Very reluctantly, he pulled back…only to find her smiling up at him, batting her pretty lashes. “My turn.”
Every drop of blood in his body headed south, and he struggled to think coherently. Despite knowing it was a horrible idea, he couldn’t resist her plea or the chance to know what it felt like to be touched, skin on skin.
Gooseflesh spread across his arms and torso at the thought, and he shifted restlessly, clearing his throat as he waited for her to make her move.
Her grin widened, and she reached out, pinching his shirt between her fingertips and tugging. “It would work better with this off.”
Camden opened, then closed his mouth, swallowing hard, and obeyed. He grabbed the back of his shirt and wrenched it over his head. The reality of what they were doing made his stomach lurch alarmingly and he held his shirt in front of him like a simpering, spinsterish maiden, suddenly nervous.
What if she didn’t like what she saw?
Then he wanted to kick himself for acting like a hormonal teenager. They wouldn’t be in this situation if she didn’t want him. But a little niggle of doubt remained like a worm, eating away at his courage and he couldn’t make himself drop his shirt, not when his entire future literally rested in his lap.
* * *
Annora watched the flicker of emotions cross his face and hated that her presence made him doubt himself. She knew what it was like to yearn for a kind touch and be denied. She refused to let him feel the same way ever again.
She carefully picked up his hand, noticing blood still caked his nails, bruises darkened his knuckles. She turned his hand over, tracing her fingertips lightly down his fingers and across his palm, carefully trailing them up his arms like he had done with her, peeking up at him from under her lashes. He watched her avidly, his harlequin green eyes swirling with emotions. She wasn’t sure he even breathed. Pleased to have his full attention, she skimmed her fingers along the crook of his elbow, enjoying the way he shivered as she explored him.
She didn’t have to turn his arm…he did it for her, guiding her touch. She raked her nails lightly along the tender underside of his upper arms, then dragged them around the outside and up to his shoulders, loving the way he shuddered.
Unnoticed, his shirt sagged to the floor, leaving him bare for her to touch wherever she wished. Though she felt drugged by him, it wasn’t the way he thought.
She didn’t feel tired or scared.
She craved more.
She loved knowing she could affect him as much as he affected her. He didn’t try to hide it, didn’t shy away. As she ran her palms down his chest, his breathing became erratic. Muscles jumped when she reached his stomach.
As she traced the edges of his waistband, he snarled, then quickly captured her wrists and pulled her hands away, dragging her close until their breaths mingled.
She swayed forward, lured by the need to taste his lips, but he jerked back and shook his head. “No.”
Her haze of lust evaporated, and she pulled back, only to be halted by his grip on her. She scanned his face, wondering if she’d read him wrong. He gazed at her so tenderly her heart quivered. “Why? You want me.”
She wiggled her fingers and raised a brow at him. “I’ve more than proved that I’m not afraid. You would never hurt me.”
“What if I’m afraid?” He gave her a lopsided smile.
His expression was so earnest and vulnerable, her stomach dropped and her body went ice cold. Of all the things she’d considered, she never thought he’d be afraid of her. She’d always assumed he felt the same way she did—and she quickly shook her head, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
Her throat tight, she tried to pull away, desperate to lick her wounds in private. She didn’t want him to know how much his fear hurt.
Only he tightened his grip and slipped his arms around her until she was plastered against his chest. “Annora…you misunderstood. I want to go slowly and treasure each moment with you, every touch and kiss. I want to take you out on a date, eat dinner with you, and make you laugh. I want to walk you home and hold your hand. I want to leave you at your door and kiss you goodnight. I want to do everything we missed together. You are my one and only. You deserve to be treasured. I want…I need to show you what you mean to me.”
He pursed his lips then dropped his arms from around her and wiped his hands on his jeans as if he was nervous. Then he licked his lips and stared right into her eyes. “Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”
Tears immediately flooded her eyes, overcome by the enormity of her emotions. When his expression turned panicked, she gave a watery laugh and nodded. “Yes. Yes to everything.”
She threw herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms came around her, nearly crushing the air out of her, but she didn’t care. She rubbed her face against his jaw, then reluctantly pulled away.
Before she could crawl off his lap, he lifted her and deposited her on the other seat. He picked up his shirt, tugged it over his head, and she couldn’t help but gawk at the flex of muscles. When he pulled the shirt down, she must have hummed in protest, because when she looked up, it was to catch him smirking at her.
Her cheeks burned, and she ducked her head. She grabbed her own shirt and grimaced. No way was she going to wear the blood-encrusted rag again.
He jumped out of the vehicle, then offered his hand.
Pleasure bloomed in her chest, and she paused to memorize the tender expression on his face. It wouldn’t last. She’d drive him crazy soon enough and wanted to savor the moment. When their hands touched, her skin tingled.
He wove their fingers together, and they walked back to the house, neither of them in a rush. When they reached the door, he leaned down to give her a gentle kiss, more of a quick brush of lips.
Then he was gone much too quickly.
When she opened her eyes, he was at the bottom of the steps, his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet. “Go. The others need you.”
She frowned, taking a step after him. “Where are you going?”
He looked off into the darkness, then back to her. “I’m going to check in with the patrols and help with the others when they return. There will be injured to help and prisoners to question.”
Annora took another step after him, not wanting him to go off alone. “I can help.”
Since the whole thing felt like her fault, it was the least she could do.
But Camden was already shaking his head. “Logan needs you more right now.”
Annora stopped instantly, as if her feet had grown roots, then nodded, worry for Logan suddenly at the forefront of her mind. She turned, taking the last two stairs up to the house before she paused with her hand on the doorknob. A glance over her shoulder showed Camden was waiting until she was safely inside.
“Be safe,” she said, then entered, closing the door behind her.
A quick look showed the ground floor was empty, and she charged toward the stairs, convinced something dreadful had happened.
She made it to the second floor, but it was empty as well. Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears she could hear nothing else but the erratic beat. Hand on the railing, she called upon the darkness, feeling it snap around her, hungry and searching for the threat.
She placed one foot on the stairs to her room when an arm wrapped around her waist from behind and lifted her off her feet. She was so focused on getting up the steps, her feet were still running. She threw back her elbow, slamming it into her attacker’s stomach. Air whooshed out of him with a grunt, and she recognized the warm sea breeze scent only a second later, just as the darkness began to lick at his boots.
“Xander?” Her voice shook as she hauled back on the dark particles. They resisted, slithering up his legs to twine around him like a lover’s caress, seeming to have recognized him before she did. When she realized that the darkness wouldn’t harm him, she twisted and smacked at his arm. “Why the fuck did you scare me like that? I th
ought something awful happened.”
He lowered her to the ground, gently turning her until she was facing him, and she burrowed against his chest, a shudder going down her spine at the thought of everything she nearly lost. He wrapped his arms around her very hesitantly, patting her awkwardly, as if he’d never given a hug before.
Well, she hadn’t received many, so he could just get used to it.
Apparently she was beginning to like them.
“I was outside burning Logan’s clothes. Mason is upstairs helping him get ready for bed.” When she turned to go back up the stairs, he caught her arm. “Logan would like you to wait.”
She glanced back, saw his pale face, and her gut tightened in dread. If Logan’s injuries were enough to shake Xander, they were worse than she expected. “I can help. I can—”
“He’s taking a shower. He just needs to get clean first. Wash away the blood and pain. He doesn’t want to bring it into the house, doesn’t want you to see him until it’s gone.” Xander gently tugged on her arm, leading her to his room.
It hurt to be excluded, as useless as a hovering bug that would only get in the way, but she pushed the whiny feelings away. If that’s what it took for Logan to feel normal, she would respect his decision.
The hurt was her problem, not his.
A tiny chittering sound drew her attention to the top of the steps and she whirled to see Prem looking down at her with a ferret grin. Her throat closed and tears blurred her vision.
He’s alive.
She didn’t understand how or why, but she was infinitely grateful.
She gave the ferret a watery smile and wiped her hand across her mouth when her chin wobbled. He limped carefully down two of the steps, then put his paws in the air, shooing her away, silently urging her to go, that he would look after Logan until her return.
She reached out, careful not to hurt him, and bumped her finger against the side of his face. He rubbed against her, then pulled away and drudged back up the stairs to stand guard at the top.
With a sigh, she reluctantly turned away and followed Xander into his room, absently taking note of the starkness of his bedroom—it was devoid of anything that might mark it as his. The place was neat as a pin. A dresser, bed, and nightstand were the only furniture, and a single peg had been installed in the wall where his large leather duster hung within easy reach.
The bedspread was a dark, speckled blue that reminded her of the sea. The whole place smelled of him, and the tension in her shoulders eased a little more with each breath. She didn’t get to see much more as he pulled her toward a door across from his bed.
The bathroom was massive, constructed in three sections. A huge tub took up most of the first room, the whole space screaming luxury, a place where a person could forget the world and simply soak. Without being told, she knew this was his private domain, his true home. Small bits of his personality were scattered around the room, carefully preserved—a broken shell, a tiny bird’s nest, a neatly stacked selection of books.
She craned her neck to see more as he hauled her along, gasping when she saw the next room. The vanity was huge, spread along the whole side of the room, a different sink for each guy. She could tell which sink was whose just by looking at the clutter.
Logan’s was an absolute mess, his shit scattered everywhere, even on the floor, like it’d multiplied while he was gone. Camden’s section had his bottles lined up neat as a pin, everything in its place. Xander had the bare minimum, nothing on display but his toothbrush. Mason’s was more of an ordered chaos, each of his few items was carefully maintained, as if he treasured even something as simple as a brush. Given that he was a troll, one on the bottom of the food chain in his family, maybe each item was a special gift.
There were two toilet stalls, but she didn’t get to see more as she was dragged into the last section. A giant shower stood waiting for them. Besides a door to the hallway, the room only had a counter full of soaps and shampoos and an open closet full of huge towels.
She only became aware that they had stopped when Xander released her. He studied her carefully. When he seemed sure she wasn’t going to run, he opened the shower and turned the water on full blast. Steam instantly billowed out from the multiple showerheads and filled the room.
Just imagining the feel of them pounding on her sore muscles made her groan.
Beyond worrying that he was still in the room with her, she stripped off her camisole. She wasn’t ashamed of her nudity. Having grown up in what was virtually a glass box, observed every second of her life, she had quickly been stripped of any shyness. While she normally wouldn’t take off her clothes in front of any of the guys, her need to get out of her stiff, bloody clothes was like a compulsion.
She could practically feel death clinging to them.
Her pants proved to be more difficult, the fabric sealed to her skin with dried blood.
Frantic to get them off, she wiggled and pulled. The sound of Xander clearing his throat made her freeze, and she glanced up at him.
His face was devoid of emotions, but the white tips of his black hair were standing on end. His teal eyes were sharp…and focused over her shoulder, allowing her privacy. The man was big and rugged, his facial hair giving him a roguish look…except he acted like the perfect gentleman.
“If I may?” He held up his hand, and she saw his fingers were tipped with sharp talons.
Annora crossed her arms over her chest to cover herself, more for his sake than her own, then walked over and presented him with her back. “Please.”
He dropped to his knees behind her, and all the breath whooshed out of her at the suggestive pose. Her body came alive as she watched him carefully lift a single talon and slide it between the pants and her flesh.
He dragged the talon down the back of her thigh, the fabric separating easily, like under a sharp blade, and she shivered as his touch lightly caressed her skin. When he inhaled deeply and swayed closer, she knew he could smell her arousal.
But instead of acting on it, he carefully repeated the same performance with the other leg. Once done, he gently peeled her pants off, leaving her standing naked with him still kneeling at her feet.
Chapter Twenty-two
Xander couldn’t move. Annora looked down at him from over her shoulder, her gaze smoldering, and his muscles locked tight against the need to touch her and follow through on the promise in her eyes.
They were both covered with blood and smelled of death, but he’d never seen anything so fucking beautiful in his life, and he clutched his knees in a brutal grip to keep from reaching for her. Underneath the scent of battle was her own unique, intoxicating smell, and he couldn’t stop himself from licking his lips at the thought of tasting her again.
His cock pressed demandingly against his fly, imprinting the zipper on it, but fuck if the bite of pain didn’t make him want her more.
When he realized most of the blood covering her was her own, he struggled against letting his mind drag him back to the horror of battle, the image of blood pouring down her body and soaking into her clothes seared into his brain, and his hands shook at the stark knowledge of how easily he could’ve lost everything.
He wasn’t strong enough to survive starting over again…not without her.
“I’m here. I’m alive.” Annora slowly lowered one hand to touch his face. He closed his eyes on a rough exhale and shuddered, then bowed his head, leaning heavily into her.
She turned to face him fully, leaning against him, and he wrapped his arms around her hips.
He wasn’t sure if she lowered herself or if he pulled her down to straddle him, he only knew her naked body was the only thing grounding him in reality. He clutched her close, knowing he was leaving bruises on her, but he couldn’t stop himself.
She’d been so close to slipping away from him.
He must have spoken aloud, because she said, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
When she scraped her fingernails along his sca
lp, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck until he felt surrounded by her. After a minute, the tightness in his chest loosened enough for him to breathe properly again, her touch giving him life.
He cleared his throat, his voice gruff when he spoke. “I should leave you alone to shower.”
He leaned back, respectfully dropping his gaze to the floor—only Annora didn’t untangle herself and leave. If anything, she leaned closer and tightened her hold.
“What if I don’t want to be alone anymore?” Her whisper fluttered along his skin, his cock throbbing painfully at the husky sound of her voice. “What if I want you to stay?”
His head snapped up, and his beast gave a fierce cry of triumph. It was all he could do not to growl and stake his claim. His searched her face for the truth, struggling to crush the impulse to take her hard and fast.
His frayed control screamed at him not to be a fucking idiot by turning her away, and he gritted his teeth against the urge to take her up on her offer, determined not to fuck this up. “Battle has a way of charging one's emotions. People make rash decisions they later regret. In the morning, you—”
“I’ve died more times than I can count, and never once have I run out to fuck the nearest man.” Annora gave him a crooked smile, her eyes dancing with humor, then darkening suddenly as she scanned his face. “But I never had to watch people I care about fight and almost die for me. Never had anyone risk their life to keep me safe.”
She cupped his face, leaning in close until her breath caressed his lips. “I’ve never felt such terror as I did when I knew I could’ve lost you without letting you know how much I love you.”
Something inside him snapped at her simple, straightforward confession, and he launched himself forward. Annora squealed as she flew backwards, but he caught her close, inches from the ground and crushed her to his chest, her scream cut off as he covered her lips with his. Eager for the taste of her, he thrust his tongue in her mouth…then nearly came in his pants when she sucked on it lightly. He could practically feel each pull directly on his cock.
Shackled to the World: A Phantom Touched Novel Page 25