Read Seduced by Crimson Online

Authors: Jade Lee

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Demons & Devils, #Witches & Wizards

Seduced by Crimson (10 page)

But he didn't move his hand down her arm. Instead, his fingertips danced over the bird's head and across its shimmering neck and back. The line traced the dip and curve of her collarbone, and to those who knew, each tattooed feather circled more dangerous incision points along her neck. But Patrick didn't stop with those either.

Instead, he stretched out his fingers to touch more and more of the phoenix's body, the tail feathers blossoming and curling around her breast. Objectively speaking, the art was incredible. The monks had taken a great deal of joy in their work. Apparently, Patrick did too. He stroked the red feathers and brought her nipple to a tight, hungry peak.

She hated that she responded to him, but how could she not? His touch was gentle. Reverent even. But…

"I'm not your thing!" she snapped, contorting away from his hand. "I'm not a tool or a sacred vessel or any damn religious artifact. I'm just a girl, Patrick. One who doesn't go for bondage."

His hand froze a scant millimeter above her breast. Her traitorous body ached for its return. She had to force herself to breathe normally and not inhale deeply just so her breast would graze him again.

"Have I touched a nerve?" he asked.

She glared at him. "You were touching a whole fat lot of them. Damn it, Patrick, I'm done with this game. If you have to boink some girl, then go get some druid chick. I'm not playing." He straightened, his hand dropping into his lap. Once again, her body betrayed her. She felt disappointment at his withdrawal.

"It has to be you, Xiao Fei." Then he huffed out a breath. "Come on, this can't be a surprise to you. You must have participated in the Cambodian gate closing we read about. How else did you get that tattoo?"

She swallowed, the low burning in her gut spreading heat into her body. "It didn't work," she ground out. "They all died."

"It did work," he argued softly. "The gate closed."

"But they all died!"

He nodded, his green eyes inexpressibly sad. Then: "Not all of them. You survived."

"I was small, and quiet—and damn lucky. The… They thought I was dead. And they got disoriented when the gate closed. That's why they overlooked me."

"The demons?" he asked.

She nodded.

"They killed the others, and yet the gate still closed."

She nodded. There was nothing to say.

"But we aren't going to do it that way. This way, you'll be safe."

She blinked. It took a moment for his words to penetrate her thoughts, but when they did, she rolled her eyes in disgust. "The whole druidic sex thing?" she mocked.

"Yeah. The whole druidic sex thing."

"You're delusional. You know that, don't you?"

He shrugged. "Maybe." It wasn't the most reassuring statement she'd ever heard. "But I'll make you a deal," he went on. "I'll know if it's working or not. I'll feel…" He shook his head. "I can't describe it, but trust me. I'll know."

"Oh, right," she drawled. "And do I get to see your etchings, too?"

His lips curved in a smile. "No etchings. But if it's not working, if I'm not getting anywhere, I'll stop. I swear."

Xiao Fei jerked at her bonds, slamming forward as hard as she could. It did nothing but bring tears of pain to her eyes. But what else could she do? She wasn't getting through to him.

"Patrick—"

"It'll work. Or I'll stop. I promise."

"It's not going to work!" She was screaming at him. Then, just for good measure, she stretched her wail into a long, loud bellow for help. He let her go at it until she had to stop for breath. Then he spoke—so softly that she had to be silent to hear him.

"Do that again, and I'll have to gag you."

She believed him—there was no compromise in his eyes—so she shut her mouth. But her tears were still there. In fact, she encouraged them. If screams didn't help, maybe tears would reach him.

Apparently they didn't help enough. Patrick stroked them away with his thumb, his touch tender. "I'll make this good," he said. "I promise."

"It can't be good when it's forced," she answered.

His shoulders slumped. "Maybe not," he conceded. "But I have to try." Then he paused, staring hard at her. "You understand why I'm doing this, right—what happens with the gate? It's not just that some demons will kill everything in sight; it's the wound itself. As long as the Earth is open in this way, it pours its life force into that other place. Orcus, it's called, the demon home world. Earth is bleeding into Orcus, and if we don't seal the wound, everything here will die. AH the people, the plants, the fish. Even the air will sicken."

Xiao Fei swallowed. She knew this. To be honest, she could feel it happening. She had been feeling it for some time now. And Patrick must have seen the knowledge in her eyes, because he smiled, though the expression was grim. "You do understand. You know I have to do this. We have to do whatever it takes."

"It won't work," she choked out. "You've got to know that. On some level, you know that one person just isn't that powerful."

He shook his head. "Pray that you're wrong, Xiao Fei. Pray that this ancient spell will work, because otherwise, all life is doomed."

He watched her a moment longer. She could feel him silently begging her to understand. He wanted her blessing on this most unholy act, but she shook her head. "We could have been good together, Patrick." she whispered. "But if you do this, we'll never get past it. I'll never forgive you."

Her words scored a hit. She saw his anguish. Then the last shimmer of humanity drained from his face until there was no Patrick left. Only Draig-Uisge. "I've already lost my parents to the cause, Xiao Fei. What more is the love of my life?"

Her breath froze in her chest. He couldn't possibly have said what he just had. He couldn't possibly mean it.

Before she could pose another question, he pushed to his feet. She heard his low chanting begin again, and he slowly walked to the base of the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He didn't answer. He was too busy chanting and stripping off his robe. Heavens, he was beautiful. All sensuous golden skin and sleek, rippling muscles. His hair was drawn back in a braid, but he took a moment to untie it and shake it out.

She lifted her head up as best she could to see him fully. Narrowed waist. Nice hips. Proud, full sex. So much for the hope that he couldn't get it up. Then his chanting stopped and he carefully knelt down, leaning across the bedspread. He crawled between her legs, his face between her thighs.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked.

He glanced up in surprise. "I told you. I have to find out if this works. If we…"

"Yeah, yeah, I got that part. But what the hell are you doing?"

He frowned and tilted his head slightly. "You have to be into this, Xiao Fei. You have to have at least some semblance of interest or it's a complete no-go."

"I have no interest whatsoever," she snapped. "None.
Nada
. Nothing. Headache, remember?"

He nodded. "I remember."

She twisted in her bonds. "So, untie me. We'll give it a go tomorrow. Maybe I'll—"

"Nice try. But there's no time." He set his hand on her inner thigh. She gasped at the contact, heat washing delightfully over her skin. Then he gave her a surprisingly boyish grin. "Let's see if I can make that headache go away."

Xiao Fei rolled her eyes. "Sex is not a substitute for aspirin." But that was all she got out before the bed dipped between her legs. She felt Patrick's hands—large and strongs—spreading her farther open. Then he said, "Try to relax…"

He pressed his mouth to her sex.

 

From Patrick Lewis's journal.

 

Dec 22, 1985

Winter solstice celebration yesterday. Like I care. I only went because Jason did. Except he gets into it, the goony. And we get picked. He's beaming like it's some great honor. It's only because we're thirteen, but he doesn't care. He wants to spend
more
time studying weeds and moon phases and bird shit
.

He doesn't fool me. He wants the money for tutoring me. I'd bust him except he lets me read my mags while he does the studying. Then he tells me enough to get by his dad. It's so bogus. Stevie gets guitar lessons, Tom gets to play the bongos. Me, I get to learn the life and times of mushrooms. Like any girl ever got wet talking about fungus.

At least I get to surf again. It's cold as a witch's tit out, but I got a new wet suit for Christmas. Oh, yeah, I mean "for solstice" Like changing the name of a holiday makes it all secret and stuff. I'm sure the FBI really cares what you call the fat guy who climbs down chimneys and leaves stuff.

Of course, Mom and Dad won't let me keep surfing unless I pass the druid tests and keep my grades up. So I'll give Jason an extra buck a week and he'll tell me what happens in the lame-o English book. Too bad he doesn't need any help in science or I'd make it back.

I wish it weren't raining. I wish Sherry Jameson was my girlfriend. But at least my new wet suit is cool.

 

Chapter Five

 

Relaxation was not an option for Xiao Fei, because Patrick's tongue did things to her that made her want to sing. Really, really loudly. And in the key of "yes."

And yet, she also felt violated. Sure, he was cute, but he was also loony and this was not, not,
not
what she wanted. And yet, it so was. Her thighs were quivering, her belly doing a strange undulation thing, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head.

"Patrick," she gasped, forcing his name out. "Please. Don't."

His response was to slowly—oh, God, and so sweetly—slide a single finger down through her folds and into her. She felt his every movement, and couldn't stop herself from releasing a moan of frustration. She didn't want this, she kept repeating to herself. And yet her back was arching as she pressed her pelvis forward.

She felt him smile against her thigh, and she might have kicked him right then if she hadn't been restrained. Then again, she probably wouldn't have, because he was using his tongue once more. How could a man be such a master? He was so precise, hitting just the spots he should, though there was no way he could see what he was doing. And yet, he showed no hesitation. He stroked his finger up through her folds. Up, up, up, he stroked to what Pei Ling called a girl's happy point. And wow, was Xiao Fei's happy.

Other books

Dark Summer in Bordeaux by Allan Massie
The Longing by Beverly Lewis
Openly Straight by Konigsberg, Bill
The Legend by Shey Stahl
Welcome to My Jungle by Duswalt, Craig


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024