Prophecy (Book One in the Prophecy Series)

by Lea Kirk

  The lantern in Gryf’s hand lit the passage around them with dancing shadows. They passed by another chalk arrow drawn on the wall, pointing the way to the suite. Alex swallowed, and pressed her free hand against her stomach. Soon she would join her body with Gryf’s again. This time as husband and wife. A jolt of heat hit her right between her legs. Think of something, anything else, before you jump his bones right here in the tunnel.

  “The reaction of the kids when Nicky and Bodie played the airship song was priceless.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Cripes, could she sound anymore lame? Why was she so nervous? It wasn’t as if they’d never done this before.

  “It was a nice bit of bribery before sending them off to bed.” Amusement crinkled the corners of Gryf’s eyes.

  A silly giggle escaped her. “And Simone got Graig to dance to Desperado. She loves that song.”

  “She’s good for him,” Gryf observed with a fond smile.

  “That’s what Graig said about me.”

  “That you are good for him?”

  “No.” Alex waved her hand to dismiss his teasing. “That I am good for you.”

  He gave her a side-long look. “How much of that wine did you drink?”

  Another giggle bubbled out. “Maybe a little more than I should have. Do you know what Ora told me at the hot spring today?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  She rounded on him, stepping into his path and wrapping her arms behind his neck. “She said that our soul mate bond will deepen because we’re married.”

  Gryf’s eyes darkened, desire flickered in their depths. The pad of his thumb traced along her cheek. “There are accounts of soul mates who could share their mate’s pain, or help them through situations that would have otherwise killed them. Some have been able to hear each other’s thoughts when in danger, heal each other without physical contact, or pin-point where their mate is at any given moment. Even in the dark.”

  Oh, my. She swallowed hard. “You, um, knew that already?”

  “Not verbatim,” he murmured. “Dante gave me the same speech, sans the part about the dark.”

  She fingered the hair curling up at the nape of his neck and pressed closer. “Gryf, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m only a little tipsy. I promise not to fall asleep.”

  “Animi.” His voice was rough as he dipped his head closer. “If you fall asleep, then I will need to reevaluate my technique.”

  Heat surged through her, and her legs filled with gelatin. Holy freaking cow.

  His lips molded to hers and she opened to him. He tasted of wine, mellow and rich, and she deepened the kiss. A low growl vibrated through Gryf.

  She pulled away, panting. “We need to find our room.” Fast. Before she had her way with him right here in the tunnel.

  Gryf glanced over her shoulder and shoved the lantern into her hand. “We are here already, animi.”

  She emitted a squeak as he lifted her in his arms. In two steps he pushed them through a blanket-covered opening and into the warm room beyond.

  Low light glowed from the lutep units placed at intervals along the walls. The furnishings were sparse; just two camp chairs, a small table between them, and an inflatable camping mattress covered with sleeping bags.

  Alex raised her brows and nodded. “Homey. I like it.”

  Gryf lowered her until her feet touched one of the many soft rugs covering the rocky floor. “Only two things in here interest me at this moment, animi. You and the bed.”

  Oh. She couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen. Gryf cradled her head in his hands, leaning close until his mouth was centimeters from hers. “I can’t believe we are here at last.”

  “Gryf.” His name escaped her like a sigh.

  Lips a fraction cooler than her own brushed her mouth, then more insistent. His tongue sought hers, caressing and teasing as heat built again between her legs. All the need to take him deep inside her returned with the force of a wildfire. She slid her arms around his waist and a growl reverberated from his throat. His arms tightened around her as his shaft pressed against her lower belly. Her muscles clenched and unclenched in response, as if he was already driving into her, bringing her closer to release.

  She broke off the kiss. “Gryf.” Cripes, she was panting like a dog in heat. But she couldn’t help it, not while both her desire and his coursed through her. Her entire body was primed to explode with sexual bliss.

  “I know. I feel you too,” he whispered, his forehead touching hers. His knuckles grazed down her back, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t move.”

  “Whatever you say.” If he asked her to stand on her head and whistle Yankee Doodle, she would.

  He moved away to walk the perimeter of the small cave, lowering the brightness of the lights. Damn. His dark-grey uniform accentuated his long, muscular frame—and his butt. Her eyes latched on to that particular body part and one corner of her mouth rose. I’m married to that butt.

  Gryf turned toward her a faint blue glow shining in his eyes. He approached her with a slow, measured stride. Her love, her soul mate, her husband.

  He stopped in front of her, and traced one finger down her cheek and over her lips. “I will know you completely this night, Alexandra. And you will know me.”

  How was it that every time he spoke, her legs went numb? The low rumble of his voice seemed to touch the deepest, most secret places in her with a promise of more than a lifetime together.

  “I think I forgot how to breathe.” Her admission came out in a choked whisper.

  “I am familiar with that feeling, compa.” His gaze drifted downward, stopping at her sweater-covered breasts. His desire surged through their soul link, and she closed her eyes as she absorbed its intensity. Vibrations hummed along her nerves. God, what happened tonight would either kill them both, or be the most amazing sex she’d ever experienced.

  His fingers grasped the hem of her sweater and lifted it over her head. Cool air prickled over her heated skin as his hand glided over the worn satin of her bra, cupping her breast. Then he stepped back, the expression on his face turning urgent.

  “I need to feel you, your skin against mine. It overwhelms me.” His hands shook as he worked the seal of his uniform shirt. “You can teach me how to operate your support garment later.”

  She made quick work of removing her bra. No sooner did she drop it to the floor than Gryf enveloped her in his strong arms. Her breasts flattened against broad expanse of his chest, and her nipples hardened.

  “Alexandra,” he whispered.

  “Eternally.” The word fell softly from her lips.

  “Eternally,” he echoed.

  He dipped his head to reclaim her mouth. This time his kiss was thorough and slow, as though they had all the time in the world to “know” each other. His tongue caressed hers, then he moved down to trail soft kisses along her jaw. A moan welled up, and she tipped her head back.

  His lips and tongue fluttered against her pulse before working their way down until his mouth closed over one nipple, every pull and nip sending electric jolts straight into her womb. How much more could she take? Wave after wave of hot pleasure moved through her as he turned his attention to her other breast, giving it the identical treatment. A coil of pressure built at her core, promising a release so sweet she might cry once it was over.

  Cool air brushed her lower extremities, and she looked down. Gryf kissed her belly as his hands eased her jeans to her knees. When had he gotten the snap open?

  His tongue delved between her nether lips to dance over her nub. She dug her fingers into his hair, dropped her head back and let out a guttural moan.

  He moved back and gazed up at her, then kissed, nipped and suckled his way back up her body until they were nose-to-nose. His grin turned from sexy to teasing. “Can you handle just one more little ritual?”

  She suppressed a groan. “Do you Matirans have a ritual for everything?”

  “Almost.” He bent, lifting her in
his arms as if she weighed nothing and settled her on the edge of the mattress. Kneeling at her feet, he removed her boots and socks before peeling her jeans and panties the rest of the way off. Sitting back on his heels, his gaze burned a trail from her toes to her forehead. A very appreciative gaze.

  The he reached for a small, carved wooden box next to the bed and drew out an amethyst bottle. What new brand of sweet torture was this?

  She leaned forward for a better look. “What’s that?”

  “Anointing oil,” he replied, pouring a tiny dollop of thick, lavender-colored liquid into his hand. When he rubbed his palms together, a light spicy scent was released into the air. A deep throb began in her womb, and her womanhood clenched in response. Wow.

  Gryf lifted her right foot, his hands smoothing the oil over it. “It is customary for Matiran newlyweds to bathe each other’s feet with oil. It symbolizes their honor and respect for the other, and a commitment to the path they have chosen to walk together.”

  Romantic and symbolic. Sweet. The throb intensified, and the abyss loomed closer. “Can it...be used in...other places?”

  Gryf grinned and ran his thumb firmly along her arch, eliciting a moan from deep inside her. “We shall find out.”

  He moved to her left foot, where his hands continued to work their magic. The unexpected foot massage felt so damn good. What else could she do but fall back on the mattress, her arms splayed straight out? “God, Gryf, that’s amazing.”

  The mattress sank, and she opened her eyes. Gryf hovered on all fours over her. “And I’m just getting started.”

  She reached between them to run her fingers along the waist of his pants. “You’re still partially dressed, Captain Helyg.”

  “Not for long.” He skimmed a palm over her breasts. Her skin tingled with residual oil, and she arched her back.

  They were so definitely using the oil in other places. But first things first. “Should I do your feet now?”

  “As you are Terrian, I don’t expect you to do so,” he said.

  “What’s part of you is part of me, Gryf. My heart belongs to two worlds now. Teach me this custom.”

  Pleasure lit his eyes, and he pushed away from her, opened the seal of his pants, slid them off, then sat on the bed.

  Kneeling between his knees, she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. Her fingers feathered over the bulge in his underwear and air hissed through his teeth.

  “Soon,” she whispered.

  Gryf panted as if he was having trouble breathing. Yeah, she knew what that was like.

  He gave her brief instructions on how to apply the oil, then closed his eyes as her fingers massaged his right foot. This custom must hold profound meaning for him. One she didn’t understand fully right now, but she would eventually. She would learn everything there was about her husband and the culture in which he grew up, just as he’d been learning about hers.

  She finished with his left foot, ran her hands up his arms and gently pushed him onto his back. Sliding her fingers under the waistband of his underwear, she pulled them down his lean, muscular legs. His shaft sprung free, and the low rumble from his throat brought her gaze back to his.

  “Bronze,” Gryf murmured. The appreciative gleam in his luminous eyes set loose the butterflies in her chest. “Your eyes glow bronze. Warm and beautiful. Come to me now, my soul.”

  She climbed over him, straddling his hips and gliding her soft parts against the ridge of his manhood. His heated gaze held hers as the friction stoked the burning desire within her. Then she wrapped her fingers around his hardness, covering him with the residual oil.

  “Holy. Mother.” Gryf’s hoarse whisper hung between them, heavy with desire.

  She sank down on him until he filled her completely.

  A sexy, low growl came from his throat, and he grasped her hips and thrust up. A gasp escaped her.

  In a blink she was on her back. He pulled out and went deep, each time a little faster and a little harder, stroking her most sensitive spot with exquisite accuracy. The tension within her wound tighter and tighter. Her soul reached for his, then the world exploded with wave after wave of glorious release.

  Gryf thrust hard and strained, his cry of fulfillment echoed in her ears. Then all awareness faded until there were only two bodies and two souls, joined in perfect harmony.

  ~ * ~

  Gryf stirred. How long had he lost consciousness for this time? Alexandra lay relaxed in his arms, her back pressed to his chest. He traced his fingers down the warm, satiny skin of his wife’s abdomen, pausing over her womb.

  Tinan.

  His Gift surged and ebbed. He and Alexandra had taken turns running the pregnancy preventative each time they made love. It wasn’t far-fetched to assume that she would eventually desire a child. She was a Terrian, and her people seemed to view children as an essential part of marriage.

  Matirans, on the other hand, did not. His people loved children, but procreation was not a reason for a couple to bind their lives. Binding was a sacred devotion between each couple, the choosing of a life mate to share one’s path. And he would have chosen Alexandra to share his path even without divine intervention.

  His hand spanned her lower belly. Matiran couples who had procreated traditionally had only one child, though a few had a second. How many would she want? No, it mattered not to him. If they survived what lay ahead, he would give her as many children as she wished.

  Moving his hand up her body, he cupped the underside of her breast and gently rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb. It hardened, and she snuggled her bottom against him, stirring his loins.

  Gryf pressed his lips to her shoulder. “Morning blessings.”

  “Is it morning so soon?” She rolled part-way over in his arms, her sleepy smile cast her in features in ethereal beauty.

  “My stomach is telling me so.”

  Alexandra chuckled. “Mine too.”

  If he was not mistaken, first meal had been delivered to their door ten minutes ago. “Don’t move.”

  He slid out of their warm bed and strode across the rugs toward the entrance. Alexandra’s gaze warmed him, her admiration flowed through their link. He straightened his posture and stepped off the rug.

  “Blazing Fires of Ata!” The floor was like walking barefoot onto a frozen lake. He danced back onto the rug. “We need more rugs.”

  Alexandra giggled. “Take your time, I’m enjoying the view.”

  Gryf cast a mock glare over his shoulder. “Hilarious.” At least he had not shrieked loud enough to bring the entire camp running to check on them.

  “Well, go on,” she urged. “The food isn’t going to walk itself in here.”

  “You knew I was getting food?”

  She frowned, then shrugged. “I guess I did.”

  Interesting. Changes he had expected, but not so soon. He pulled back the blanket-door and reached through the opening to retrieve a tray from the floor. Fresh fruit and an Earth dish appropriately named scrambled eggs. Delicious.

  “Ooh,” Alexandra sat up as he approached. “Breakfast in bed.”

  The blanket slipped to reveal the soft curve of her creamy breasts. Dusky areoles beckoned him like sweets to a child, and his body’s reaction went from mild arousal to full-blown desire. A low chuckle escaped Alexandra. Rather unhelpful to his current state. She walked on her knees across the mattress—sans blanket—and took the tray from his unresisting hands, placing it on the floor.

  Sweet Mother, he wanted to feel her heat around him again. A shiver of desire coursed through him. “You should enjoy your morning meal first.” That had to be the single most unconvincing argument of his life.

  “I am,” she murmured, her throaty reply testing his resistance.

  She ran one fingernail lightly up the ridge of his manhood. Oh, hells. What resistance? Using his body weight, he carried her down to the mattress. He nipped and suck at one breast while teasing the other with his fingers. Her soft whimpers flamed his desi
re even more.

  Releasing her breast, he gave her a crooked grin. “Do you mind if I show you my idea of breakfast in bed?”

  He didn’t wait for her response before sliding himself lower and grazing his unshaven cheek against the smooth skin of her inner thighs. Ah, Mother, the scent of her arousal was more intoxicating than any alcoholic beverage.

  “No.” Her voice cracked with raw need. “I don’t mind at…aahhh.” She pushed her hips up as he explored her most intimate place with his tongue. Now this was truly breakfast in bed.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Twenty minutes later, Gryf reread the note Alexandra had found tucked under the bowl of strawberries.

  “No urgency. Senior Admiral Cael sends his congratulations on your nuptials. Viscomm this morning. Meet us at the meadow at third hour. Ora.”

  Alexandra’s arms slipped around his waist from behind, and she rested her chin on his shoulder. “She means the Defense Fleet, I hope.”

  “She does.” Finally. The Fleet was on alert and must be on their way. Ora would have told him if they weren’t.

  “Third hour is three hours after dawn, right?”

  “It is, which leaves us less than ten minutes to get there.” He leaned his cheek against her temple. “Admiral Cael is a close family friend, and the current senior admiral over both fleets. He recommended Ora and me for the Guardian Fleet.”

  “Really? I look forward to meeting him then.”

  “You may not like this, however: protocol dictates that he address you by your title, which is ‘Your Honor’.”

  She snorted. “From ER nurse to ‘Your Honor’ in barely nine weeks.”

  Her discomfort radiated from the tense lines of her body. Indeed, events of her life had moved with rapid succession since the invasion, and she had every reason to feel more than a little overwhelmed. Knowing she was not alone in this was important. He turned to take her into his arms. “From Senior Captain to soul mate and husband in the same amount of time; I cannot imagine sharing these changes with anyone else.” He brushed his lips over hers. “An eternity with you, Alexandra, is not long enough.”