He pressed his mouth to hers, then shifted and laid her out on the couch beneath him. “Almost done.” He kissed his way across her jaw to her ear, reached for her hands, and pinned them to the cushions above her head, loving the way she shivered in anticipation. “First, I need to make you come again.”
A slow, sexy smile spread across her gorgeous face, and her legs fell open, giving him full access to any and every part of her. “How will you do that?”
He held her wrists still with one hand and slid the other between her legs to find her already wet and swollen. Then he groaned and, with a wicked grin, lowered his mouth to hers. “Any and every way I want, female.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cynna kicked the covers off her bare leg and breathed deep as she stared up at the dark-paneled ceiling.
She was hot, agitated, and she couldn’t sleep. Not here. Not in this place. Gods almighty, she never should have agreed to this insanity.
Nick lay on his side beside her, softly snoring, the intoxicating scent of his skin and his alluring body heat drifting across the monstrous mattress to slide along her overheated flesh. She glanced at him in the spacious suite. Moonlight shone in through the arching windows, highlighting his square jawline covered in a thin layer of scruff and the jagged scar on his cheek he’d gotten during that horrific cleansing ritual.
His eyes were closed, his dark-blond hair mussed on the pillow, his muscular chest bare in the dim light and his jeans riding low on his lean hips. He was the picture of sex and sin and salvation, and though she wanted nothing more than to roll him to his back, climb over him, and do to him what he’d done to her on that couch at Delia’s house, she couldn’t. Not just because she knew he deserved a moment of rest, but because with every second she stayed in this castle, her anxiety inched up and the desire to claw her skin off grew that much stronger.
Sighing, she looked back up at the ceiling. After getting her situated in this room—this massive, fancy, way too expensive suite—he’d rustled up some dinner for them to share, then disappeared to do she didn’t know what. She’d assumed he’d gone to talk to the queen, or maybe the Argonauts, but she hadn’t wanted to ask. Not just because it wasn’t her business, but because that bandage he’d returned with, the one covering the bend in his right arm, indicated he’d gotten some kind of injection or given a blood draw. And knowing the people here were messing with him physically was too much of a reminder of what Zagreus had done to him. It was also an in-your-face red flag that this whole soul mate thing was way more involved than Cynna had first assumed.
Skata. She pressed her fingers against her closed eyelids and breathed deep. She was in over her fucking head. Way past the point of reason. She’d let good—no, really hot, mind-numbing—sex color her thinking and derail her common sense. Forget about the fact she couldn’t stomach being anywhere near Isadora. Every second she stayed with Nick pushed her that much closer to falling head over heels in love with the male. And though he’d said he needed only her, she knew in the center of her chest the kind of need he was talking about wasn’t love. It never would be. Not when a part of him would always belong to his soul mate.
Fuck it. She tossed the covers back and carefully slid from the bed. Finding her jeans, she pulled them on, then spotted her boots and the lightweight jacket she’d tossed over a chair earlier. When he’d come back from doing gods knows what, Cynna had already been under the covers, pretending to sleep. If he’d used his god powers and figured out she was faking it, he hadn’t said. He’d simply gone to take a shower, come back, and climbed in next to her. Then fallen asleep while she lay there, continuing to suffer.
Well, she was done suffering. She couldn’t help him anymore. She’d been stupid to think she ever could. Crossing the floor as quietly as she could, she told herself not to look back. But her chest grew tight as she pulled the door closed softly behind her, and a lump she couldn’t quite swallow took up space in her throat as she headed down the long corridor searching for the ornate staircase she’d walked up earlier.
Columns flanked the hallway. A thick, expensive carpet ran the length of the wide corridor, and closed double doors led to other rooms…probably other bedroom suites. Though she knew they were in the same wing as before, they were several floors up, and she couldn’t help but wonder who was sleeping on the other side of these doors, past these walls. Was the queen’s room somewhere close? Or did she have an entire floor all to herself?
Skata. Stop worrying about her and just get the hell out of here.
She passed three arches that opened to some kind of common living area. Just as she went by the last column, a sound drew her feet to a stop. A voice of some kind.
She peered into the dimly lit room. Several couches were arranged in front of a dark fireplace, and one lamp near the black windows was illuminated, but she couldn’t see anyone. The room looked empty and quiet. Just when she was sure she’d imagined the sound and was about to leave, a gurgle drifted to her ears. Almost…a coo.
Brow lowered, she stepped farther into the room and came to a stop when she spotted the baby wearing pink footie pajamas, lying face-up on a blanket spread out in the middle of the carpet.
The baby spotted Cynna and cooed again, then kicked her legs in the air several times as if she were excited, reached for her feet, and grabbed both with her chubby little hands.
Apprehension slid through Cynna. She looked right and left, searching for the owner or parent or whatever you called the person who took care of a baby like this, but the room was completely empty.
The baby continued to stare at Cynna, cooed louder and swatted her arms and legs in the air faster. Then she opened her mouth and blew a raspberry that echoed all through the hall.
Cynna stepped closer until she was standing over the blanket. She didn’t like kids. Didn’t like babies, especially. They were loud and messy and so demanding.
“What are you doing out here all alone?” she said aloud. The baby didn’t answer—of course she couldn’t answer—but for some strange reason, that didn’t stop Cynna from asking.
The baby kicked her legs and blew another raspberry. Then stretched her arms up as if reaching for Cynna.
Slowly, Cynna lowered to her knees. “Who leaves a baby all alone, anyway?” Reaching out, she touched the back of the baby’s hand. Her skin was velvety soft. The softest thing Cynna was sure she’d ever felt. A jolt of awareness rushed through her. “Did someone forget about you?”
The baby wrapped her little hand around Cynna’s finger and squeezed tight. For a tiny thing, she had an incredibly strong grip. And the way she held on made Cynna think she didn’t want to be left alone again.
“Aw, you poor thing. I bet you’re scared.” She pulled her finger from the baby’s fist, leaned forward, then slid one hand under the baby’s neck and the other under her back. Lifting her from the floor, she sat back on her heels and looked down at the little bundle in her arms.
She couldn’t be more than six or seven months old. Her hair was jet black, thick, and already curling past her ears, and her skin was like alabaster—shades lighter than Cynna’s flesh. But what slowed Cynna’s pulse were the baby’s eyes. Irises like warm chocolate with flecks of black and gold. Eyes that were eerily similar to the ones Cynna saw in the mirror every day.
Footsteps sounded somewhere close, but Cynna was so entranced, she didn’t have a chance to set the baby back down before a voice said, “Oh. I didn’t know anyone else was awake.”
Slowly she looked to her right. To where Isadora stood with one hand against an open door that looked like it led to a small kitchen, holding a bottle in the other.
Cynna’s heart rate kicked up, and her face grew hot. Quickly, she looked away, laid the baby back down on the blanket, but didn’t push to her feet and run. Which was weird, because…she didn’t want to be anywhere near this female.
The baby kicked out her little legs and blew another raspberry. Then reached for Cynna’s hand again. And she didn’t
know why, but Cynna gave the baby her index finger and let the infant close her fist around the digit.
“Let me guess,” Isadora said, her bare feet crossing the floor to stop next to Cynna near the blanket. “You couldn’t stop yourself from picking her up.”
“Um.” Cynna ran her free hand down the thigh of her jeans, not sure how to respond because…yeah, that was exactly how she felt. And why the hell wasn’t she splitting right this very moment?
“Don’t worry, you’re not the first.” Isadora sighed. “People gravitate toward Elysia, even those who don’t like babies. I’ve suspected for a while that she has the gift of psychokinesis, but I haven’t had the heart to tell her father that she’s not just cute, she’s a master manipulator. He thinks she can do no wrong.” She knelt on the floor beside Cynna and held out the bottle. “Here. Something tells me she wants you to do this, not me.”
The baby squeezed Cynna’s hand tight, and before Cynna could say no, her own fingers were reaching for the bottle. Elysia gurgled a happy, excited sound.
Isadora leaned forward, scooped Elysia into her arms, then handed her to Cynna. “Tip her up just a little.”
Cynna felt more awkward than she had in her whole life, but she sat back cross-legged, cradled Elysia in the crook of her arm, then held the bottle to her lips. Not missing a beat, Elysia grabbed the bottle with both hands and started noisily sucking down the milk as if a total stranger feeding her was no big deal.
“She likes you.” Isadora rested her hands on her thighs. “She only lets a few people feed her. I’m hoping that’s a good sign.”
Somewhere in the back of Cynna’s mind, she knew they made a bizarre scene and that she needed to get up and leave, but she couldn’t seem to make her body obey her mind’s commands. Watching as the baby drained a quarter of the bottle, she found herself amazed at the way Elysia’s little lips moved and her tiny fingers gripped the bottle so fiercely.
“Nick said you helped him escape from Zagreus’s lair.”
The sound of Isadora’s voice seemed to snap Cynna from whatever trance the baby was putting her in, and she glanced toward the queen. Isadora’s white-blonde hair was rumpled, dark circles bruised the skin beneath her bottom lashes, and her light-blue pajama set looked a full size too big. But it was her eyes Cynna focused on. The same eyes Elysia shared. The same ones Cynna knew so well.
The awe and calmness she’d felt earlier, when she’d picked up the baby, trickled away, bringing back that agitation that had pushed her out of Nick’s bed. “Yeah, I did. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. No problem. In fact, I want to thank you. For bringing him back to us.”
Cynna looked back down at the baby, hating the little wedge of jealousy pushing its way between her ribs. “It’s my understanding here isn’t somewhere he especially likes to be.”
“No.” Isadora’s gaze drifted to Elysia as well. “No, it’s not. I meant here to his family.”
“I thought his people were his family.”
“They are. But so are we. More his family than anyone else. And we protect those we care about. Fiercely.”
There was a warning laced in with that declaration. One that set the hairs on the nape of Cynna’s neck to attention. “I’m pretty sure Nick’s capable of taking care of himself.”
“I’m sure he is. But after everything he’s been through, I think it’s safe to say his…judgment…might be a little skewed. I just wouldn’t want to see him put his trust in the wrong person, especially now when he’s dealing with so many changes.”
Anger and disbelief pushed their way into Cynna’s chest, mingling with that jealousy that was now a raging hurricane inside. This female didn’t know the first thing about her. Didn’t know why she was here or what she’d done in her past. All she knew was that Cynna had helped Nick escape from Zagreus. And yet she was sitting here, making judgments about Cynna being bad for Nick, when she, with her little sickness and soul mate issue, was continually tormenting him.
“Maybe you’re the one whose judgment is skewed,” she said before she could stop herself. “After all, I hear you’re not feeling so hot.”
“No, I’m not. But that doesn’t change the fact that I care about Nick and don’t want to see him hurt.”
Cynna glanced sharply up. “Care about him or want to use him?”
Surprise spread over Isadora’s already pale face, making her skin look even whiter. “Of course I care about him. He’s my daughter’s uncle.”
Cynna narrowed her eyes and used her gift to search for the truth in Isadora’s words. Yeah, the queen was being honest. She did care for Nick because he was her husband’s brother and her child’s uncle, but there was another reason too. One that Cynna’s gift screamed was rooted in the soul mate curse. One this female would manipulate and use to her advantage to get what she wanted, even if it ultimately destroyed Nick.
Cynna’s heart beat fast, and she looked back down at the baby in her arms, no longer seeing the adorable infant but Nick’s future if she left him. He’d said she kept him centered. That when she was close, he could focus on her, forget about everyone else, forget about what they wanted from him, and fight the darkness from Krónos so he could stay in control. If she left now, he wouldn’t be able to do that. He’d be pulled in a thousand different directions by a hundred different people, and this female would be at the forefront, preying on his weakness for her because of the soul mate curse, slowly tormenting him in a way even Zagreus had never been able to do.
Arms shaking, Cynna quickly handed the baby to the queen and pushed to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Isadora asked, looking up.
“Back to bed. I’m suddenly tired.” And anxious to see Nick. To keep him balanced. To keep him from you.
Frown lines formed between Isadora’s eyes as she jostled Elysia and righted the bottle. “I don’t mean to pry, but you don’t exactly seem comfortable here at the castle. Nick mentioned you have relatives at the settlement. Maybe—”
Oh no. This chick was not kicking her out of the castle. Not now. Not when Cynna had finally decided to stay. “I’ll be fine.”
Not that you ever worried about me. Not that you ever worry about anyone besides yourself.
Cynna fought back the anger and resentment, then turned before she said more and headed for the hall. Working for calm when she felt anything but, she muttered, “Good night.”
“Good night, Cynna,” Isadora said softly at her back. “I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.”
Suddenly, Cynna was sure they would too. And she hated that fact.
Heart pounding, she moved quickly back to Nick’s suite, closed the door behind her, and scanned the darkness. He was still asleep on the gigantic bed, only he’d shifted to his back and was now lying with one hand over his chiseled bare chest, the other resting palm-up on the pillow near his head.
Her skin warmed. Her pulse turned to a roar in her ears. She wasn’t leaving him to that…female. Wasn’t about to let the queen prey on his emotions, his vulnerability, his goodness. She knew in the pit of her stomach that he wouldn’t ever say no to his soul mate, but she could help him stay centered. She could be his distraction. And this time, her desire to help him had nothing to do with guilt for what she’d done while she’d been in Zagreus’s lair. It had only to do with these feelings for him that were already rooted so deeply inside her.
She toed off her shoes and slowly climbed over him on the bed. Her knees brushed the outsides of his hips, and she braced her hands on the mattress on each side of his head. His soft brown eyelashes feathered the skin beneath his eyes, his thin masculine lips were slightly parted and, she knew, whisper soft. She let her gaze dance over him, over every freckle, every scar, every play of bone and angle of his features. And as she did, her heart took a hard, slow tumble in her chest.
He was right. Their being together might be wrong in every logical way, but it felt so incredibly right. And for now, that would be enough.
>
Carefully, she leaned down and brushed her lips against his. He didn’t move. Didn’t respond, so she did it again. Tipping her head to the other side, she kissed him once more. Softly. Gently. Just a feather of flesh against flesh, loving the sweetness of his lips, the heat of his body, that intoxicating lightheadedness she always felt when he was close. But he still didn’t wake, and disappointment slowly slinked in.
Sighing, she lifted her head and was just about to ease away when he groaned, slid his hand up into her hair, then opened to her kiss and pulled her mouth back down to his.
Ecstasy. Danger. Perfection. The words tumbled in her mind as his tongue stroked hers and his other hand drifted to her hip, then slid across her lower spine. She sank into him as he kissed her, letting him explore every inch of her mouth, kissing him back with everything she had in her. His muscles flexed as his kiss grew needy, demanding, as he tasted her deeper, and she groaned when he rolled her over and pushed all his delicious heat against her, driving her back into the mattress.
Her legs fell open. Her hands wound around his shoulders and up into his hair. She fisted the silky soft strands between her fingers and kissed him again and again, not able to get enough, needing to wash Isadora and their conversation from her mind with his intoxicating mouth.
When she was breathless, when she was ready to tear his clothes off so she could have more, he drew back and looked down at her with those sexy amber eyes. The ones that had always entranced her. Even when he’d been nothing but her prisoner. “Hi.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. It was such a normal thing to say. But they’d never had any kind of normal. And she wasn’t sure how to respond. “H-hi.”
“You’re wearing a lot more than you were a few hours ago.”
Damn. She’d forgotten to take off her pants and jacket. “I am.”
His eyes narrowed. Just a touch. Just enough to tell her he was on to her. “Should I ask?”
TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) Page 24