Moonshadow Part 19

She began to plead. "Nikolas-Nik-it's on the other side of this wall, I just don't know how to get there-"

You don't have to get anywhere, he whispered. Ease up, my Sophie. Let it come to you. I will bring it to you. I promise. Trust me. And when I bring it to you, I am going to come inside you. I'm so hard and ready for you. My skin burns with it. Feel the heat coming off my skin. I am on fire for you.

She touched his face, and he knew she could feel it. He had never burned so hot for anyone before. She lifted her head to stare at him.

Their eyes met. Nikolas touched the cool, starlit magic in her gaze with the dark blaze in his own. There was some kind of message that pa.s.sed between them, some kind of truth.

Then her head fell back onto the pillow, and she cried out as she climaxed. He felt it ripple through her inner muscles. Her tiny, delectable c.l.i.t pulsed. Fierce emotion roared through him.

He had given that to her, no one else, and in giving it, her climax became his. He claimed her pleasure, owned her response in that moment.

Mine, he thought. Mine.

He forced himself to wait, wait, wait, until the rhythm of her pleasure began to subside. Only then did he rise up to cover her body with his and unleash his own need. Kissing her, biting at her mouth, he took his c.o.c.k and rubbed it against her entrance.

Reaching down between their bodies, she welcomed him and helped to guide him in. Then he slipped in, just the tip, and as he broke through her entrance and felt her body grip his most sensitive place, a groan broke out of him. Unable to move forward, unable to pull away, he froze.

She whispered, "What is it?"

"I'm back in that place again," he said between his teeth, resting his forehead on hers. "I don't know if I can be gentle any longer."

She laughed, and it was a completely joyous sound, as she threw her arms around his neck, her legs around his hips and hugged him with her whole body. Putting her lips to his ear, she gasped, "You need to go, let's go. Do it, Nikolas, cut loose, I want you to f.u.c.k me so hard right now."

She incited him to riot, and he had no brakes, no barriers left, so riot he did.

The fire in his body took over. He plunged into her, all the way, to the hilt, and she was so hot, so tight, just exactly what he needed, he had to pull out and plunge all the way back in again. She met him thrust for thrust, rocking up with her hips as he hammered down, and it was so d.a.m.ned perfect he didn't know how he could ever stop. Gripping her by the hip, by the breast, swearing in her ear, he f.u.c.ked her while the blaze inside him built and built until it peaked in a fiery gush.

His climax roared up the base of his spine. Helpless in the grip of it, he thrust and thrust again with every new spurt. She ran her hands down his back, holding him to her, rocking with him until the rhythmic jerk of his c.o.c.k began to subside.

Either he was shaking, or she was. His lungs pumped hard like bellows, while she stroked his back, his shoulders, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck until finally his climax began to subside.

For a moment he was gripped with the strangest compulsion. He wasn't done, he wasn't done. He needed more, to pin her down and claim her until there was no doubt left anywhere that she was his. His c.o.c.k still felt hard as a spike and as agonized.

He tensed, frozen on some kind of precipice.

Then, as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, the moment pa.s.sed. "This was wonderful," she whispered. "Thank you."

The words grounded him, not much but just enough. Carefully he backed away from the internal precipice as he withdrew from her even though every muscle in his body screamed at him to stop, change course, claim her until they both knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his alone.

He paused long enough to kiss her lingeringly on the mouth, down her throat, and finally he pressed his lips against the scar above her left breast, where her heart beat strong and true.

"You are so beautiful," he told her in a quiet voice. "What a surprise this night has been. You've given me more pleasure than I've known in years. Good night, my Sophie."

He shouldn't say those words. She wasn't his Sophie. As she had said earlier, they both knew what this was. This was a stolen night of pleasure, nothing more, nothing else. They were little more than strangers, their lives lived on two separate trajectories.

This was not a mating. There would be no claiming her for his own even if she would have welcomed such an outlandish proposition. Yet his Wyr side didn't understand logic and reason. It pounded through his blood, urging him to take her again, to mate with her.

But Wyr mated for life, and he had no room in his life for that kind of commitment. He had already given his life to his people. The thought of taking a steady lover was laughably inappropriate. The thought of mating, utterly impossible.

He had never been gifted with such an experience. He had never felt such a driving compulsion to mate with anybody before, and he accepted the rare gift for what it was-an arrow through the heart.

As she realized he didn't intend to stay, the light in her eyes dimmed, and it was another arrow to the heart. She deserved to be held, in that moment more than ever, and she deserved to explore the new realm of pleasure he could give her as he brought her to climax over and over until she fell into exhaustion. Every instinct in his body told him to go take her in his arms and refuse to let that light in her eyes die.

Without another word, he turned his back on those instincts and on her, picked his clothes off the floor, and shut the door on his way out.

Well, it was a good thing they'd had a clear understanding of what they were getting themselves into when they had s.e.x.

Otherwise, Sophie would be feeling let down and disappointed that Nikolas chose to walk out the door rather than stay and enjoy more time together. If her vision blurred with wetness, it was because she was so tired. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that he chose not only to leave her bedroom but to leave the cottage as well.

Almost as if he couldn't get away from her fast enough.

As she heard the cottage door close, she rolled over to hug a pillow. Gah, she would never understand men. As far as she was concerned, they'd had a pretty spectacular time. He had been...

He had been so much more than she had expected. So much more considerate, tender, and pa.s.sionate.

She closed her eyes, but she couldn't block the images that played through her mind.

His face as he moved inside her, fierce and gentle, determined and sensual. They had barely gotten started, d.a.m.n it. She had things she wanted to do to him. Really cool, s.e.xy, fun things. She had been hungry to try them, and she was still hungry. But apparently he wasn't interested enough in exploring anything further with her.

Of course he wasn't.

He was no longer the a.s.shole she had thought he was. There was something decent, true, and fine in him, and just as she glimpsed it, it moved away.

His scent was still on her skin. She loved his scent. Loved it. She was never going to get to sleep if she kept experiencing his scent, as if he were still with her, while she fantasized about taking his c.o.c.k into her mouth.

Pushing out of bed, she grabbed a nightshirt and went into the bathroom to take a shower. When she was through and fragrant with her shower soap, she padded into the kitchen to drink the tumbler of wine still left on the counter.

Sipping it, she stood at the kitchen sink, looked out the window, and saw him. The moon still looked quite full, and the scene outside was almost as bright as day.

Nikolas had dressed, and he stood with his hands on his hips near one end of the manor house, his back to the cottage as he looked out over the landscape. Instinctively Sophie glanced at the corner of the kitchen where his sword harness had been, but it was missing. She felt better knowing that he was armed even if the cloaking spell prevented her from seeing it on him.

He had so many bad memories wrapped into this place. He had so much history, period. She barely knew him, so why did the sight of him standing alone out in the night tug so hard at her emotions?

She felt a pull to go outside and join him that was so strong she almost gave in to it. But he had been the one to leave her, and with a stinging realization, she knew he would not welcome her presence.

As she finished the wine in the tumbler, the monkey came into the kitchen, jumped onto the counter, and sat looking out the window beside her. She said, "Robin, I wish I knew how to help him."

The monkey took her hand and patted her fingers.

"I know," she said. "I'm doing what I can. And he didn't ask me to do anything more anyway." Forcing herself to look away from the lone figure outside, she turned her attention to the puck. He seemed bigger, more substantial, and for the first time, she could feel a hint of his Power. Pleased, she said, "You're getting better."

He nodded.

"I'm so glad." Pa.s.sing a hand gently down the back of his head, she rinsed out her gla.s.s and set it in the sink. Then she went to bed.

For the first time, she realized somebody had made the bed, and she knew it hadn't been her, and she was pretty sure it hadn't been Nikolas.

She and Nikolas had made love on top of the bedspread. Made love, huh. She meant they'd had (tremendous, mind-blowing, screaming, utterly fantastic, wildly pleasurable) s.e.x, and it had lived up to every single one of those adjectives. Every single one and more.

Her d.a.m.n eyes threatened to dampen again. She whispered to herself, "Be careful what you ask for."

Robin slipped into the room. The monkey jumped to the headboard and settled into a sitting position. Now that she knew he wasn't a monkey or a dog, it was probably weird to let him spend the night in her room, but he never invaded her privacy or tried to hang around when she was dressing or undressing, and she got comfort from the companionship. She thought he got comfort from it as well.

Climbing under the covers, she curled on her side and fell fast asleep.

This time she wasn't nearly so lucky in her rest. This time the nightmares came.

She never outran the gunman. That was not how her story had gone, and her body knew it. The gunman chased her and chased her through the dark, shadowed warehouse where they had cornered him, and she could never remember to pull the shadows around her before he brought his gun up to point it at her.

The tat-tat-tat of gunshot had grown all too familiar. And then she was falling again. Still, somewhere in her mind, she was always falling.

The quiet sound of voices woke her, but G.o.d, she didn't want to be awake. Rolling over, she stuck her head under one of the pillows and tried to go back to sleep.

Voices?

Even as she thought the question, the answer came to her. Gawain had arrived, and he and Nikolas were somewhere close by, talking. The sound of their conversation didn't come through the window, so there weren't many options-they were either in the kitchen or the sitting room.

Once awareness had come so forcefully, she knew she would never get back to sleep. Swearing under her breath, she got out of bed and dressed. There were places all over her body, intimate places, that ached with a sensitized tenderness that hadn't been present yesterday.

Her nipples felt the rasp of cloth as she donned her bra, and the muscles of her inner thighs were sore. The folds of her private flesh felt full and delicate. Even as memory flashed through her mind of his head between her legs, of the sensation of him moving inside her, a pulse of renewed hunger made her ache. Even though her mind wanted nothing more than to move on and forget the sense of abandonment she had felt the night before, her body remembered what had happened, and it wanted more.

Dressed again in her flannel pants, soft, long-sleeved shirt, and flip-flops, she left the bedroom to go in search of coffee. Oh, right. There was no coffee. This day had barely begun, and it was already a pain in the a.s.s.

Nikolas and Gawain sat at the kitchen table. As she appeared, Gawain gave her a smile. "h.e.l.lo again."

She found she was unable to snarl at the friendliness in his expression, so she raised a hand and grunted in greeting as she made a beeline for the teakettle. Cautiously she touched the side. It was hot. After checking to make sure it had water, she lit the burner underneath it. As she turned to search for a mug and a tea bag, Nikolas stepped in front of her.

"Unh," she said, checking so she didn't b.u.mp into him.

He frowned at her, dark eyes sharp. "What is the matter with you?"

"Huh?" She didn't have the energy to face him first thing, not after last night. Stepping around him, she muttered in a husky voice, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She found a mug and the box of tea. When she turned back to the kettle on the stove, he stood so close the sense of his nearness abraded her already raw nerves. His frown had turned fierce. He touched the delicate skin underneath her eyes.

"You look awful. The shadows under your eyes have gotten worse, not better. Are you sick?" he demanded.

She jerked back from his touch. "First, get out of my face. Second, you didn't buy coffee. Third, don't talk so loud-or better yet, don't talk at all. Fourth, I didn't sleep well. I usually don't. Mornings are not my best time. Fifth, did I mention the fact that you didn't buy coffee?"

"Multiple times," he snapped.

"Your presence offends me." She patted her chest. "It literally hurts right here. Not you, Gawain," she said in an aside. "It's nice to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Sophie." Gawain sounded amused, but she noticed with grat.i.tude he also kept his voice at a quiet enough level that it didn't sound abrasive. Looking pointedly at Nikolas, he said, "I thought you said you two were getting along better."

"That was apparently before I forgot to buy coffee," Nikolas replied dryly. He plucked the mug and tea bag out of her hand. "I will make you a cup."

"Make two while you're at it," she muttered. "I'm going to need a second one."

Gawain said in a diffident voice, "La.s.s, I hate to bother you, especially right now, but is there any way you could do your silver null spell on me so I can stay?"

"d.a.m.n it," she muttered. "Of course. I'll be right back."

She left to retrieve her vial of colloidal silver, and when she returned, Gawain held out his hand without a word. She cast the spell as she painted the rune, and after she finished, Nikolas set a hot, bracing mug of tea on the table in front of her. She latched on to it and didn't let go until she had drunk the whole thing. He had added milk and sugar too, and she decided she liked the combination.

Giving her s.p.a.ce to wake up properly, the men resumed talking about people she didn't know, but she presumed she would probably meet in the next few days. Gawain stood and worked at the stove, and within a few minutes the smell of frying bacon and eggs filled the air.

When she had drained the first mug of tea, without a word, Nikolas took it from her and set another full mug on the table near her elbow. This time Gawain also slid a plate filled with a hot, cooked breakfast in front of her.

She stared at the plate. Bacon, sausages, beans, eggs, fried mushrooms, sliced tomatoes, and what looked like fried bread. It looked like enough food to feed someone twice her size. For a moment her stomach reacted with an uncertain queasiness, then sharp, genuine hunger set in. The last time she had eaten a proper meal had been two nights ago, in the pub.

She fell on the food and practically inhaled it while Nikolas and Gawain also ate. The talk fell away, and for a while all three existed in the quiet comfort of the sunny kitchen as they finished breakfast. To her own astonishment, she ate everything on her plate, and afterward she finished the second mug of tea too.

Finally she felt comfortably full and alert. She pushed that empty mug away too and looked up to discover both men watching her, Gawain with a slight smile, while Nikolas wore a brooding expression she didn't know how to interpret.

She knew what his mouth tasted like. She knew how his hair felt, as the short, silken strands slipped through her fingers. Scowling, she averted her face and said to Gawain, "Thank you for breakfast. That was amazing."

"You're welcome, la.s.s." Gawain stood. "I need to get the packages in the storage compartment of my bike. Be right back."

After he walked out, Nikolas said, "Why don't you sleep well?"

"It's just a thing," she said. "It's who I am. It's not a big deal."

"You say that a lot," he told her. "I don't believe it now, any more than I did before."

She remembered the last time she had said it and how he had brought her to climax in spite of herself. A flood of warmth washed over her face. "Well, sometimes when I say it," she said between her teeth, "it's a boundary that you're not supposed to cross. This is one of those times."

She rose to slap their dirty plates together in a stack and carried them to the sink. He wasn't going to let it go, she just knew it. They were rubbing each other the wrong way this morning, and this wasn't going to end well.

But just in that moment, Gawain stepped back inside and the invisible pressure that had been simmering in the kitchen eased.

He set the packages on the table and unwrapped them while she finished clearing the table. When she started to wash the dishes, Gawain said, "Sit down, la.s.s. You're helping us so much you don't need to do the washing up too. I'll do those in a bit."

"You can't," she pointed out. "Not and keep the null spell active."

By the chagrin that pa.s.sed over his face, she saw that he had forgotten. Nikolas stood. He told her, "Leave that for now. Come show us how to make the colloidal silver."

"And that leads us to something we'd been talking about before you came to join us," Gawain said. "The rent we'll be paying you is more than fair, but we should be also paying you for your other services-for this and for helping us to explore the possibilities in your witchy house."

She couldn't wash dishes and have this conversation with them at the same time. Turning her back to the sink, she wiped her hands on a towel while she shook her head.

"My consulting services cost the LAPD a hundred grand a year," she said. "But that's not what we agreed upon. I'm teaching you the colloidal silver and null spell combination, and in return, you're giving me a handgun with silver bullets and the legal right to use it. As far as exploring the manor house goes, I want to do that anyway. It's my house. I should know its strengths and pitfalls and if there's anything of worth inside that I might want to sell. If you want to engage me for anything else, we can talk about a consulting fee at that time. For now, the bargains we've struck are more than fair."

Nikolas said, "Actually, there is something else we would like for you to consider doing. We want you to cast your runes and do a reading for us."

She raised her eyebrows. "I guess that changes things a bit." Looking from Nikolas to Gawain, she added, "I'm all about monetizing my skill set, but just doing a reading for you is not that big of a deal."