Chapter 26
Silence fell.
A ghostly silence, though not cold or alien, but alive with the ancestors who had spent their lives here. Will tasted their bitterness on his tongue and felt their disapproving stares against the back of his neck. But that was an enemy he knew.
“Damnation,” Elodie breathed, stepping to the edge of the drop.
Will could not help laughing as he looked over her shoulder at the broken corpse below.
Lake’s spine had struck a support beam left on the floor from the demolition, and his ribs jutted from his chest. His arms and legs bent at unnatural angles.
In the cool moonlight, his shadow once again obeyed the laws of nature.
Elodie hurled her blood daggers at the man and sliced away half his head. The crown of his skull slid aside, and brain matter spilled across the stones.
“Is it over?” Will asked cautiously, taking a step back.
Some bureaucratic corner of his mind noted that he should secure this doorway tomorrow.
The rest of his body screamed with adrenaline, hot as magma as it pulsed through his veins with every heartbeat.
He could almost taste it where it mingled with blood and salt.
Elodie laughed weakly and sank against the paneled wall of the corridor. Her head fell back, and every trace of tension drained from her. All that remained was the glorious chaos of her appearance.
Only then did Will notice the torn collar of her nightgown, which exposed the milky swell of her breasts. Blood ran from her chin, smeared wildly across her lips and cheeks, and traced a path down her bare throat, tangling with the disheveled curls spilling over her shoulders.
Will stepped closer, hypnotized by the sight of her. In the faint light, her eyes were like storm clouds hanging low.
She was beautiful.
The opposite of the perfect, sensual vision she had been all those weeks ago. Then, she had seemed untouchable. Now she was raw and wild. He had admired her beauty, fought against her will, tasted her blood, and now all of it became one.
Slowly, as though his body knew every step was a mistake, he approached her. He took her bloody hand and turned her palm upward. The bite wounds had stopped bleeding, leaving only the half-dried blood behind. His last concern fell away and carried the final remnants of reason with it.
He licked across the wound, not cautiously as he had before, but completely, filling his mouth with the feel of her soft, torn skin and the taste of her blood.
Slowly, he exhaled and sought her gaze, waiting for a rejection.
None came.
In the next instant, he was against her, pressing her into the wall, her arm still in his hand and now pinned to the wood.
His body covered hers, his face only inches away.
His breathing was heavy, but it found the rhythm of Elodie’s as her lips parted.
She did not push him away. No, she smiled faintly and opened herself to him, allowing him to step between her legs.
Piece by piece, his body found its match in hers.
The scent of incense and lilac consumed him, but he hesitated. She was a lonely woman in a vast, empty house, barely tall enough to reach his chest.
Gods, and he was pinning her to a wall.
Only seconds from falling on her like an animal.
Elodie sensed his hesitation—there was no other way to interpret her sigh, or the way she arched her back and pressed herself against his hips. His head sank against the wood beside her trapped hand, while his other arm circled her waist, seeking more warmth.
“Elodie…” He murmured her name, half pleading.
She was everywhere, even when he closed his eyes.
He felt her along every inch of his body.
The fabric of her nightgown was too thin; he could feel her curves, her hips, her legs.
Her heartbeat as his hand traveled higher and stopped beneath the heavy swell of her breasts.
“Will.” Her fingers clawed into his shirt, holding him exactly where he was. She had to feel him growing hard, his erection pressing against her stomach. “I cannot,” she whispered, her voice feverish.
He squeezed his eyes shut so tightly that stars danced behind them, his forehead resting against the paneling as he fought with himself. He had just sent a man to his death and survived by the narrowest margin, yet he had never felt more alive.
He was a murderer. His fingers were stained with blood, and he could still taste it on his tongue.
The wound in his thigh throbbed, and magic still echoed inside his chest. Elodie was no better.
No, she looked like a fury from legend, blood drying on her chin.
And still, she promised everything he had never known he wanted.
Desire surged within him, a longing he had known only since the moment she first stepped through the door dressed in nothing but silver silk.
She was right. They could not do this. He had to release her and forget his desire. It had to be the madness of magic controlling his mind.
He should let Elodie go.
She did not want this.
Elodie rolled her hips, and a quiet sigh escaped her as the heat between her legs brushed over his erection.
Will went still.
“But I want you anyway,” she whispered.
His mouth met hers, hard and hungry.
His mind forgot everything as he tasted her, hot and coppery.
He pressed closer, her lips opening to him, her tongue finding his.
Dancing together, they devoured one another.
Her fingers tangled in his hair and dragged him nearer, as though they could somehow merge.
The kiss was desperate, half drunken frenzy and half longing denied for far too long.
They forgot themselves and everything they were supposed to be.
His hands moved across her body, exploring the soft curves he had until now measured only with his gaze.
His right hand closed around her breast, and they both stopped with a gasp.
Carefully, his fingers explored the soft fullness, his thumb circling the hard bud of her nipple.
They felt so different from what he had imagined—heavier, firmer, and softer all at once.
He could barely hold one in his hand, and Elodie made the sweetest sounds when he stroked her nipple again.
This time, Elodie captured his mouth and plunged into the kiss with renewed fire.
Will caught the hem of her nightgown and pushed it upward until both hands closed around her hips. Her skin was burning. She was softer everywhere than he was accustomed to, and he loved pressing his fingers into the velvet of her flesh.
Only several seconds later did he realize she wore nothing beneath the nightdress.
Without thinking, he lifted her. He pressed her against the wall and settled her over his bent thigh, one hand supporting her ass so that their faces were nearly level. She wrapped both legs around his hip and rubbed herself against him, searching for something that might answer her longing.
Images from the examination flashed through his mind, and he broke the kiss.
“Your virginity…” The word nearly strangled him.
There was an animal inside him that wanted to be the one who took it.
That wanted to be the first man to make this beautiful, stubborn woman moan.
To show her what hunger and pleasure meant, while at the same time—his stomach fluttered at the thought—allowing her to show him what it might be like to be with someone just as curious, careful, and uncertain as he was.
“I cannot…” Elodie’s words betrayed more than she intended. They broke off, half desperate and half consumed by desire.
Will nodded and kissed along her jaw. Slowly, he moved lower and pushed the collar of her nightgown from her shoulder.
He kissed the hollow above her collarbone, the curve of her throat, and smiled as he licked across the pulse beating there.
How sweetly she whimpered, as though wishing a vampire upon herself.
He bit gently, and Elodie arched toward him.
With every kiss he breathed across her chest, he let his teeth scrape over her damp skin before licking away the marks.
Little by little, he pushed the sleeves from her shoulders. The fabric slipped from her chest and caught at her hips. Her breasts were beautifully heavy, her nipples hardened into pearls. Gooseflesh stippled her skin.
Carefully, he set her back on the floor only to sink to his knees before her and kiss what he had explored blindly with his hands. Reverently, Will cupped her breasts and allowed himself for a second simply to enjoy the feeling, to pause and take her in.
He could recall only one vaguely comparable occasion, when his fellow students had hired several prostitutes and a nice lady had pushed her enormous breasts into his face.
But Elodie was entirely different. Will drew one nipple into his mouth and shuddered.
Desire had become almost unbearable; his erection hung hard and heavy, straining impatiently against his waistband.
He wanted to sink into her heat and become one with her.
Perhaps he was no gentleman, but he would preserve her honor. He did not need experience loving women to know there were countless other ways to give pleasure.
He wanted to share all of them with her.
So he worshiped her breasts until she dug her nails into his scalp. His other hand moved lower, her nightdress fell to the floor, and his fingers slid through her dense curls until they found heat. Damp, soft lips that parted with his touch.
Elodie made a sound he could scarcely describe, but wanted to hear again and again.
He explored her pussy while his mouth kissed her breasts. His fingers circled, always listening to the song of her breathing.
“Will, please!” Elodie writhed above him and pleaded so sweetly. Tormenting her a little longer, he made his way down her belly with kisses, past her navel to the sensitive skin where her thighs joined her body.
Then panic suddenly broke through the haze of his thoughts, because nothing in his life had prepared him for this moment.
“I…” Will began, looking up at her.
She had one hand closed around her flushed breast, her gaze glazed as it rested on him. “Do not torture me,” she whispered, pressing herself toward him.
But Will did not know whether he could fulfill that request.
“I have never done this before.”
“Kissed a woman?”
Will kissed her thigh, suddenly uncertain. Surely that could not surprise her.
Elodie tilted her head, sending cascades of ebony hair falling to one side. She looked down at him almost tenderly, almost understandingly, though far too undone to manage either fully. Then she slid her fingers into his hair and guided him toward the heat between her legs.
“Just kiss me here.”
He was happy to obey.
Though nervousness now mingled with his intoxication, he drew his tongue through her folds and sucked at the place where all her nerves gathered. For the first time, he was grateful for all those evenings when his drunken colleagues had freely described their conquests.
Elodie’s gasps and panting told him he was doing it right. Growing bolder, he continued, devouring her as though she were his final meal. He knew how to read a lover’s signals—when to linger, when to move faster.
He tasted the rich spice of her arousal, so perfectly matched to her scent. Nothing like the salt of semen, yet every bit as intensely alive. Her folds were wet with her nectar and his saliva, and he drank it all.
Then, when he felt her begin to tighten and heard his name falling ever more breathlessly from her lips, he pushed his tongue into her inviting entrance.
A long, whimpering cry broke from her. Her fingers became claws in his hair, and she rode his mouth without restraint.
He held her, answering her urgency, licking and driving his tongue into her until he could barely breathe.
She used his whole face, unashamed, rubbing her clitoris across his nosebridge, while his tongue was deep inside her.
But it was worth it to feel her chasing the edge, pursuing it and fearing it at once.
His erection was painfully hard, his own release only a few strokes away.
Gods, how he wanted to lose himself here with her, to follow her over the edge. He wanted to enter that tight, burning heat until she stretched around his cock and her muscles held him as they now clenched around his tongue. There was so much more he could give her, so much more he longed to feel.
But for now, he remained where he was, kneeling before her like a knight before his queen, and he would change nothing.
Instead, he drew her swollen bud between his lips one final time, teasing her before thrusting his tongue back into her cunt.
Elodie broke around him.
Trembling.
Clenching.
Her cry as she came was longing finally set free.
Once more, he licked through her lips until she collapsed above him, shaking and held upright only by his hands.
Slowly, she found her breath again and pulled away.
“This was a mistake,” she whispered while he was still basking in his triumph.
Will pushed the hair from his face, his erection rigid inside his trousers. With some effort, he rose.
“We both were aware of that every second.” There was not enough blood left in his head for him to understand what she was saying. “You were already cursing me while you came on my tongue.”
Elodie gathered up her ruined nightgown. “This could be my downfall.”
“I was—” He cut himself off and stepped back. “Do not dare turn this around now. We are both adults, and making out in an empty corridor is the least of our problems when there is a damned corpse lying five meters away.”
“Hedgefort will deal with it. You should return to your room.”
That stung.
Will stepped toward her again, took her chin, and forced her to meet his gaze.
He wondered whether she had ever done anything like this before, and if so, how often.
Whether anyone had ever kissed those rosy lips until they were swollen and sore.
She looked delightful, and he was already dreaming of the next time he might see her so completely undone.
“Do not forget, among all your schemes and plans, that you are also human—a human who may need a few more mistakes in her life.”
He held her gaze for several seconds longer. Then she tore herself free and marched away.
“People like me cannot afford mistakes!”