Authors: Juliette Cross
“That’s what I forgot to tell you. Couldn’t admit. As soon as I sensed him, I couldn’t go on. I wanted out of my dumbass plan. I wanted to run, far away. I was a coward! Those girls. That thing. Oh, God!” A fit of crying overwhelmed me.
“Shhh. Stop now.”
His thumb brushed over the trail of my tears, a continuing caress as I tried to slow my panicked breathing. I pressed closer, not caring that I seemed weak, needing warmth and comfort to wipe away that horrific thing from my senses, needing to feel the strength and protection of his muscular body. Minutes passed while he soothed me with gentle hands, my nerves unwinding with each touch that slid over my hair and down my back. I inhaled and let out a jagged breath.
“You’re safe.” Something in his voice, an unexpected tenderness, called to me.
Prying myself from his shoulder, I examined the outline of his face by the dying embers in the hearth. I brushed my fingertips over the scar now hidden in shadow. His eyes glinted silver, sliding closed as I caressed him. Both of us sought comfort in the dark.
Heart pounding for a different reason, I let my fingers explore as I never would in the light of day—across his brow, along his granite jaw where a day’s stubble scratched my fingertips, over his wide mouth and sensuous lips. Sensuous. I’d never noticed before. Or maybe I hadn’t let myself notice. With all the coldness of Kol, his lips defied everything he appeared to be. His lips invited, summoned, lured.
Those lips parted. Two fingertips, shaky, skimmed a fraction inside, resting on a ridge of teeth. His tongue touched the tips. A half-moan escaped me as I pulled my fingers away. His hand combed into my hair, curling around the nape of my neck, his mouth brushing an intimate invitation against mine. I opened for him, and he came inside.
Gentler, but no less dominant than last time, he slid his tongue into my mouth, licking and tasting. Possessing me with his kiss. He shifted his weight over me. My body awakened to the bliss of having him so close again.
His mouth opened mine wider. He wanted more. So did I. In my right mind by daylight, when I wasn’t drowsy from sleep, needy from a nightmare, warm beneath his comforting weight, and delirious with the sensation of his mouth marking me anew, I might have been able to push away. Might. But in such a state, I was helpless against his desire, against my own. All I could think was—
“Yes.”
His lips trailed to my neck, nipping and licking a hot line down the tender column of my throat. My fear faded. An aching need coiled tight with every brush of his mouth on my skin. Although I couldn’t see him in the dark, I could certainly feel him. My hands molded over the wide expanse of his chest, down the ridges of his abdomen. He found my mouth again, groaning as my hands wandered a soft path up and down. Lower to the thin trail of hair disappearing into his pants.
“Moira.” A warning.
He gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head in a firm, yet gentle grip, speaking against my lips. “Stop that.”
I bit his lower lip, swollen from hard kisses. “Why?”
“Because you’re injured. And I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “A gentleman? A devil, maybe.”
He pressed a swift, hard kiss to my lips, then shifted back to my side. “Kittycat, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Keeping both my wrists bound in one hand, his other skimmed over my bare thigh. He nipped down my neck, sucking the hollow at the base. I closed my eyes, letting my body have what she’d been craving ever since his mouth had left me during the scent-marking.
Long fingers found the apex between my legs, stroking over damp satin. If I was in my right mind, I might be embarrassed. But I wasn’t calm-and-collected Moira. I was some other woman, driven by sensation alone. I moved my hips to match his stroking fingers. He growled. Or actually, the dragon growled.
“Keep your hands above your head.” An order. I obeyed.
He freed my wrists and pulled my shirt up above my breasts, all the while still stroking between my legs, soaking the thin fabric.
“Beautiful,” the deep-barreled voice whispered as his mouth opened over my breast, then sucked the tip hard.
My neck and back arched upward on a gasp. He slid my panties down over my hips. I bent my knees so he could slide them off my legs. He left them at the crook, one hand resting on a knee, keeping them bent and parted. His tongue circled my peak as his fingers teased down the inside of my thighs. Then his hands and mouth left my skin altogether. Wanting and desperate, I half-opened my eyes to find him staring into mine with a look of fevered longing, fixed and fierce.
“Don’t close your eyes again.”
I nodded, willing to obey any command.
Totally exposed. Totally vulnerable, my body thrummed for more. He bent his face close to mine, lips touching but not moving, holding my gaze in the dark.
A long finger stroked down my slick cleft, then slid back up in a slow, languorous caress.
“God, Kol,” I whimpered.
No smile.
“Stay with me, Moira.”
I did, lacing my fingers behind his nape as his finger probed my opening, then slid inside. I was so tight. It had been a long time since Mikal. Since anyone for that matter.
I made a choked sort of sound as my hips rocked up to meet his increasing thrusts. He pulled out.
“No,” I begged, “Please.”
He did smile then, sliding two fingers inside me, stretching me with divine pleasure. My mouth fell open on a cry. He smothered it with his own, his tongue thrusting deep. I rocked back and forth, my body knowing what it wanted, mounting higher.
I kissed him deeper, drawing him into me, wanting more of him. Burning. I was on fire. I whispered his name in the dark, a plea for something, for more. Clutching his shoulders, I moaned in ecstasy, like I’d never done in my entire life, coming hard and fast, my muscles clamping on his fingers. Squeezing my thighs, pleasure rocked through me.
What was he doing to me? This wasn’t me. I didn’t make-out with guys I barely knew or let guys feel me up that I had no intention of dating. I’d only ever been with one person and that was after a long time of courtship. Where the hell was Moira? I didn’t recognize the woman panting and pleasantly sated beneath the behemoth of Morgon man. But God, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
He pulled his fingers out and slid my panties back into place, then righted my shirt. He lifted the covers back on the bed, then threw two more logs on the fire. Sparks spit and crackled as the flames licked around the dry wood. Finally, he lay on top of the bed, stretched on his side. “Go to sleep.”
I curled up on my side, facing away from him, ignoring what just happened as much as he seemed to be. I didn’t understand Kol. During the scent-marking, he was all smug about his male prowess. Now, he was so grave, so serious.
“I can’t.”
“You won’t have the same nightmare.” He was close enough that his breath heated the back of my neck, but he didn’t touch me.
“How do you know?”
“Remember when Petrus said clans have certain gifts?”
“Yeah.”
“My clan has the ability to influence dreams. You won’t have another nightmare.”
I rolled over. “Seriously?”
His gaze was steady in the dark. “Dreamwalkers, some people call us.”
“You can enter people’s dreams?” I was already having trouble dealing with him in reality. The last thing I needed was him wandering into my dreams. “Wait. You won’t do that to me, will you?”
The firelight brightened the room more than before. I caught his ghost of a smile.
“No. It doesn’t work that way. We can influence the dreams of someone we’re physically close to, though some of my clansmen can send messages, even visit the dreams of those we have a deeper connection with.”
“Oh.”
I curled my hands into the blanket under my chin.
“You won’t have any nightmares, Moira. I promise you.”
Feeling shy all of a sudden, I flipped over. I liked my name on his lips. His rough voice letting the soft syllables roll in a rumble made my heart trip a few beats.
I listened to the crackling fire and burrowed into the pillow, forcing my breathing to slow, willing myself to accept his promise as truth. So calm and serene in the warm room. There was a tug on my mind. Something pulled me away from reality, as if I were being carried into the other world of my subconscious. I drifted toward the world of sleep, floating in the tranquil place in between. Before I slipped over the edge, I thought I heard gruff, stern words.
“No one’s going to hurt you. I won’t let them.”
And I thought I felt the gentle touch of a heavy hand combing through my long hair. But surely, I’d already fallen into a soft dream.
I knew he wasn’t in the bed from the moment my eyes opened. His presence had stamped itself clear and heavy on me. Wrapping a thick, down blanket around my shoulders, not yet ready to squeeze into my too-tight pants I wore last night, I then shuffled into the next chamber.
An alcove in the short corridor opened up to a spacious bathroom I hadn’t noticed the night before. Against a smooth rock wall, three wide-mouthed spouts jettisoned hot water into one waterfall with the turn of a black lever. Not feeling comfortable enough to shower in his place, I twisted a similar faucet above a deep black-marble basin, splashing my face and rinsing my mouth with warm water. There was no mirror of any kind in the stark room. After finding a towel in a dark-wood cabinet, I dried my face and went in search of my host.
The living room was empty, though the fire burned bright.
“Kol?”
I couldn’t hear the sound of rushing water. Stepping into the corridor leading to the waterfall entrance, I found a solid, metal door closed and alarmed. Though Kol lived in a home of natural elements, he still used modern technology for protection. Smart.
I wandered through the large living room, roving the bookshelf of texts—mostly historical, a few fiction works. I smiled, imagining big, bad Kol curling up with a novel. Something warm swirled inside my chest at the thought.
Strolling through the kitchen, grazing my fingers along the smooth, white-stone countertop, I surveyed the ceramic bowls filled with a variety of fresh produce—onions, squash, tomatoes, oranges. A butcher board and cooking knives stood on one end near the wash basin.
“He cooks?” I mused to myself, more impressed by the minute.
To wander the room filled with creature comforts like books, cooking utensils, soft blankets, a cozy fire, I’d never have pictured the owner of this pleasant abode to be stalwart, cold-as-ice Kol. I trailed a finger along the countertop.
“But he’s not cold, is he?” I asked myself.
No. The façade he showed to the world didn’t reflect the man beneath the frosty exterior. It took him mere seconds to get me all hot and bothered. I grimaced at my behavior last night, heat flushing my cheeks. Sure, he might have talents in the sensuality department, but I couldn’t let myself get carried away by a sexy man when I was on the precipice of what could be a stellar career. Especially not a sexy, Morgon man, who might have plans to put me in a pretty cage and keep me there. I had to stay focused on the job at hand—finding the Devlin Butchers, writing a career-changing exposé, land the coveted job at
The Gladium Post
, and start climbing my career ladder.
By the way, where was that sexy man? Had he left me here all alone?
Wandering farther into the kitchen area, I opened a wooden door I thought might be a pantry. A chilling draft swept in. Stone stairs led up, like a castle tower.
My boots stood by the fire. I slipped them on and pulled the blanket tighter, then shuffled up the spiral stairwell. There was no landing, only a continual climb around and around till my leg muscles burned from the exertion.
Ignoring the blast of cold air at the top, I stepped out through an archway. An alarm system was set in the stone wall. Kol had left the door open and unlocked.
I stepped through the rooftop entrance. He stood against a parapet, looking out. The entire space was wide and open, walled like a battlement, jutting directly out of the mountain that was his home. A few flakes of snow danced in circles on the stone floor. A slate-gray morning dimmed the rising sun, muting the sky into a diaphanous smear of cloud-cover.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, continuing to gaze out over the woods far below.
“Yes.” I moved closer, cold wind nipping at my cheeks and nose. “Thank you.”
Some wall had been breached, some bridge had been crossed or burned. The shield of ice Kol erected to keep the world at bay had melted to a thin sheet. Still stoic and rigid and strong, there was a definite change in him. Though no one else might notice, I certainly did. I could feel it in the air. A fragile web-thin barrier between us could be swept away, colliding our worlds if we so chose.
I joined him, gazing down at the frosted treetops far below.
“Where are we?”
“The northern tip of Singing Wind Wood.”
Geography lessons flashed through my mind and what I remembered from my first flight with Kol to Petrus’s home. Mount Obsidian was south of Drakos. Singing Wind Wood wrapped around the mountain to the southeastern edge of the Drakos Province where another mountain range hemmed in the eastern border of the woods.
“Your home is set in the Feygreir Mountains.”
A tight nod. He did not move, as stone-like as his tower. His scar was softened by the gray morning light, blending with his features. He appeared more vulnerable, though no less powerful.
“How old are you?”
His attention shifted, eyes roving over my face. “Thirty-three.”
Thirty-three? That was kind of old. Not by Morgon standards since they lived two or three centuries, but I’d never date a human that old. At least, I thought I wouldn’t. Wait. I wasn’t going to date him. What was I thinking?
His gaze, heavy and dark, made me retreat inwardly. “Too much man for you, Moira?”
I tightened my hold on the blanket.
“Look, Kol. No matter what happened last night, I’m just not, I’m not interested in dating right now.”