“I can’t—” She panted. “Someone might see me, know who I am.”
He stood, towering over her, his voice grumbling softly. “In this darkness, no one could know you.” But he unraveled the sari cloth where it held her wrists to the timber, then effortlessly drew her wrists above her head with the cloth ends that still tangled them, turning the sari inside out, covering her head. She felt the tension in her arms as he tied her to some part of the lattice roof. All her body above her armpits, her head and upper body, was swathed entirely in cloth. She looked out through the folds of the thin cloth as if through a veil, saw him standing there with hands on hips surveying her.
“This is better,” he said, delight in his voice, and he bent, to hold each breast and nip gently at her bare nipples. “Now, no one can see who you are. But…tomorrow, you cannot deny me, at all. No disobedience.” His teeth closed a little harder than they had before.
“None,” she breathed, wanting him to stop talking, closing her eyes as he let one hand drift lower, brushing over her pubic hair, before his fingers probed at her and sank deep into her moist center. Where teeth had been, warmth and wetness curled across her taut nipple as he used his tongue. The licking, the soft slide around the areola, the sweep over the top went on and on. When he sucked the whole nipple into his mouth, the sudden sensation made her knees sag, and her weight stretched the cloth around her arms until he caught her with his hand under her buttocks.
He straightened, spun her round, and she didn't resist. Using his knee, he parted her thighs, then shoved his cock up against her and in, the crown paused in that delicious spot, just breaching her entrance. With agonizing slowness, he moved in a little farther and paused. The timber rail of the bridge crossed her stomach and held her in place, slightly bent over, mouth open against the cloth, turning it wet with her saliva. He thrust into her so deeply she gasped and then held her breath. Oxygen wasn’t necessary. Not when…this felt…so good. She trusted him. No one would see.
His two fingers were on her clit, kneading it, while with his other hand he rubbed her nipple as he thrust, over and over. Each time he withdrew, she sobbed, quivering and aching for the next thrust. She panted. Pleasure spiraling from wherever he touched her, from where he rubbed and pumped and fondled. Heat, lust, wetness all whirled her up into a storm.
Without instructions, her bottom tilted. From her open mouth, small grunts escaped. Animal instincts ruled her body
When orgasm was within a fingerbreadth away, he withdrew his cock and pushed at her other entrance, sliding in enough to stretch the little circle of muscle, before he withdrew, and still he worked at her clit. She groaned, wriggled a little, not sure if this strange new feeling was good or bad. The soft head of his cock moved slow and steady into her anus, letting her stretch, riding in on the juices from her cunt until with a pop his cock was in, lodged there. She felt pinned in place like a butterfly caught by a collector.
Hell. Good, in a fiery, oh my God what is that inside me sort of way. She gulped once and paused, frozen, fascinated by how her body was flicking on switches down there, opening her, lighting her up.
“Ready?” he whispered and kissed her shoulder. “I know it’s not hurting anymore. But are you ready? When you are, I’m going to show you the heights, my love, where only a fae can take you. Where only I can take you.”
Panting, she could only make a tiny strangled sound of encouragement, hoping he understood she meant yes.
What his fingers did to her clit came to the fore. Until a second later, when he moved his cockhead, and that became her focus. Each new movement of fingers and cock swung her between fire and heat and the slippery heaven turning her clit into a little expanding ball. Ready, nearly. She teetered, lost in sensation. Wanting more. More. Every muscle tightened. Her hands bunched in the sari cloth. Her neck curved back. He buried himself, deep.
Then down inside her, where the toah rested, a maelstrom erupted and spun her out of control, white-hot and shattering. She came, shaking, crying out, her mouth open, and the world streamed away into space. Rapture exploded through her, jerking her arms against the restraining cloth, and she never ever wanted this to end.
As her body succumbed to another wave of shudders, she at last admitted the truth.
This was part of what drew her to Heketoro, this lack of control, this act of utter surrender, where she could be free of responsibility, and she was the one being cared for.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tears trailed down her face.
* * *
When he untied her wrists, the sari slipped down, the flimsy cloth caressing her face, her breasts, and her legs as it fell back into position. She bowed her head against his chest, and he enfolded her in his arms, with his chin resting atop her head. She could hear his heartbeat, frantic at first. It slowed and was soon ticking as regularly as a second hand while hers still pounded, and she struggled to catch her breath.
“So beautiful,” he said quietly, marveling. “All these years—”
“My words, exactly,” she said, dreamily, eyes half-closed, the echoes of what they’d just done thrumming through her mind.
He shifted his chin, kissed her hair. “Come with me.” He took her hand, leading her toward one end of the little bridge, then down the embankment to a small dry area of moss-fine grass, his manner now as gentle and courteous as a prince from a fairy tale.
Once he sat on the bank, he tugged on her hand and she settled herself onto the grass between his legs. It felt so right when again his arms went round her. She sighed and nestled her back closer to him. That she hadn’t found her underwear yet, well, that only made it feel more glorious. When was the last time she’d dared to go without underwear? Or, for that matter, dared to make love out under the stars?
A strange background hum deep in her womb made her wonder what the toah was doing. Were tattoos even now writing the evidence of their lovemaking on her body?
“This is so nice,” she murmured. “Is this going to work?
The silence went on for many seconds, but she waited, letting him find his words.
“Yes. I think it will.”
With the baritone of his voice near her ear, it was hard to concentrate. She ran her fingers along his forearm, opened her eyes wide. Stay awake, girl, this is important.
A thumb-sized frog hopped from the water, paused, its throat swelling as it croaked. As she’d noticed earlier in the day when she stepped from her house, the world seemed brighter than it should be—the frog outlined in a faint trace of green glowing in defiance of the blackness of the night.
Walk away from this, and in a day she’d be back at work. Paperwork and the pressure of always being on top of things, the headaches, and the mind-numbing black days when nothing seemed right had long ago overshadowed the pleasure she got from arresting the bad guys. Whereas with Heketoro the opposite was true, so far the pleasure far outweighed the pain.
“What happens…when this barrier between your world and mine is gone?”
“I return to my world, as will Aroha. I hope to be able to help her once we return. The madness may be reversible.”
So, Aroha, his lunatic half sister would get to return with him. Another world. Damn, it was an awesome concept. To be able to go somewhere in another universe. She inhaled deeply, comforted by the warm male scent of Heketoro. The way his body fitted against hers felt so good. His fingers combing through her hair and hand at her waist sent a mix of shivery pleasure and plain slothful tiredness flooding along her spine and out to her extremities. This must be what a puppy felt like at the feet of its master.
Yet…he’d not said anything about her going to his world. Though at first she’d thought she was merely a convenience, a means to an end, now she was sure he cared for her. The signs were all there. But, he’d said nothing out loud, not really, nothing about this relationship continuing past the end of the ritual. She knew what she wanted to ask him, but did she dare? It was hard enough figuring out what a man was really f
eeling, let alone a fae. She'd have to ask.
Yet, my God—another world.
She had friends, acquaintances, and sometimes—when she wasn’t stressed out from work and snippety as hell—she’d had lovers. But Heketoro had blown everything else away. She didn’t mean to let him slip away, because once he was gone, there was no way she’d ever get him back.
“I have a question to ask.” Then she sped on before she could back out. “Would I be able to—”No, that sounded wrong. “Um, I’d like to come with you.”
His fingers dug, hard, into her skin. She turned her head and regarded him. You didn’t ask that sort of question and not look. She wasn’t a coward. His eyes, at first seemingly inscrutable—and she dared to think he considered her proposal—changed and were weighed down with some dark emotion. Sadness? Regret? Maybe even pity? She couldn’t tell, but it sent cold spiking through her.
Her own eyes brimmed with tears. “What is it? I thought you might have wanted to—No?” Her hopes fractured like thin ice. She moved her neck, twisting it to escape his fingers. “You’re hurting me.”
“I’m sorry. No.” He shook his head. “You cannot come with me. Here is where you belong. My world would be too dangerous for you. What Aroha did to you is nothing compared to the weapons and powers of the greater fae.”
“And it’s not dangerous for you, or your sister? I’m a cop. I’m trained to deal with risk.” Clearly, it was an excuse to say she couldn’t go with him.
She opened her mouth to say more, then whipped around to hunch over with her head in her hands. Maybe being a coward wasn’t so bad. She’d thought—Ah, what did it matter. He didn’t want her to come with him. She drew a shuddering breath.
It had been a silly, impetuous thing to say in any case. She knew nothing of their world. Perhaps, she thought, almost laughing at the idea, she should have asked to see snapshots, or a résumé, or a map of the cities perhaps? What other nonsensical and impossible document could she have asked for? But what difference would it make? She wasn’t going anyway.
He touched her back, rubbed in circles. “Do you understand?”
“Yes. ’Course I do. It’s okay. I’m not going to back out. I’ll still do this ritual for you.”
Then why was there now this intolerable ache in her chest? A broken heart? Hah! As if. It was just that the adventure of a lifetime was passing her by. Seeing another world would have been awesome. And having more of the incredible sex would be nice too. Not going to happen now. Except for tomorrow.
Despite her words, she did feel, in an irresponsible and totally stupid way, like backing out. This ritual was sexual, or so he’d said, and even though something about it scared him, she couldn’t imagine how it could hurt. But having sex with Heketoro after she’d just embarrassed herself…would be…oh, heavens, it’d still be the best sex ever, and she knew it.
Besides, the fae probably had something about humans ending up in their world. Maybe it wasn’t really a choice for him, as such.
He was still rubbing her back, as if that were a consolation prize. And this beautiful, gentle, yet powerful man was going to leave her.
She stiffened. She’d made a contract, or near enough, to help him, a life-or-death contract. She wasn’t going to back out. Yet, she was lying to herself. It wasn’t just the adventure that made her want to follow him to his world.
He grabbed her, slid her bottom back against him again, and held her tight. “I’m sorry. I wish I could take you.”
“It’s…okay. I get it. I only have half the facts. I accept that.” And I’m sorry that you don’t feel the same way, I do. I am really sorry about that. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing. Plainly, she should just make do. Had she fallen in love with him? Surely not? But it was close, so close she didn’t quite know which way was up, or what to do if he spoke to her about her reasons.
She wriggled until he relaxed, took one of his hands between her own, bringing it to her lap and lifting each finger one by one as she thought. He was going to return, without her, to another world. The whole concept was as indigestible and as hard to get her mind around as a chunk of physics. Did she really believe in all this? No matter how many times she’d decided exactly that, she half expected to wake up and find it had all been a dream.
These fingers in her lap were real. Thank heavens.
Truth be told, she also didn’t understand the science behind computers or the Web or why the sun and the moon did what they did. Start with one fact and take the rest as gospel. Heketoro was real. So the rest must be too. Damn. Einstein had nothing on her.
She kissed his arm. “Tomorrow, we’ll perform this ritual, and I won’t set a foot wrong.”
“Good. Let me tell you what will happen.” His breath warmed her hair.
“The ritual must take place on the island at the center of the lake, and we must be naked.”
“Oh…though I guess that makes complete sense.”
“First of all you must cover my body with kisses, and then I”—he nipped at her neck—“must do the same to you. Then I get to tie you to a tree, in a very exact way, and we must make love in a very precise way.”
“Hmph. You make it sound all rather clinical and dry.”
She felt him muffle his laughter against the nape of her neck.
“Stop that, it tickles!”
“The one thing you will not be is dry. I promise you that.”
She grinned and thought back on what he’d said and, strangely, found herself shivering with anticipation.
“Do not forget Aroha. I fear what she might do. She may conceal herself in some way with glamour, so I can’t say how she will appear to you. You must not let any woman you don’t know into your house.” These last words struck a sinister chord within her.
She nodded. “Of course. You already said this.” It was a simple enough thing. Why was he so insistent? “So, you really need permission before you can go into a house?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I hereby grant you permission to enter my house anytime you like.”
“I’m honored,” he said. “Truly.”
She laid her head back against him, and they sat together for a long while before she ventured to ask what had been puzzling her.
“Heketoro, why does the frog sitting there seem as if he’s been drawn around with green fluoro crayon?”
“That and the tattoo are the first changes coming upon you. Having sex with me has triggered this, and from now on, sex will bleed some of the power into your flesh. You will see in the dark, far better than any human. Come to the water.” He moved, drawing his legs up and standing, then beckoning her to the edge of the creek.
A small area of the water shone as silver as a mirror, and she saw her face reflected there. Intermittently, strands of her loosened hair flamed red, then faded away. A thin, dark snake curled down her brow with a new flamboyant twist and curve at the bottom. It had almost reached past the corner of her eye. “This”—he fingered one of the red strands—“tells me what you are. You are related to the fire fae. A greater fae is one of your ancestors. Fire, water, wind and earth—the four greater fae. I had wondered which of the four you would be. Not a paler fae, one of the lesser, as you would have shown no tattoo.”
She blinked. Oh my. “And you are water?”
“Yes. It explains why you are so clumsy in the water. And other things. Water overcomes fire.” He smiled. “And this”—he touched the tattoo on her forehead—“says you are mine.”
The possessive words startled her. Yet still they thrilled her. Two days ago, she would have laughed at and maybe slapped a man who said that. But now…ah, it set her alight. If only she could leave with him.
“And I am yours.” He kissed her neck.
The excitement from his words faded, and bitterness took its place. It seemed pointless to say they belonged to each other. Why? Why say that at all, if he meant to leave without her? A fragment of hope kindled, twining with the bitterness. Perhaps
he might return? Would that be enough for her? She doubted it, but still, it might be better than to never see him again.
“Are you able to come back here?” She held her breath while she waited for his answer.
“No. At least, I doubt it. Enormous power is needed to open portals. Which only makes me wish even more that you could come with me.”
She murmured something indistinct. Methinks he dost protest too much. Where had that come from? Shakespeare? Probably. There was a quote for every situation hidden in his plays, or so she’d heard, not being precisely an expert herself. There seemed no point in whining about it. Nothing would change. He’d decided, and it wasn’t as if she could book another form of transport. Bus, train, or fae. Yeah, right. At least now she’d not have to ask if she needed to pack a toothbrush or a change of clothes. They probably didn’t even have plumbing.
“Danii?” He traced the lower line of her neck with his finger, stirring her skin to goose bumps, then resting his hand on the same line as if to emphasize the importance of his next words.
“There’s something I want you to promise me. No matter how this turns out. Whether I live or die, I want you to promise you won’t abuse yourself as you have in the past. No more forcing alcohol into yourself to distance yourself from the sad things. That is why you do it?”
“I—” Why should she have to explain this to him? If he was leaving her, he didn’t care really, not enough anyway.
He sighed. “If you won’t admit why, at least promise. You’re a smart woman. You should take what life hands to you and try your best to enjoy it, no matter what. You shouldn’t need to resort to such methods.”
Huh. As if the method mattered. She’d find a way. She had to, it was her way of staying sane. Maybe he didn’t get that. And it sounded like whatever trick he’d played to make her scotch taste awful was going to wear off.
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