The Last Unforgiven: Cursed

by Marina Simcoe

  Her request surprised him, but he obeyed, sliding his fingers under the leather of his belt.

  “Keep them there,” she whispered, leaning in.

  Her warm, fresh breath fanned across his face, making his skin tingle with an unknown sensation. Then her lips brushed by his, and his heart all but stopped.

  He didn’t need to read her emotions to sense her hesitation. Her caress was barely there, not much stronger than the brush of a butterfly wing. But that slight contact shook him to his very core.

  Until now, all he ever focused on was how his touch affected the emotions of the woman he fed off. Never before during a feeding had he thought about how being with her affected him. Olyena’s kiss flooded him with sensations all of his own.

  “Did I do it wrong?” Her voice filtered through the sweet dizziness enveloping him head to toe.

  “There is nothing wrong with anything you do . . .” he rasped.

  He realized he had disobeyed her order and removed his hands from under his belt only when he wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her closer. She didn’t seem to mind though, leaning into his body, too.

  “Kiss me, Raim,” she begged against his mouth. “Kiss me like you said you would.”

  A groan vibrated through his whole being when he took her mouth with his. Sucking on that plump, soft bottom lip that had invaded his thoughts, he let himself get lost in her taste. Inside and out.

  Her arousal flooded him, awakening every nerve in his body. The whole world seemed to fall out of existence as he sank deeper and deeper into the tantalizing cloud of Olyena’s emotions. He was skimming and taking at random, greedily drinking as much as he could, mindful only of staying away from her life force at all cost.

  With a soft moan, she pressed herself to him, raking her fingers through his hair. The elusive red streak pulsed inside her, and he zoomed in on it, longing for it to grow. Sliding his hands up her sides, he cupped her nape with one, searching with the other for the way under her coat.

  She broke the kiss off suddenly, but didn’t pull away completely. Moving her hands to his shoulders, she leaned her forehead to his, breathing hard.

  “That was . . . intense, Raim.”

  Concerned, he scanned her emotions hurriedly. They were a tangled mess, but a beautiful one. Excitement, curiosity, and joy—all intertwined with that thin but bright red ribbon of lust. The faint, silver shadow of trepidation was what must have made her break the kiss, he guessed.

  “I—I just need to catch my breath,” she panted. “Being with you brings so many feelings at once.”

  That was exactly how he felt about her.

  “Let’s go make that stew then?” He kissed the side of her face. “We’ll have plenty of time later.”

  Only how much time was he actually planning to stay in these woods with her?

  Rising to his feet, Raim helped Olyena up, banishing the annoying question away to some dark abyss deep in his mind.

  Chapter 12

  TOGETHER, THEY MOVED the chickens to the newly-constructed coup, then cleaned the rabbit that Olyena had trapped. Afterwards, she swept the floors in the cabin and made dinner.

  She had left the wooden shutters open on the glassless window, and the fresh spring air mingled with the pleasant warm smell of the stew on the stove. Raim saw her contentment again, skimming it constantly.

  After she finished eating her dinner and did the dishes, she sat at the table across from him, with a spoonful of honey for dessert.

  “Where exactly did you come from, Raim?” Olyena asked unexpectedly. “Where will you go once you leave here?”

  Leave.

  It took him a moment to focus on the word enough to fully grasp its meaning. Being here with her, he didn’t want to think about any other place out there at all.

  “Um, I’ll be going South. To join the rest of my kind at our Base in the Empire. That’s where we live.”

  “You’re not really a forest spirit then, right?” She took some honey from the spoon, and he watched her pink tongue dart to lick it off her lips. “What are you?”

  “I am an Incubus.”

  “Incubus? What is that?”

  “A demon.”

  She nodded thoughtfully, not demanding a more detailed explanation.

  “There are all possible kinds of beings in this world,” she said. “My mother is a water nymph now—a rusalka. I talk to her whenever I go to the river.”

  Raim had never met anyone other than humans and demons in this world. To his knowledge, there wasn’t anyone else. But who was to say that for sure? In any case, Olyena’s beliefs helped her accept him for what he was—someone other than herself—and he felt grateful for that.

  “Your injuries are healing well,” she observed, her emotions dimmed inside her somewhat. “When are you planning on leaving?”

  Her question brought his thoughts back to leaving again. And again, he didn’t feel like thinking or talking about it.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Truthfully, there was nothing that held him here at this point. He could see perfectly fine now, although still only from one eye. Thanks to Olyena, he had enough energy to make it to the next village on his way to the Empire and his Base. He didn’t even need to feel any guilt about leaving her—she had enough food for now, and he would leave her all his remaining gold that she could trade in at the summer market for years to come.

  Yet, the thought of parting with Olyena brought up only unpleasant emotions in him. Even the prospect of the Grand Master position no longer seemed that appealing. Why go through the trouble of taking over the humans and filling the Base with them if he could be this easily satisfied simply by being with one of them?

  “You are welcome to stay for as long as you want,” she offered. “I like having you here. It feels safe with you.” She put the spoon down, keeping her eyes on it. “Would you . . . um, like to feed now, too?”

  “Me?”

  It took him a moment to realize she was not referring to the honey or the stew. The tender pink of expectation fluttered inside her like a silk scarf in the wind.

  “I mean if that kiss was any good for you . . .” she trailed off for a moment before finishing in a single rushed breath, “I would not be against another one like that.”

  Understanding spread like warm melted butter through his insides. Leaning back, he draped his arm over the back of his chair, restraining himself from pouncing on her too hard in his eagerness.

  “A kiss?”

  “Mmhm.” She nodded quickly, keeping her eyes on her hands. A delicate blush glowing on her cheeks made him want to kiss her entire face, without delay, but he lingered, denying himself the immediate pleasure.

  “What if I end up doing more than kissing?”

  “You might?” She shot her gaze up to his. “Like what?”

  The trepidation in her had a very strong tint of excited anticipation, so he continued. “I want to touch more of you.” He got off his chair and stepped around the table to her.

  “More?” she whispered, getting up, too. His chest was at her eye level now, and that was where she stared.

  “I want to see more of your body, too.” He forced his hands to remain at his sides, waiting for just the right moment. “Naked.”

  “You want me to . . . undress?” A sharp spike of alarm shot through her.

  “Or let me undress you,” he said quickly, making his voice sound soft and soothing, enthralling, not threatening. “Which one would you prefer?”

  Thankfully, the needle of panic inside her melted into nothing once he had given her the choice. The flare of excitement sparked brighter.

  Her gaze still somewhere in the area of his chest, she slowly lifted her hands. With trembling fingers, she untied the rope she used for a belt. The ends of the long wool vest she wore over her linen tunic fell open. Slowly, so very slowly, she slid the vest off her shoulders and dropped it on the chair behind her, without so much as a glance at where it fell.
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br />   “More?” Her whisper barely reached his ear.

  “Yes.” He fisted his hands, impatiently. The teasing wisps of her timid excitement served as an appetiser, wetting his craving for more.

  Her hands at her back, she untied the laces holding her skirt around her waist. The heavy material dropped to her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but the long linen shirt.

  The orange and burgundy of the dying sunset danced in her hair, along with the glow of the fire in the stove—all mixing with the warm colours of her emotions.

  “You do the rest,” she said softly, her voice a little more steady now.

  He didn’t need a clarification this time. Closing the distance between them, he fought the urge to rip the shirt off her. Instead, he lifted his hand to her face, stroking the side of it with his knuckles.

  She trembled at the contact, but didn’t move away.

  “Now the neck?” She guided him with her question.

  Brushing her hair aside, he caressed the side of her neck—his favourite spot on a woman. He loved the feeling of building anticipation that touching it brought. It always held the promise of more.

  Sliding his finger along the delicate column of her throat, he lifted her chin up, forcing her to face him. “How about a kiss now?”

  She parted her lips in reply, ready for him.

  He glided the tip of his tongue along her lip first, tasting the honey, then deepened the kiss, claiming her mouth exactly how he now knew she liked.

  She moaned when his tongue brushed by hers, a shimmering wave of anticipation rolling through her emotions along with a shudder running through her body.

  Moving his hands down her shoulders, he shoved the shirt off her. Wide and shapeless, it pooled around her feet at once, baring her for him.

  Her pale skin seemed even lighter in contrast with her black hair. Wrapped in the glow of the fire, she seemed so much more than a mere human to him. He might have fallen from Heaven, but she appeared to have so much more of the Divine at that moment.

  “Angel . . .” he whispered, untying the ribbon holding her braid. The silky strands sprang loose under his fingers, and he raked his hands through the heavy mass.

  Rising on her toes, she reached for another kiss, taking his mouth herself this time, and he surrendered to the feeling of absolute delight this gesture brought.

  He found her breast with his hand, the nipple already hard from the chill from the window.

  “Should I close the shutters now?” he asked, between kisses.

  “No.” She fisted her fingers into his tunic. “Don’t leave.”

  Arms around her waist, he walked her backwards towards the bed, all the while kissing her face.

  His control had slipped. Greed and hunger prevented him from executing each and every kiss as perfectly as he would have liked. She didn’t seem to mind, though, her body softened and slackened under his messy display of affection. Whatever apprehension had still lingered inside her had melted away.

  He kicked his boots off, but didn’t bother with the rest of his clothes as he lowered her onto the bed, getting in next to her. She lifted her arms over her head, stretching on the bedding, and he stroked the insides of her arms with his hands, watching the tiny sparks of pleasure twinkle in the wake of his touch.

  Kissing down her body, he savored the taste of her skin—an intoxicating cocktail when mixed with the tantalizing flavours of her emotions. Sucking on her nipple, he felt her rock her hips against his thigh, then saw the red flare inside her pulse brighter.

  Now.

  Gliding his hand down, he slid his finger between her legs, then swallowed her gasp of alarm with another kiss. She stilled for a moment when he found the spot that made women moan and writhe when he rubbed it in their dreams. But this was the first time he ever physically touched a woman this intimately in real life.

  The sharp spike of crimson passion inside Olyena when he pressed on that spot with the pad of his thumb tasted like nothing he had ever fed on before. Sweet, just like the honey of her kiss, and so filling, he almost believed his hunger could be satisfied for once.

  “More,” she panted, lifting her hips to meet his hand. “Oh yes, right there . . . more please.”

  Moving over her, he slid his finger inside her, then spread the sleek warmth seeping out between her folds, rubbing harder where she wanted him to.

  Her moans grew louder, her breathing came out in bursts of air until he sensed the very moment she came undone. He captured her mouth in a biting kiss, swallowing the screams of her bliss as she shuddered through her orgasm under him.

  The intense, heady satisfaction of her release flooded him from the inside. His arms shook, and he dropped at her side, moving his hand to cup the curve of her hip.

  She rolled to her side right away, gripping the tunic on his chest. Her eyes closed, she pressed her forehead between her hands.

  “What just happened, Raim . . .?” she whispered. “It couldn’t have been of this world.”

  “Oh, it very much was, my sweet.” He kissed the top of her head, pulling the cover over her flushed body to shield her from the evening chill. “Every feeling and emotion you just had came from you,” he assured her, adding, “This is one of the best things about this world, actually. If not the best one of all.”

  Chapter 13

  SPRING WAS GAINING strength, bringing more light and warmth with it. Raim’s days were filled with light, too. Lying in bed, waiting for the sun to rise each morning, he listened to the soft breathing of the sleeping Olyena at his side, wishing for nothing more.

  His plans and his ambitions had somehow moved to the background as he kept convincing himself there was still plenty of time to make it to the Base before the election.

  One day, he would get on his way. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week . . .

  Meanwhile, he stayed with her.

  Through the day, he helped Olyena with whatever chores needed to be done around the house. He went to the creek to fetch water with her, and deeper into the woods to set and empty the traps.

  At night, Raim learned the many delightful ways to play Olyena’s body to satisfy them both. The hunger that had been ruling his life had decreased to a faint shadow of itself by now. Some days, he hardly noticed it at all.

  About a week or two after the evening she first bared herself to him, he took his shirt off before going to bed. With the nights getting warmer, the layer of clothing made him uncomfortably warm lately.

  “I’ve noticed this before, when I treated your wounds.” Olyena fingered the leather cord around his neck. “And later when you cut the wood. Where did you get it?”

  “My amulet?” He slid his fingers down the cord to the polished, teardrop shaped stone on it. “I had it carved from a cross a monk once used to try banishing a demon out of me.” He chuckled. “That didn’t work of course, he didn’t know that the demon was me. I sent him running but kept the cross as a souvenir.”

  “Is it on fire?” Propped on an elbow, she touched the stone lightly. “It’s glowing.”

  Lying on his side next to her, he traced the worried wrinkle on her forehead, wishing it would go away, along with any shadow of concern inside her. “It’s because of me. The cross was carved from soros stone. Monks use it to find us. The stone came from the same world I did, and it glows when one of our kind is near.”

  “Why do you wear it? It gives you away.” She gazed at him, inquisitively.

  “It reminds me of who I am.”

  “But it tells those who hunt you who you are, too.”

  “I’m not afraid of them.” He flexed his fingers, inclosing the amulet into his fist.

  “You’re not afraid of anyone and anything,” she stated, confidently.

  “Well, there are some things . . .”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to stop talking now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I really want to kiss you,” he murmured, leaning in and doing just th
at.

  The readiness with which she met his kiss thrilled him. The timid insecurity of before was all but gone by now. After days of touching and kissing between them, Olyena’s confidence had grown. Sliding her palms up and down his skin, she explored his body the same way he had been exploring hers.

  Her caress created sensations in Raim he wasn’t sure how to deal with. It brought to the surface the echoes of her best emotions inside him, making him feel as if they were also his own. Pleasure spread through his chest in ripples, radiating through the rest of his body.

  Moaning against his mouth, Olyena arched her back, pressing herself against him. Her leg bent, she slid her thigh between his. Her hands travelling down his back and slipping under the waistband of his pants, she cupped his backside to draw him closer to her.

  Heat ran up the insides of his thighs, pooling in his groin with a throbbing pressure that begged to be released.

  “What do you want me to do?” Olyena’s whisper fanned across his lips, swollen hot after their kiss. “What can I do to bring you pleasure?”

  Her hand inside his pants moved to the front. His body seemed to reach out to her of its own accord. The power of her pull shocked him.

  ‘You’re not afraid of anyone and anything.’

  Raim realized there was something that terrified him, after all—the amount of power this woman managed to acquire over him during the few short weeks they had spent together.

  Jerking back, away from her touch, he caught her hand by the wrist.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, and he could barely stand the grey that shaded her emotions.

  “Nothing, my sweet.” He kissed her forehead, her temple, the ridge of her cheekbone . . . Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed it too. “Nothing is wrong.”

  He trailed his kisses down her body, savoring the familiar taste of her skin and lust mixed into one.

  Shifting down along her body, he covered every inch of her with kisses until she writhed and moaned, wrapped into the crimson passion of her desire. “Remember? My lips are softer than my hand.”