Immortal Trust

by Claire Ashgrove

  The innocent brush of her hips against his as she moved in time to the music sent a rush of pleasant heat scalding through his veins. His cock filled with want of her, and he closed his eyes to stifle a low groan. Instinctively, he dipped his head to capture her mouth.

  Evading his kiss, Chloe turned her head and whispered against his cheek, “I don’t understand.”

  His lips found the elegant line of her jaw, and he dusted kisses to the sensitive hollow at the base of her ear. “What is there to not understand? This want of you plagues my waking hours.”

  “But last night you said you didn’t—”

  “Nay.” He drew back to look once more into those burnished amber depths. “I said I could not be your escape.” Lifting her bottom, he brought her against the hard evidence of his desire. A shudder rolled down his spine, and his body undulated against hers. “I am more than willing to be your reality.”

  A delightful gasp tumbled from her parted lips as her hips returned the slow intimate caress. Lucan’s body coiled like a whip against a shock of agonizing pleasure. Yet he did not move. He allowed the full meaning of his words to hang between them, waiting for her to answer. To give him the freedom to unleash the desire that roared through his blood and indulge in the magnificent gift of Chloe, his seraph, the one woman he would spend eternity serving.

  She gave him liberty as she curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, and with a light tug sought the kiss she had thwarted. Every fiber of Lucan’s body arced with live current. The desperate need to possess everything she offered at once brought his mouth crashing into hers.

  Their kiss was feral and untamed. She buried her hands in his hair, her nails scraped against his scalp. And then it was too much, the stillness of their bodies unbearable, the hunger for warm bare skin overwhelming. He gathered her shirt in his hands at the same time her fingers sought the buttons on his. Hands and elbows tangled, becoming more hindrance than remedy. Frustrated beyond all measure, Lucan caught her wrists in one hand, trapped them behind her, and with a low groan pinned her against the sturdy bedpost.

  Her back hit the wood with such force she let out a muffled squeak. Distantly aware he had hurt her, Lucan eased the assault of his mouth. On a relieved sigh, he sank his body into hers, grateful for a moment that she could not move. He dragged in a long, haggard breath and broke their kiss to nuzzle his cheek against hers. “Ah, Chloe, I ache for you.”

  He trailed his lips down the side of her throat, reveling in the way she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Releasing her wrists, he held her in place with his chest long enough to slide his hands beneath her shirt and caress the smooth skin covering her ribs. When the fabric pulled tight, forbidding him the softness of her breasts, he leaned away to lift her shirt over her head.

  No single ounce of shyness flickered in the brightness of her eyes. She held his gaze, made no attempt to move, seemingly aware he needed a moment to simply look at her. To admire the high swell of her breasts beneath a thin gauze of lace. To imagine the way her belly would flatten even more as she arched her back and took him deep inside her. To trail his finger along the waist of her jeans and release the row of buttons there.

  “Lucan, I want to touch you,” she whispered.

  Aye.

  The answer thundered in his head, but the tightness of his throat refused to let it escape. He stepped closer, his breath hard, his hands tight fists at his thighs. Time stood still as she freed the buttons on his shirt and slipped her slender fingers beneath. She pushed the fabric off his shoulders, dragged it down his arms, dropped it on the floor. And then her mouth touched his overheated skin, the scald of her lips both excruciating and gratifying. His heart clanged into his ribs. His shaft filled to painful limits.

  Mimicking the way he had touched her, she glided her fingertips over his torso. The softness in her expression captivated him. In all the hundreds of years he had walked upon this earth, he had never witnessed such wonder touch a woman’s eyes. That he could have such an effect rooted him in place with a tremor that ebbed down his spine.

  He stood stock still, scarcely able to breathe as she released him from the confines of his trousers and took his swollen cock into her hand. Knowing he should not, but unable to help himself, he glanced down to witness her fingers wrapped around him. He pushed his hips forward, gliding through her gentle hold and staggered beneath an engulfing rush of ecstasy.

  What remained of his control snapped. He caught her to him in a crushing embrace. No longer able to tolerate the barrier of their clothing, he shimmied her jeans off her hips. She followed the same unspoken command and undressed him.

  Hands and mouth searching, Lucan guided her away from the bedpost. When the backs of her knees touched the mattress, he laid her on the bed. Lost to all that was Chloe, he surrendered to the one thing he wanted more than salvation and nudged her knees apart to nestle his straining erection against the thin fabric of her panties. One press of his hips teased aside the loose material, and he groaned against the warm, moist heat that touched his swollen head.

  Yet through the bleary haze of all-consuming desire, he recognized a change in Chloe. The ardor left her kiss. Her hands explored more slowly, her touch light and hesitant. Where she had been eager and willing the night before, she lay beneath him barely moving.

  Lucan raised his head and lifted to his elbows. “What troubles you, my sweet?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.” Though she shook her head and offered him a smile, her voice lacked the same assurance.

  He quirked an eyebrow.

  “Really,” she murmured as she slipped her fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers. “I’m good. It’s just been awhile.”

  Though he was not quite convinced, he gave her what she desired.

  CHAPTER 22

  Chloe pleaded with her mind to shut up and participate in the tremendous ecstasy that rippled through her body. It had been so long. So unbelievably long. Lucan was the best candidate she could dream of to ease her draught. He was tender, handsome, and so delightfully thorough. She couldn’t ask for a better lover. He didn’t hurry her along for his own gratification. Took his time with gentle caresses. Used his mouth to make love to her before he allowed his body to dominate.

  She’d like him to dominate her. Like him to do whatever it took to stop the nagging worry that if she allowed this to continue she’d never come back. Somewhere in the heights he took her to, she’d lose her safety net and plummet to a disastrous end.

  She looped her arms around his neck and grasped at the flicker of desire that fringed her awareness. This was ridiculous. She had a hot, hard body and a mouth that knew how to give pleasure. No one else would hesitate.

  Besides, as late as it was, the idea of going to Julian’s room and facing his inevitable interrogation turned her stomach. She didn’t want to have to explain. Didn’t want to hear his admonishment that she’d regret getting involved with Lucan.

  Returning his kiss with renewed vigor, she arched her body closer to his.

  But what if she couldn’t return? What if making love to Lucan exposed her to the same devastating pain Blake inflicted?

  “Chloe,” Lucan whispered against her lips. He lifted to his elbows once more and studied her with a slight frown. “Where are you?”

  She blinked. “Right here. What do you mean?” She knew damn well what he meant. But the fact he could sense her distance made her want to squirm. Again she confronted the unsettling awareness of how closely he paid attention.

  “I mean…” He brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “Last night I enjoyed your full participation. You are far from here. From me. What troubles you?”

  Heat infused her cheeks, and she said a silent prayer of thanks that the darkness shadowed her face. What was she supposed to say? That she’d scared herself out of a night of pleasure? That she was so afraid to sleep alone she’d do just about anything? No matter her response, he’d see her as a tease. He’d become angry. Kick h
er out on her rear, and she wouldn’t blame him one bit.

  “Really,” she said with a soft laugh. “I’m a bit apprehensive. It’s been … years.”

  For a heartbeat, the light in his eyes intensified. Good heavens, he liked that. Enjoyed the idea he would be the first in a long while. An unexplainable thrill raced down to her toes. But in the next heartbeat, his eyebrows furrowed, and the lines around his mouth tightened.

  “Nay.” He shook his head. “’Tis something else. ’Tis in your eyes.”

  She nearly groaned aloud. No man on earth should be so observant. Nor should this one be able to read her so well. A heavy sigh slipped free. “I can’t do this. I thought I could. I don’t want to go to my room, Lucan, and I didn’t want to invite myself to stay. I’ve been trying to convince myself it’s okay…”

  He reared back on his heels like she’d slapped him. “God’s blood!”

  She cringed beneath the oath that slipped through his teeth. Aware she’d just dug her own grave she wriggled off the bed and picked up her shirt.

  Lucan snatched it out of her hands. With more force than necessary he hurled it across the room where it landed in front of the door. “Nay. You will stay if you wish.”

  Astounded, she could do no more than stare.

  He rose to his feet, jerked open a dresser drawer, and yanked out a pair of long cotton pants. His expression tight, he pulled them on and eased them over his jutting erection. When he looked at her again, his eyes glinted in the soft candlelight. “When we lay together as man and woman—and we will, for there is too much passion between us—’twill not be because you have had to convince yourself ’tis what you wish.”

  He gestured at the bed before he moved to the bathroom door. “Sleep. I am in need of a shower.”

  The door thumped shut before she could utter a word of explanation. Groaning, Chloe flopped onto the pillows and tossed an elbow over her eyes. Great. Evidently abstinence had eroded her brain more than she’d realized. Only a fool would admit the truth she had. Who confessed that kind of honesty to a man?

  * * *

  Lucan braced his hands on the sink and leaned over the basin, willing his body to forget the idea of pleasure. His shoulders shook with the effort. His chest refused to expand. Convince herself? He would cut his own throat before he took her without her full and willing participation.

  Convince herself. He smacked an open palm against the marble and shoved away from the sink. Why did she feel she could not just tell him she desired to rest her head on his pillow? He would have welcomed her company. Would not have uttered a single protest, and would have understood the unspoken message she did not desire intimacy.

  Saints’ toes, who had taught her she must hide behind false pretenses?

  A tremor ran through his hands as a fresh burst of anger replaced the annoyance in his blood. Whoever had instilled that lesson, he would enjoy every minute of choking the life out of his lecherous body. When Chloe allowed Lucan to glimpse it, her spirit was much too precious to be stifled. Even her stubbornness, her fierce temper, he enjoyed. She should not have to chain herself so.

  As the blood ebbed from his loins, he breathed more deeply and considered the larger concern that surfaced. She was willing to compromise herself to avoid her room. Did she fear another break-in? Did she, mayhap, expect the demon to return for the relic, and in so doing, once again find her without?

  He eyed the back of the door, envisioning the woman who lay beyond. Now that his thoughts had retreated from the promise of ecstasy, he sensed the dark presence around him. Caught the faint stench of decay in his nose. They followed her here. Coincidence? Or mayhap strategy?

  Was tonight a means of distracting him so she could free the Veronica for Azazel?

  A chill rolled through him. Surely she could not be capable of such. She had no means of knowing he had planned dinner. She could not possibly stage the priceless moments where she had been an equal participant in the desire that they unleashed.

  Nay. Chloe had not come to his room with the intent of deceit. He would not allow the darkness in his soul to convince him otherwise.

  He turned the door handle and entered the sleeping quarters. Dressed only in her panties and her bra, Chloe lay atop the covers, curled into a tight ball. His heart turned over at the sight of her, and he closed his eyes against an unwelcome surge of feeling. When he had come to care for her, he could not say. But in that moment, as he observed the soft rise and fall of her shoulder and the protective way she sought to shield herself, he realized she had crept beneath his awareness and weaseled into the portion of his heart he sought to keep from her until he knew her purpose.

  Aye, he cared for her more than he ought. And yet he found he did not so much mind the uncomfortable tightening of his chest or the stirring of his cock. ’Twas strangely pleasing to accept she held power over him. To acknowledge that when he took his oath, ’twould be more than words of loyalty and duty he uttered. He would mean every solemn word that bound them together eternally.

  He bent over the table and extinguished the candles. Darkness descended, thick and opaque. For several long seconds he stood in the middle of the room, watching her shadowy form, debating whether he should wake her and offer the sleeping gown that lay on the couch.

  Nay, he decided with a slow shake of his head. He would not rouse her. She would construe his meaning as he desired her to cover herself, when in truth he longed to peel off what remained of her clothes and indulge in the silken nature of her skin.

  Soon enough, they would reach that precipice. But he would push her no further. The next time they came together, be it for a kiss or for the final consummation of desire, ’twould be at her prompting. Under her assurance she wanted to open her body to the will of his. Mayhap even her heart.

  A noise from the window brought him out of his thoughts. He cocked his head, listening to the scratching on the glass. From the bed, a rustling stirred as Chloe burrowed deeper into the mattress. An almost inaudible whimper floated to his ears.

  Fear. Even in sleep, she feared the presence.

  His heart gave a pained little twist.

  Frowning, he crossed to the safe and checked that he had locked the Veronica inside. Then he collected his sword from the corner behind the door and returned to the side of the bed nearest the window. He laid his holy blade on the floor beside the bed and eased atop the quilts. As he rolled onto his side to study Chloe’s delicate face, he blinked on finding her eyes open.

  “You are not asleep?”

  “No,” she whispered as she glanced at the window. “The wind…”

  Not wind, and he recognized the lie for what it was. Yet he did not press for answers. In time she would come to freely speak the truth. He would wait until she was ready.

  Extending his arm, he bade her welcome into his embrace. As if relieved by the prospect, she snuggled close. Lucan reached around her to tug the covers loose. “Lift,” he instructed quietly.

  She obeyed by raising her hips so he could pull the quilt from beneath her body. In one swift arc, he covered her, then shifted to better accommodate the nearness of her body. Chloe settled a warm palm against his chest and let out a contented sigh. “I feel safe here,” she confessed.

  He pulled his fingers through her long hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Aye, you are. Always, my sweet,” he murmured. I would give my soul for yours.

  “Lucan?”

  “Hm.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Shh,” he urged as he ran his palm down the length of her arm. “’Tis naught to discuss.” Picking up her fingers, he laced his through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Know you are welcome here. You need only make your wishes known.”

  Her nails scraped pleasantly across his chest. “That seems selfish when I know you’d like more.”

  Lucan released her hand and splayed his fingers over the curve of her hip. “In time you will want the same.”

  A
shiver gripped her. It vibrated into him, and he sucked in a sharp breath, unprepared for his honesty to have such a physical effect.

  She feathered a light kiss over his shoulder. “Sometimes I already do.”

  “Sleep,” he instructed through a closing throat. “Your words are a greater torment than the nearness of your body.”

  “Kiss me, Lucan?”

  Her whisper came so softly he doubted he heard her correctly. But when she tipped her chin up, and her wide eyes filled with apprehension, he knew his mind did not play tricks. The fist around his heart clamped like a vise, and he debated the logic in obeying her request. He did not trust himself to not fall victim to the spell her sweet flavor wove. And yet he could not stomach the thought of denying her, of taking her back to the humiliation he had caused her the night before.

  Her fingertips drifted across his lips. Skated across his cheek. “Please.”

  His will crumpled under her quiet plea. Groaning, he dragged her close and settled his mouth on hers. The tip of her tongue darted out to slide against his, filling him with her heady flavor. Wine still lingered on her mouth, more intoxicating than the fruity fermentation in the glass. He became intoxicated by the velvety brush and stroke and the warm caress of her breath against his cheek.

  In his arms, she wriggled closer. Her breasts stabbed into his bare chest, her thigh slipped between his. And though her nearness held innocence, his body thrummed with awareness. ’Twould be so easy to use this moment to his advantage. To slide his hand beneath the insignificant strap at her hips and slip his fingertip between her womanly folds. Relaxed and unassuming, trusting he would take this joining of their lips no further, she would never anticipate his intimate caress until he had already coaxed her into willingness. From there, he could roll her onto her back and ease himself inside her waiting warmth before protest could rise in her mind.

  Aye…’Twould be so easy …

  As his cock filled with the prospect of imminent fulfillment, Lucan choked down another groan and tore his mouth from hers. In the quiet, their breaths rasped in harmony. The fall of her fingertips against his chest tortured worse than any hot pokers the Inquisition had once applied to his feet. His body strained with arousal. His heart beat so fiercely he feared ’twould bruise his ribs.