Chapter 18
Iwas pulling a silk nightgown out of a drawer when Tynan came in. I felt his presence as a featherlight touch as he entered.
Hogan had finally given up and let me have some clothes in my room.
With Tynan around so much, I hadn’t wanted the Gnome there as often.
His cute little librarian kept him occupied, so it worked out well.
For major events and dinners, he was still dressing me, but he left me what he called “those play clothes” for day-to-day wear around the manor.
I had shorts and T-shirts for running and training, and a few nightgowns and teddies for the evenings.
I didn’t need the latter much, but I had them if I chose.
I was going to put one on until Tynan got there.
He was behind me before I could turn to acknowledge him.
His smell surrounded me, his breath warm on my neck.
I hadn’t seen him move closer. He was just there.
I turned to him, my face at his collarbone.
He eased back a little and I looked up, surprised.
He rarely moved away from me if he didn’t have to.
“You left with the Demon.” It was a statement, not a question, so I didn’t say anything.
I saw something in his face I didn’t recognize, and it made me anxious.
I didn’t want to tell him about my deal with Karackos.
I didn’t want him to worry about me any more than he already did or try to talk me out of going to Thule.
“I—” He studied my face for a moment. I didn't answer, trying to decide the best way to explain.
But kissed me tenderly before I could say anything more, his hand sliding into my hair, tilting my head.
I let myself fall against his tight abdomen and wrapped my hands around his back and pulled him closer. The kiss was melting my will.
“I see you won’t tell me what happened. So be it.” His dark brows were drawn tightly together. I wanted to soothe him, to tell him everything would be okay. But I had figured out yesterday that there was a good chance that nothing would ever be okay or normal in my life ever again.
“I’ll have so much to deal with, Tynan, not all of them you’ll need to know about.” I tried to make it sound like it was just another council meet issue or something.
“I know you’re going soon.” His cheek was so close to my lips I could taste him.
I let out my breath in defeat, but he kissed me again with all the emotion and tenderness he could muster. I felt every bit of it and I tried to say something else, but he stopped me, putting his masculine fingers over my lips.
He moved behind me and started to undo the little buttons down the back of the scarlet gown Hogan had fashioned for the evening.
As the last one came loose, the gown fell to the floor.
Featherlight kisses and gentle touches caressed my shoulders, sending goose bumps down my back.
His hands moved slowly around my waist and shivers ran through my body. My knees were on the verge of failing.
His fingers made their way to my clit, and he let his index finger dance lightly back and forth, stroking my passion as surely as he was stroking my clit.
I was wet already. His skin, his smell, always turned me on well before his touch had the chance.
I loved the way his body felt against mine.
He sizzled with passionate heat that went straight to my pussy when he was near.
I was deep into wanting to feel his cock in me when Tynan’s head jerked up suddenly. “Cliona,” he said, his voice harsh.
Cliona was his second-in-command. She was also older than dirt but looked no more than twenty-five.
He bent to get my dress for me and helped me partially button it up.
The knock at the door came just as he finished.
At least she had the decorum to knock. Most of my friends here didn’t.
Tynan opened the door for her and invited her in for a drink.
She came in, but I felt the same coldness from her as usual.
Where Tynan had adopted a mixture of old and new, Cliona had embraced everything about the modern world.
Her clothing, gadgets, and demeanor all screamed high-tech female.
She wore shiny, tight leather pants and a long dark coat at all times, regardless of the temperature.
The Vamp stood close to six feet, her dark brown hair straight and sleek and cut in a very fashionable bob that added to her youthful appearance.
Her eyes were the darkest green I had ever seen.
They turned black when she was riled up.
Nessum turned Cliona during the Witch Hunts in the early part of the Inquisition—another soul that got away.
She’d been accused of witchcraft, tortured and killed.
Many real Witches did lose their lives in those times, but she was just a servant woman accused by the jealous lady of the house.
Hence, she didn’t care much for Witches, so I didn’t have to be a psychologist to know she thought I was unworthy of the sacrifice Tynan had made for me.
I didn’t disagree with her, but I didn’t much care for being treated as if I were second class, either.
Then again, to her, I was second class. She also thought his affection for me showed a weakness in him. I’m sure there was more, but I didn’t care enough to find out.
I tried to excuse myself from the room so they could talk but Tynan insisted I stay.
Cliona spoke directly to him, all but ignoring my presence.
I left only to have Hogan bring us some food and more wine.
They didn’t eat but I was starving, so I had a nice meal of chicken and dumplings with fresh snap peas.
My eating also seemed to bother her. Maybe she missed the food.
Tynan always enjoyed watching me eat. I caught her glancing over at me and she made a disgusted face.
She left after an hour of discussion over some rogue band of new Vamps and her plans to stop them. She had help from others, and I had no doubt that she could handle the situation, but to be polite, I asked Tynan after she left, “You need to go to Russia?”
“Not at all.” He spun me around and started on my buttons. “Now, I believe I was trying to seduce you.”
“A fine job you were doing,” I said as the dress hit the floor for the second time this evening.
“Really? How so?” His breath was hot on my neck as he spoke.
“I think making you wait has wound up your motor, Lord Tynan.” I turned, only to be swept off my feet and taken to the bed.
“You think so?” He set me down, peeled his shirt off.
His movements were slow, deliberate. I watched his fabulous skin appear a little at a time.
His attention was on my face as I enjoyed the show.
The ripple of a warrior’s muscles—muscles that had spent days at a time marching and carrying supplies—was a glory to behold.
He was packed tight from top to bottom. What a sight it must have been to see him in his armor, the sun golden in his hair.
It made my mark—and everything south of there—burn for him as he stripped oh so slowly.
A gentle breeze made its way through the open windows. He reclined beside me, placing one elbow above my head and lying on his side. I started to say that I loved him, but he stopped the words with an amazing, tender brush of his soft lips.
The moonlight was dazzling on his pearly skin.
His warm fingers trailed down over my collarbone, over my naked breast. My nipples peaked as if to beg for more attention.
He repeated the trail on the other side of my body.
He lingered over my stomach, tracing the muscles, teasing my navel, stoking my fire and making me squirm.
I wanted to close my eyes, to experience the sensation of touch alone, to isolate the sweet torments that were raising gooseflesh.
But the greedy nature of the Witch wanted it all.
She wanted the sight of his sparking midnight-blue eyes, to memorize the rise and fall of his chest as he took in air, the twitch of heavy shoulder muscles as his arm made its journey.
This Witch wanted to see his wrists flex as he made tiny little swirls at my hip with his nails.
Such luxurious attention made every synapse in my body start to fire.
My whole body was alive and wanting. When he moved so he could trace the curve of my ankle, my toes curled, and he gave me a knowing smile, only encouraging my pussy to clench tighter in anticipation of where his teasing fingers might move next.
The whole experience was intense and relaxed at the same time.
He was in no rush. I was on the slow track to an intense orgasm with no hand on the controls.
The combination of the fabric of the bed, the smell of jasmine on the breeze, and the tickle of his breath on my skin was the strongest potion that had ever been mixed in the manor.
I was drunk with it. How long had he lingered, touching, nibbling, and kissing?
I had no idea and no care. I only knew that I wanted him.
I no longer cared about Thule or the Slaugh.
I only wanted to be wrapped in the strength of his arms, to have his thick legs pressing on the insides of my thighs, to feel his cock caressing the walls of my pussy.
My slow, relaxed breathing steadily increased as his touch firmed, reflecting his own need, which increased with each stroke of his hand.
He rubbed the inside of one leg and then the other, stopping just before touching my aching core.
The teasing made me shudder with the need to bridge the distance he’d intentionally left between his hands and my wet folds.
I worked hard not to speak, not to break the natural magic that came from two people truly enjoying the energy of each other.
His breathing was becoming deeper and more erratic. He dug his fingers into my hip bone and turned me onto my side, facing away from his body. He pulled me closer, his cock pressed into my lower back, demanding what his fingers had been enjoying for what seemed like hours.
Tynan nudged his knee between my legs, making me open for him. The head of his thick cock slid between my thighs, teasing, promising.
I finally gave up the silence to moan a quiet plea. “Tynan, please.”
“Please, what, my beautiful lover?”
I had started to wriggle. My body was pleading. My hips rotated in circles, urging him, begging him. “Love me. Fuck me.”
His grip tightened as he lifted my top leg back over his muscular thigh, and he slid inside. “Keena, your body fits mine so completely. My hands were sculpted to caress your skin. Being inside you is the only heaven I’ll ever need.”
I was stretched and full of him. It felt better than just fitting together. It felt as though his body was taking over mine and making me stronger, better, happier. I wanted this feeling to last forever and pushed away all reality that lay just outside this sanctuary.
His fingers tightened on my hip, and he quickened his thrusts, pulling me back into his body with each one.
The heat generated between our bodies was enough to fuel the fires of every house on the island.
Each sure thrust drove those flames higher, pushed my magic to call to his.
I tried to hold it back, to let the natural feel of flesh on flesh bring us to that beautiful plateau.
He pulled away, turning me into the sheets, spreading my legs farther as he arranged me flat on my stomach.
His movements were sure. His usual quiet, strong demeanor felt more looming than ever.
When he reentered me from behind, his length pushed deeply inside me.
My toes curled. Tynan gripped my hips again and drove his cock even deeper.
He held us impossibly still. I was full and met his moan with a pleading whimper.
Then he started a wonderful, slow grind.
I could feel his thighs against mine as he ground his hips against my ass.
His thick cock was rhythmically circling inside me and stroking spots that I had no idea were so sensitive.
He didn’t pull back. No thrusting was needed.
He simply lay flush atop my body and stroked over and over. He surrounded me. Was part of me.
My eyes were watering from the pleasure. “Tynan.” I moaned into the sheets as I clung to the mattress for purchase against his pressure. This was surely the end. Nothing would ever feel this good again.
There would be no way to recreate the magic of this moment.
Everything about this moment was perfect, the intensity of his lovemaking and the honesty in his emotions.
If I lived through tomorrow, this would still be as close to a perfect union as possible.
I strained to imprint the feeling on my brain before the orgasm overtook my body and shattered the moment in my mind.
When it hit, I pushed back against his body, trying to take more of him.
I wanted to be a part of his flesh, of his being.
His grip tightened on my hips and he groaned something in a language I didn’t recognize as I felt him swell and pulse against the straining muscles in my pussy.
We stayed locked in that position for a long time, breathing hard before he released my hips and eased us between the sinfully soft sheets.
I lay on my side, curled in his arms. I knew why he had gone so slow, been so loving with me.
He was thinking it might be our last night together.
He knew that I was going, and it frightened him.
I ached at the thought—ached with the knowledge that we would go through these emotions every time I had to face something dangerous.
My life would be filled with danger. I had little choice.
I could fight now and take the path the fates had set for me—or I could let Feldema win and take Doran’s place as High Priestess. That I couldn’t do.
The slow and tender lovemaking lasted throughout the night. He took his time, making sure not to miss touching or kissing a single inch of me. I thought he was trying to memorize every curve, every angle. I returned the favor.
The thunder rumbled low throughout the night, like the beginning of a far-off summer storm.