Chapter 48
GLORY
IDON’T WANT TO PLAY anymore.
Kitty’s words were incendiary. Only a decade of training with his grandfather, Magnus, kept Kal from imploding on the spot.
The old Bladesinger of Ilistaar had demanded discipline from his pupils, and Kal’s status as his only grandchild hadn’t spared him the rigors of training. On the contrary, it intensified them.
And the woman before him was the first person in Kal’s entire adult life who made him lose control.
Robb and Skott Carrow? He hadn’t killed them because they’d come for him. Kal had killed them because they frightened Kitty. Dared to touch and intimidate her. That was unforgivable.
What had come after? Her panic attack aside, Kal could get used to sitting before a roaring fire with her soft body nuzzled against him, her flushed face pressed into his chest. He loved the feel of her. He’d fucking purred for gods’ sake.
And now? Kal couldn’t tear his gaze from those amber-moss irises.
I don’t want to play anymore.
He knew what he wanted. But what did she mean?
“Tell me what you want,” he said. Kal forced his hungry hands away from Kitty’s decadent body and commanded them to relax at his sides.
He thrilled at how his touch distracted her, so obviously scrambling her wits, but not when it came to her consent.
He wanted her fully aware when she answered him.
Kal had half a mind to scoop the blanket off the floor and cocoon her in it so he wouldn’t be so tempted to influence her response.
“I want you,” she said.
The beast beneath Kal’s skin roared in triumph. His fingers were seconds from weaving into her wild hair, shredding those last teasing pieces of fabric that clung to her pale skin, pulling her flush against his body and deeper into his lair when her next word froze him solid.
“But…”
Damn it, no! “But what, Kitty girl?”
She tried to duck her face, cheeks reddening a lovely shade.
“Hey,” he said, curling a finger under her chin. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she replied, a hint of humor glinting briefly. Then it died. “I can’t be…touched.”
“I think that ship has sailed,” he murmured, running the curve of his knuckles down one arm.
Kitty took a deep breath. “No, I mean, it’s not permitted. The Goddess…” she stalled. Started again. “My mother’s priests, and the elders, they said…”
Kal waited, listening while she sorted through what she needed to say. Never mind his internal wailing. That fucking curse.
Finally, Kitty grew frustrated enough with her attempts at tactful communication that she spat it out. “I can’t go to the Primordial Male having lain with another man,” she blurted. “I cannot be touched.”
Hearing that title sent a screaming pain echoing through the caverns of Kal’s hollowed heart. And knowing the task she was expected to undertake? That she’d been taught any real physical intimacy made her, what? Unclean?
Rage. Instant, murderous rage.
Kal should have dropped his hands immediately, but hadn’t he already explained he was a selfish bastard when it came to her?
“I’m keyed up here, Kitty,” he said. “And I’m trying to understand.
You said you don’t want to play anymore.
But if I can’t touch you, I need you to tell me exactly what you want from me. ”
A horrified expression came over her. “Oh gods,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know,” she mumbled between fingers. “I’m sorry.”
Kal would be damned if he lost her to embarrassment now. Or indecision. Or anything. He refused to cross a line she’d definitively drawn. The problem was, Kitty didn’t seem to know where that line lay, only that one existed. Solution? Kal was going to toe it until there was no question.
Without warning, Kal swept Kitty into his arms. She yelped in surprise.
“What are you doing!”
“Curing your confusion.”
Alarm shuddered through her frame, transferring to Kal’s as he cradled her against him, biceps bunching under her knees and back. He strode through the darkened hallway leading from his bedroom, past the living room, to the bookshelf hiding his basement stairwell, and down.
Kitty seemed to be searching for words. “Does this magical cure involve locking me in your basement?”
He grinned wolfishly down at her. “Does the prospect of that excite you?”
She gaped.
When he reached the spacious chaise lounge, he set her upon it and went about lighting all the lanterns and modified sconces until a flickering amber glow illuminated the room.
“If you plan to study ancient texts to distract me from,” she made a vague waving motion above her head, “whatever that was in your room, then I fear you’ve grievously miscalculated.”
Kal almost laughed. Whatever that was. “Why don’t you tell me what you think that was, and I’ll let you in on my plan. I can assure you it doesn’t involve consulting the godscripts.”
She clamped her mouth shut, and Kal did laugh.
He disappeared to the far side of the room, where his private armory and the bulk of his weapons collection were, and carefully rummaged through an old trunk.
This chest of precious belongings had been a gift from Adder, taken from Brightsea Castle.
The one place in Ilistaar to which Kal hadn’t been able to return.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d opened it.
Without allowing himself to dwell on the other contents, he found what he was looking for and strode back to Kitty.
She eyed him warily.
He dropped to a crouch before her. Gods, look at all that creamy skin. He needed to be careful about this.
“What are you doing, Kal?” she whispered.
“Toeing the line.”
Her lovely dark brows wrinkled.
Kal braced his hands on either side of her, leaning his weight into the chaise. “Since you don’t seem to know how far is too far, we’re going to find out together.”
She gulped. “How?”
He grinned up at her. “I’m going to touch you. And you’re going to tell me when to stop.”
Kitty’s green-gold eyes, wide with surprise, nearly glowed in the dancing light. Her lips parted. “What do I do?”
That was simple. “Whatever you want.”
She took a shaky breath. “Okay.”
A wild, nervous energy worked its way through Kal’s innards, blitzing down his limbs, saturating the blood racing through his body.
He felt fourteen again, gazing unbelieving at the girl of his dreams. Only this time, she wasn’t promised to someone else.
Fuck reality. In this moment? She was his. And he was no longer a boy.
Kal reached out and dragged the back of his finger over the soft curve of Kitty’s cheek, along her jaw, and down her neck. He felt the pounding of her pulse beneath pale skin. “Remember. Tell me when to stop.”
Kitty’s fascinated attention locked on him. She nodded. It was all the permission he needed.
Kal’s fingers glided over her shoulders, tracing along her collar bones and down her arms, sending gooseflesh rippling over every visible surface of skin.
Her chest heaved as he worked his way back up.
Kal took his time. He left a trail of kisses everywhere: her hairline, nose, jaw, chin, the column of her throat, chest, and palms. When he slipped his fingers under the ivory cloth supporting her breasts, Kitty’s whole body shuddered.
He paused, searching her face, one hand cupping the swell of soft flesh.
When she gave another quick nod, he pulled the fabric away. Kitty gasped as her breasts were freed. Kal dipped his head and fastened his mouth over one pink nipple.
“Oh, dear holy gods,” she groaned, fingers fisting the blanket bunched beneath them.
Dear gods was right. Kal had just found a new religion. And it required fervent worship. He was a lowly acolyte, and she, his goddess.
“Kal,” Kitty gasped.
He lifted his head. Waited. He might die if she asked him to stop.
“Kiss me?”
Kal surged up her body and covered her mouth with his.
He was starved for her. His tongue dipped between her lips.
She groaned, and he swallowed the sound.
His hands moved of their own volition, unable to maintain their patient perusal.
Damn him, but he wanted her too badly. His whole body ached with need for this woman.
Kal’s right hand ran down the length of one bare thigh and back up, cupping the plump curve of her ass.
And then he couldn’t help himself any longer.
He slipped his fingers beneath the delicate barrier of her undergarments.
She was liquid beneath him. Molten. Like hot honey.
Gods, he wanted to taste her. Wanted her writhing beneath him as he explored every curve and hollow.
Kitty broke their kiss. “Stop,” she gasped, and his hand immediately stilled.
This was it. This was her line. And every single fiber within him wanted to erase it. To smudge it out like chalk dust. Kal swallowed and slowly, deliberately pulled his fingers back from sensitive flesh. He’d been so close to dipping inside.
Kitty’s eyes shuttered. “Gods save me,” she groaned. “I don’t think I’ve ever uttered a more loathsome word.” Her brows lowered, expression hazed by desire. And regret. She wanted this. It was the duty she’d carried since childhood that forbade her from seizing it.
Time for plan B.
“I have an idea,” Kal said, pulling out the item he’d retrieved from the old chest of belongings.
“More silverskin?” Kitty held up her arm, where a near-perfect replica of the cord he held still looped her wrist. The one he’d slipped over her hand in his bedroom.
What she didn’t know was that her cord was a copy.
One that Kal had fashioned a year or so ago.
The silverskin cord he’d just retrieved was his father’s.
“This is an original,” Kal explained. “My methods for crafting silverskin are almost perfect, but my father? He was a true artisan. His craftsmanship was unmatched.”
Kitty took the new length into her hands, running her fingers reverently over the shimmery material. “Why do we need this one?”
Kal was certain solid gold now ringed his pupils by the way Kitty seemed mesmerized by them. “Because this is the only material in Ilistaar capable of restraining me.”
Her mouth parted, lips swollen from their kissing. “Why do you need to be restrained?”
Kal held out one hand. “Because my father’s silverskin is stronger than my self-control,” he said. “We’re not finished here, and this is the only way to guarantee I won’t cross your line.”
She held his attention. “Tell me what to do.”
Kal showed her how to weave and fasten the silverskin cord about his wrists, cinching them tightly together. She watched intently and repeated his example. Her first effort was too loose, and he coached her through another try. On the fourth attempt, Kitty tightened the cord successfully.
Kal turned and presented his hands to her behind his back. She obligingly rewound the silverskin.
“Tighter,” he said.
Kitty pulled on the cord until it bit into his flesh.
He grunted his approval, then swiveled to face her, sitting back on his knees.
Divine have mercy. Her posture mirrored his, her back to the chaise lounge, hands resting on her thighs, her skin bare from the waist up.
A fine tremor worked its way down her frame.
Not from cold. Kal would bet all his most cherished possessions that Kitty was as fevered as he.
No, this was the tremble of anticipation.
This was uncharted territory for her, and while Kal was no virgin, he’d never given a woman this kind of vulnerability before.
“What now?” she asked.
“Come here,” he said, wetting his lips.
She scooted closer until her knees bumped his.
“I can’t touch you,” he said, “but you can touch me.”
“I…” Kitty’s eyes dropped from his face to sweep over his body. His bare chest. His tightened abdomen. Lower. Fuck. Now he was trembling.
Tentative as the touch of a feathered wing, Kitty ran her fingertips over his skin.
He watched her with a scorching fixation as she explored his body.
The tension in him was torturous. But this wasn’t about him.
Kal was just giving her permission. Getting her comfortable.
Letting her hands venture over his lips, stubbled jaw, and bunched shoulders.
Allowing her to trail a line of fire through the hair dusting his chest down to his navel.
Kal tracked her movements and saw when the fascination in her gaze turned to hunger.
Her hesitant curiosity became a budding confidence.
“Felíne.”
Kitty’s eyes shot to his. Kal savored the way she looked when he said her name. Her aroma intoxicated him. Her pheromones, combined with the lingering scent of the storm, woods, and his own scent rolling off her skin, made him dizzy with need.
“I want you to finish what I started,” he said.
Her hands stilled at his hips.
“You’re finding pleasure tonight,” Kal insisted, voice guttural. “If that prude hag of a Goddess won’t let me give it, you’re taking it for yourself.” He leaned forward, nose brushing the shell of her ear. “And I plan to witness the glory of it.”