the worry, he promised.
Another twist exposed more buttery-smooth skin. Her breast shimmied; he accepted the invitation, bending his head, taking that sweet tip into his mouth. Her taste spread across his tongue. Soap and Miri. He closed his eyes, imprinting it anew into his senses, letting it sink to his center in a long-awaited flow of remembered pleasure. He’d been so long without her. Needed her so badly. “I love the way you taste.”
She arched her energy, weaving through his in an erotic temptation.
Jace.
Only Miri said his name like that, as if heaven was in his hands and she only waited for him to give it to her. He shifted up to see her face. Her eyes were filled with tears. “Hey, sweet talk isn’t supposed to make you cry.”
She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand and sniffed. “I think you’re out of luck.”
He stood, bringing her with him. Her legs went instinctively around his waist. He turned, sitting on the mattress. Letting her support herself with her arms around his neck while he stroked the damp trails on her cheeks. “Because that was too corny?”
She shook her head. Her hair swished across his thighs. He took a handful and draped it over his shoulders, binding them together, following the path back until he could curl his fingers around her nape.
“Because I blinked and you didn’t go away. You’re real.”
He felt the same way. The joy that she was here, the lingering panic that it was just another dream he’d wake up from, her name an echo of desperate hope in his head. He tilted her face to the side with a press of his thumb, skimming his lips over her cheek to the sweet spot behind her ear, the one that if he kissed it just right would send goose bumps up and down her arms. “Very real. Want me to show you how much?”
She canted her head away, providing him with easier access. “Yes.”
He was happy to oblige. Following the desire that moved hot and rich through his blood, he touched the spot with his tongue, her pleasure his as she shivered. He smiled against her skin. “It’s nice to know some things don’t change.”
Her hands cupped his head, holding him to her, offering herself to him. “Yes, it is.”
The passion he’d been fighting roared forward, ripping apart his control, wrecking havoc with his good intentions. He took a steadying breath. “Princess, saying things like that to me right now is hell on my control.”
Her tongue touched the corner of his mouth. Lightning bolts of sensation arced outward, shooting down his spine before gathering at the base in a hot aching urgency. “So who wants you controlled?”
“You do, because I want you too much to play games,” he rasped out.
“Who’s asking you to play games?”
“I’ve been a long time hungry and a long time hurting.”
He turned his head so the softness of her lips matched the firmness of his, so her breath blended with his, so her energy melded with his. “And the one thing I won’t ever be is the next thing that hurts you.”
“You can’t. Not you.”
She stroked her tongue over his. He shuddered, unable to control his response. He wanted that hot little tongue lapping all over his body. “I could lose my head, take you too roughly.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders, scooting up on her knees before pushing backward. “There’s only one way to find out.”
He took her weight gladly, thrusting up when she pressed down, anchoring her with his hands on her hips. “I was thinking along the lines of talking about it.”
“You said, if I wasn’t ready, we’d work around it.”
“I did say that. Do we need a work-around?”
She stretched her torso along his, took his earlobe between her teeth, and nipped. “Yes.”
His grip spasmed on her hips. She laughed at the loss of control, the soft expulsions fanning the fire racing across his skin.
“What do you suggest?” he asked when he could find his voice.
“I was hoping you’d make love to me.”
He rolled them so she was beneath him. A bit too quickly, if her momentary disorientation was anything to go by.
He smiled down at her. “Were you, now?”
Her palms flattened on his chest, her thumbs going to his nipples.
“I was thinking on it.”
Her gaze held his as she flicked them with her nails. His breath hissed in as his cock jerked in his pants. He studied her as she lay beneath him, the fine arch of her brows above the warm golden-brown of her eyes, the elegant line of her nose above the lush perfection of her lips, and that stubborn chin. He traced the lines of her cheekbones, enjoying the smoothness of her skin, so enhanced by the peaches and cream of her complexion. For him, there was nothing more perfect than the way her features came together in a boldly feminine way that combined incredible strength with incredible vulnerability. She was so damn beautiful.
He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss into her palm. He met her gaze. “Hold that thought.”
Her tongue ran over her lips. “What if I don’t want to?”
“You don’t have a choice.” He could feel the pain building inside her again, could feel the weakness in her caused by the imbalance of a mating not completed. “There is something we need to do first.”
“What’s that?”
He sliced his nail across his chest. Blood flowed, the scent rising between them. Her nostrils flared. So did her hunger. “You need to feed.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
She was far from fine. He captured a drop of blood on his fingertip and smeared it across her lips. “I can’t watch you suffer anymore, princess.” It was the closest he could come to an apology. Her pupils flared as the taste crept between the seal of her lips. “Besides, we have a long night ahead of us.” His gaze wandered to her breasts, with their hard nipples and creamy softness. “And you’re going to need to be at full strength if you plan on keeping up.”
Along night.
Identical words she’d heard in the past. The scary, dark memories buried within the syllables clawed their way out, battering at her control. She took a breath, held it for the count of three, and then let it out. This was Jace above her—strong, indomitable Jace with the laughing eyes, the quick temper, and the incredible touch. Jace, who inspired the hunger in her. A natural hunger, not the perverted imitation the Sanctuary had tried to manufacture in the hope it would help her to conceive.
His hand behind her head bro
ught her face to his chest. “You have to feed, Miri. You need to be strong.”
She took a breath, letting his scent sink deep. She wouldn’t let the memories rob her of him. Meeting his gaze, she gave him the smile—the one from so long ago, the one she’d practiced in the mirror when she would dream about a suitor who would one day bond with her. The smile she’d perfected to the point that it was sultry, hot, and biting. Guaranteed to blow his socks off.
Her reward was a blink of his gorgeous eyes, and then a slow smile.
“You have a snack, baby, and I’ll take you up on that invitation.” The tightening of his hold coincided with the lowering of his head. She couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were hazel, then blue, and then lit with fires that danced in patterns that intrigued. The brush of his lips was petal soft, the parting an open invitation to the passion beyond. She wanted that passion, wanted the secrets she read in his eyes, that she felt inside herself. She took his kiss, as he took her control, in slow increments, letting the surprise of it unravel in a slow, lazy persuasion. The familiar subtle adjustment of his fingers directed her mouth downward, over the column of his throat, across the ridge of his collarbone, and over the smooth flex of his muscle, replacing the taste of his kiss with the potent spice of his blood. Enthralled, she followed the mental lure, succumbing to the urge to drink, moaning aloud as her cells exploded with bliss as the life-giving fluid slid over her tongue.
Jace’s fingers stroked down her breast, readying her for his touch, making her wait for it until the anticipation had her moaning, his laugh breezing by her ear as she opened to him, mind, body, and soul, taking his passion as hers, giving her passion to him, weaving them together with desire. His name echoed in her mind, tumbled from her lips. “Jace.”
“Right here.”
“I need you,” she whispered against his chest, her blood hunger abating to be replaced by another. His fingers encompassed her breast, plumping it to his touch. His thumb flicked over the tip in a tiny culmination. She gasped against his chest, hot, breathless energy surging within her, searching for an outlet. “I need you.”
Jace Page 23
