Read Daybreak Online

Authors: Ellen Connor

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Paranormal, #Fiction

Daybreak (33 page)

BOOK: Daybreak
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He smiled at the memory. “That was the first time anyone ever said my name that way, like it was a good thing to be me. I was yours, then, but I didn’t think you’d ever be mine. I love you, Pen. I tried to leave because I didn’t see it ending well—not with the way you try to carry the world—but I want you so bad I can’t sleep at night. I stay up just to look at you.” Tru punctuated each word with a kiss down the side of her neck.
A shiver swept through her, delighting him. “Wow.”
“You see the difference, my heart? I’m not sad, telling you this. It’s not a bad thing. I’m happy you’re finally willing to hear it.”
“But you’ve been happier.”
It took him a moment to connect the dots. “Are you comparing yourself to Danni? Don’t. My life with her was good, but I love
you
just as much.”
“You do?” She shifted in his arms, visibly astonished.
“Woman, your mind never ceases to amaze me.” The words weren’t a compliment, and by the way she stiffened, she knew it.
“The way you talked about your wife—” Her voice caught on the last word and he heard her longing.
Hadn’t he wanted that sense of belonging? It seemed she did, too. Tru eased her from him, though not for the reasons she seemed to fear. In the dark, his eyesight was sharp enough to note her pretty face clouding over.
“You want the promises,” he said.
“Only if you mean them.”
“I don’t make vows I don’t intend to keep. Will you bind yourself to me tonight? Will you be my wife?”
Those were not the words he’d spoken to Danni. That night, they had both been wild, playful, laughing.
Let’s stay together forever,
followed by breathless kisses and the sparkling heat of a summer night. This was a somber moment, a weightier one, but no less sweet, like the darkest berries heavy with juice at the bottom of the briar patch—worth the pain of picking them.
A nervous breath escaped her. “You’ll have to tell me what to say.”
“The words just need to come from your heart. But I’ll go first if that makes you feel better.”
“Please,” she whispered.
The lines of an old poem whose author he could no longer remember came to him, perfect for the moment. “Come away, come, sweet love/The golden morning breaks/All the earth, all the air/Of love and pleasure speaks/Teach thine arms then to embrace/And sweet rosy lips to kiss/And mix our souls in mutual bliss.”
Her eyes went wide and dreamy in the dark.
“Penelope Sheehan, I love you more than the sunrise over the ocean, more than freedom. I would die, willingly, to keep you from a moment’s pain. I promise you the full strength of my back and spirit in our shared journey, all the days of our lives. I will never forsake or betray you. I am yours to my last breath.” Tru took her hands in his and brushed each palm in gentle reverence, and then he took her mouth in an utterly carnal kiss. Dual promises of both respect and desire.
She took a breath once they sat back. Although shimmering with nerves, her voice didn’t waver. “You woke me up, Tru, like I wasn’t finished until I found you again. Only with you am I whole, a woman capable of giving and receiving love. You made me believe I could be more, and I will spend my life working to make you as happy as you make me.”
“I take you as my wife,” he said softly. “From this day forward.”
“I take you as my husband, from this day forward.” Her echoed words gave him a pleasurable little chill.
That definitely needed to be sealed with a kiss. There were no witnesses, but in this world, their promise—their kiss—was enough. To again have someone who belonged to him . . . dizzying.
Mine. Oh, Pen.
“I have something for you. For us.” Tru fumbled in his bag.
“A present?” Her tone was joyful, matched by a broad smile.
The Orchid probably didn’t receive many gifts. People might assume that nothing they possessed was good enough. That had to suck.
“I suppose . . . more of a wedding gift.” He found the matching leather bracelets he’d crafted during the long nights at the mission.
The work was primitive, not high quality, and certainly not on par with old-world wedding rings. But her expression lit up when he reached for her wrist to fasten the small ornament.
“You made this for me?”
He nodded. “I didn’t know if this day would come. But . . . I hoped, even when it didn’t make sense.”
“Hope doesn’t.” She gazed down at her arm as if he’d wreathed her in shining jewels. Then she took the other bracelet from him and bound it around his arm, symbolic of the promises they’d made. The circle, likewise, representing a love without end.
The future was uncertain.
But tonight? He would make love to his wife. Tru flashed a series of images at her, opening himself completely, and she responded with a siren’s smile.
“If the lady has no objections?”
“She has none. In fact, I’d go so far as to say she’s eager.”
“No headache? I’ve heard sex is a good cure. Natural endorphins.”
“It’s still there,” she admitted. “But you make it better. You make everything better. You always did.”
He couldn’t claim he’d experienced some instant connection with her as a child—that he had been waiting for her to grow up—but he’d always known she was special. He’d wanted to protect her, even then. Those feelings had grown into something so powerful that they were his heart and soul.
She
was.
Pen shivered and reached for him. The pictures in her mind re-fl ected the devotion sweeping through him, pulsing over them both like a river. He smiled, because she gave back that emotion in a rushing flood. His cock went hard as a spike in response, though it had been sitting at half-mast during their impromptu ceremony. She simply had that effect on him.
“God,” he growled into her throat. “I’m gonna enjoy this.”
“Me too.”
They’d never done this before—made love with their defenses completely down, hearts and minds in tune. In fact, he couldn’t say he’d ever done that with anyone. As of that night, the act was brand new.
My wife.
It was different from Danni, to whom he’d given a boy’s heart and a boy’s enthusiasm. Pen claimed him as a man, who had been beaten, broken. But he’d come out stronger on the other side, strong enough to be the man she needed. His hands trembled as he stripped her clothes, punctuating each article with kisses along the skin he revealed.
Tru meant to go slow. Be soft and gentle. Take hours kissing and licking until Pen was lost in a dreamy daze, but he couldn’t. Not with her dirty pictures in his head, already aroused by the wildness he fed her.
She wasn’t passive, waiting to be pleasured. Not this time. Instead she tugged at his clothes with eager hands. She nuzzled and bit and licked, just as he did.
When Tru bent his head to her breast, she clutched his hair and kissed the top of his head, writhing like a wild thing in his arms. Tempting nipples urged him to suck and nip. He gave her a faint edge of teeth. She cried out.
More,
demanded the heat in his head. He couldn’t possibly do all the things she wanted—not
right
now—yet those ideas maddened him. He wanted to do everything. He wanted to
own her
completely with his body.
“Take me,” she moaned. “Tru, love me.
Fuck
me.”
He lost all control. They rolled onto carelessly strewn blankets, arching and tugging, mouths clinging, legs tangled. She bowed under him, eager to take him, and he palmed her thighs wide, teasing with slow strokes against her hot, slick lips. Pen bucked and clawed at his back. The pain sparked him to greater desire, as it always did, because it meant she was lost in him, just as he was lost in her. The heat of her lust sizzled in his head, flashing graphic images he couldn’t resist.
With a soft roar, he rolled her to her stomach. He’d wanted her like this for so long. Pinned under him. Helpless, impaled on his cock. Now he would have her that way. Rather than acting unsure, she lifted her ass and gave him a look of pure sultry temptation over one shoulder. He couldn’t stand any more.
In a long, hard thrust, he took her from behind, hands on her hips. She accepted his length as if she had been made for this. Her back arched in the most graceful inward bow, sweet bottom pushing back in time to his strokes. He laid his body against hers and nuzzled his face against her neck. Covering her. Claiming her.
“Ah. Ah.” Small moans escaped her, but they only mingled with his harsh breaths. Not protests.
She loved this. He felt it in her body and her mind, each time she moved. That pleasure drove his own desire to insane heights, until he thought he might die of it.
More. More. Yeah.
He fed her his lust, and she shook with it, her pussy drenched around him. Tight and pulsing,  she rocked, growled in her throat—his own lioness.
“Come for me, wife.” The words were enough, coupled with a deep stroke.
Pen gasped her climax, and he bit the back of her neck, holding with his teeth as his orgasm consumed all thought. Dual sensations mingled until he couldn’t tell where his body ended and hers began. He shook from head to toe and his vision grayed. He held still to keep from passing out entirely. Not the right note for their wedding night, even if it happened due to the best sex he’d ever had.
“Damn,” she said eventually.
That pretty much summed up his thoughts. When he could trust himself, he rolled off and pulled her into his arms. They cuddled, sticky with sex and sweat, as night noises sounded all around them.
Even the bugs sound like music tonight. This must be love.
Holding Pen, he imagined that a feeling like this could last all his days, never slipping away like moonlit water through his hands.
THIRTY-FIVE
 
Pen awoke a married woman.
She lay in Tru’s arms, surrounded by a warmth and peace she couldn’t deny. Her sacrifices would mean nothing if she denied herself such a basic need. They had made love through the night, once when she felt surrounded by nothing but Tru and the quiet darkness. He adored her more deeply than she ever imagined, learning and exploring. Then, just before dawn, he had come to her again, his mind and heart open in terrifyingly beautiful ways.
And always the same promise, though it went unspoken. That she could have this for the rest of her life.
All she had to do was trust.
She inhaled and stretched, relishing the flex of his hand at her hip. The purr in his throat was positively feline. Though stripped raw and aching in so many new places, she could have loved him all over again.
But that gorgeous, sultry ambition was cut short by a distant explosion.
“Shit,” Tru rasped, sitting upright. His hair was a snarled thatch, and reddish-brown whiskers shadowed his sharp jaw. “What the hell was that?”
Pen could’ve stretched her mind out toward the sound. The new way she controlled her magic would make it an easy task. But she was still light-headed and not entirely sure of herself. A little time. Time to make certain she didn’t slip back into the realm of giving too much—so much that she risked more than her health.
“Let’s find out,” she said.
Tru pushed the blanket off his thighs. Sweet life, he was beautiful. The dark hair that dusted his skin made her want to leave every care behind. Just stay there. The two of them, safe and loving.
But his smile was even more enticing. “Now that’s more like it.”
Balance. She could balance her two lives. Tru wasn’t going to run from this fight. He was too damn
good,
no matter how his callous shell occasionally got the better of him. That she had brought such goodness back to the world filled her with a power she’d never known. Not magic. Just the knowledge that her life had affected one person so greatly.
They dressed in silence, with quick purpose. Pen strapped her knives around her waist, then tugged on her cloak. Tru outfitted himself simply in the cargoes he’d stolen the day he stopped that O’Malley’s truck. The closer-fitting, more rugged material would serve him better than loose homespun. He looked lean and fierce, especially in his expression. Determined. Fearless.
And if she endangered herself needlessly, she would upset that determination. The worst she could do was split his concentration between the demands of an emergency and anxiety about her. That realization rang clear like the chime of a bell.
She grabbed his arm as he made for the tent flap. “I won’t make you worry.”
A frown revealed his confusion. But softness soon took its place. He glanced down to where their hands joined, with each wrist banded by the bracelets they’d exchanged. “I’d appreciate that.”
He dipped close for a swift, sweet kiss. Pen soaked up every beautiful sensation, as well as how her heart eased its nervous twitch.
She
beat more steadily now.
Out in the clearing, their ragtag soldiers had gathered around Shine, Reynard, and Miranda. “O’Malley’s goons in the distant encampment have been sniping our people as they demarcated the mines,” Shine said. “The explosion occurred when one of the workers was tagged and fell onto a mine. Luckily he was the only casualty.”
BOOK: Daybreak
3.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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