Velvet Haven (16 page)

Mairi had never been kissed like this—so deeply, so thoroughly. Her lungs burned and she broke off the kiss, panting, arching her neck as she ran her trembling fingers through his long hair. His lips brushed her chin, then her neck. She felt the warm, wet tip of his tongue as he trailed it along the column of her throat, then flicked the fluttering pulse at the base, sending goose bumps slithering along her spine. Restlessly her legs slid along the slippery sheets as he began to suckle her throat, making her hips roll and lift in greedy anticipation.

“That’s it.” He rocked his pelvis into her belly, making her feel how hard and long he was beneath his pants. “Show me where you want me to go, how you want me to take you there.”

She saw through hooded eyelids that he was watching to see how her body responded to his touch. He rocked against her once more, swiveling his hips, pushing his erection into the softness of her belly. That strange current in him flowed, and her body took it in. It was like having an orgasm, feeling those extraordinary vibrations beneath his skin. It was a delicious feeling and it made her wonder how much more exquisite the sensations would be when he plunged into her.

Mairi felt the warmth of his hand slide up to her breast, as if knowing what she desired. She felt the electric shock of his finger circling the sensitive areola. Her nipple immediately tightened. Her back arched, the vibrations stronger, more rhythmic, despite the slowness of his finger stroking against her.

He pulled at her, pinching then brushing, heightening then soothing. She heard his breath—ragged—felt the heat of his mouth bathing her throat, and she reached for him, raking her nails down his back.

His cock was hard and insistent, and she wanted it inside her, along with those strange vibrations that kept coming in waves off his body. She was delirious with need now. It was the only explanation for the hum she felt.

“I want you—
now
,” she demanded, clawing at his back, craving the intensity of the vibrations her body was absorbing.

He dragged his lip across the hard tip, once, twice, then glanced up from her breast. His eyes were glinting like precious metals. In the center, where the pupil should have been, was a dot of liquid silver. It shone like a diamond, twinkling at her.

He captured her gaze and held it while he lowered his chin and dragged his bottom lip once more across her nipple, sending shooting sparks of longing to her core. He bit her gently, teasingly. She scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. The way he watched her totally turned her on.

In truth, she was so close, and when it happened, she was going to come like a bomb. She just knew it, the way her body was lighting up for him. Good Lord, she was panting now, as if she’d run a marathon. She couldn’t catch her breath, and every time she looked down, it was to see Bran tonguing her nipple.

He cupped her in his palm, squeezing, watching the flesh spill out of his hand. Then he brought it to his mouth, capturing the nipple gently between his teeth. Mairi held her breath . . . waiting. He glanced up, caught her gaze, then slipped the aching bud inside, sucking her deep until she moaned and thrashed her legs on the bed.

His fingers ran down her hip and thigh till she felt his broad fingers sliding up the inside of her leg. “I can smell your core. I want to taste it.”

Yes!
Her legs parted of their own will, allowing him more room to stroke her. He teased her by drawing his finger down her soft hair and tracing the contours of her folds. Then he parted her, drawing his thumb along her, dampening her flesh, spreading the thickening wetness.

“You flow heavy for me,
muirnin
.” Then he brought his finger to his mouth and licked. “And you taste so right for me.”

No one had ever done anything like that. No one had ever said anything so erotic, so blood-curdlingly sexy. No one had ever looked at her quite the way Bran was looking at her—like he wanted to devour her.

The vibration in him increased, and she looked down between their bodies to find him studying her. She waited, holding her breath as he slowly slid his finger along her plump crease, watching as his finger disappeared between her folds.

“I can hear your heart beating, Mairi, can feel it even here, at your core. It’s beating so fast, like the wings of a humming-bird. It’s speeding up, isn’t it, the longer you wait, the longer you anticipate this?”

She nodded, feeling her heart skip a beat as he pressed closer to her, his mouth grazing her sensitized flesh.

“Do you trust me, Mairi?”

She held his head in her hand, pushing forward, needing his mouth on her. “Yes.”

“Do you trust me enough to let go, because that’s how I want you, free and wild, writhing as I go down on you.”

She could do that. Most definitely. She could be wild. Hell, she was nearly there.

He found her clitoris and flicked it. The motion, combined with the strange vibration in his touch, sent her over the edge. His lips set fire to her, as he spread her wide and licked her all over, leaving no inch of her sex un lapped by his incredibly skilled tongue.

She screamed and arched, holding him to her as she shook beneath his mouth. She probably should have been mortified by how easily she came, but she couldn’t think of that. All she could think about were the amazing sensations of her orgasm—then the fleeting disappointment that she hadn’t waited to feel more, because she was certain that Bran could definitely have taken her even higher.

She collapsed against the pillows, spent, breathing heavily. He kissed her inner thigh, dragging his tongue up the length of her, before his head fell to her navel. He nuzzled her with his warm lips as his fingers played with her sex.

He was definitely not finished with her.
Thank God!

“Mairi?”

“Hmm?”

“Undress me. I
need
to be naked with you.”

Banging on the door jolted them both from the sensual haze hovering between them. With a curse, Bran was off of her and striding to the door before she could cover herself with her shirt. With a fierce pull, he inched the door open.

“What do you want?” he snarled with a sound that seemed inhuman.

“We got issues downstairs.”

“Not my problem.”

A hand shot out and landed on the door, preventing Bran from slamming it shut. “It sure as hell is your problem—it’s her friend.”

With a sinking feeling, Mairi knew what was happening. “I’m coming,” she called as she clutched her shirt to her chest. Rhys MacDonald averted his eyes and turned his back as she got dressed, but he stayed in the hall, his stance telling her that he was pissed off and in a hurry. She should be horrified by how she must appear to him, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She had Rowan to be concerned about.

“Is she having a seizure?” Mairi asked as she pulled on her pants.

“No, why? Does she have those?” the man asked, sounding alarmed.

“Yeah. So if she’s not seizing, is she stumbling around muttering incoherently?”

“She’s walking around like a zombie.” The man’s gaze slid to where Bran stood, scowling. “Talking about Morgan and hellhounds.”

Mairi saw Bran visibly jump. “Let’s go,” he commanded, all but pulling her from the bed. She was rumpled and her hair was a mess, but at least she was dressed. Bran didn’t give her a chance to make herself presentable. He pulled her along the dark hallway, almost dragging her behind him.

“Hurry, before it is too late.”

“Too late? Too late for what?” she gasped, pulling away from him. Something dark and scary curled in her belly. “What the hell has Sayer done to her?”

He turned and glared at her. “You said you trusted me.” “I did. Now I’m thinking I might have been wrong. Was it your plan to separate us so that your friend could hurt Rowan and you could do whatever the hell you wanted with me?”

His glare turned glacial; his mismatched eyes actually looked as though they were churning up one hell of a storm. “There was no plan.”

He touched her face and his gaze softened. “We’ll talk about what happened later. First we have to see to your friend.”

Reaching for her hand, Bran tugged her along, down the carpeted steps to the main floor. Skirting the dance floor, they made a left, then another quick left away from the lounges and the bar, and down a dark hall.

A door was suddenly thrown open and Mairi saw Rowan pacing, her jade-colored eyes wide. She was ranting like a madwoman about dogs, fog, and black magick.

“Honey, it’s Mairi.” But like always, Rowan didn’t hear her. “It’s okay,” she soothed, reaching for Rowan’s hands. “I’m here, and I won’t leave you.”

“A house of mourning, a garden of pain, a path of tears. This is where you will find the first key.”

“I know,” Mairi whispered, hugging her friend. Rowan always said something about a key, but who or what she was talking about remained a mystery, a vision only she could see. Mairi had tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but always came up empty. The only thing they had to go on was a sketch Rowan had drawn during one of her visions. It didn’t look like any sort of key either of them had seen. In fact, it didn’t look like a key at all.

“Before you arrived, she said hellhounds were coming, coming to tear apart the raven,” Sayer murmured to Bran.

“What would a mor—” Bran stopped midsentence, glanced at her. He didn’t finish what he had started to say.

“Whatever she’s doing, I want her out of my club before the cops come. Understand?” MacDonald thundered. “Use the back door and get her gone.”

Mairi tried to find the best way to explain things. “Rowan has these spells a lot. She has . . . a . . . a tumor in her brain,” she went on softly, saying the words out loud for the first time. “She goes for surgery next week to have it removed. This”—Mairi indicated Rowan’s trancelike state with a wave of her hand—“usually happens before a seizure.”

A low growl broke the quiet from the other side of the room. Mairi turned and saw Keir in the shadowed corner. The look on his face momentarily shook her. The pain she saw in his eyes didn’t make sense.

“
What’s up with the Shadow Wraith?
” Bran mentally asked Sayer.

Sayer glanced at the Keir. “
I don’t know. But he says that she’s not all human.”

Bran’s gaze shot back to the woman called Rowan. He studied how she paced, how she seemed to be in a deep trance, watching something she only saw in her mind.

“
How the hell does she know any of this?
” he snapped.

“If you two are done with your little tête-à-tête,” MacDonald exploded, looking between Bran and Sayer, “we should get going. If hellhounds are coming, then we need to prepare. And I’m not above giving them what they want. If you know what I mean.”

What they wanted was him.

“Look, I doubt anyone is coming,” Mairi said. “It’s the tumor. It gives Rowan . . . I don’t know. Visions.”

“To disbelieve would be a mistake.” The Shadow Wraith’s voice was soft but sure. Bran glared in warning, but Keir met his glare head-on with his ever- changing eyes, which were now electric blue. “She sees.”

Bran thought back to Rowan’s aura, the indigo and black melding together. Marked for death, but a seeker as well.

Damn it, he didn’t have time to figure out the woman, and how she could see Annwyn. If Morgan was near he needed to act. His powers were weak, and in the mortal realm they were all but nonexistent.

A brilliant flash of white lit up the window of the office. It was followed by an earth-shattering rumble. The growl of the hellhounds.

“Ah, shit,” Sayer groaned.

Bran reached for Mairi. “Get down,” he hissed in her ear before he shoved her to her knees. “Under the desk.
Now!
”