Chapter Eight
CHAPTER
EIGHT
All throughout dinner, Jileana got the feeling that Jaykun was heavily preoccupied.
He spoke very little to anyone who tried to engage him, and after two attempts to draw him into conversation, she stopped trying.
She would not force him to be social with her if that was not what he wished.
She was simply content to be spending time with him no matter what his mood.
She had never found anyone so fascinating and enjoyable before.
Of course a lot of that had to do with how different he was, how alien he was to her in comparison to her own people.
Everything about him was a new and fascinating experience.
And, she had to admit, their couplings were quite erotic and satisfying.
Oh yes … She hoped he felt more social later on, because she would like very much to be able to communicate her passion for him.
She had never known such a craving for a male before.
Perhaps it was because she had never mated with a man not of her race before; the newness and differentness fascinated her, making more out of it than it was.
But she didn’t really think so. That might have been true in the beginning, but any curiosities ought to have been satisfied with a single mating. There would have been no need for another.
But she wanted another. And another. And …
well … as many as she could possibly cram into three days.
She was certain of that. She didn’t examine the craving too deeply.
She had come there specifically to indulge herself in every new experience her time could afford her, and so far she had not been disappointed in the least. Oh, there would be penance to pay when she got back home, and she supposed she should be worried about it, worried about her parents’ displeasure over her actions, but she was having far too much fun.
So she spent the meal enjoying all the new foods and tastes, discovering what she liked and what she didn’t like, and tried not to worry about anything at all. Besides, worrying did little good. Things would be what they were going to be; worrying about them really served no purpose.
After dinner, Jaykun left without saying much of anything to her.
This didn’t bother her either because she knew where he was headed eventually.
He really didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter.
She didn’t know all the particulars of what happened to him every night, but she knew it was a lonely business and she refused to see him suffer it alone if she could at all help it.
True, she could not share his burden or his pain—she couldn’t even hope to comprehend it—but she could be there with him when it began and be waiting for him when it ended.
So, shortly before dusk, she left the city, walked down the beach to the cove, and found him there, slowly stripping off his clothing and leaving it in a neat pile at a safe distance from where he usually sat.
He looked up in surprise at her approach, not having heard her until the moment before she reached out to touch him.
“Why are you here?” he asked and she detected a note of suspicion in the query.
“Because you wish me to be,” she said.
“I expressed no such wish,” he said.
“I did not say you expressed the wish, only that you have the desire.”
“How would you know what I desire?” he asked, his tone quiet.
“Any person with a heart would know that being alone through this makes it all the more painful.”
“It is painful for me to know you are watching,” he argued.
“Perhaps. Perhaps because you are caring more about me than about yourself. But I would prefer we care more about you than me for these hours to come. You deserve that much, if not more. I cannot give you relief during this, but I can be here for you immediately after. Please. Allow me to do this,” she said to him, her voice soft and pleading.
Jaykun reached out to her, touched his hand to her face, his thumb curving up over the apple of her cheek.
She had such a beautiful face, such an open expression.
It was hard to imagine her being duplicitous.
Especially in the face of all she was saying.
Still, he would be very vulnerable during these next hours.
It was a vulnerability he wasn’t sure he wanted to share with anyone.
Not even with his brothers, who had suffered similar tortures in their turn.
And yet he had shared it with her these past nights and she was right. Having her here had somehow made it a little easier to bear.
“Very well. Stay if you must.”
“I must,” she said, reaching to catch the wrist of the hand touching her face and holding him still long enough to turn her head and press a kiss into the center of his palm.
He dropped his hand away and finished undressing.
She reached for the laces of her dress and in a quick movement stripped it off her back.
She folded it awkwardly, more rolling it up into a ball than anything, and placed the dress on top of his clothing.
He looked at her in surprise, then let his eyes run over her naked skin, his thoughts turning instantly carnal.
It was shocking to him. Usually by this time of day he was completely obsessed with what was about to happen.
But now … now all he could think about was how damned delectable she looked.
How with every movement she seemed to be telling a sensual story to him.
Everything about her beckoned to every part of him.
He let his eyes stroke down over her full breasts, her lean flank, and her curvy hip …
on to the never-ending length of her legs.
She was unbearably beautiful. She had to know that, had to know she was tempting him every second of every day.
Was this all part of her design? Was it what she had been told to do by someone from Serenity?
Did they wish to know if they were next on his list of conquests?
But no. He hadn’t even known Serenity existed until she had told him about it. If her people were trying to avoid him, it would be foolish to send someone to point them out to him.
No, he realized with sudden clarity. She was not a spy.
“Come here,” he commanded her, beckoning her forward with a sweep of his fingers.
She smiled slyly and slid her bare body up against his, the feel of her warm skin almost an erotic torture because he knew he could not have her.
In truth, she shouldn’t be standing this close to him/As he kept one eye trained on the sinking sun at the horizon, most of his awareness turned inward so he would know the instant he began to burn.
He slowly walked them into the water, choosing his spot, and sitting down with her.
“You will move away the instant I tell you to. No arguments?” he asked of her.
“I do not wish to be burned. I am not foolish.”
“Good,” he said. Then he cupped her face between his hands, his thumbs shaping the lushness of her lips. “I will not kiss you for fear it will be too distracting, because I do lose my focus whenever I kiss you.”
She smiled beneath his thumbs. “I lose focus as well in some ways. In others … I feel as though I have never been so keen in my life.”
Jaykun appreciated the thought. “I merely wish to look at you. To touch you. Not to arouse you or us, but simply to appreciate the beauty of you. I see so little in the way of beauty in my war camps. Let me just look at you, Jileana.”
“All right,” she whispered.
And for the next ten minutes she did exactly that: let him look his fill, let him trace over every one of her curves, every inch of soft loveliness she had to offer him. The appreciation was completely nonsexual, although he was aroused the entire time.
“Next time,” she said softly, “I will appreciate you.”
“Next time,” he agreed. Then he drew in a sharp breath. “Go! Now!”
She didn’t hesitate. She scrambled back away from him and made it to a safe distance just in time to feel the incredible burst of heat as he exploded into hot, burnr ing light, blinding her before she lifted a hand to guard her eyes.
She wondered that he didn’t cry out. The pain must have been excruciating.
And she knew it was meant to be. He was meant to suffer through this entire torment.
She didn’t know why exactly, didn’t fully understand, but she would.
She would see to it he explained every part of what he suffered.
For now …
… she watched him burn.
Jaykun’s body sizzled in the ocean water, juquil’s hour having brought his torment to a halt.
But he was nothing more than burned bones and charred flesh at that first moment of release.
Then he felt someone gathering him close, holding his pain-riddled body, and rocking him gently.
He could not see or hear, both eyes and ears having been burned away, but he felt it.
Somehow, through all of his pain, he felt it.
As he lay there and healed, he felt her holding him.
When his ears healed enough, he realized she was singing to him.
Her voice was haunting and beautiful, the tone like nothing he’d ever heard before.
She was singing some sort of lullaby to him, he realized. Soft and sweet:
The night brings us close, Holding you dear.
The night brings us close;
The water is clear.
The night brings us close;
Let’s see what you hear.
It was as though the song helped him heal faster, he thought. Well, it healed his soul, in any event. She healed his soul. Having her there, hearing her voice, it settled him and made everything easier somehow.
When he had healed enough, he realized he was lying with his head on her breast and she was holding him up out of the water. Aware of his weight and how exhausting that must be for her, he quickly sat up and leaned away from her.
“Shh. All is well,” she soothed him.