by Hall, Linsey
“I’ll make you forget every man before me,” he said, his voice fierce, as he lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder.
Her fingers tightened reflexively in his hair as he bent his head back to her sex. She jerked at the feeling of his tongue on her clitoris.
“This. I’ve never—” She broke off, unable to continue, yet wanting to tell him that for her, this was more than just physical.
Warren groaned against her soft flesh, his hands tightening reflexively on her hips. That she’d let him, when she’d let no other? He stroked his tongue over her sex, savoring her taste, one that only he knew. No other would.
Determined to make sure she wouldn’t regret her decision, he laved the tight little bud of nerves that was the center of her pleasure. She’d begun to pant, sharp cries escaping her throat as he sucked on her clitoris.
He never wanted this to end, but he’d lose control long before. Though he wanted to yank his trousers off and thrust himself inside her until she screamed his name at her orgasm, she was too delicate from her injury. This would have to be enough.
And it was. More than. With her swollen flesh beneath his mouth and her ass gripped tightly in his palms, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
Wanting to taste more of her, he thrust his tongue into her tight entrance. She cried out, the sound making his cock jerk against the confines of his trousers.
“You’ll come for me, lassie,” he said against her pussy. She moaned in response, arching her hips against his mouth.
“Warren.” She gasped. “I want you—” She cried out when he sucked gently on her clitoris. “—inside me!”
He groaned. His cock ached for it, throbbing for want of her. But this wasn’t about him. And she felt so damn good against his mouth that there was no loss.
He stroked her entrance with his fingertips, the feel of her a drug against the sensitive tips. Gently, he pushed a finger inside of her.
“So… perfect.” He groaned as her flesh clasped him. She rocked against him, her hands tightening deliciously in his hair.
“Warren!” Her voice was breathless, caught on a tide of need. She was close, so close, and he wanted to feel her pleasure.
“Aye, lassie. I know what you need,” he said against her flesh. He added another finger and fucked her with them, marveling at the silken wetness of her. She’d grip his shaft so perfectly, her wet heat clenching around him until his seed burst from him. The mere thought had him bucking his hips, desperate for release.
Control it. This was about her.
Her thighs trembled as her orgasm approached. He reached up to support her, pressing a hand against her chest. He could sense the need building within her, coiling and tightening as it was within him. She was close, he knew it as well as he knew how much she needed it. How much he needed it.
He needed to feel the orgasm wash over her. The one that he gave her.
“You’re going to come for me, lassie, so hard you’ll forget your own name.”
She cried out when his mouth closed over her pussy again, his tongue stroking her clitoris. He glanced up, mouth still on her, to see her lithe form arch off the wall as she clenched around his fingers.
The sight of her, the feel of her, the closeness, tore the orgasm from him, so hard and shocking that his mind went blank. He dropped his head and shuddered at her feet as a vortex of pleasure racked him, so unexpected, so perfect.
When his body calmed, and hers did too, he sat back gasping, staring at his knees. He’d lost himself in her, grown too close. Dangerously so. Terrifyingly so. He’d thought he could play this game, that he could give her pleasure and hold himself back. How wrong he’d been. He’d been so damn close to breaking his vow of celibacy—and hadn’t cared at all.
He surged to his feet. Panic clawed at him, made him back away from Esha. On the wave of panic came a bout of nausea so fierce that he felt his face twist, and his knees almost buckled. His muscles spasmed.
Damn Aurora.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Esha sagged against the wall, her breath heaving in and out of her lungs. That had been amazing. Warren had been amazing. After everything he’d said to her, he actually liked her enough to…
She caught sight of his face. He’d backed away from her and stood in the center of the room, wearing a look of such disgust that it hit her in the gut like a fist. He looked at her as though she held a cobra.
No, as though she was the cobra. What they’d just done made her soul feel raw and open and defenseless. As though all her protective layers had been peeled back.
And now this? He felt regret so soon? It scraped at the tender, newly revealed parts of her soul.
Idiot. I am such an idiot.
With painful precision, Esha straightened against the wall. It felt as delicate as her heart, as if one wrong move would shatter both to pieces and the house would crumble around her.
“Get out,” she said, horrified to hear her voice break on the last word.
How had everything gone from wonderful to horrifying in the space of an instant? He could be with her until he remembered what she was. And that hurt more than it ever had before.
“Out!” She gestured to the door, which swung open with a bang. She couldn’t bear to look at him right now, but more than that, anger with herself seethed beneath her skin like a living thing. She was falling for him, and this was the obvious consequence. She’d been such an idiot. No longer.
“No.” Warren’s voice was as hard as granite.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, I’m no’ leaving. I—”
“Yes, you are. Do you think me so spineless that I’d want to be near you when you look at me like I’m a monster? After… after…”
She couldn’t believe he wanted to talk. Now? He’d just had his mouth on her, making her feel things she’d never felt before. Then, that look. The one that defined her life, that told her where she fit in his estimation and everyone else’s. It tore at her heart like little claws made of glass shards, and reminded her how desperate and stupid she’d been.
She didn’t blame him for how he felt—how could she? Everyone else felt that way. She should expect it. But she’d been stupid enough to fall for him anyway, to let something like that happen. She was just going to get hurt again. Like with Brian.
To make matters worse, his expression had now changed from blank to almost caring, as though he could see through her to the writhing mess of insecurity and pain beneath her facade. Like he gave a damn how she felt. It was all so quick, her head almost spun with the changes that flashed across his face.
Her eyes burned for how pathetic she’d been, immediately accepting the affection he offered at the expense of her own pride. It was all she had. Now she stood before him, about to cry, with her pants at her feet.
The idea so horrified her that she flung her arm out and commanded, “Go!”
The force of her power propelled him backward, out the door and into the hallway. The look of shock on his face as the door slammed in front of him only made her angrier at them both. If he couldn’t accept her when she was bared before him, as vulnerable and powerless as she’d ever be, then he’d never be able to accept her when she was at her strongest, and to him, most horrifying.
Warren stared at the door that had slammed in his face, the sight of Esha burned into his retinas. She’d glowed with power, her amber eyes an eerie beacon shining with rage and pain while her onyx hair floated about her head. She hadn’t seemed aware of her body’s changes—or she hadn’t cared.
Neither did he. What once would have disgusted him—because gods, she’d looked like Aurora in her anger all those years ago—no longer bothered him.
He was an arse. Panic had made him flee from her, push back from her as though she were poison. He was losing control of himself, giving in to his baser instincts and chucking his celibacy out the window. It freaked him the hell out. He knew what she’d seen in his face: panic and regret. T
hen came the wave of sickness that even now twisted his guts into a mess. Gods knew what she’d seen on his face when that had come.
The medicine was becoming less and less effective. Soon, he’d have to take three pills a day. The witches had been wrong. He had less time than they predicted and it was fucking things up even more. With a disgusted sigh, he shoved a hand through his hair, then clenched his fists and barely resisted punching the wall.
Being with her like that had stripped him bare, forced him to examine himself and his actions. He found himself wanting.
But he had enough problems without adding Esha to the mix. She was damned complicated. And she made his already complex and insane life only more so. His celibacy and rigid lifestyle had kept his demons at bay. And it was becoming all the more apparent that she was the key to his Pandora’s box.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next morning, Esha cracked open her eyes to the sight of her pants crumpled on the floor. She dragged a hand across her face and groaned. She’d been so anxious to get out of them last night, yet here they were today, reminding her of what an idiot she’d been.
She could actually feel her cheeks burn. Freaking embarrassing. Not her behavior last night—pathetic is what that had been—but the fact that she was embarrassed this morning. Esha Connor didn’t do regret or embarrassment. Enough people didn’t like her. She wasn’t about to start not liking herself.
Make a bad decision? Move forward and don’t think about it.
A desire to pretend that everything was normal had her rolling out of bed to search for Warren. Whether or not she actually wanted to see him was a moot point. They had a job to do, and now, more than ever, she wanted to find Aurora.
The Chairman meowed from his spot at the foot of the bed, clearly annoyed by the jostling. He obviously thought that the huge, regal bed suited him.
“Oh, get up, lazy-butt,” she said, and walked to the window. She stood there for a moment, absorbing the stunning view of the ocean that crashed into the cliff below the house, hoping as she did that she could absorb some of its immutable strength. If only she could be like the ocean. Constant. Unaffected by change, unable to be hurt.
She frowned. Even the ocean could be hurt. If the ocean wasn’t impervious, how could she be?
Esha blew out a disappointed breath and headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she found her duffel bag in the corner where she’d put it when she’d first arrived. As she fished out a new pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she realized that her leather jacket had been destroyed by the claw.
A pang shot through her. Her jacket was like her armor. Without it, she felt naked. If she hadn’t used up her last little bit of power on Warren last night, she could conjure a new one. As it was, she couldn’t produce a hair tie.
She heaved a sigh and dragged her T-shirt over her head. No doubt she’d have to find some abandoned eighties windbreaker in a closet of this house and wear that. What a shitty way to face Warren—in some teal-and-yellow monstrosity.
Her snort of laughter was cut off by the sight of a beam of sunlight shining upon the chair near the window.
A honey-brown leather jacket was draped over it. She frowned and walked over. When she lifted the soft leather and turned it around, she saw that the claw marks in the back had been sewn together.
Inexpertly, for sure, but by someone who had tried.
She swallowed hard as her mind reeled. Warren had done this. But why?
Gingerly, she put it on and sighed at the warm clasp of comfort. But all the comfort in the world couldn’t push aside the doubt that crept into her mind.
Warren had mended her jacket. That didn’t jive with what she thought she’d seen on his face last night. Had she overreacted?
No. Of course not.
The Chairman meowed, low and deep. He couldn’t read her mind, but damn it, whatever he was saying sounded a hell of a lot like you’re a spazzy idiot.
She kicked the chair leg, then winced at the sting. She just wasn’t used to this kind of thing! One-night stands were her game. Dealing with Warren was a whole different matter.
And they had to work together.
She had no idea what she was going to do when she saw him, but better to get it over with. She was grateful to see the Chairman at her heels. He’d like to stay in the big bed all day, but he probably wanted to keep an eye on her more, so she didn’t make a fool of herself.
“Good luck, pal,” she whispered. “But thanks.”
On her way down the stairs, she gave herself a pep talk about how their interactions were going to go from here on out. Professional. Courteous. Reserved. She was going to act like a totally normal Mythean.
Together, they would find Aurora, Esha would keep Warren from killing her, she’d learn more about her past, then figure it out from there. Away from Warren, because she obviously couldn’t be trusted around him.
Bright sunlight sparkled through the foyer windows, tempting her with freedom. A short walk wouldn’t hurt, and Warren was as likely to be outside as in.
“Outside it is, Chairman,” she said to the cat who trotted at her heels. She wasn’t avoiding Warren, since she might find him out there. And she needed to stretch her muscles.
As soon as she stepped out into the brisk Highland air, she was grateful for her jacket. The gift. But she wouldn’t think of that. A quick yank of the zipper closed out the biting wind.
The rolling mountains at her back kept her company while the sea shone before her. The Chairman chased bugs in the grass. Though the house sat on a small cliff with no beach that she could see, she could hear the waves crashing on the rocks below.
Within a few minutes of her glorious walk, she sighed. She was totally avoiding seeing Warren. “Damn it, Chairman. Let’s head inside.”
After a quick stop in the kitchen for a granola bar for her and chicken for the Chairman, she said, “Okay, now we’re going to go look.”
The Chairman followed her out of the kitchen, still licking his lips from the chicken and the last bite of her granola bar. Weirdo cat.
She’d searched through a half dozen rooms on the first floor of the big house when she finally pulled up short at the door of the workout room. She stopped dead in her tracks and her heart stuttered its last. At least, it felt like it.
Within, Warren was beating the hell out of a punching bag in the corner, viciousness in every strike. Sweat dampened the back of his gray T-shirt, making it cling to the curves and planes of his muscles. He looked like a damned sex buffet.
She closed her eyes and told herself that she didn’t care at all. This was work and that was what she would focus on.
With a bracing breath, she opened her eyes and strode forward. Warren turned to face her. His broad chest rose and fell with his heaving breaths and his golden hair was mussed.
“I thought you didn’t fight,” she said.
Warren looked down at his hands, flexing them. “No’ to kill. But I do fight.” Myself, the things I’ve done, the past I try to outrun. “There’s violence in me, always has been. It’s better if I get it out. When there aren’t people around.”
“Oh.” She looked away.
“You’re feeling better.”
“I am.”
“Have you had breakfast?”
“Yes. I want to see the letter.”
Warren nodded, not surprised that she’d want to get to the point. “It’s in the library. I’ll get it.”
She followed him out of the room, and as Warren strode along next to her, the clean scent of her caught in his lungs and arrested his thoughts. He hadn’t expected to see her so soon, and when he’d caught sight of her standing in the doorway, his brain had overloaded with a dozen thoughts.
Memories of the taste of her, of her cries of pleasure echoing in his ears. The rage in her eyes as she propelled him out the door, the hurt that had edged in at the corners. The past days of working with her and realizing her cleverness and bravery. His confusion over what she wanted from
him. Why she had ever wanted him.
“I’ll need to go somewhere populated with Mytheans to restore my power,” she said as they walked down the hall.
“All right. There’s a gathering of Mytheans near Loch Buie. A Mythean Highland Games, run by a local laird. It’s being held on his land today and tomorrow.”
“How do you know that?”
Because when he’d woken up this morning, he’d thought of her needing more power. Something that had bothered him before had become a priority. “I knew you’d need a boost.”
“So that I can find Aurora for you.” Her voice had a glass-sharp edge.
“No, for you.”
“Sure. Let’s go get the letter.”
Moments later, they walked into the big, book-filled room that served as the library. Warren had spent many an hour here over the last three centuries, poring through Cadan’s ancient collection. Most older Mytheans read a lot.
With a deep breath, he withdrew the letter from a secret compartment in the bottom drawer of Cadan’s desk. Esha snatched the letter from him as soon as she saw it. She turned from him and walked toward the window.
“Hey,” he said, following.
“My letter, Warren.” She raised it. “See? My name on the front.”
He nodded. He’d know the contents soon enough.
With her full lip bitten between her teeth, Esha squinted as she carefully peeled open the letter’s seal. The envelope fluttered to the floor as she opened the folded slip of paper. Her brows drew together as she read.
“What is it?” The tension was killing him, a boa constrictor that wrapped around his chest. As much as Esha could be the best kind of distraction, Aurora’s threat hung over his head like a guillotine’s blade. Time was running out, and Aurora had proved that she had the strength and the stone heart to make him truly suffer.
“Oh shit,” Esha breathed. “She wants us to go to Iceland.”
“What the hell? Why there?”
She turned to face him, surprise raising her brows. “There’s an abandoned soulceress settlement. I didn’t think it still existed, but I guess it does. Soulceresses used to live there before the Vikings came. All I know is that the ancients built a city as far from other Mytheans as they could get so they knew they would be safe. When they needed a power boost, they’d simply aetherwalk to a Mythean settlement, juice up, then return home. But when the Vikings came in the ninth century, they eventually had to leave. I guess the settlement is still there, probably hidden from mortal eyes by magic. But it makes sense that she would hide out there. She said she’s in the temple.”
