by Nina Croft
Where the hell was he? She shifted restlessly, then got to her feet, tugging at the chains. Pointlessly, because she knew there was no escaping. She had tried often enough. Finally, when she thought she would explode from impatience, he reappeared, framed in the doorway.
“Where the hell have you been?”
He looked faintly startled at her vehemence. Then he smiled. “Missed me?”
She stared at him through narrowed eyes, and he gave a casual shrug. He carried a bundle that he threw onto the cot. Then he stalked toward her, the knife clasped in his hand. “Hold out your hands.”
She held out her wrists with their shackles. Placing the knife point to the lock of the first, he twisted, and the shackle fell open. He did the same to the second, and Raven finally stood free.
A wave of euphoria almost engulfed her. She swayed slightly, and he rested a hand on her arm to steady her. Staring into the blueness of his eyes, she reached out her own hand, running trembling fingers through the silky sunlight strands of his hair.
For the first time in years she stood free. Was it possible? Could this man save her after all? Raven didn’t know, but what she was certain of was that he would try.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
She made to step back, but his grip tightened on her shoulders and he dragged her against the hard length of his body. He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She tasted him, sensing the desperation in his touch. Then he put her firmly from him.
“My pleasure,” he murmured. “Now let’s get out of here.”
He picked up the bundle he had thrown on the cot and handed it to her. “Wrap yourself in this.”
Raven shook it out. It was a gray blanket. She lifted it to her face and sniffed.
“Don’t go all fussy on me,” he said. “That was all I could find. You need to cover yourself completely. We’ll be going into daylight.”
A tremor rippled through her. She knew what the light of the sun would do to her; Sorien had described it in infinite detail, relishing her fear. She glanced at the blanket; it seemed a fragile barrier to protect her life.
“You’ll be fine as long as the sunlight doesn’t touch you. I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.
She believed him. He would keep her safe as long as it was within his capabilities. But Raven could remember her father promising the same thing. She had known that he would give up his very life to protect her, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough. But what choice did she have? She draped the blanket around her shoulders. It was big enough to wrap around her body and cover her head.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked.
“We’re going to walk right through the castle.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
A smile curved his lips. Then, as she stared at him in disbelief, he vanished and before her stood Grieffen, the fire-demon. He was huge, his skin dark red, like burnt hide, his eyes cruel slits. Even his scent changed, and Raven shuddered at the dark, smoky smell. As he reached for her, she had to force herself not to step back from his touch as those vicious claws gently drew the blanket up over her head, plunging her into darkness. A low chuckle rang in her ears, and then she was lifted and slung over his shoulder as though she was weightless, his huge hand resting on the curve of her bottom.
“Well, my pretty,” she heard him murmur, his hand squeezing her buttock, “shall we go?”
She held herself frozen against him, quite unable to move. Logic told her that this really wasn’t a fire-demon, that Kael was under there somewhere, but logic didn’t have a lot to do with it. He felt like a fire-demon, he smelled like a fire-demon.
The journey seemed to go on forever. Even under the blanket, she kept her eyes tight shut. She gnawed on her lower lip, body tense as she waited for Kael to be stopped, questioned. The blanket would be ripped from her, exposing her to the deadly light of the sun. Sorien had told her that this was how he planned she would die when the time of the sacrifice arrived. Staked out on the altar in the great hall as the sun rose. Burnt from the outside in, until no more than a pile of cinders remained.
Think of other things.
Her dreams and visions of Kael…
She’d wanted him in those visions, now she finally admitted she wanted him still. She wasn’t ready to believe in that happy ending, but at least she would have the chance to experience something good before she died. And once the deed was done, the prophecy could no longer come to pass, and her worst fear could be laid to rest. She would make it happen. Her body tightened at the thought. Heat flooded her. She tried to tell herself that anyone would be hot draped across the shoulder of a fire-demon. But it didn’t help; she was burning, turning molten, melting.
Finally, a door slammed shut behind them, a bolt rammed across and she was lowered onto some sort of a chair.
“Stay covered for a moment,” he said.
She sat very still, listening as he moved about the room. After a few minutes he came back to her and tugged the blanket from her head. She blinked in the dim light then glanced up at him. He had changed back; it was once more Kael who stood before her, the loathed fire-demon banished. And her breath left her in a sigh of relief.
Kael had drawn the blinds down over the narrow windows, limiting the daylight to a dim glow; now he leaned across and switched on a lamp and she looked around. They were in a circular room lined with bookshelves. She was seated in a leather chair in front of a large wooden desk.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“At the top of the east tower in some sort of office, but it looks as though it hasn’t been used in a while,” Kael said. “We should be safe in here. Soon, they’ll be too busy worry about anything but keeping out the enemy.”
She turned back to him. Her eyes lingered on the broad shoulders, the wide chest, and the swell of muscle. As she watched, he slowly unbuckled the shoulder holster and shrugged out of it, dropping it carelessly on the desk. His eyes never left her as his hands moved to his waist, unbuckled the black leather belt that held the knife sheath and pulled it free, dropping it beside the gun. The faded jeans hung low on his hipbones; and she could see the bulge of his manhood, swollen, pressing against the soft material. He really did want her. Slowly, she licked her lips.
***
All the way up here, Kael had been mentally lecturing himself. Telling himself that this was just part of the job, trying to convince himself that sex with Raven was just something that had to be done, not something he was starting to crave with all of his being. But the feel of her so close, the swell of her bottom beneath his hand, the way she occasionally wriggled her body against him, the press of her soft breasts against his back, made that an impossibility.
The truth was, he wanted her with a desperation he hadn’t thought himself capable of. But he needed to stay in control. He couldn’t let her see the extent of his desire. She was already frightened, and who could blame her? After all, all she knew of sex was what she had witnessed in the great hall and that was no doubt enough to put anyone off.
But she wasn’t making it easy. Her eyes were fixed on his groin in what appeared to be fascination. He tried to tell himself it was only wishful thinking on his part, but his cock refused to listen. It twitched and pulsed inside his jeans. Then she licked her lower lip, and he almost groaned. He remembered the feel of her feeding from him, the sensual tug as she sucked his blood, and his cock pulsed again. What would it feel like if she fed while he was buried deep inside her?
She caught her lower lip with sharp-pointed teeth. A small bead of blood oozed crimson and she licked it away. This time he couldn’t restrain the groan, and her gaze darted to his face. Her eyes seemed to stare straight through him, into his very soul. She clearly didn’t like what she saw there, because a frown tugged down the corners of her mouth. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he muttered. Then he shook his head. “Hell, Raven. I’m trying to do the right thing here. I have to do this.
It’s something that needs to be done, but I don’t want to frighten you any more than I have to. Jesus.” He ran an unsteady hand through his hair.
She stared at him. “I’m not frightened.”
He studied her closely. No, she didn’t appear frightened. As he watched she shrugged out of the blanket, letting it pool around her waist. She was perfection—luminous skin, long slender limbs, her breasts full beneath the thin cotton. The ragged grasp he had on his control slipped a little further.
He took a step closer. “Perhaps you should be.”
***
Raven could see his fierce control in the way his fists clenched at his sides. His whole body pulsated with tension.
And she realized something. She didn’t want him in control. She wanted him wild. She wanted to release all the ferocious savagery she sensed lurking beneath the surface. She just didn’t know how. She knew he wanted her. The evidence was there right in front of her eyes, huge and swollen.
His eyes locked onto her, hooded, half-closed, a glittering, intense electric-blue, but still he didn’t move, and frustration clawed at her insides. Her own eyes narrowed and, holding his gaze, she trailed trembling fingertips down over the bulge in his jeans.
“What the hell...?” he growled.
He moved suddenly, his hand coming down on hers, covering it, pressing it hard against him. Beneath his hand, her fingers molded to his length and a tremor ran through his body. She squeezed, and his head fell back. His eyes closed. Then his hand tightened on hers and he dragged it away.
She stared at him. “Why?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I promised I wouldn’t hurt you, and you’re not making this easy.” Raven frowned, and he continued, “It’s been a long time for me. I want to make it good for you, but I’m afraid of losing control.”
A wild thrill ran through her at his words. “I want you to lose control.”
“What?”
But instead of answering she reached for him again, trailing a finger down over his chest, hooking it into the waistband of his jeans, and pulling him toward her. For a moment he resisted.
Then with a groan of defeat he gave in. Reaching down, he grasped the hem of his T shirt and tugged it over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raven released her hold on him and sat back, eyes wide. His hand went to his waist and she followed the movement, only her gaze moving as she sat perfectly still. He was almost painfully aroused now and he flicked open the button, pulled down the zip, almost moaned with relief. And still she didn’t move. He kicked off his boots and then dragged his jeans down and off.
Then he straightened to stand before her, naked.
Chapter Nine
Oh my God.
Raven had never seen anything quite so beautiful in her entire life. His body was perfect, lean but with the sleek ripple of muscle under golden skin. His erection arched away from his flat belly, thick and powerful. It twitched under her intense stare, and her mouth went dry. She tried to swallow, but the muscles in her throat constricted.
“Like what you see?”
At his question, her gaze darted to his. He was watching her watch him. She nodded mutely, and a look of fierce satisfaction flashed across his face.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” he murmured. “Come here.”
She rose slowly to her feet, her gaze never leaving his as his hands smoothed down her arms, sending shivers rippling through her. He tugged her tank top out of her jeans, then over her head in one smooth move. His gaze dropped, and she held her breath.
Did he like what he saw?
Her nipples tightened under his stare, as his hands moved to her waist, thumbs rubbing circles on her rib cage, sending tingles down her nerves. He unfastened her jeans, sliding his hands inside, pushing them down over her hips, and she wriggled out of them.
And she was as naked as he was.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
One finger trailed over her collar bone, then lower, cupping her breast, and pleasure streaked through her, settling low in her body. His hands shifted to her hips and he picked her up, settling her on the cool wood of the desk behind her.
He traced a finger along the mark above her left hip bone. It was black, stark against the paleness of her skin, and shaped like a bird, wings outstretched. Her father had told her it marked her as a daughter of the Morrigan. All the witches carried the birthmark.
Then he stroked the skin of her thighs, his long fingers slipping between to push them apart, so he could move closer. Heat radiated from his body, and she breathed in the hot scent of the sweat starting to gild his golden skin. His hands glided up her body, trailing fire over her belly and breasts before they finally rested in her hair. He tilted her face to him and then leaned down to kiss her, hungry, biting kisses, until she opened her mouth and his tongue thrust deep inside. He tasted hot and sweet, reminding her of the blood she had drunk days ago. The thought made her tremble.
He leaned back and stared down into her face.
“Tell me what you want.”
Frustration flashed through her. She didn’t know what she wanted; how could she? All she knew was she wanted it all.
“Everything,” she said. “I want everything.”
He laughed softly. Reaching behind her, he swept the desk clean, his gun and knife clattering to the floor. Then he pushed her gently, so she fell back against the hard wood.
“Let me show you how it can be.”
Leaning over her, arms braced on either side, he kissed her breasts, his tongue teasing her with lazy, wet circles until her back arched. She gasped as he bit down on her nipple, then drew it into his mouth, suckling so it tugged at places deep within her body, sharp bolts of pleasure shooting through her.
Her body shook. She wanted to touch him, stroke him, kiss him, but in this position, she couldn’t reach, and she writhed under his touch.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he crooned. “Just relax, take it slowly.”
Was he mad? “I can’t,” she muttered, gritting her teeth.
He straightened, stared down at her through hooded eyes then slowly splayed one hand over the soft flesh of her stomach, teasing the dark curls at the junction of her thighs, stopping just short of touching her where she needed it most. Then he smiled, a feral smile. “You’ve got no choice.”
Like hell she had no choice! It seemed as though all her life she hadn’t had a choice. Now she did, and she didn’t want it slow. She wanted him hard and fast and as out of control as she felt.
She lay before him, quiescent, staring up into the blueness of his eyes, her own narrowed while she considered her options.
Then she stretched sinuously beneath him. Reaching out, she twined her fingers in the soft fur of his abdomen, trailed them down lower until she teased him with her fingertips. She raised one long slender leg, wrapped it around him and pulled him to her so he was hard against her sex, and she moved erotically, grinding her hips against the length of him.
He groaned, and she purred in satisfaction. His hand moved between them, gliding down her body, between her thighs. He groaned again as his fingers slid into the hot slippery wetness, moving slowly over her swollen flesh, tingles shooting through her, stroking, gently probing, opening her. Poised above her, his erection pushed at the entrance to her body. His hands moved to clasp her hips, steadying her. Then he pushed inside, stretching her. He was huge, and she bit back a whimper of pain-tinged pleasure. Pausing, he stared down into her face, his own contorted with concentration.
“More?” he questioned.
She bucked her hips in response, and he lowered himself, filling her inch by inch until he was fully sheathed inside her.
Raven closed her eyes and allowed a wave of euphoria to wash over her. It was over; whatever else happened, Sorien could never use her now. Then Kael was moving inside her, and all thoughts of Sorien were washed away on a rising wave of pleasure. His movements held an edge of desperation that sent a thrill pulsating through her. She cou
ld sense his ragged control, the contained power of each thrust. She moaned in pleasure, and the sound released something inside him. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers biting into the soft flesh of her bottom, holding her as he increased the force of his thrusts, filling her to the core, grinding his body against her.
The whole world shrank until there was nothing but the sensation of him plunging inside her. Raven could feel something building and building, concentrating on that one spot between her thighs, but still the climax took her by surprise, exploding, a tidal wave of feeling that washed over her, pulling her under so she was drowning, fighting to keep the air in her lungs.
She threw back her head and opened her mouth to scream her release, and Kael covered her lips with his, swallowing her screams while his own body exploded deep within her. He lifted his head to stare down into her eyes. His hands came up to wrap around her throat, the pads of his thumbs caressing the fragile bones of her neck.
“Shall I kill you now, Raven? Do you still want to die?”
A bolt of shock ran through her as she remembered his promise.
“No,” she murmured. “I want to live.”
***
Kael held her limp and sated body in his arms as they cuddled together in the huge leather chair. She nuzzled his chest, her tongue stroking delicately across the flesh, licking the beads of sweat from his skin, and his grip tightened. She glanced up, her huge eyes luminous.
