Chapter 10
RHIANNON
The fact that it had been lunchtime when we’d gone to Triomphe, and now it appeared to be the dead of night walking back was disturbing. Despite my immortality, this place was starting to frighten me. Maybe that was why I was clinging to Eryx Necroline like a helpless schoolgirl.
Keep telling yourself that, a voice in my head sneered.
So what if it felt good to hold his hand on the street. It had been years, decades, since I’d had anything more than a few nights with someone. Holding hands, even here, wherever this was, felt like an experiment.
I tried to focus on the street as we walked, rather than the way Eryx’s big hand swallowed mine. The near-oppressive heat hadn’t disappeared because the sun went down. It was humid to the point that I couldn’t tell if the water beading on my skin was sweat or from the air itself.
Steam rose from the hot streets, billowing into unearthly mist. Old neon signs flickered in the fog. The sounds of the city were there, but it was as though I heard them from a distance, almost like hearing traffic on the other end of a phone conversation, in the background.
“Sound is strange here,” I murmured, worrying that something might shift on us again. This place was making me anxious.
Eryx looked back at me, his hand tightening around mine. “It’s the dead,” he explained.
I looked around, but neither saw nor sensed any spirits. “Where are we?” I whispered. “Really?”
Eryx took a deep breath, and despite the heat, pulled me closer to his body so that our hips touched as we walked, his arm slipping around me.
I tried not to sigh at the feeling of his fingers spreading over the small of my back.
“It’s hard to say,” his deep voice rumbled, sending vibrations through me.
“The best I can tell right now, is that the haunting is strong enough to conjure up a pocket realm of sorts.”
I frowned. Things like that weren’t really possible, even for mages. Not that I knew of anyway. “I don’t know if you’ve read DeWitt and Bassey on this,” I said, naming two of the most prominent necromancer scholars in Aradios.
Eryx chuckled. “Of course I have. I consulted on their paper about clairsentience fifteen years ago.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “You were the Necroline consult credited on that paper?”
He nodded, arching an eyebrow at me. “Don’t look so surprised that they’d work with me, Bronte. I’m smarter than I look.”
The way he said that infuriated me. Who’d been making him feel like he wasn’t smart? I tightened my grip on his hand, yanking him back towards me. “I’m not surprised,” I hissed. “I know you’re smart.”
It was his turn to look surprised. He took another step towards me, examining my face as though searching for evidence. Of what, I wasn’t sure.
“I was surprised you’d work with them,” I added. “The Aradios necromancers are assholes.”
He chuckled softly, his eyes not leaving mine.
His head bent slightly, as though he couldn’t help but get nearer to me.
“That they are. Everyone in Aradios thinks a little too much of themselves.” He paused, his free hand rising between us, grazing my chin, just slightly before drawing back. “Not you, of course.”
“I live here now,” I reminded him. “I was never really one of them.”
His head tilted slightly. “No,” he murmured, almost as though I wasn’t there. “You’re too good for them.”
“Don’t do that,” I whispered back. “Don’t put me on a pedestal.”
“Why not?” he asked, his face getting closer to mine by the second. “From where I stand, it’s where you belong.”
I grabbed his shirt, fisting knots into the thin fabric as I pulled him down to me. “I belong right here.”
His face lost its sultry, languid quality, his eyes sharp now as he assessed me.
That kiss in Triomphe had been more than good, it had been a promise of what might be possible for us.
My heart raced with anticipation. So slowly, I almost didn’t notice it happening, he unhooked my hands from his shirt, kissing one lightly on the knuckles, before taking the other and pulling me along.
“Let’s get back to the house,” he said, his tone a little too firm.
What had almost just happened between us? Disappointment flooded me, a touch of embarrassment stinging palpably in the flush of my skin, ringing through my chest. I hated how I couldn’t read him. One moment it seemed clear that he wanted me, and then the next it was confusing again.
Was he sending mixed signals, or was I just broken? The thought nearly broke my heart. By the time he was opening the front door to Oleander Cottage, I realized I’d walked the rest of the way back to the cottage in a haze of self-pity.
It was an ugly feeling, and I was all too prone to it these days. Second guessing myself so deeply that I simply lost track of what was happening around me. It was putting me off my game.
Eryx didn’t follow me upstairs. It probably hadn’t been five hours since I’d gotten out of bed, but it was dark out and I was utterly exhausted.
Maybe I just needed to roll with this and start over.
I changed into a nightgown after washing my face and brushing my teeth, and then crawled into bed, feeling so tired I thought I might pass out the second my head hit the pillow.
His footsteps on the stairs sent my heart racing. I listened as he showered. The light in the hallway went off, but I could make out the outline of his form as he walked down the hall, passing the stairs, coming straight for me.
My entire body tensed as he climbed into bed next to me. The bed was too small for two people as long as we were. The second his full weight was on the mattress, we fell into one another.
He wasn’t wearing any clothes.
My brain nearly shorted out.
It was possible he was wearing another pair of those infernal boxer briefs, but I wasn’t about to stick my hand between us to find out. I froze, unsure what to do. I didn’t want to scramble away from him. That seemed rude.
But if I just cuddled in… what message would that send?
I’d said he should sleep up here, but…
His hands were gentle as he turned me onto my side, spreading the covers out evenly over us as he fit my back against his chest. And then one arm slid under my pillow, cradling my head.
“Is this comfortable?” he asked, the other hand sliding up the outside of my thigh, onto my waist.
Comfortable? It felt like my skin might burst into flames. All I could think of was how hard he’d been in the dressing room at Triomphe as he’d kissed me. “Yes,” I whispered, my mouth gone bone dry.
Behind me he settled in, one of his legs twining through mine. This was not casual cuddling. As his thigh caressed mine, the hand on my waist slipped down to my belly. “What about this?” he breathed into my ear, causing me to arch my back, a soft moan slipping from my lips.
His fingers stroked long, slow lines down my abdomen, and then back up again, grazing the undersides of my breasts. There was no mistaking his touch for an accident. He meant to touch me exactly this way.
“Yes,” I managed to answer, flooded with need.
His hips moved behind me as he pulled me closer, the hard length of him pressing into my ass. The messages weren’t mixed now. I could feel how much he wanted me. He wouldn’t touch me like this if he didn’t, would he?
“Go to sleep, Rhiannon,” he whispered. “You need the rest.”
“I don’t.” I was practically begging.
And then his fingers stopped their teasing, pressing me harder against him as his breathing slowed behind me. My skin burned with need, but I willed my hips to stay still.
“You do,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep already. “Just let me hold you tonight.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to make my case for ripping all our clothes off and fucking until the sun came up. But then he said just one more word, “Please.”
There was so much need in his voice, and I remembered what he told me in Delicia’s—about the lovers who used him for cheap thrills. I took a deep breath, allowing my body to relax against his.
A deep, satisfied sigh, accompanied by his rumbling hum of pleasure, vibrated through me. “You feel so good,” he murmured, already half asleep as his hand dropped lower onto my belly, cupping the curve of my flesh as the rhythm of his breath rose and fell in even turns.
My eyes were heavy, though my body still throbbed with unmet need. It was maddening how tired I was, and yet all I could think about was having his hands and mouth on me. If his thigh moved even an inch more, he’d find out just how much I wanted him.
I hadn’t expected him to follow me up here, and I almost never slept in anything at all. The nightgown had been a courtesy, in case there was an emergency in the night. There was nothing between the bare skin of his thigh and how absolutely wild the hand caressing my belly was making me.
But if he needed rest, I needed to let him get it. He was processing a lot of spirit energy, and that took a lot of effort. So I took another deep breath and shifted my weight slightly away from him to get comfortable enough to sleep.
He moved with me, his leg pushing between mine. Our combined movement at just the wrong moment sent him sliding directly between my legs. I couldn’t help but gasp as his skin met the spot between my legs that was positively drenched with need.
Behind me, he froze, his breath suddenly ragged. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck.”
I wasn't sure what to do. A moment ago, he’d acted like he wanted to sleep. But now all I wanted was to ride the thigh pressing into my pussy.
“Rhiannon,” he groaned, his erection pressing harder into my ass. “I’m trying so hard to control myself.”
Before I could say a word, he moved, the hand on my belly disappeared, then sliding onto the thigh he now had propped up with his own, spreading my legs.
He pushed the covers back, letting the hot air of the attic bedroom kiss my bare pussy.
I could feel him pull away from me, looking at me in the dim light of the bedroom.
“You are making this so difficult,” he groaned. “How am I supposed to sleep knowing you’re this wet?” Before I could answer, he whispered. “Were you like this when I was kissing you in Triomphe?”
“Yes,” I answered, without hesitation.
He caressed my ass, brushing soft kisses down the back of my neck. His thigh moved back between my legs. “Ride me,” he commanded. “I want to see you come on my leg.”
It was all the permission I needed. In one smooth motion, I rolled away from him, repositioning myself so I faced him, pushing him back onto the bed. “If you want to look at me while I ride you, I don’t think you can be back there.”
His eyes shone with lust in the dim light of the bedroom. The glow of the city outside was enough to show me that he was, indeed, wearing those tight boxer briefs. It was hot in the bedroom, sweltering, in fact.
I crawled over him, straddling his hips, grinding my bare pussy down on the fabric his cock was straining against. He was bigger than I’d imagined and as my skin made contact with him, we both let out strangled noises.
I pulled my nightgown off and he lost all semblance of control, pulling me down against him.
As my breasts grazed his chest, he thrust his hips up against me, our mouths meeting in a tangled frenzy.
I clung to him as we moved against one another, frantic to touch as much of each other as we could.
Slick sweat beaded over both our bodies, my belly and breasts sliding more easily over the firm planes of his body.
The friction between us was too much for me to bear as he dragged us into a seated position, his mouth closing around one of my nipples. I tumbled over some edge I didn’t even know was possible this fast, my hips unable to stop seeking the intense pleasure I got from feeling how hard I made him.
He pulled my hair, his mouth unlatching from my nipple to suck gently at the skin of my neck. “You taste so good,” he groaned. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”
White light flashed behind my eyes as he urged me on. “That’s it,” he commanded. “Make a mess of me, baby.”
A feral scream came tumbling out of me as he held me tighter against him, my body shaking as he pushed back against my still gyrating hips. When my body slowed, he smiled at me. “That’s what you needed to sleep, wasn’t it?”
I looked into his eyes, confused. “What about you?”
He brushed my hair back from my face. “I got everything I needed just now. Time to sleep.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but my body was going limp with spent energy. He lay me down gently, then got up. There were soft noises in the dark. The sound of running water in the bathroom, and the soft click of a glass being set down on the bedside table before he climbed back into bed with me.
This time, there was nothing between us as he gathered me to him. I stopped fighting sleep, letting it take me without thinking anymore about what any of this meant.