Binding Ecstasy (The Guardians of the Realms Book 6)

by Setta Jay

  There.

  Chapter 7

  France, Earth Realm

  When her eyes snapped open, she realized her fantasy had become reality. He’d slipped through the club’s wards. Gooseflesh rose over her ultrasensitive skin and her nipples pulled tight as his power licked at her aching body. Tasha pulled herself up to standing. She was comfortable in her near nudity. Aroused and far from embarrassed.

  Could she have him? Just once feel all that leashed power and intensity focused on her? Take the pleasure his eyes were promising.

  Either way his memories would need to be skewed. She breathed deeply, taking in his heady pheromones, and felt her already aroused body weep for him.

  She watched as he sucked in a breath between those firm perfect lips. Her ears caught the whisper of a low growl as his hard muscled shoulders pulled even tighter and he stared at her. The pulse beat at the column of his throat, drawing her complete focus. She wanted to lick every dip and taste his masculine essence.

  He murmured in a language she hadn’t heard in centuries. The sexy cadence was nothing compared to the words; their meaning was intensely beautiful and nothing she could possibly translate into anything that would give it justice. Phrases with ‘treasure’ and versions of beauty and perfection that made any other words a dull note in comparison.

  Her eyes tracked every inch as she fought for breath and sanity. He disappeared and reformed on the raised platform and her gaze tracked up to his as he stalked forward. Warm masculine heat and the scent of aroused male washed over her. She sucked in a deep breath and wasn’t sure she could stay standing as he crowded her against the pole.

  His head dipped closer and she felt shivers along her skin as his warm breath and deep voice played along her senses. “Your name?” He teased her with his scent just inches away but not touching her, tempting her as he waited for her answer.

  Words wouldn’t come. She moaned and circled one hand behind his neck; the first touch of his skin electrified her. She pulled him in and his lips caught hers in a kiss that took her breath, sapping her ability to do anything but accept the pleasure. His fingers found her hair and dug into the thick waves as he ruled her mouth aggressively. He didn’t coax, he took, demanded until she was a writhing mess on weak legs. She whimpered as she slid her leg up his leather-clad thigh, needing pressure on her aching clit.

  One big palm gripped her thigh as he ground his thick erection into her sweet spot.

  She moaned as her shaky fingers tracked down his wide muscled chest to his waistband. She was riding wave after wave of desire and the urgency only made her clumsy. Her eager fingers finally released the button and worked the zipper to slide her greedy hand in to cradle him. He was so hot and thick, and the skin was so silky smooth she wanted to rub it all over her.

  He growled and released her lips long enough to look into her eyes. They flew through the air, teleporting together, blending as one in the most erotically charged experience she’d ever imagined. They reformed on the bar. Her back was against the hard wood as his lips trailed along her neck. She cried out, she felt as if they’d become one during the teleport, and her body was on fire, as if she would die if he didn’t get inside her now.

  “Put your hands above your head,” he demanded and she couldn’t breathe to speak.

  She did as he said without thought as incoherent whimpers escaped her lips.

  “Tell me your name, Psihi Mou.” His soul?

  She squirmed in his hold. Something in the way he said the endearment slipped under her skin, making her ache that much more. If he thought she was capable of forming words, he was out of his mind.

  It was impossible to think when his warm fingers pushed the cup of her bra so that her breasts were trapped above the lace, her nipples stiff and needy. She cried out when the warmth of his breath slid over them and his wet mouth was on her, suckling in hard pulls that left her a keening mess. She arched her back for more contact. He moved to the other one and wrapped his lips around it and held her eyes as he sucked hard enough that she groaned as tremors racked her body.

  His eyes grew impossibly darker and more intense. The short release only seemed to make her needier; it wasn’t enough. Her hand came down, yanking and pulling at the heavy material of his shirt. “Off,” she demanded as the leather ripped down the back seam. His weight and throbbing erection pulsed into the soaked material of her panties; she needed them off, needed him inside. She felt dizzy. Her body was strained with such intense sensation she didn’t think she’d live through it.

  He ran the short whiskers of his goatee against the curve of her breast. The friction only added to her anguished need.

  “Tell me your name.” His eyes held hers and she fell into their deep erotic thrall. His breathing was ragged and she couldn’t believe he wasn’t already giving them what they both needed. He looked so demanding above her, so incredibly animalistic and beautiful.

  She pulled at the remains of the leather shirt, but the front stayed braced between them and he wasn’t helping. She was so far gone she couldn’t care less about names or anything that didn’t involve his skin on hers. She was soaked in desire and he was wearing too many damned clothes.

  He captured her wrists and held them together in one hand above her head as he lifted and ripped the front of the shirt free. “Is this what you wanted to see? To feel?”

  “Sweet God. Yes.” She moaned as his hard packed muscles twitched just inches from her chest. Her heavy-lidded eyes traced a smattering of dark hair on his dark skin to the fine trail slipping beneath the waistband of his pants. “Off,” she demanded again, hungry, greedy for more. Faster. She moved her thigh over his hip and pulled at her hands, but she was secured in his hold and that only heated her aching body another thousand degrees.

  “More,” she pleaded.

  He used his free hand, flicking her nipple as he watched her whimpering reaction, intent on every gasp as if he’d never get enough. It was intoxicating, but his control was driving her nuts. She could feel his wild pulse, his throbbing cock. Why wasn’t he taking her yet? Instead he tormented her by trailing his fingers down her stomach, over the curve of her hip, and lifted her thigh so high that her booted ankle rested on his shoulder. She was wide open and vulnerable. Her hips rotated, but he’d moved out of range, denying her the contact she so desperately needed.

  His beautiful chest rose and fell in deep pants. “Give me your name. Now.”

  She breathed on a whisper. “Natasha.”

  “Are you begging for my cock, Natasha?”

  Her skin was pulled tight with so much raging need she barely got the single word to escape. “Yes.”

  He growled and pulsed against her.

  “Please, now.” She needed release too bad to care that she was begging.

  He ripped her panties off and caressed her pussy with his knuckles. Her moans and cries drowned out the music that was still pulsing around the room.

  “So perfect. I want to bury my tongue in all this sweet cream.”

  Not enough. It wouldn’t be enough. “Your cock,” she cried out as her pussy pulsed. She had to know what it was like to be filled, to be taken by him. She wouldn’t waste a second of their time; she wanted just this once to know the full force of having him deep inside.

  It seemed like an eternity as he freed his erection and turned into her, positioning the warm, silky head against her. He dug his fingers into her hair, holding her eyes as he drove deep in a single mind-melding thrust. She cried out at the sharp sting that turned into the most intense fullness she’d ever imagined. She sucked in a breath as her body adjusted to being impaled. She’d never had another male. Never wanted one, and until now she never imagined the intensity of having a male inside her, throbbing deep in her channel.

  His eyes narrowed and his jaw clamped tight; she swore she heard his heart thumping even harder as he watched her. “Mine,” he growled and then more ancient words slipped from his lips and then his mouth was on hers, his tongue seduci
ng her into moving. She felt his muscled arms twitch as he stayed still inside her. She moaned into his mouth and he broke the kiss as his fingers slid over her scalp, and the hand holding her wrists moved to caress her cheek. Her channel pulsed around him and he finally moved. His eyes nearly closed as air rushed from his lips. His hips flexed and he slid out an inch and then back as he bent to kiss her with such tenderness she melted beneath him.

  Magical.

  She needed him to move faster, harder, but he kept the strokes measured until she realized her wrists were free and brought her hands to his shoulders, letting her fingers trail over his skin as she writhed for more. She moaned into his mouth and dug her nails into his flesh until he growled.

  “Tell me,” he demanded when he released her lips.

  “Harder.”

  He thrust hard and deep and stayed there. His hard length was pulsing, massaging her inner muscles until they were clamping down with need.

  “I wanted to give you gentle. Caress your virgin pussy until you’re clamping down and coming all over me, but I need to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to take a step without knowing you’re mine.”

  “Oh God, yes.” She shivered at his words.

  “Can you take the animal in me, or do you want the gentle lover this first time, Psihi Mou?”

  She cried out. She wanted it all, but more than anything she needed him as out of control as she felt. “Animal.”

  He growled. “Good.” He caressed her jaw as he kissed her, rocking his hips so she felt all of him buried deep inside her. It got harder, wilder, and then his lips were at her ear, his teeth tugging until she came again.

  It was physical and emotional overload, but she didn’t want it to end. One hand grasped her booted ankle and clamped it over his hip. “Hold on to me,” he demanded and lifted her up so she was straddling his thighs, her knees on the bar. His hands gripped her ass and slammed her down over and over, controlling every movement, and his lips came back to hers, swallowing her cries. Her nails bit into his back and down to his ass as he impaled her in deep harsh thrusts that rubbed her clit every time. She broke the kiss to scream her release to the ceiling, her neck falling back in rapture, her entire body quivering in his hold. His cock pulsed and throbbed as warmth flooded her, turning her into a relaxed shuddering mess in his lap.

  When his breathing evened out, he settled his forehead against hers. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want his body to leave hers. She’d stay in the strength of his arms like this forever.

  He rubbed his nose over her hair and kissed her neck before murmuring, “Are you sore, Psihi Mou?” His tone was so gentle and perfect that her skin tingled. Why did he call her that? It didn’t matter, she’d eagerly listen to him whisper even more, all those beautiful forgotten words he’d spoken before. True or not, they were the most poetic and reverent things she’d ever heard. He’d gotten under her skin. She had a bad feeling once would never be enough, but reality would soon descend.

  “I’m fine. I did love those panties, though.” She tried to lighten the mood and get an idea of the time she had left before she had to let it all go.

  “I’ll buy you more just to rip them off.” He spoke as if there would be future times. If only. She felt like she was waking from a dream, yet fighting to stay asleep. He was still rigid inside her, a part of her. Intimate and incredibly intense. Warm liquid was slipping between them and she inhaled the erotic scent of him all over her skin. He was intoxicating.

  A split second later she was on her feet behind the solid wall of his back. Her first thought was that she regretted not taking down his long tail of hair so that she could run her fingers through it. The second was that he was protecting her, and that warmed her even more. Not that it was necessary.

  Nastia’s shocked voice interrupted that thought. “What the hell, Tasha?!”

  Not now, she answered and closed her eyes before adding, I need you to fog his memory. She didn’t want to lose the moment. In a second his head snapped to her, and hard eyes narrowed as Nastia sent her power sweeping into him. He was paralyzed by the ability though his muscles tensed as if he would move, break the hold. She stood there and watched in shock as he let out a wild animalistic noise and jerked as if held by unseen arms.

  “Tasha. Go. Now!”

  She dug her fingers in her hair, rooted in place as a feeling of wrongness filled her, her mind rebelling at what was happening. Within a second her twin had her, splitting them into a million pieces as she ported them away.

  Chapter 8

  France, Earth Realm

  “What the fuckin’ fuck were you thinking?!” Nastia snapped, not waiting for an answer as she beelined in the direction of the small bar by the patio doors. “What even got into you?”

  Tasha didn’t even pay attention to Nastia’s tirade. She was too busy losing her mind. It felt like her skin wanted to crawl off her body as she forced her form to stay and not port in the direction of the club. She wanted to get back; she needed it even though she knew it was wrong. It didn’t make sense, but her stomach clenched as if she’d made some huge mistake in leaving him.

  The wall sconces in their living room were pulsing wildly, and she set her hand on the couch, knowing it wasn’t the lights, it was her. Tasha was only thankful that Nastia wasn’t paying any attention, because at the moment she didn’t know what the hell was happening to her. Something wasn’t right and she forced herself to take mental stock of her body as she focused her gaze through the wall of windows. She concentrated on the moonlit waves of the sea below as she cataloged everything. Dizziness, anxiety, painful stomach pangs.

  Immortals didn’t get sick, and she knew her twin would lose her mind if she thought something was wrong, so she kept everything from showing on her face. The problem remaining was her inability to move. She felt rooted in place because she couldn’t trust her body not to break apart if she left her twin’s presence. She had to stay in control.

  She took a deep calming breath and tried to get her mind to stop replaying every hot second of being with him. To somehow calm her emotions enough to figure out why she felt so much intensity toward a male she’d just met. She’d never wanted another male, had never been sexually interested in anyone for centuries. Why him?

  Her stomach pitched again, hard enough that she worried about the contents of her stomach. The alcohol was burning her throat now.

  She hated the idea that he wasn’t going to remember, because it had been the most intense and amazing moment of her entire existence. A part of her wanted it to be the same for him.

  She inwardly cringed at odd thoughts that were more suited to a young girl than that of a fully mature female who’d lived thousands of mortal lifetimes. Fairy tales did not exist. It was only that he’d gotten under her skin with beautiful forgotten words and whispers of something deeper than sex.

  It was infatuation.

  Another hard bout of dizziness threw her off balance and made the room tilt. That was what she needed to find an answer to. That and the nausea. Instead she’d been completely fixating on the Guardian. She fought the need to rub her aching head.

  “Seriously, what the fuck were you thinking?” her sister berated as she slammed a bottle of something onto the bar. How long had she been back there? It was unstoppered, so obviously long enough to get the bottle out and drink some before snapping at her for answers.

  It was taking too much effort to focus on her twin because the dizziness was spinning her. She needed to sit. She managed to keep her voice calm. “It wasn’t exactly planned,” she pointed out as she wrapped a colorful afghan around her mostly naked body and curled onto the nearest couch.

  Nastia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Trust me, I know. I was in his head, Tasha! Do you have any idea how disgusting that was? It was like I was him!” Her twin cringed as she drank deeply of the bottle in front of her. “Jesus. I can’t get that out of my mind and I’ve never felt so gross. Thank you,” she bitched and took another deep draw befo
re wiping the back of her hand over her lips. “You’re such a dirty whore,” her twin said without any heat. Tasha might have found it comical if she didn’t feel so damned miserable.

  Why was it as if a piece of her had been ripped away?

  More than anything, her mind needed to stop bringing up that intense look on his face as he drove into her over and over. Or his betrayed and furious expression when her sister took over his mind.

  The room spun even more violently, making her damned glad for the seat and her sister’s fixation on liquor. Glasses clinked as her twin dug around for what she wanted.

  What the hell was happening? Her womb actually ached, not from how well he’d used her body, more like a needy feeling of wanting more. The male was dangerous if he could make her wet with just the memories of having him. Her prized massager would never work the same again.

  She inhaled deeply and nearly sighed at the intoxicating scent of him on her skin. Jesus, she needed to figure out what was wrong and stop getting distracted by mental images of him. She felt the sticky evidence of his possession and clenched her thighs in need. She needed a shower, but more dizziness stopped that thought cold.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She looked to see her twin’s narrowed eyes focused on her. “I’m tired.”

  “I bet,” Nastia sniped. “Why now? Why after all of these centuries did you have to decide to screw a Guardian? We’re supposed to be avoiding them, remember?”

  “He snuck through the wards. It’s not like I knew he was coming,” Tasha snapped.

  “So anyone that can make it through the wards deserves a go?” Her twin was a damned smartass standing there with her brow cocked.

  Tasha ignored her and her twin went back to her bottle. She really needed to get better fast. Being light-headed couldn’t be a good sign. Could he have made her ill? Some Immortal infliction that they’d never heard of or encountered? Her heart raced. Maybe if she just lay there and calmed down, it would pass or her body would heal whatever it was.