Guardian’s Bond

by Morgan, Rhenna

  He stilled for only a second, then lifted his head. “But you want it.”

  God, yes, she did. So bad every nerve ending practically screamed for her to throw herself at him. To rub herself against him like a desperate cat in heat. “Wanting something and something being good for you are two very different things. What you’re offering comes with a price I’m not sure I’m ready to pay.”

  “There’s no price with me. Only pleasure. And your heart won’t allow our bond until you’re ready.” He fisted her hair and slowly tugged her head back. He nipped her lower lip. “Maybe you need a taste.” He licked the spot and soothed the sting. “To explore without the risk.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.”

  His lips curved in a roguish grin. “Oh, it’s possible.” He loosened his grip and kissed her again, this time softer. Coaxing. A promise and a temptation all rolled into one. When he lifted his head, he traced the space where his medallion had lain at the base of her throat. “Put it on before you go to bed. Let me show you what you’re missing.”

  “Show me how?”

  “You’re a scientist. Put it on and find out. I dare you.” Another kiss. This one a soft goodbye that nearly drew a whimper. “Sweet dreams.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Priest lay on his couch, his house utterly silent save the sounds of nature filtering in through the open sliding glass door behind him. The light blanket draped over his naked body was an irritation to his skin, and his cock was a painful weight against his belly, long, thick and throbbing. Even if Katy took the dare he’d thrown her—wearing his pendant and allowing him to meet her in her dreams—he wouldn’t find the release he needed. Not tonight. Not until he was inside her.

  Kateri though... Kateri he’d take care of thoroughly and enjoy every second of it. Her sweet body was strung tight, poised on the edge of something she couldn’t yet comprehend. All he needed was an opening. A chance to reach her emotions and free her from the inside out.

  If she’d just take the risk and let him in.

  Fuck, but he needed her. Wanted to bury his face between her legs and inhale the arousal that had driven his cat wild all night. Wanted to lap her slit and suck her clit until she ground her pussy against his mouth and came against his tongue. Wanted to sink his shaft inside her wet cunt and claim what was his.

  He fisted himself at the root and squeezed. Hard. He waited, letting his thoughts drift and ideas of what he’d show her in her dreams percolate. Time did nothing to ease his aching dick or the tension in his muscles.

  Only when enough time had passed to let her settle in and find sleep did he dare close his eyes and find his center. Imagined his mate stretched out on his bed. Dreaming. Waiting.

  The room’s quiet buzzed louder and bit by bit, his muscles uncoiled until his body lay tomb-heavy on the couch’s thick cushions. But his spirit was light. Ready to travel and give his mate what she needed. He homed in on his mark, the ancient metal and magic imbued in it drawing him steadily toward his room and hopefully to the woman who wore it.

  The sounds around his spirit shifted, crickets and rustling leaves registering in his sightless form from a different source than the room he’d left behind.

  The balcony.

  Like him, she always opened it when she slept. But it wasn’t just the sounds that were different. The scent had changed, too. Jasmine, crisp cotton and his own scent mingled together.

  Kateri.

  In his bed.

  She’d worn it. Had taken the dare and put his mark back where it belonged. Was giving him the chance to show her how good it could be between them. How freeing despite her fears.

  He stilled his spirit. Centered it. Then reached for her dreams.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Kateri.”

  The voice came from the gray mist, whatever dream or vision that had played out in Katy’s head moments before erased and forgotten in a second. She knew that voice. Loved hearing it as much as she loved snuggling in a warm bed on a cold winter morning. So deep. Comforting.

  Arousing.

  The voice came again, this time carried on a pleased chuckle. “I like the sound of your voice, too, kitten. Very much.”

  “Priest,” she whispered into the swirling nothingness.

  “You expecting someone else in your dreams, mihara?” Though she couldn’t see him, his presence solidified behind her and his hand settled on her hip. He swept her hair off the back of her neck and coasted his lips against the bared skin, his hot breath a beautiful caress that trickled down her spine. “You took the dare.”

  She had. Though, it had taken her fifteen minutes staring at the pendant and another ten cradling it in her palms before she’d fastened it around her neck. “So, I’m dreaming?”

  “More or less. Only I’m your tour guide instead of your subconscious, and I’ve got a very specific outcome in mind.” His arms encircled her, one slanted across her belly and the other across her shoulders, his hand a possessive brand above his medallion. “You’re safe here. No strings. No repercussions. Only pleasure.”

  Well, it was her dream. Where could a woman let go and set all her worries and rules aside if not in the unscripted realm of sleep?

  “Exactly that,” he said, answering her thoughts. “It’s freedom. Only what feels good. What you want instead of what you think you should do.” His voice dropped a notch, his lips a whisper behind her ear. “Are you ready?”

  Ready? She’d been ready days ago. Had imagined countless interludes between them despite the backlash reason kept throwing at her. But right and wrong didn’t matter here. Nor did rules or expectations. “Yes.”

  As soon as the word was out of her mouth, the endless gray disappeared, replaced with the peaceful splendor of the cove where Priest had first kissed her. Only inches from her toes, the water gently lapped the loamy beach, and while her skin didn’t make direct contact with the water, its cold temperature still registered in the squishy sand beneath her feet. An easy breeze lifted her hair off her shoulders and sent the sun flickering through the thickening green canopy of trees overhead.

  An exact replica of that day. Except where was Priest?

  “Here.”

  She spun toward his voice and found him perched on a boulder as high as her waist, one knee cocked so his bare foot rested on the rock’s edge while his other leg stretched to the soft grass below. Like the day they’d trained, his torso was bare, only his fierce tattoos and the charms he always wore hanging just above his sternum. Only his gray track pants kept the rest of his prime body a secret. “What are we doing here?”

  “We only share so many memories together to work from, mihara. And besides, I thought I’d give us a chance to finish what we started here.”

  Sure as if the memory had just been waiting beneath the surface, the feel of his hard body pressed against hers that day flashed bold and beautiful. She wanted that. Wanted to see and feel him without their clothes between them. Although, she hated the fact that such an interlude would start with her in running gear. Talk about your un-sexy propositions. “Which one of us is guiding this dream? You, or me?”

  “Oh, I’m guiding it, but it’s your dream. The nuances are yours to add. Your mind completely your own.” He draped one arm over his bent knee and twirled a long blade of grass between his fingers. His hair spilled like soft black silk over his deep tan skin. A dark god idly waiting to indulge in his wicked ways. “If you don’t like what you’re wearing, change it.”

  “It’s weird you’re in my head.”

  “But I am in your head. Hard not to hear your thoughts when we’re quite literally in the same mental space.”

  Well, that made sense. In an altogether disconcerting way. “Why can’t I hear your thoughts?”

  “Because it’s not my dream. It’s yours.”

  Not exactly the answer she’d hop
ed for. A little tit for tat in this scenario would have been nice. “So, how do I change?” Or more importantly, what should she change?

  He grinned. “How about what you wore to bed?”

  She shouldn’t be pushing him, not with such a mischievous glint burning in his eyes, but she couldn’t help it. “What if I slept naked?”

  His smile slipped. “Then I’d be disappointed.”

  He would? “Why?”

  “Because you’d rob me of the chance to unwrap you.” His gaze slipped down the length of her, the languid glide an intimate caress. “Think of what you wore. Show me what’s covering you while you sleep in my bed.”

  The image was easy to conjure. God knew, she’d stood in front of the mirror long enough, fascinated with how the lace V of her sapphire blue slip nightie had framed his medallion.

  A light breeze drifted through the cove and the silk slicked against her skin, the barest hint of air slipping between her thighs. “I did it.”

  So thrilled with the simple feat, it took an extra beat before she realized Priest had gone eerily still, his covetous gaze taking her in inch by inch. Only when his stare met hers did he flick the blade of grass aside, lower his leg and straighten. “Come here, little kitten. Your big cat wants to play.”

  Oh, she liked that idea. A lot. Rather like ditching the cake and enjoying the guilty pleasure of licking homemade cream cheese frosting right off the spoon.

  “The only one doing the licking is me,” he said. “And I can damned well guarantee I won’t feel the least bit guilty about it. Now get your sweet ass over here so I can give you what you need.”

  “So bossy,” she teased, the lighthearted retort unlike any of the other banter they’d shared. More playful and fun than their usual tentative conversations or intricate verbal dances. Like a couple who’d been together years and still found inordinate joy in each other’s presence.

  She obeyed, but took her time in getting there. Beneath her feet, the sand transitioned to spongy, soft grass, a natural pallet she could all too easily imagine cushioning her body as his pressed into hers.

  “You never know,” he said, openly appreciating the sway of her hips. “You might like bossy.”

  “I’ve never liked it before.”

  The quick and dirty grin she’d grown to crave snapped into place and his voice dropped sinfully low. With only five feet left between them, the depth of it vibrated perfectly against her skin. “Ah, but you’ve never had it from me.” As soon as his last word hit air, he struck, grasping her by the hips and hauling her straight between his thighs.

  She couldn’t have hidden her gasp if she’d tried, the heady cocktail of surprise and his demanding grasp deliciously intoxicating. Beneath her palms, his hot skin stretched taut over unforgiving muscle. If she had her way, he’d give her ample time to touch and savor every inch with her hands and mouth. She traced the intricate lines of one mark along his collarbone. “I think that falls under manhandling, not bossy.”

  “And I think you like them both.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to say that, yet.”

  His hands at her hips drifted up her sides, taking the silk beneath them with it and stroking her skin even as the hem of her nightie tickled her upper thighs. “I know you’re petting me like you pet my cat.” Fanning his thumbs inward, he teased the underside of each breast. “I know your eyes are dilated and your voice is breathy.” He coasted the backs of his fingers up along the lower swell and circled her distended nipples. “And I can smell your arousal.”

  Her breath eked out on a shaky exhale and her shoulders pushed back, encouraging him for more. “Okay,” she managed, proud of the fact she’d managed that much. “You might have one or two clues.”

  “One or two.” He held her gaze, a watchful, waiting predator marking her every reaction. “But I’ll have more before we’re done.” He scraped his nails along each tip and pinched.

  Her eyes slipped shut and her hips flexed, the insistent tug and pressure spearing straight to her sex. The needy groan that rolled up her throat was foreign to her own ears, raspy and demanding to match her death grip on his shoulders.

  “More?”

  Yes. Absolutely. Or at least that’s what she meant to say, though she was pretty sure it came out more of a whimper. Regardless, he must have gotten the point, because his big strong hands got in on the action, kneading and plumping her breasts until she threw her head back and arched into his touch.

  His breath whispered warm just beneath where his medallion rested, his lips teasing her skin as he spoke. “I think my mate craves an edge when she plays.”

  Crave was an excellent word, though the edge part was a hell of a surprise. “I don’t know what to call it, but I’d be sorely disappointed if you stopped.”

  “Oh, there’s no stopping. Not until you’ve come hard enough for both of us.”

  Thank God. Because the way he was touching her right now she was counting down for one hell of an explosion.

  As soon as she had the thought, he released her breasts and slicked one possessive hand down her belly. When he paused and held it still just over her abdomen, she snapped her head up. “Don’t stop.”

  He grinned at that, and while part of her wanted to do something to wipe the pleased-with-himself smirk off his face, another far more practical part of her just wanted to get him back on track.

  Back in motion, his fingers dipped toward her mound, the mix of his teasing touch and the silk rasping against the tight curls beneath. “I’m not stopping. I just want to see your eyes.”

  Another dip and another swirl, but not quite reaching her clit.

  “You’re teasing me,” she said.

  “No, kitten. I’m learning you.” Reversing his path, he slowly skimmed both hands up her sides and over her breasts, then hooked his fingers beneath the thin straps of her nightie. “Cataloging every single moan and twitch and planning for how I’ll take you outside of your dreams.”

  Despite the weight of her eyelids, she held his gaze. No way could she look away. Not with the intensity burning in his mystic gray gaze.

  Inch by inch, he tugged the straps over her shoulders.

  Her breasts, already insanely sensitized by his attention, grew heavier. Weighted and tight to the point they ached. “Priest.” Why she said it, she couldn’t say. Only knew that she’d never in her life felt more intimate with a man and he hadn’t even seen her yet.

  “Feel it, mihara.” The straps fell loose and the silk slipped an inch, kept from whispering to the ground only by the tight press of her arms against her torso. Still he didn’t break their stare. Only traced the upper swell of one breast with his fingertip as if he had all the patience in the world. His touch shifted to her sternum and nudged the silk. “Own it. Relax and bare yourself to me.”

  Own it.

  He was right. It was her dream. Her incredibly passionate dream with a skilled and patient partner.

  Her mate.

  Something sparked inside her and the tension in her arms eased.

  The silk whooshed against her skin and pooled at her feet, leaving her heightened skin exposed to the wind’s decadent touch. She gasped at the unusual caress and closed her eyes, offering herself not just to Priest, but to the moment. To the truth.

  The rough, calloused scrape of Priest’s hands smoothed against her belly, and the low and guttural growl of his cat reverberated against her bared flesh. “Oh, kitten. If this is how you see yourself, I can’t wait to see you with my own eyes.”

  “What?” She forced her eyes open, the languid yet bold exploration of his hands along her hips, her thighs and ass leaving her thought processes trudging in slow motion.

  “Your body,” he said, not taking his gaze off his work. “This is your dream. What I see is how you see yourself. Knowing what I do of you, your perspective is a downplayed version o
f the truth, so I can’t wait to see reality.”

  The scientist in her marveled at the distinction and struggled to formulate clarifying questions, but the woman in her was too alive and focused. Too eager to feel more of what he offered. Curiosity was for later. Right now was for feeling. For assuaging the building pulse his touch stoked deep inside her sex.

  “Then say what you want.” He lifted his eyes to hers, cupped her breasts and leaned in, nuzzling the inner slope of one mound with his beard.

  “Why? If you can hear my thoughts, you already know what I want.”

  He shifted to the other side, rolling and pinching her nipples as he ghosted his lips against her tight skin. “Because I want my mate to be able to tell me what she wants. To put words to it. No matter how delicate or dirty.”

  Delicate wasn’t on the table. And she’d had plenty of dirty occupy her thoughts and dreams the last few days. More so than she’d had in her whole life. So much so it left her shaken, more than a little afraid of the change. “I want to feel your mouth on me.”

  He smiled against her flesh then scraped his teeth along the lower swell of one breast. “And?”

  And what? Just saying that much had been a huge feat.

  “Tell me what you really want.” He shifted his attention to her other breast. “What’s missing for you? What am I not giving you that you crave?” Another nip, this one more demanding. Prodding her to jump. “Say it, kitten.” He licked the spot and growled against her. “I want it, too. Say it.”

  “You’re being too gentle.” It was only a whisper, but his response was instant, his touch more commanding. Demanding and strong. He tugged one nipple, not so hard it hurt but bold enough her sex convulsed. He licked around the other nipple and locked his eyes on her. “And?”

  Oh, God. He wanted her to say it. Out loud. Something she’d never thought in a million years she’d utter. Not even in her dreams. She speared her fingers through his thick hair, her whole body shaking with a mix of thrill and terror. “I don’t want to be in control.”