Pleasures of the Night

by Sylvia Day

  She sighed and went back to waiting for the night’s Guardian to appear, telling herself that she had to move on and be grateful for what she had shared with Aidan, even if she still wanted more.

  His people were an odd bunch, approaching her so cautiously, clearly uncomfortable with their inability to integrate themselves seamlessly into her dream world. The Guardians requested that she perform odd exercises, but she remembered Aidan’s admonishment to reveal nothing of importance. She never complied or showed them the skills she practiced when she was alone. They, in turn, never revealed very much about themselves. It was a bizarre arrangement, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would go on.

  She also couldn’t help but wonder where Aidan was, and what he was doing. Was he fighting with his sword somewhere? Or living out some woman’s fantasy?

  The last thought made her shiver with a cold chill that swept across her skin in a wave of goose bumps. It was then that she lifted her gaze and saw him.

  Aidan.

  She blinked to make certain it was he, and when his lusciousness didn’t disappear, her heart raced with joy.

  He entered her dream with that carelessly arrogant stride she loved, but there was something different about him…an invisible mantle of great weight that seemed to hang on his shoulders. His chiseled features—so harshly, blatantly gorgeous—were set in hard, unyielding lines. His eyes cold. His steps relentless as he passed her and went to the stream.

  He began to strip off his garments, which were blackened by ash and singed in places. The golden skin of his back was bared to her hungry gaze, and then an ass so perfect it made her want to weep in awe. Still he said nothing. Lyssa struggled to think of something to say.

  Instead she made the stream deeper and the water warmer, and put soap on the pebbled bank to assist his bathing. She widened the blanket she rested on and pictured a picnic basket. Then wine. All the while she watched him, her blood heating and then becoming sluggish with desire. His large hands soaped his chest, gliding over mouthwatering pecs and ridged abs, his biceps flexing and bunching with latent power.

  He was a sexual fantasy brought to life. The sight of him did crazy things to her nervous system, but what most affected her was the desolation in his blue eyes. What had he seen? Where had he been? His clothes and demeanor made it seem as if he’d gone to hell and back. What had they done to him to make him so…empty?

  When Aidan sank beneath the surface to rinse his hair and then reemerged, the sunlight caught the droplets on his skin, turning him into some ancient pagan god. Dripping and unabashed, he stepped naked onto the bank and made no effort to retrieve his clothes. She drank him in, every inch of his tawny skin, her gaze lingering on the heavy cock and balls that were impressive even without an erection. He sank to his knees beside her and then caught her close before rolling to his back.

  They lay there, his embrace laced with an underlying possessiveness that thrilled her. His breath was hot at her crown, his hands kneading her spine. Inhaling the clean scent of his damp skin, Lyssa stroked his chest in a rhythmic, soothing caress and felt at peace for the first time since he left.

  “It was selfish of me to return,” he said finally, his soft brogue making her nipples ache.

  “If you need something from me, I want to give it to you.”

  “I’m going to hurt you, but I couldn’t stay away.”

  Lyssa lifted her head and made a soft moue at the torment so evident in his features. “Why?”

  Why would he hurt her? Why couldn’t he stay away?

  “I need you,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “I’m here.” She ran her fingers through his damp hair, then toyed with his pendant. “Tell me what happened.”

  His large hand slid up to cup the back of her neck, and then pulled her down to his waiting lips. “I ache for you.”

  He took her mouth with a deep glide of his tongue across hers.

  “Aidan…” She sighed, her craving for him nearly unbearable.

  “Do you love him?”

  She blinked in surprise at his question, but didn’t misunderstand. “Chad? No. We’re just friends, although he would like to be something more, and I’m considering it.”

  “Then let me have you again, one more time, before he takes you from me.”

  The raw plea made no effort to hide within the brogue. That he should need her so much…that he would come to her despite the rules that said he shouldn’t…that he would open himself to her so completely, broke open something inside her.

  She had heard tales of his prowess from the other Guardians. She knew how fearsome he was, how powerful. He was a near legend among his people, held up as a model for others to emulate. Captain Aidan Cross was said to have no weakness, no qualms, only a single-minded pursuit of the destruction of his enemy.

  But that wasn’t true. She knew him to be sensitive and kind, in his own brooding way.

  His solitary house on the hill, far away from the nearest community, told her how he kept to himself. He was estranged from his family. Reclusive and alone, he was said to be a far different man from the one who had graduated from Elite training with unbeatable scores and boundless optimism for the future.

  He leaned on no one, yet he reached out to her.

  “What can I do?” she asked, lost. This was not a medical problem with textbook answers. This was a wound to the soul, and she had no clue how to treat it.

  “Touch me.” As he caught her hand and held it over his heart, his gaze locked with hers. “Seduce me. Like you did that first night on the beach.”

  For a breathless moment she stared at him. Her fierce warrior retained his humanity, his generosity of spirit, his capacity for kindness. Perhaps it was because of his ability to feel and empathize that his calling wounded him so deeply.

  Self-preservation be damned. He needed her, and she would do whatever was required to make him whole again.

  She crawled over him, her hips pressed to his, her hands on his chest, her only desire to tend to him and console him. Bending at the waist, Lyssa licked his lips. “Like this?”

  “Yes…”

  Her fingertips found the flat points of his nipples and rubbed. “This, too?”

  He shivered, the sensation traveling up her arms and heating her blood. “Hell, yes…” His eyes drifted shut.

  Her lips to his ear, she asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

  There was no hesitation. “The color of your eyes.”

  She blinked, startled. “They’re shit brown.”

  “They’re beautiful,” he murmured, stroking her back in a rhythmic caress. “I look into them and forget everything.”

  Melting inside, she realized his tenderness was the catalyst her dreams had been missing her whole life. Only when she was with him did she feel the peace she needed to rest and recharge.

  She imagined away her clothes, leaving behind a chocolate-colored lace bra and thong set. In her waking life, she would never wear such an impractical bit of nothing, but this wasn’t her waking life. Aidan was the man of her dreams, in every possible sense.

  Wiggling her hips, she let him feel her suddenly bare skin against his rock-hard cock. “How about this?”

  When his thick lashes lifted, she found herself staring into fathomless blue of such stark intensity, her heart skipped a beat.

  “I’m not leaving this time.” His tone was a warning.

  “You better not,” she retorted. Reaching up, Lyssa cupped her breasts through her bra, kneading them, her thumbs and forefingers pinching her erect nipples.

  “Tease,” he growled, his eyes half lidded with lust.

  “Look who’s talking, Mr. Get-Her-Hot-and-Leave.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his beautifully sculpted lips. She traced their shape with a fingertip, admiring their perfection. As her mind filled with images of what she wanted him to do with that mouth, a sharp flare of awareness spread across her skin, making her sweat.

  “I’ll do all o
f that,” he murmured, cupping her bare buttocks in his hands and squeezing. “And so much more.”

  “Not fair that you can read my mind, but I can’t read yours.”

  “You’ll enjoy it better if I show you what I’m thinking.” His voice was pure sin and sex.

  Restless and achy, she wiggled deeper into his touch. “How much time do we have?”

  “Not enough.” Aidan rolled and lay beside her, one hand supporting his head, the other running along her side.

  She laughed and pushed his hands away.

  “You’re ticklish.” This time his smile broke free and transformed his features.

  Amazed, she touched his face because she couldn’t bear not to. “Christ, you’re gorgeous.”

  The smile faded, and she remembered—what she saw was not who he was. He was an alien.

  A sudden chill moved through her, making her shiver. Noting her discomfort, Aidan pulled her closer, sharing his warmth, and then she didn’t care about the fact that they came from different dimensions.

  “It doesn’t matter, Aidan.” Lyssa parted her lips in blatant invitation for a kiss, which he obliged with a tempered hunger that made her whimper and grow damp between her thighs.

  “You could look like a troll and have antennae,” she gasped when he allowed her to breathe, “and I’d still want you.”

  “Why?” His arched brow refuted her claim.

  “Because of the way you hold me, and the way you make me feel.” Tossing her leg over his hip, Lyssa pushed him to his back and came over him again. “You really don’t have antennae, right?”

  He grinned, and her heart stopped. “Right. Guardians are very similar to humans.”

  She licked the tip of his nose, then his lips, then his nipple, which hardened beneath her tongue. “I wanted you when it was dark in here,” she whispered. “Just as much as I want you now.”

  Sliding lower, she followed the happy trail of silky hair down the rippling muscles of his abdomen. He tensed and arched into her mouth, his hips thrusting in demand, making her feel every silken inch of hard cock between her breasts.

  “Want me to go lower?” she asked, knowing damn well he did.

  “I want you to make love to me. In whatever way you want.”

  Make love to me.

  Startled at his choice of words, she looked up the length of his torso to meet his gaze. Seeing the austere vulnerability in his handsome features, Lyssa’s eyes burned with tears, making his visage blurry. Suddenly their intimacy felt intensely, hauntingly personal.

  It would kill her when he left. She didn’t know how she would bear it.

  But he was worth it. Where he was concerned, she’d take what she could get and be glad of it.

  “I’ve come to realize that I feel the same,” he murmured in that deep rumble she loved.

  Aidan looked up at the blond beauty who lay atop him and was content for the first time in centuries. He felt the depth of Lyssa’s affection in every glance, every touch, every word she spoke, and he hungered for it. Needed it.

  “Hurry,” she said urgently, as impatient as he was to be connected in every way possible.

  He reversed their positions and ripped away the tiny scrap of lace that held her thong to her hip. Taking her mouth with fervent intensity, he reached between her legs and found her slick and hot. His cock jerked in eagerness to be inside her, to be one with her so that nothing could keep them apart.

  With reverent fingers he parted her, finding her clit and stroking it with cream-coated fingers, coaxing it from its hood. She moaned into his kiss, her legs falling open, her body undulating in rhythm with his touch.

  Leaning his weight on one arm, Aidan settled his hips between hers, his fingers leaving her swollen sex to take his cock in hand. He used the head of his dick to tease her, to arouse her, rubbing it through the liquid evidence of her desire. All the while his tongue fucked her mouth in a deliberate imitation of what was to come. What he longed for more than his next breath.

  And he wasn’t alone in his rampant hunger. Lyssa gave as good as she got.

  His thoughts were filled with the lewd and lascivious dialogue she was having in her mind, cravings so raw they drenched his skin with sweat. He’d discovered that facet of her sexual desire the first time they made love. Lyssa thought of sex in language so carnal, his balls drew up, aching to be emptied inside her. Her hands clenched and unclenched convulsively at his sides. He snatched one of her wrists and made her grip his cock.

  Tearing his mouth from hers, he bit her earlobe and growled, “Feel how hard you make me? I’d have to ride you for days to get my fill. Nonstop, deep, hard fucking.”

  Lyssa’s chest heaved with labored breaths and her skin became as hot as his, then hotter, so that it burned him. She was his oasis, his angel, but when it came to sex with him, she liked it just the way he did—no holds barred. No barriers. Just pure, raw carnality binding them together.

  “And you’re so tiny,” he taunted, feeling her desire swell as mental images acted out the words he spoke. “Your cunt so deliciously tight. I can’t wait to feel that again…The way your pussy grips my cock as I work it into you…”

  She turned her head and bit his neck with no gentleness, just before she lifted her hips and sucked the pulsing head of his dick just barely inside.

  “Start working, then, tough guy,” she challenged, breathless.

  Aidan shuddered violently as her drenched, hungry pussy closed tight as a fist around him. The control he’d felt just a moment ago fled, replaced by unadulterated lust. He gritted his teeth and began to pump his hips slowly, feeling her soft-as-velvet walls struggle to expand and take his cock.

  Her head fell back and she moaned. “Ah god…you feel amazing.”

  He wanted to reply, but couldn’t speak. So many women, so many years…None of them had ever taken him. His duty was to fill in dreams about other men. He was never himself, only a phantasm of someone else. Even when he’d lain with other Guardians, it wasn’t Aidan they wanted, but Captain Cross. The legend, not the man.

  No one knew how he’d come to hate that disconnection, how empty his life seemed to him now, how satisfaction with a job well done eluded him. Because it was never done. It was endless.

  I wanted you when it was dark in here, Lyssa had said.

  He believed her.

  She was the only one who knew him. She was the only lover who wanted him. The woman who used adoring fingertips to stroke his skin, who shifted her hips to make him more comfortable, who whispered her encouragement with no shame or insecurity.

  “Yes…” she breathed. “Give it to me.”

  He swiveled his hips and worked his cock deeper into her, his entire frame tensed against the pleasure that threatened to unman him.

  All the agony of the last two weeks fell away, the hard knots in his shoulders and back loosening from the sensual heat. There was only this moment. The moment when he sank balls-deep into a juicy cunt that belonged to a woman he admired and longed for. A woman who made him smile, and touched him with such reverence.

  Gratitude and affection closed his throat.

  Feeling the shaking of Aidan’s arms, Lyssa stared up into his flushed face and felt tears well. Deep inside her, he pulsed, every beat of his heart echoed in the throbbing of the hard flesh that filled her.

  “I’ve missed you,” she admitted, needing him to know that he was important to her.

  His jaw tightened, and he nodded. She knew he had missed her, too. Not just because he was here again, but because she felt it radiating from him. His need and longing were tangible.

  “Give me the top,” she murmured, gripping his shoulders as he complied.

  For a moment she stared, taking the time to absorb the feel of him beneath her and inside her. It was because of him that she couldn’t move forward with Chad. Chad couldn’t make her feel like this. Chad wasn’t the voice that had found her in the darkness, or the strong arms that held her in sleep, or the quiet strength that made he
r feel safe. Aidan was her anchor.

  “You were right,” she said softly, lifting onto her knees, her eyelids growing heavy at the feel of his cock caressing her as it withdrew.

  “About what?” His large body shuddered as she lowered again.

  “About making love.” Her hands stroked over the tops of his shoulders.

  “Lyssa…” He laced his fingers with hers, supporting her as she began to ride him with greater urgency. She whimpered in pleasure.

  “That’s it,” he crooned, watching her with intense blue eyes. “Take me any way you want.”

  Sweat beaded on his forehead as she began a steady rhythm of lifting and falling, stroking the thick length of his cock with the adoring clasp of her body. He was too big for her, his hips spreading her thighs wide enough that the lips of her cunt kissed the root of his erection with every deep lunge. A moan escaped, and then another, as she struggled to rub the spot inside that ached for him.

  “I—I can’t…”

  Knowing what she needed, Aidan took over, releasing her hands to hold her hips as he pumped upward in steady drives. It was perfect, the way he moved, the variations in the depths of his thrusts, the circling of his hips. She could barely breathe, barely think, her body helplessly lost to his skill.

  Leaning forward on all fours, she let him have his way, let him kill her with feeling and sensation, let him take her where he would. The sound of his luscious voice, husky with lust and purring heated sex words, made her cunt flutter along his cock, then clutch tightly in orgasm.

  “Ah god…!” The cry that left her throat was not her own. She didn’t know where it came from; it poured up from the same place as her pleasure, from deep within.

  “Sweet Lyssa,” he growled, his mouth to her ear as her arms collapsed, leaving her hips suspended by his strength alone. Now he took what he needed, using her body to satisfy his own, his face buried between her breasts, wallowing in her scent, as he drove upward into her spasming depths with long, deep plunges.

  His entire frame convulsed when he came, the words he groaned were in some ancient language she couldn’t understand. Except for her name. She heard it, heard the possessiveness in it, and she held him, rocked him, soothed him as he emptied himself inside her in hot, pulsing streams. Giving her all that he was. All that she wanted to keep.