Beauty's Secret (Beast and Beauty Book 2)
Page 9
"My fierce desert lioness," he murmured. "Now, I think we both have work to return to, don't we?"
"Yes." I didn't want to work, though. I wanted to drag him back to our cabin and make wild love to him, until I had not an ounce of energy left.
He kissed my brow. "Go on, then. Hop to, back to your duties."
A sweet tingle of anticipation bloomed in my chest. I smiled at him—finding a real smile this time—and happily agreed. He saw me out, and even after he'd shut the door to the meeting room I stood in the dim, cool passageway, eyes closed, fingering the end of my braid and glowing inside.
My barbarian. My perfect, adoring barbarian. How I love you.
I'd thought it before. Perhaps I'd even said the word out loud to him. Our arrangement as Master and pet had only been intended to last as long as we were forced together by circumstance in Alaric's castle, prisoners of the savage desert and its cruel customs, pressing in on us both. We were neither of us prisoners anymore, though.
So... how much longer will Bannon find his own satisfaction in these roles?
The beast within me was off its leash. It prowled and purred with its freedom, and perhaps it tested the limits a little more now, pushing the boundaries, seeing if the Master would still—could still—contain it. Ultimately, though, I still craved Bannon's touch. His tenderness and affection, yes, but also his savage, salacious domination. As we drew father and farther away from the strange events which brought us together, would he still feel such primal passions?
Schala gave a rasping mew at my feet. I crouched to gather her into my arms and buried my face against her fur. I'd be late to meet Ashe and Rayyan again, and it would be one more mark against me in these horrible first few days. Only a few more hours, though, and I'd be back in my barbarian's arms. Alone with him, safe from all this bad luck, and free to express my gratitude in all the ways I wished.
I heaved a sigh of relief. As I stooped to put Schala down, though, the caracal arched her back, and her soothing purr turned into a low, ugly growl. I blinked, and followed her gaze down the passageway, toward the door leading back onto the deck.
Sunlight streamed in the single porthole, illuminating a swirl of golden dust motes and casting a bright circle upon the rich wood. At first, I saw nothing there to set the cat on edge—and then, a movement caught my eye, just the subtlest shifting of darkness behind the ray of light.
A flash of feral eyes, like distant, glowing moons. A figure standing just out of sight.
I took a step forward, wary heat rising at the back of my neck, and opened my mouth to demand they identify themselves.
But the shadowy creature was gone.
Chapter Ten
The moment Bannon arrived in his cabin, I rose to meet him, crossing to him in a single, purposeful stride.
"Sir, I have to tell you—"
He silenced me with a finger to my lips, then he replaced it with his own, cradling my head in his hands as his tongue found mine.
"Later," he murmured as we parted. "Undress."
A shiver traveled through my body. I stepped out of his embrace, taking his hands in mine and meeting his eyes. For a moment, I debated refusing. Insisting he listen first, as I told him about the ropes and the strange, shadowy figure in the passageway, and of the way the doors to the master bedchamber had slammed on me, and everything, everything going wrong since I'd left Alaric's castle.
The heat in his gaze stole away the impulse. Putting aside my fears, I obeyed his order, my fingers coming to the cords lacing up my bodice.
He watched me with a handsome and hungry look as I slipped out of my clothing piece by piece, until I stood perfectly naked before him. Then he advanced on me, a patient predator closing in on his prey, forceful and looming in the smallness of the space. His hands closed around my wrists and he bore me down onto the bed, kissing me over and over.
"Ah, my Sadira."
He held me down, pinning my wrists between my breasts with one hand, while the other caressed my cheek. "My beautiful lioness. My goddess of the sands."
"Sir..."
I returned his kisses, full of a surging desire, pressing my body to his. The scents of crisp autumn and fire, and strong, sweet liquor surrounded me, comforting and delicious. His grip on my wrists tightened. I wriggled, giving up a tiny groan as he traveled down my body with his lips.
I gave a soft gasp, surrendering to a lovely quiver when he teased my navel piercing with his tongue. His free hand slid between my thighs.
Bannon entered me with two strong fingers, circling my clitoris with his thumb. I breathed out his name in a gentle sigh, clenching and unclenching my fists.
"Good girl."
Still holding me, he moved to lie between my legs, and lowered his face to my sex. The first wonderful stroke of his tongue brought up a swell of joy from deep inside me, and I pressed to him, needful for more. He teased and feasted upon me, laving the length of my pussy before planting a slow, loving kiss on my clit, and descending again for more. His tongue slipped inside me, making me twist and groan his name, but his grip on my wrists remained tight, keeping me his prisoner.
"Bannon..." I whispered, then fell into a low sound of delight. "Barbarian... Master..."
He rose from between my thighs, scrubbing the glistening wetness from his mouth, and moved into place on top of me. His grip on my wrists tightened, squeezing to the point of pain, and I hitched in a short breath. At last, he released my wrists, but not to free me. Instead, he took each of my hands in his and held them down against the bed on either side.
When he kissed my lips, I tasted my own lush desire. Bannon uttered a rumbling growl, nuzzling at my neck and planting more kisses along my ear, my cheek, my jaw, down to my collarbone.
At last, he entered me, and his cock filled me with perfect, urgent need.
"Oh, love..." he groaned.
I wrapped my legs around him, and our bodies moved into a gentle rhythm. A wonderful glow of sweet pleasure came to life inside me.
We moved slow, indulging, chasing a thrilling, impassioned climb. Our lips, our hips—his fingers like iron keeping me locked in place. Thighs flexing, abdomens tense, we gasped and sighed each other's names.
"Master…"
"Sadi..."
When Bannon's pace increased. I met him eagerly, embracing the full joy of him moving with me, within me. His thumbs dug into the tender insides of my wrists and he grunted, thrusts deepening. With panting breaths, I urged him on, murmuring, begging, until my orgasm kindled to life and raced toward completion.
"Barbarian!" I rasped in his ear as my nails dug into my palms. "Oh, my love, I'm coming... I'm—"
And as the first surge of climax overtook me, he let go of one wrist to tangle his fingers in my hair, pulling tight, making me turn my face up to his so he could kiss me, tongue storming my mouth. He buried himself inside me and his cock throbbed, hot and hard, flooding me with his seed as I hit a dizzying height, crying out in wordless rapture.
"I love you." I kissed him over and over, as he kept me pinned to the bed. "I love you... oh, I love you...."
He didn't withdraw right away. We lay together for several moments, and the comfortable weight of his body atop me filled me with contentment and peace. He felt like home.
"Thank you," I told him.
He beamed. "Always my pleasure."
We parted at last, and he drew me against his chest. His skin warmed mine. I relaxed in his embrace, full of joy.
"What did you want to tell me?" he mumbled, face buried in my hair.
Oh. Yes.
Now that he'd brought it up, though, the words fled me. Where did I begin? How could I make him understand what I'd seen, without sounding insane or paranoid?
He'll think it is only the lingering fear of Alaric. I'm supposed to be a soldier and a member of his horde now, not a frightened, hysterical woman.
He had to know, though. I must make him believe me.
"Earlier, in the stern..."
I searched for the words, clasping his hands in my own. "You should know the crew and soldiers on deck didn't approve of my decision to cut my hair. I didn't know the cutting of hair was a bad omen aboard ships."
"Ah." He freed his hand from mine and stroked his beard. "Yes. I'm familiar with the belief, though I suppose it didn't occur to me, after so many months on land again, far away from sailor's superstitions."
"Ashe made me stamp on eggshells to keep vile spirits from hunting me in revenge. I'm not certain it worked, though. After I left you in the meeting room, I saw... something in the passageways."
"What was that?"
I ran my fingers across my lips. "I think... maybe a person? They disappeared right into the shadows, though. As if..."
"As if they weren't real?"
I shifted to peer up at him. Cold gloom stole across the back of my neck. "You think I was mistaken."
His lips twitched into an uncertain grimace. "You've seen much in these last months, Sadira. And you were right about Lord Khan and his dark magic—he was following you after all. But..."
He stroked the close-shaven segment of my hair, sending me into a shiver. His lips touched the crown of my head, and he uttered a soft sigh.
"I had him in my head," he went on. "He had power in him still, but it burned hot and fast. There couldn't have been anything left after the last gasp of that golem he created. Even if we hadn't destroyed it, I doubt Khan could have sustained it much longer. I doubt any part of him survived its destruction."
I lay my head down, furrowing my brow. But the ropes, I wanted to say. I know they tried to strangle me. And the slamming doors at the castle.
Would he believe any of it, though? Did I, really?
Perhaps it is all in my head. Perhaps I'm simply frightened by all these changes... by the strange path before me.
As he held me, I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the waves outside the porthole over our heads. The sway of the boat—and the weight of all my questions—made me tired.
"Something is going on, though," I murmured. "I know you think I was being clumsy earlier... not watching as I climbed in the shrouds... but..."
"Hm?" He nuzzled his head between my neck and shoulder. "Tell me, Sadi."
The heat of his body swaddled me, though. The slow rocking and the even rhythm of the sea... the beat of his heart... his breath against my skin.
I mumbled something else, but my own words sounded distant and lost. Soon, beautiful sleep pulled me down, and anything else I might have said drifted away like sand in the breeze on a desert night.
A knock at the cabin door roused me some hours later. I opened my eyes to find night had fallen, a tiny circle of dark, starry sky visible through the porthole. No moon tonight, but a cloud of celestial blue and violet spiraled across the black. I gazed up at it, lost in quiet admiration, until another knock interrupted my thoughts.
Bannon slept on beside me. His arm slid from me as I sat up and managed a sleepy, "Hello?"
No answer. I smoothed down my messy hair and rubbed the back of my neck. A low, gravelly rumble caught my attention, and I wrinkled my nose. What is that?
Then I realized.
Schala perched on the end of the bunk, spine arched, the stub of her tail standing straight up. The fur of her ruff bristled, and she growled, flashing green eyes fixed on the door.
I watched her, then followed her gaze, waiting.
Silence. My attention drifted down, to the faint strip of light at the bottom of the door. The lanterns in the corridor cast a dim but steady glow.
If someone's out there, I should see their shadow. There isn't any, though.
I'd just about decided I'd dreamed the sound—and Schala probably only caught scent of a rat—when a furious hail of blows shook the door in its frame.
I gave a start, a short cry escaping me, and I grasped blindly for Bannon's hand. Schala yowled and hissed, bounding down form the bed to stalk back and forth across the floor.
Bannon stirred, squeezing my hand, his voice sleep-muddled and almost inaudible as he mumbled, "Sadi?"
"Did you hear that?" I scooted closer to him. He tried to loop an arm around me and pull me back into place beside him, but my body refused to relax. Trembling, I unwrapped myself from his grip and stood.
Bannon didn't rise. He was asleep again already, and I knew he couldn't have heard what I did. If he had, he'd already be on his feet. Meanwhile, the caracal paced and paced... and the weak crack of light beneath the door slowly faded, going dark before my eyes.
Something is out there.
I cast a glance over my shoulder, frowning at Bannon, so eerily unresponsive. Something... with some kind of power. Something that wants me alone.
On shaky legs, I crossed the cabin. Our lantern hung on a hook beside the bed, a box of matches stored in a little cubby beneath it. My hands trembled as I lit it. Then I snatched one of my sarongs from the chest at the foot of the bed and wrapped it hastily around my naked body before taking the light, steeling myself.
Another cry escaped me as cold feline paws landed on my shoulder without warning. Schala, jumping up from the floor to settle herself on me, still growling with ugly menace.
"Don't do that!" I hissed at her, though I brought up a hand to stroke her all the same. She didn't seem to notice. The growling didn't stop.
Taking a deep breath, I approached the door. Silence, still... but somehow, I sensed a dark, grim intelligence waiting for me. As if I could hear—maybe feel—its strange, bestial breaths, deep and rhythmic, and the cold, icy beating of its heart.
My hand came down on the doorknob. My heart thundered in my ears.
Now, Sadira. Now or never.
I flung the door open wide.
The passage lay in darkness. The lanterns had been extinguished, leaving only the light in my hand to illuminate the shadowy, narrow corridor. I saw no one, but a frigid cold wafted over me.
After a long, quiet moment, I peeked out, holding up my lantern and checking the passage, first one way, then the other.
Under the archway leading to the cargo holds, a faint shimmer of a figure moved. The light of my lantern reflected in its wide, white eyes, round and bright as moons.
My lantern exploded in a flash of fire, showering me with shards of glass, plunging the hall into freezing blackness.
Chapter Eleven
Schala gave a sharp feline scream, and before I could stop myself, I screamed with her, throwing the remains of the lantern blindly into the darkness and dodging back into the cabin to slam the door. The cat jumped down from my shoulder as I pressed my back against the wood, praying the creature with those bright moony eyes wouldn't return or start pounding on it again, wouldn't shake and rattle it, trying to get in while I desperately put all my weight in its way.
My face stung. I brought up one hand to probe for damage and found myself mercifully unscathed. A few smarting, shallow scrapes marked my cheeks, but none of the glass had hit my eyes or my lips.
I waited in tense silence, my whole body shaking. Across the cabin, the faint light of the stars cast a glow on Bannon, lying undisturbed on our bed. A horrible certainty touched my heart—he was dead. My scream, the explosion of the lantern, they hadn't woken him because he was dead, not sleeping, and I was alone on this ship. Completely alone.
Except for the thing with those bright, white eyes.
No, Sadira, Stop thinking that way. You can hear him breathing. Bannon is alive, and you are not alone. Whatever you saw—
A creak sounded from the passageway. I held my breath and shut my eyes.
One of the sailors. Or the captain. Bannon may have slept through everything, but I definitely woke someone. Any minute they'll knock, and ask what happened...
No knock. Another soft creak. Somewhere on the other side of the door, a silent, waiting presence lingered.
And it knew I was listening.
I don't know how long I stood there, holding the door closed, waiting for some horrible ba
nging or a ghostly, keening moan. Schala sat on the floor staring up at me, nothing but a feline shadow limned in soft starlight. Nothing came from the other side of the door. My heart thundered in my chest.
After long moments, a creeping, cold touch spread over my back, just between my shoulders. Something like a hand, pressed flat against my skin.
Then, the sense of the other—whatever prowling entity had called me from my sleep—was gone.
I lay awake the rest of the night, tucked in Bannon's arms and curled under the quilts, but seized by a frigid, naked cold. I shivered until dawn, focusing on Bannon's slow breaths in and out to reassure me, and Schala's plush coat under my fingers. As the first gray light eked through the porthole, the sound of sailors and cabin boys stirring from their bunks and making their way to morning duties eased my worry.
I managed to drift down into a doze, until Bannon shifted beside me. He untangled his body from mine and stretched, then gave my shoulder a gentle shake.
"Wake up, pet. We've work to do above deck."
Exhaustion weighed down my whole body. I rolled onto my back to look up into his face, and he bent to kiss me. Then, though, his brow furrowed, and he stroked my cheek.
"What's wrong? You look pale. Is it one of your headaches?"
I hadn't had a migraine since Alaric's last, terrible manifestation crumbled into wasted detritus on the sand. I almost told him so, when all at once an unthinkable transgression occurred to me.
Lie.
Sacred serpent. Lying to Master was a cardinal sin. Under Alaric it had meant the harshest punishment, maybe even days of punishment, and ruthless, careless denial. Lie to Bannon? How could it even cross my mind?
And yet...
"Yes," I found myself saying. "I woke with such pain... my neck is stiff as stone."
Bannon frowned and smoothed back my hair. I closed my eyes and basked in the gentle touch, though a horrible seed of guilt sank into my heart.
"Sir, may I stay in here this morning? You can station me on the night watch instead. I will be fine by then."