She redoubled her efforts to free her wrists from his grip, and this time he relented, using the opportunity to hook his arm under her shoulder to better pin her in place. Ivy almost sobbed with relief, finally able to touch him, to stroke her hands over the shifting, rippling muscles of his back as he moved like a great machine above her.
“Baen.” She whimpered his name, everything inside her tightening as he stroked deep and hard within her.
“Come for me,” he ordered. “Again. Come on my cock.”
His formal manner of speech had deserted him, but the blunt, graphic words only made Ivy more frantic. Her nails bit into his flesh and she tilted her hips, searching for the perfect angle, the perfect pressure to send her sailing over the edge. But Baen was the one who found it. With a grunt, he released her hip and grabbed the back of her knee, pressing her leg back against her chest and opening her even wider. Another thrust drove him deeper inside her and pressed his pelvis hard against her, providing just the right pressure to her swollen clit.
She came again, silently this time. She didn’t have the breath to scream. Every inch of her body seemed to clench tighter than a fist, the climax almost painful in its intensity. It rolled over her like a tsunami, fast and brutal and quickly retreating back to the sea.
Vaguely, she became aware of Baen’s last quick, hard movements, of his body going still and taut above her, of the roar that broke from him as he poured himself into her. All she could do was hang on and clutch at him bonelessly as he collapsed on top of her.
After that, she could barely even breathe.
Literally. The Guardian weighed a ton. It felt as if he were still made of solid stone.
Ivy pushed weakly at his shoulders, and eventually, he grunted and shifted far enough to the side to allow her lungs to reinflate. Honestly, they were the only part of herself she could be certain still worked. Everything else felt as limp and useless as wilted flowers, including her brain.
Ah, what the hell, she decided, as she felt exhaustion wash over her. She’d gotten this far without using her brain. What harm would a few more hours do?
Keeping that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and let her body sink fully into the soft, duvet-covered mattress. The fleeting thought occurred that she should probably be sleeping under said duvet rather than on top, but with the huge hunk of man next to her pumping out heat like a forest fire, she figured she wasn’t likely to catch cold.
Now, if only she could figure out how to catch ‘smart’ instead of letting her brain turn off whenever he looked at her …
She drifted off, determined to figure it all out tomorrow. After all, chances were she’d have more mistakes to add to her list before she even sat down to breakfast.
She was just lucky like that.
Chapter Twelve
A sharp, well-placed kick to the stomach woke Baen from a sound sleep, which turned out to be the first surprise. After all the time he’d spent locked in his stone form, he hadn’t expected to need so much as a catnap for a very long time, and yet clearly, that hadn’t been the case. The second surprise came with the discovery that the kick had come from the shockingly small and delicate foot attached to the leg of his sleeping mate.
Ivy had just booted him in the breadbasket, and by the looks of it, she didn’t even realize it had happened.
She lay on the narrow bed in much the same position as she had fallen asleep, flat on her back, her head turned to the side and her legs parted. Baen should know; he’d spent the last couple of hours dozing between them, and he’d never felt more comfortable or content in all the centuries of his existence. As far as he was concerned, the decision had been made and Fate had spoken. Ivy was his, and he would spend all the nights of his future in exactly that same place.
Though hopefully, next time she wouldn’t kick him.
He frowned down at her sleeping form, wondering what had prompted her to kick him. While he had seen her wield a knife against the demons in that London alley, the last thing he would call his redheaded little female was violent. She might have a temper, but from everything he had witnessed so far, she was more likely to attack with a sharp comment than a sharp object.
Besides, they had both been asleep a minute ago. As difficult as he knew she found him at times, he doubted he had managed to piss her off while unconscious. Even he wasn’t that bad. Was he?
Ivy turned her head against the pillow, her brows furrowing above her shuttered eyelids. Was she having some sort of nightmare? he wondered. Should he try to wake her?
He debated with himself, but while she continued to frown in her sleep, his mate did not cry out or move about restlessly. She simply lay there, breathing evenly and looking … worried. Perhaps she simply dreamed about something puzzling or confusing. She had been through so much the previous night and day. Did he really want to disturb her rest without more evidence that it might be necessary?
Before Baen could make a decision, Ivy made it for him. Her eyes fluttered open and she struggled into a sitting position, blinking a few times until her gaze focused on him. She looked at him blankly for a moment before recognition appeared to dawn.
“Baen?”
He wrapped an arm around her and cuddled her against his cheek. “Are you all right, little one? You looked as if you might be having an unpleasant dream.”
She shook her head, accepting his embrace, seemingly unaware of her nudity. Baen, on the other hand, was highly aware of it. Her sweet pink nipples were warm and soft and he wanted to draw one into his mouth and tease it until it beaded up into a firm little raspberry.
“I wasn’t dreaming at all,” she said. “I was listening.”
Her words almost slipped past him, but something managed to poke through and activate the reasoning centers in his brain instead of just the animal ones. He forced his gaze away from her breasts and met hers.
“What did you hear?” he asked.
“I’m not entirely sure. It was confusing,” she said. “There were a lot of voices, and I didn’t know any of them, which always makes it harder to guess at context. Hearing people I know comes through clearer for me. But I thought I heard someone mention our names.”
“Ours? Yours and mine?”
“Yes.”
He digested that. “Was it the other Guardians? Or do you think it was the Order?”
“I don’t know. It really was a lot like eavesdropping this time, like listening to a conversation from the other side of a wall. Usually, I feel like I’m right there in the same room as whatever I hear. This time, I probably missed a lot of nuance and inflection, from tone of voice and that kind of thing.” She rubbed her face, looking tired. “Hell, I must have. I’m pretty sure I missed entire words and phrases here and there. It was really weird.”
Baen considered that and what it could mean. Ivy had been fairly reluctant to discuss her talent, so he wasn’t certain he really understood how it worked. That made identifying differences between this experience and the ones in her past more of a challenge.
“What was your impression of what you heard?” he asked.
She looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“When you think about the conversation, did it make you anxious, as if you were listening to a vitriolic argument? Did you feel afraid, as if it posed some sort of danger to you? What impression did it leave when you woke up?”
That made her pause and think. He let her mull it over, stroking her arm with soothing motions while he waited.
“Confused, I guess?” she finally ventured, still sounding puzzled over it. “I definitely wasn’t afraid. After yesterday, I’m not real likely to forget how terror feels. And I don’t feel like anyone was yelling or anything, which might make me think I was overhearing a fight. But I definitely wasn’t relaxed. Somehow whatever they were talking about made me feel like it was stuff I needed to know about. Like it was important somehow.”
“And do you remember any of what was said?”
“No, and that’s
weird, too. Usually I have a really clear memory of what I heard, but not about this.” She shivered and automatically leaned closer to Baen’s heat. He tried not to focus on the thrill that gave him. “Maybe it wasn’t an episode at all. Maybe I was just having a really weird dream with no memorable visual components.”
Somehow, Baen doubted it. He didn’t know if it was possible for humans to dream without accompanying visions. He’d never heard of anything like that. But regardless of what was possible, Ivy’s first instinct had been to tell him it wasn’t a dream, and he believed her. She had a rare gift, but she’d been living with it for her entire life; she would know when it was active.
“No,” he said. “I do not think it was a dream. I asked you that the instant you woke, and you dismissed the idea. Your subconscious knows the difference, even when you doubt it.”
“I guess.”
Ivy shivered again and wrapped her arms around herself, seeming to notice for the first time that she had been sitting up in bed talking to him while completely naked. He certainly hadn’t minded, but as soon as Ivy realized it, a beguiling flush started across her chest and climbed up until it disappeared into her hairline. It made him want to trace the same path with his tongue.
She fumbled beneath her for the duvet, tugging at the corner only to find it pinned beneath them and completely unable to cover her up. Baen had no intention of moving. He let a faint smile touch his lips and shifted his hand from its comforting caress of her upper arm to a much more intimate stroking over the outer curve of her breast. She remained warm from sleep and from the heat of her bashful blush, and the softness of her skin, the sweet curve of her figure, made his mouth water for another taste of her.
“So, um, I guess it’s pretty late,” she said, glancing quickly at the darkness outside the hotel room window. “We, uh, we should probably try to get some more sleep. You know, big day tomorrow.”
“Hm. I am not tired.” He leaned down to nibble the curve of her collarbone, teeth and tongue tracing the delicate sweep beneath a layer of milky skin. The dusting of freckles really did taste almost like cinnamon to him, combining with her natural citrus scent to make him think of pomanders and Yuletide celebrations and long, lazy nights in front of roaring fires.
Once their battle was won and the Darkness had been defeated, he would like to lay his mate down before a fire. He would watch as soft fur tickled her bare skin and the flames gilded it to a rosy gold. Then he would block out the fire and keep her warm in a much more intimate, much more satisfying manner.
Yes, he could hardly wait.
In fact, perhaps he should sneak in a little practice right now, just so he could make certain everything would be perfect. As perfect as the feel of her warm, wet pussy clenching around his shaft. The need to feel that again nearly knocked him off the bed. Never in his existence had he felt such hunger, and only his mate could satisfy it.
“Baen.”
Her small palms pressed against his shoulders, but she didn’t seem to be exerting much effort in trying to push him away. In fact, the way her fingers opened and closed over his bare skin felt like the kneading motions of a happy little kitten.
“Baen,” she repeated, sounding more breathless than the last time. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea…”
How could it possibly be a bad one? Ivy was his mate. He had suspected it from the first kiss, and knew for certain the instant he slipped inside her. This female had been made for him, created by the Light to complement him and to save him from an eternity trapped in the stone of his own natural form.
And by the same token, he had been made for her. He existed to guard and protect her, to defend her against the Darkness and to keep her safe from all harm. What could possibly be wrong about that?
Wrapping one arm around her back, he cuddled his reluctant mate against his chest and used his free hand to cup the round weight of her breast, brushing his thumb in feather strokes over the tip. Instantly, her areola drew tight, pulling her skin into all those fascinating little crinkles and making the nipple poke out into his palm.
He felt her melting into his touch, felt her muscles softening and allowing her weight to relax into him. It only made him hungrier to feel more.
“Baen, I mean it.”
She tried again to protest, but she couldn’t even lift her head from his shoulder where it had fallen when he’d begun to fondle her breast. She gazed up at him with those wide gray eyes gone hazy and unfocused and she looked so sweet and innocent and tempting that he wanted to devour her in three quick bites.
“We shouldn’t do this. It’s going to make everything complicated.”
“Nothing is simpler,” he reassured her, then cut off any possibility of further protest by the simple expedient of kissing her breathless.
She gave up, gave in to the magnetic pull between them, and let herself dissolve into the kiss. He felt it in the way she seemed to pour over him like warmed quicksilver, infinitely malleable and yet impossible to truly grasp.
She met each stroke of his tongue with one of her own, and instead of pushing him away, she began to press herself closer. Shifting onto her knees, she rose up to even out the difference in their heights. Then, still not content, she swung one leg across his to settle onto his hips with the grace of a well-trained knight mounting up for battle.
Baen had every intention of winning this war.
He grasped her hips and pulled her even closer, pressing his erection into the soft heat between her thighs. He could not bite back the growl of pleasure as he felt himself grow slick from her moisture. The proof that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her made him feel more triumphant than his greatest victory as a warrior. It was all he could do not to throw his head back and issue his battle cry.
But that would have meant ending their kiss, and nothing was worth that.
He gloried in the feel of her slim arms twining themselves about him, cradling him to her as her fingers sifted through his hair and her nails teased light scratches across his scalp. It felt as if electricity danced on the tips of her fingers, igniting every single nerve he possessed, one by one.
Holding her tightly against him, he reclined back against the pillows and pulled her along until her torso lay draped across his like a living blanket. With her full breasts and soft skin, though, she felt better than any blanket ever woven.
When she shifted, clamping her thighs against his hips and pushing herself up on her hands, he tried to protest, but she broke the kiss and hushed him.
“This time it’s my turn to drive you crazy,” she told him, and his arguments died under the power of her wicked smile.
Fighting to remain still, he gave up any hope of relaxing, and told himself she would have to be content that he merely restrained himself. If he lasted ten minutes without flipping them over and pinning her beneath him, it would be a bloody miracle.
Then she gave her hips a sensual twist and he decided five would require some form of divine intervention.
Her back arched, thrusting her breasts forward so that his hands were reaching for them before he even realized it. He cupped and cuddled the soft weights, savoring the smooth silk of her skin against his rough palms. After the hard frantic pace of their first joining, he felt the urge to treat her with more care and delicacy. She was so tiny compared to him, so fragile, that he should be trying to rein in his strength and treat her like something too important to bruise or break.
As if sensing his thoughts, her gaze narrowed and her hands came up over his, pressing them more firmly against her. She encouraged him to squeeze and knead as she ground their hips together in a way that felt far from delicate.
“Don’t hold back on me now,” she said, her gray eyes gone dark and smoky. “I’m a big girl, Baen. I can take whatever you dish out.”
His mind might hesitate, but his cock urged him to take her at her word. It just urged him to take her.
But Ivy seemed determined to be the one doing the taking. Raisi
ng herself over him, she reached between their bodies to grip his erection in those slender fingers and guide him to her entrance.
“Here,” she whispered, her lips curving in an expression of naughty challenge. “Let me show you.”
And she impaled herself on him with one smooth stroke.
Baen bit out a curse. Her body closed around him like a wet furnace, squeezing hard enough to have his balls immediately drawing up tight. If he didn’t get ahold of himself, he would be spilling inside of her before he managed a single thrust. She deserved so much better than that. She deserved to feel every bit of the pleasure she was lavishing on him.
Remembering the way her whole body had quivered when he played with her nipples, he shifted his grip on her breasts to take the little peaks between fingers and thumbs. His nails scraped over the tight buds, and he felt her reaction in the way her pussy quivered around him. Fascinated by the instant connection between those two erogenous zones, he pinched the flushed tips lightly, then gradually increased the pressure until she moaned and her pussy tightened, milking his cock like a fist.
A groan of his own escaped. She felt like heaven, and he was quickly becoming addicted to the sensations.
She began to move above him, rocking her hips in a way that stroked both of them along all their most sensitive nerve endings. The pressure ground her clit against his hips, but it soon became obvious that wasn’t enough for her. Her breathing changed to panting and she braced her hands against his chest as she began to lift and lower her hips, riding him with intense focus.
Baen grasped her hips and moved with her, thrusting up to meet her downward thrusts, trying to get as deep inside her as possible. He wanted her to feel him all the way to her center, all the way to her heart. He wanted to embed himself inside her until there was no way she could fail to recognize that Fate had created them for each other.
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