by P. C. Cast
“Alia.” That voice… God. So deep and dark and delicious. It was hypnotic. A low, rich rumble. Compelling… intoxicating with its beauty. The sound of that deep baritone saying her name was nearly her undoing. “Oh, Jesus. I tried to warn you last night that you shouldn’t tempt me like this. It’s so wrong, Alia.”
Wrong? How could anything this wonderful possibly be wrong? she thought hazily, as he lowered her to the blanket, covering her with his hardness and his heat. “It doesn’t feel wrong,” she whispered, reaching up with her hand to touch the scratchy surface of his jaw. “It feels too good to be wrong, Rhys. It feels too good to stop.”
“I’ll no doubt go to hell for this, but if…if you trust me,” he said huskily, touching his tongue to the beat of her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat, “I can give you more. But we have to be careful.”
She answered eagerly with her body, spreading her legs beneath him as she arched her hips, and he growled, “Pull up your dress. Show me yourself, Alia.”
His suddenly straightened arms shook as he lowered his gaze, watching as she gripped handfuls of crinkled blue fabric, slowly pulling her dress up, each grasping clutch revealing more…and more to his sharp, predatory gaze. Ankles and calves. Her bent knees and the pale inner surface of her thighs. She was endlessly thankful that she’d stripped her drawers off before going to sleep, leaving her naked beneath the dress.
As he stared down at her, his eyes burned. Smoldered. He made a rough sound deep in his throat, and then he was shifting position, his left arm bending, taking his weight as he pushed his right hand between her legs, palming the damp, tender flesh there. She cried out, shocked by the burst of sweet, wicked sensation that slammed through her, seizing her in a dizzying clutch of pleasure. Cursing an erotic string of words under his breath, he slipped his fingers knowingly through the drenched, intimate folds of her sex, while gazing down at her with a dark, powerful intensity, as if it would hurt him to look away. There was something painfully intimate about the look on his face as he touched that most sensitive part of her, and she trembled as his thumb stroked over the hardened knot of flesh that seemed to hold her heartbeat.
“Have you ever given yourself a release?” he asked, his voice low and rough. He stared into her eyes as he waited for her answer, and stroked the tip of his longest finger around her tender opening, again and again, until she was shaking and hot, her face damp. “Have you, Alia?”
She shook her head, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, knowing exactly what she wanted from him, despite her innocence. “Please,” she whispered, arching, feeling as if she’d burn alive if he didn’t help her… easing the heavy ache that had settled low in her body. As she pleaded, his eyes narrowed, crinkling sexily at the corners, and then he was sinking that long finger into her sex, pressing it inside…sinking deep, and she whimpered at the delicious sensation. “Oh, God,” she said brokenly, lifting her hips, marveling at how different the penetration felt from anything she’d ever imagined. Her fantasies about him had always been soft-focused and sweet, like a girl’s dreams. But Rhys touched her as though she was a woman, pulling that long, hot finger out to the mouth of her sex, then thrusting back in, working against the tight, natural resistance of her body.
“Lift your knees higher,” he said in a raw voice, and as she followed his command, he worked a second finger in alongside the first, stretching that narrow part of her. Her skin was fever-damp and hot, as if heat were pouring from his hand, up into her body, melting her from the inside out. He thrust his fingers harder, deeper, the muscles bulging in his arm…his thumb rubbing wickedly against her softly pulsing clit. Leaning down, he scraped his teeth across her cloth-covered nipple, and she sobbed something that sounded too shivery to be pain. The breathtaking wave of pleasure grew, sensation building upon sensation like the spiraling, hypnotic notes of a song, and Alia could feel herself climbing higher…and higher, reaching for something that she desperately wanted to find. To grab hold of.
And then she suddenly reached the crest, and crashed deliciously over the edge into a thick, mistlike oblivion that was warm and honeyed and sweet. It went on for endless, drugging moments, until her body was finally languid and soft, boneless, drenched with lingering, teasing pulses of pleasure, her throat raw from the sharp force of her cries. It took all her strength to force her heavy eyes open, but was worth the effort when she found Rhys’s dark face close to hers, his eyes burning with hunger, his expression one of pure, unadulterated need.
She gave him a small, shy smile as he purposefully moved the fingers buried deep inside her, stroking them lightly against her sensitive inner tissues, as if he wanted to remind her of where he was…of what he’d done. That he was penetrating her. That he’d made her come apart in his arms with nothing more than a touch. And then he was pulling his fingers from her tight hold, his voice a dark, velvety rasp as he said, “I wonder if you taste as good as you feel.”
With wide eyes, Alia watched him lift his hand to his lips, taking the two glistening fingers inside his mouth. A deep moan rumbled in his chest, as if he was swallowing pleasure, and then he pulled the digits free, staring down at her with an awed, arrested expression. “I’ve never done that before,” he admitted in a deep voice that reminded her of a rich, burnished brandy.
She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, still dazed by the lingering pulses of bliss that rolled through her, languid and warm and rich. “Done what?”
He pressed his hips against hers, letting her feel the shocking size of his hardened shaft, and placed his warm hand against the side of her throat, stroking the tender skin beneath her chin with his callused thumb. “Made a woman reach her peak with nothing more than my fingers. Or put her taste in my mouth.”
Her eyes went round. She would have thought a worldly man like Rhys would have already experienced everything there was sexually. “You haven’t?”
He gave her a wry, tender smile. “The women I’ve taken to bed have only been interested in my—” He suddenly cut himself off, the faintest tinge of pink warming his cheekbones, and she realized he was blushing. She could well imagine what he’d been about to say. The massive ridge of his erection was still lodged heavily against her softly pulsing core, her body desperate for the feel of him inside of her. And yet she wanted more than his magnificent body. She wanted, in a word, everything.
Pushing his damp hair back from his brow, she murmured, “Well, I’m interested in all of you. In fact, I think I could become quite addicted to having your hands on me.”
“Christ, don’t say that,” he said raggedly, his body flinching in reaction.
“Why?” she asked. “It’s true. When you touch me I lose my mind. I lose everything, until there’s nothing but you and the way you make me feel. Is it always like this between lovers?”
He shook his head, starting to pull away, his expression grim, but she refused to let him go, digging her fingers into his hard biceps. Though he could have easily broken her hold, he cursed and lowered his body back against hers, instantly taking her mouth in another deep, eating kiss. He kissed her until she couldn’t remember her name…until she’d forgotten what it was like to breathe…to not have his mouth on hers. When he finally broke away, she pulled in huge lungfuls of air, her eyes squeezed tight against the burning rush of tears. Her neck arched as he kissed his way down her throat, his big hand pushing its way back between her legs.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he rasped, kissing a damp path across her bared shoulder, while his fingers teased her tender, swollen opening. She shivered, and he suddenly pressed three fingers inside the tight entrance at the same time he closed his teeth on the sensitive cord between her shoulder and neck. He growled as he bit down hard enough to leave a mark, the thick penetration of his fingers and the aggressive hold of his mouth shoving her into another hard, pulsing burst of pleasure. She cried out again, the keening sound echoing sharply off the rocky walls of the cave until it sounded like a thousand voices screaming ou
t in ecstasy.
The blissful, addictive explosion of heat that fired through her body scared her with its intensity, and Alia knew, in that moment, that she was capable of taking this too far without making her confession. And no matter how badly she wanted it, she couldn’t do that to Rhys.
“Sorry,” he whispered in a low, aching rasp as he pressed his lips to the burning mark on her shoulder. He kissed the reddened skin, then dragged his mouth against her flesh as he made his way back to her mouth. He gentled her with a deep, hungry kiss that coursed through her like a warm, intoxicating wine. He said so much with the touch of his mouth against hers—without using a single word—and she felt the burn of tears rush up from the depths of her soul. She could taste herself on his lips…his tongue, the startling intimacy breaking her open, like something fragile and vulnerable that had no defenses. I love him, she thought, knowing it was irrevocably true. Loved him in ways that she couldn’t even put words to, they were so precious and tender and soft.
He lifted a few inches away to stare down at her, his gaze piercing, fingers long and thick within her body, barely moving as they continued to gently thrust within her. “Are you bewitching me, Alia? Using your magic on me?”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I…thought about it, but could never bring myself to do it. It would be wrong. A violation of your…heart. I could never do that to you, Rhys.”
He studied her face, touching upon each feature with his smoldering gaze, and she could tell the instant he decided to believe her. “I know I need to leave you alone, but I can’t stop. Not yet,” he groaned, touching her deeper. “I want to put my mouth on you, first. Touch you with my tongue.”
The rough, huskily spoken words made her shiver. Made her long to surrender. But she’d made a promise to herself. One that she knew she had to keep, no matter how badly she wanted to simply give in and lose herself to the beauty of his possession.
Staring into his beautiful eyes, she asked the one question that could change the path of her future. “Do you care about me, Rhys?”
His gaze slid away, his expression instantly tightening with what looked like an angry regret as he took his hand from her body, leaving her cold inside. Empty. “It wouldn’t matter if I did, Alia.”
“So then you don’t?” she pressed, feeling as if her heart was about to shatter into a million pieces.
“It doesn’t matter, one way or another,” he said heavily, his jaw tight. “I could never make a life with you. It’s…impossible.”
It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, telling him the truth. “And I can’t let this go any further, Rhys. Not if you don’t love me.”
A hard sound jerked from his grim mouth, like something caught between a bitter laugh and a scornful snarl, and he slowly met her tear-filled gaze, his eyes burning fiercely with heat. The silvery gray was liquid and bright with unmistakable warning. “Trust me, Alia,” he said softly. “You don’t want me to love you.”
“Then we have to stop.” Gritting her teeth, she fought for the strength to push him away, the solid muscles of his chest hard and firm beneath her hands. He was too strong and heavy for her to physically move, but he followed her cue and climbed to his feet.
Shifting into a sitting position, she opened her mouth as she pulled her skirt over her knees, but before she could say anything, he cut her off, saying, “There’s no need for an explanation. You did the smart thing.”
She couldn’t stop the trembling of her mouth…her body. “I w-wish you’d let me explain.”
“What’s to explain?” he rasped, pulling one hand down his face, his gaze focused intently on some distant patch of ground, as if he was being careful not to look at her. “You were right to stop this, Alia. More so than you even realize. There are things about the Charteris that most outsiders don’t know. Important things.”
“Like what?” she whispered.
Like what? Such an innocent question, and yet Rhys hated to have to give her an answer.
Scraping his roughened palm over his jaw, he suddenly thought of how she’d called him beautiful. Such a strange thing for him to remember, when he knew he was anything but. Of all the adjectives that could be used to describe him, beauty wasn’t one of them. At several inches over six feet and packed with hard, powerful muscle, he was accustomed to inspiring fear in people. Women tended to be interested in him only as a sort of challenge—as if they enjoyed risking intimacy with a wild, dangerous creature. They didn’t see him as a thing of beauty—they simply saw him as a thing.
And now Alia would think the same. He took a moment to savor the way she’d looked at him before, her blue eyes soft and sweet and full of longing, then forced himself to tell her the truth.
6
“There’s a kind of physiological transformation that happens when we have sex with someone we…care about,” Rhy explained, “which can be deadly if the woman isn’t of Charteris blood. If she’s someone who inspires strong emotion within us, but whose body is vulnerable. There are many who believe that it was meant to ensure we only bred within the clan, keeping the species pure, since our seed is only fertile during this…period of change. But no one really knows for sure.”
Alia worked his confession over in her mind, and began to understand so much that hadn’t made sense before. “That’s why you said it was surprising that your father hadn’t killed your mother in their marriage bed, isn’t it? Because she wasn’t Charteris.” She frowned in confusion as another thought occurred to her. “But you also said that they disliked each other intensely. So then why would it have been dangerous?”
“I’ve often heard that love and hate are both sides of the same coin,” he told her. “I guess I’ve always thought that with the level of…animosity between them, it might have caused the transformation to take place.” And the fact that I was conceived means that my father must have experienced at least some degree of change.
Clearing her throat, she quietly asked, “What happens, exactly?”
He was silent for a moment, standing with his rigid body turned slightly away from her, his head angled down as he stared intently at some distant point on the ground. “We remain unchanged, so long as we’re sharing intercourse with a woman who means nothing to us. But when our emotions are involved, the change takes place and we literally burn with heat. Our bodies. Our…seed. Not just warmth, but enough heat to physically burn. To melt your flesh. To have sex with a woman we care about who isn’t a Charteris is to kill her.” A low, bitter laugh fell from his lips, and he shook his head. “I guess that’s why those of us who live away from the clan are all such coldhearted bastards. We know better than to tempt fate.”
“So then all this time we’ve spent dancing around each other,” she murmured, “you’ve kept your distance because you were afraid of hurting me?”
He made a rough sound in his throat, his tall, muscular body vibrating with a powerful tension, hands fisted at his sides. “I already have hurt you,” he growled, cutting a glittering look toward the juncture between her neck and shoulder, where the impression of his teeth could still be seen. “The heat isn’t the only thing that makes us dangerous. We’re primal creatures at heart, prone to dominance and aggression. To put it bluntly, Alia, we’re rough as hell.”
“I might have cried out when you bit me, but I’m not harmed, Rhys. I don’t break that easily, or have you forgotten that I’m no more human than you are?”
A strange look crept over his face, darkening his gaze. “You look human enough,” he grunted.
“As do many of the ancient clans,” she said carefully, “yourself included. But just because I might look breakable, doesn’t mean that I am. I’ll admit that I don’t have your incredible size or strength, but I’m not completely without my own resources.”
He arched one brow in an arrogant look of disbelief. “Have you forgotten your Merrick blood is dormant, Alia?”
A ghost of a smile played at the corner of her mouth. “I’m also half Re
avess, Rhys. I’m nowhere near as vulnerable as a human female.”
His head tilted a fraction to the side and he took a hesitant step toward her, his expression arrested. “Then why did you stop me? You were…afraid. I could hear the tremor of fear in your voice.”
“But not of you,” she corrected him. “I just… I was afraid of trapping you.”
“What does that mean?” Rhys grunted with a hard burst of impatience.
She pulled her lower lip through her teeth, her cheeks flushed with heat as she nervously said, “The Reavess don’t come into their full powers until we’re twenty, which means I’m still a novice in many ways. Still learning… still awakening to the gifts that I’ve inherited from my mother. But there are aspects of being Reavess that are already a part of me. That’s why I stopped you. If we were to… ”
He stared, waiting for the words to fall from her lips, when a sound drew his attention. Rhys instantly held up his hand in a wordless command for silence, just as a tall body moved into the mouth of the cave, silhouetted against the darkening morning sunlight, the distant sky going gray with clouds. He couldn’t make out the intruder’s face, but he knew in an instant who it was, and pain burned through his insides at the knowledge. “Barrett?” he croaked, hoping like hell this didn’t mean what he thought it did. What he knew it did.
“Thank God I’ve found you,” the soldier called out, lifting his hand in greeting.
Rhys narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Barrett’s expression turned grim. “I decided to join you last night in Wolcott, but you’d already left by the time I got there. Figuring I might as well stay and enjoy myself, I was still drinking in the tavern when word came around that there were people searching for Alia in the village. I followed them,” he explained, his words rough with anger, “and it didn’t take long to learn what had happened. Thankfully, I was able to track you from your scent.”