Fleeing Fate

by Anya Richards

  He tried to keep his eyes on her face, knowing his brain would immediately go south again if he didn’t. “We still don’t know which one will work.” He couldn’t believe how rough his voice sounded and knew she understood exactly what was happening when the now familiar blush burned its way across her face. “Give me a minute.”

  “No.” With a shrug, blue silk fluttered to the ground and Jakuta swallowed the pained growl rising into his throat as his lower peripheral vision filled with her breasts.

  He couldn’t avoid looking.

  They were perfect, round and soft, the puckered tips light pink, like the insides of delicate seashells.

  She turned, walked toward the tattoo chair set up in the corner of Hervé’s office, ass swinging, supple muscles in her back shifting beneath pale, enticing skin, making his hands itch to touch. “We’ll try every one if we have to. Even if it takes all night.”

  Chapter Four

  Heart thumping, Gràinne levered her body onto the high tattoo chair and turned her head to look at Jakuta. He was still sitting behind the desk, but his eyes were closed, and his lips moved slightly, as though he were praying.

  She didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Conflicting emotions were turning her inside out. Being with Jakuta seemed to push the importance of why she’d come to the Midnight Café into the background. He’d reduced her to quivering compliance with a kiss. Just one, albeit long and infinitely thrilling. And now she yearned for much, much more, even as her brain screamed for her to remember what she was trying to achieve. The dichotomy was tearing her apart.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?” The rage inside gave her voice a new stridency she hadn’t known she was capable of. “Let’s get going.”

  But she wasn’t prepared for him to rocket out of the chair and stride with surprising swiftness around the desk, bending to retrieve her blouse as he came toward her. And when he passed on his way to the supply table against the wall, tossing the garment at her, all she could do was reflexively catch it.

  “Put on your shirt.”

  “But—”

  “You want the tattoo or not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He spun to face her, shriveling the words on her tongue with his glare. “Then put on your fucking shirt before I come over there and give you more than you bargained for.”

  His words cracked like thunder, matching the lightning flashing in his eyes, and Gràinne knew she should be frightened by his powerful display of emotion. Should, at the very least, want to clutch the shirt over her chest in defense. But she wasn’t scared, and didn’t have even the slightest urge to cover up. Instead his rage touched something deep inside, making her quiver again with suppressed desire. Seeing his reaction, knowing she affected him as strongly as he did her awakened the temptress she didn’t even know lived inside.

  No time for this.

  But she couldn’t seem to stop the little smile that tugged at her lips, or the hot, languorous sensation flowing through her veins, making each move deliberate and teasing.

  “Okay.”

  Taking her time, she sat up to pull one sleeve on, watching him as she did. Arching her back, she reached behind for the other sleeve, seeing his gaze fall to her out-thrust breasts, feeling the heat of his stare like a sweep of fingers over her flesh.

  She was tempting fate and suddenly didn’t care. Desire for him was superseding every other thought and need, and that yearning grew even more intense as his fingers curled into fists and a rumble issued from his slightly parted lips. That mouth had reduced her to mindless arousal with just a kiss. What would it do wrapped around her nipples, skimming her belly, covering her pussy?

  Settling back, she pulled the edges of the blouse across her chest, barely covering her aching nipples, leaving the placket unbuttoned so the inner curves of her breasts were left revealed.

  “Better?”

  Jakuta growled, took a step toward her, and Gràinne’s heart went into overdrive.

  “Make up your damn mind, Gràinne.” His words rolled over her, anger and need mixed together into a potent, heady brew. “All these mixed signals are testing my patience, and I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

  He was right, of course. She was the one who remonstrated him about wasting time, kept him at arm’s length, and then turned around and started channeling her inner siren. Remorse made her want to hang her head, but she wouldn’t allow herself the luxury of hiding.

  “I apologize.” Holding his gaze was excruciating, but somehow she found the strength to do it. Confusion was twisting her in knots. The rush of sensations and emotions devastating. To her shock, she realized tears were stinging her eyes and blinked, trying to hold them back. “I—I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m not normally like this.” She swiped at the moisture trailing down her cheeks. “This whole thing is making me crazy.”

  “What is?” He didn’t come closer, but somehow she felt him relax. When had they become so attuned she could sense every shift in his mood, no matter how small? “Tell me what’s really going on, Gràinne.”

  The way he said her name, so tenderly despite the otherwise interrogatory tone, made more tears well. She couldn’t tell him everything, but he deserved some explanation.

  “Banshees were created to be a warning system for the humans, especially when death is being caused by interference from beyond the Veil. To do that, we have to be emotionless, impassive—watchers rather than participants in the lives of those we guard.” She swallowed, remembering the coldness of her life before, looking back and wondering whether it had been a gift or curse. “I found something that changed me, changed everything.” Clutching her shirt closed, she shook her head, trying to find the words to express what she was going through. “Suddenly all I can do is feel, and I don’t know how to control it.”

  For a long moment he simply stared at her, eyes narrowed, fingers flexing and relaxing, his beautiful face so stern it almost broke her heart.

  “You’ve never felt anything until tonight?”

  That wasn’t strictly true, but she simply said, “Nothing like this.” How could she get him to understand? She held out one hand, relief surging through her as he took it, moved closer. “Can you imagine never feeling anything? Not anger or fear or pleasure? Watching the world around you as though through a pane of glass, never caring or curious, yearning or enraged?”

  He shook his head, and there was a rueful twist to his lips. “I am a creature of emotion, and those emotions have caused me, and those closest to me, nothing but grief. There have been times when I wished for exactly what you’re trying to escape—longed not to feel everything so keenly, so I could avoid reacting.”

  Just the thought of it made her shiver with loathing, and she gave in to the need to touch his face, trace the tribal markings on his cheek. His skin was as soft as she had imagined, the tiny scars a strangely beautiful difference in texture.

  “Never, ever wish for that again. Without emotion you lose everything—the ability to belong, to understand others, even to mark the passage of time. Memory grows from caring about what you saw or experienced. To live without emotion is merely to exist.” She traced his lips, absorbing the tingling warmth through her fingertips, reveling in his sharply indrawn breath. “When I touch you, feel desire rise and heat my body, see the same need reflected in your eyes, I know I never want to go back to the cold, joyless person I was.”

  Lower slipped her fingers, over his chin, down to lightly cup the muscular column of his throat, her thumb stroking the underside of his jaw. Each new place she touched just made her want to explore him further, discover what aroused him, what would make him shake with need, the way she shook. Suddenly being with him, experiencing what it meant to be taken by and give to this man was of tantamount importance. That need forced every other consideration out of her mind.

  “Gràinne, sweetness…” She loved the way his words seemed like gravel-filled velvet. “Be careful.”

  Ignoring
his warning, she flicked open the buttons of his shirt, hearing his breathing grow rougher as each fastening popped free. Finally she could rest both hands on his chest, and they both moaned slightly at the first sweep of her palms over his fiery skin. Finding his nipples tight and puckered, she instinctively pinched them lightly and his eyes grew fierce. But still he didn’t try to touch her in return.

  “Do you know what I pledged to myself when I came here tonight?”

  Without waiting for his response, she pulled his shirt free from his pants. He grabbed her shoulders and she stilled, looked up to meet his gaze.

  “No. Tell me.”

  Leaning forward, she circled one nipple with the tip of her tongue, sighing with pleasure as it grew even tighter, and Jakuta’s skin rippled beneath her teasing fingers. When she spoke her mouth was a hairsbreadth away from his body, and she knew he would feel the words as a cool breeze on his damp flesh.

  “I promised myself to find freedom tonight, even if it were the very last thing I did.” Closing her eyes, she dragged her lips back and forth over his chest before resting them over his rapidly beating heart. “I never knew it would be so incredible.”

  His fingers found her chin, lifted it so she could meet his sparking, searching gaze. “Be sure of what you’re doing, Gràinne. I don’t want to take advantage of your confusion.”

  She laughed softly, curling her hands around so she could squeeze the tight muscles of his ass. “I’m not confused about what I want. Will you make me beg? I don’t mind, if it’ll help.” Releasing him, she sat back, aware of the way her blouse sagged open, the cool air of the room swirling around her breasts, the inferno of his gaze on her face. Reaching down, she unsnapped her jeans, slowly lowered the zipper as she whispered, “Kiss me, Jakuta. Suck my nipples. Touch me everywhere, lick me with that hot, sweet tongue until I scream with bliss. Let me touch and kiss and suck you in return—”

  He didn’t give her a chance to finish what she was saying. Knocking her legs apart, he stepped between them, his mouth coming down on hers with desperate force. His grip was rough as he pulled her to the edge of the chair and flattened her body against his.

  Passion exploded through her, and Gràinne clutched him just as roughly, rocking her hips, grinding her pussy against his rock-hard cock, damning the clothing keeping her from being skin-to-skin with him. Plunging her hands beneath his shirt, she curled her nails into the straining muscles of his back, holding him as close as possible while he ravaged her mouth. Her head spun, her body grew blazing hot and liquid, as though lava flowed where blood should be.

  With unsteady but determined hands he pushed her blouse off her shoulders, and she let go her grip on him only long enough to quickly slide her arms free. He broke their kiss and she murmured her displeasure, trying to find his mouth again. It trailed to her neck, making her head tip back, racking her with shivers, her mind going blank to everything but the deliciousness of his hands, mouth, body.

  When his lips closed over one nipple, Gràinne arched with shock and dug her fingers into his hair, the cry of pleasure rising in her throat choked to silence by the enormity of the sensations. Heat and dampness, seductive swirls of his tongue, the sharp nip of teeth, strong fingers squeezing and molding her flesh all bombarded her, sending her into a frenzy of need.

  Vaguely she was aware of his hand on first one foot and then the other, the removal of her ankle boots. Letting her nipple slide from his mouth, Jakuta grabbed her by the waist and heaved.

  Gràinne gasped in surprise as her ass left the seat. His mouth found her ear and he said, “Take off your pants.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion, and Gràinne shuddered at the commanding tone.

  “Oh Goddess.” It came out as an almost silent moan, but she didn’t hesitate to follow his order. Twisting in his arms first one way then the other, she pushed the jeans down as far as she could, her panties tangling with them and going too.

  “Good girl.” His croon sent another jolt of near-orgasmic pressure through her. She hung on to his shoulders, rubbing her breasts against the unyielding wall of his chest, wanting to wrap her legs around him, frustrated and almost mindless with lust.

  “For the Goddess’ sake.” She dug her nails into his flesh in emphasis. “I need you.”

  He laughed, dropped her back into the chair. Before she could recover, he’d grabbed the legs of her jeans and was hauling them, and her panties, off. Something about his roughness made her arousal peak, made her want to reciprocate, somehow knowing he’d love it. When he got her feet free and straightened, she grabbed the waist of his pants and yanked him forward. Caught by surprise, he was within reach of her mouth before he knew quite what was happening.

  Sweeping his shirt aside, she bit his nipple.

  “Fuck.” He grabbed the back of her head but didn’t push her away. “You make me crazy.”

  The taste of his skin burst on her tongue again, the heat of his body mingled with hers, creating an inferno. She couldn’t get enough of his muscles contracting and rippling beneath her fingers, the way his nipple peaked between her lips. His arousing, earthy scent intensified, filling her head and acting like a shot of adrenaline. She thought she heard drums beating a wild rhythm but realized it was her heart going into overdrive. Sliding her tongue across the contours of his chest, she found the other nipple, treated it to the same caresses. Jakuta growled, arched back, his fingers threaded through her hair and pressed with exciting force against her scalp.

  Dropping her hands to his crotch, she cupped his erection through the denim, a shock of delight going straight to her pussy at the hardness of his cock—evident even through his clothes—and the way it pulsed against her palm.

  He pulled away, dragging her head back by her hair with one hand, grabbing her wrist with the other.

  “Oh no, sweetness.” Bending, he pressed a hard, swift kiss to her lips, releasing her hair to grab her other wrist as she tried to get his fly open one-handed. “You first.”

  Using his foot, he touched a pedal and the chair reclined slightly.

  Gràinne was drowning, unable to catch a full breath or think a complete thought. Her body shook, clamoring for him, and she didn’t try to resist as he nudged her farther back in the chair. Using his grip on her wrists to ease her down until she was recumbent before him, he loomed over her, filled her vision with his dark, beautiful face.

  “You like the feel of my mouth, my tongue?”

  She could only manage a soft moan of assent, a nod.

  “Good.” He growled it, as he lifted her hands above her head and transferred both her wrists to one hand. The other hand trailed down her arm, leaving a rash of goose bumps in its wake. “Because I plan to make a feast of your body, from your neck down to your toes. And if you’re very, very good, I might just make a couple of stops along the way.”

  When he swept his palm over her body, past her breasts, bringing it to rest on her quivering stomach, Gràinne instinctively opened her thighs, a pleading little sound breaking from her lips. His hand inched lower, until the thumb swept the start of her pubic hair. A jagged spear of anticipation made her muscles tighten, and she knew she couldn’t take it if he went slowly.

  “Please.” She whispered it, saw the lightning in his eyes intensify, the storm churning stronger. Rocking her hips up, she repeated, “Please.”

  He said something in a language she couldn’t understand, but she recognized surrender when she heard it and her heart leapt.

  Letting go of her wrists, he dropped to his knees between her thighs and pushed her legs wider apart.

  “Oh sweetness, you’re so wet for me, so beautiful.”

  Pulling her slightly closer to the edge of the chair, Jakuta leaned in. His breath rushed over her thigh and a finger swept through her folds, making her gasp as a jolt of ecstasy lifted her hips off the leather seat and almost brought her to orgasm. When he pressed his palms against her inner thighs, held her pussy open with his thumbs, she went rigid, but her lower body jerked
, pulsing up toward his lips.

  A firm, twisting sweep of his tongue around her clitoris once more almost took her over the edge, but Jakuta didn’t linger there. Instead he set about a thorough exploration, tongue dipping and swooping, slicking over her frantic, pulsing flesh. Each touch was sublime, ratcheting her arousal until it was strung tight, needing only a little more to snap.

  She’d lost control of her body, couldn’t stop it from writhing and rising, as though trying to follow his tongue. If he wasn’t holding her legs apart her thighs would have closed around his head, trying to hold him there to work this miraculous magic until the stars of their world fell from the sky.

  He circled the entrance to her pussy, stroked up into it with his tongue. The caress brought her head up, eyes flying open in response to a deep inner pulse of bliss. Looking down along her body, she met his ravenous gaze and suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to be filled by him. A low cry of desire burst from her throat and Jakuta’s eyes blazed in acknowledgement as he slid his thumb over the same spot, pressed deep.

  “By the Goddess, yes. Oh yes.”

  Lifting her legs, she dug her heels into his shoulders, rocked her hips in time to the circling thrusts of his thumb, the flicker of his tongue against her perineum. But it was becoming too much, the need to come so strong it was as though she hovered on the edge of a sword, waiting for the final slice of the blade.

  He closed his lips over her clitoris, began to suck.

  Release was like a ball of fire exploding deep in her belly and rushing with devastating, cleansing force through every vein and sinew in her body. Behind her tightly closed eyelids were flashes of white. All she could hear was the booming thunder of her heart. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out except a series of harsh, high gasps.

  It was like being flung into a wild river, buffeted on all sides and flung over the falls into ecstasy. Never had she been so aware of her body and yet so unable to control its reactions. Her legs were stiff, flung over his shoulders, tingling ribbons flashing and whipping around them with each inner pulse around his thumb. Heat rushed over her body and up into her face like the swell of a giant, drowning wave, leaving her stomach trembling, her breasts tingling and tight in its wake.