by Bekki Lynn
“Touch me,” she whispered.
He ached for her, but he had to get them out of the room and to his place. He scooped her up, sheet and all and went straight for the door determined to get out of the room. Her hand snaked around his neck as her mouth caressed his jaw with soft kisses. It took all his will power to ignore the restoration of the flames she ignited.
“Where are we going?” she asked, nibbling on his ear.
“My bed,” he said, moving away from her mouth before he said to hell with it. When he was close enough to the door, he went to shove the wall with his foot, but it went right through the doorway. He faltered, but didn’t drop her.
Uninterested as to why or how the barrier disappeared, he marched through the basement, up the stairs and took her up to the costume room. He set her on her feet outside the dressing room, groaning when she slid over his crotch. He ached for her to sheath him once more.
“I need filled by you,” she mumbled. She rubbed him and he snatched her hand away.
“Dress and we’ll go,” he said, when she ran a hand under his sweater. His abdomen quivered and the sheet fell from her unclothed body. “Cassandra—” She pulled his head down, covering his mouth with hers.
Gripping her shoulders, he held her in place and stepped back. “The cleaning staff will be here soon. Go dress.” He turned her into the doorway of the dressing room before he gave in.
She closed the door and he went to retrieve the jewelry box and her belongings from the merchandise room and again ran smack into a barrier. “What the hell?’ He knew, but he didn’t like it. It was one thing for him to be with this woman for his own means, but for them to be held prisoner—
“I think my shoes and things are in the first room we were in,” she told him, causing him to turn around. The quiet sound of her voice and the way she ran her fingers through her hair caused his lungs to fill and sit tight. It hurt. He didn’t want to feel anything toward her, but she watched him with such controlled hunger. He wanted to touch her—hear her breath catch—hear her moans fill the room with the sounds of her orgasm. But not until he had her in his bed, he reminded himself in an attempt to steel himself.
“Come, let’s go.” She padded to him and he held her arm as they went to the door. He tested with his foot before she would have hit the barrier and it was gone. It didn’t surprise him. The pattern was set. They weren’t to be separated, but once this night ended—.
“What did you expect?”
“It’s not important.”
In the merchandise room, she removed the earrings, laid them in the box, and put her own back in. He saw her turn the bracelet, looking for the clasp and told her, “Leave the bracelet on.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to it.”
Her voice crackled, causing him to study her and her soft eyes searched his. The vulnerability worried him. They were entering dangerous territory. Real emotions were involved here, hers. She had to get out of this as unscathed as possible. He didn’t want the wrath of her grandfather. “Keep it on.”
“I’d feel better wearing my own.”
He took her wrist, moving the bracelet around her arm. It looked right on her and admitting this to himself tore at him. He didn’t want this to become personal. “Tonight must be this one.” He moved her hair and unclasped the necklace. She trembled.
“I can’t control what’s happening. This is much stronger than the dreams.” She pulled on his arms. “Your touch is firing up simmering flames.”
Ignoring her out of preservation for both of them, he placed the necklace on the velvet and kneeled to remove the anklet. Her knees weakened and she grasped his hair. His vision blurred and he skimmed the back of her calves, stopping at the back of her knees. All he had to do was lift the skirt of her dress and lean in for a taste. A taste wouldn’t be enough, he knew. He tilted his head, looking up at her.
“Do it. Please,” she begged.
Tempted, he forced himself to his feet and cupped her chin, running his thumb over her cheek. “It wouldn’t do to be caught. We’d be linked together.” He saw hurt flash across her face before she moved around him. He tilted his head toward the ceiling, wishing his grandfather could see the harm this could cause them. She moved around him to where her shoes and jacket were.
“This whole thing is so absurd. I can’t believe my grandfather would be party to something like this. What were they thinking? They weren’t, that’s just it,” she said more to herself, than to him.
He felt the pain in her trembling voice as she spoke and wished now he hadn’t removed any of the collection. “Tomorrow, you can ask him. Tonight we prove their foolishness.” The anklet weighed in his hand and he stared at it, recalling it’d been made from the tunnel where she first saw them making love. Making love. No, no love, pure sex. He knelt and returned it to her left ankle.
“What…why—”
“It will help heal what’s been done, heal what’s to come.” He stood with his eyes boring into hers. For all she knew, she had to know the lore of the peridot—the many ways it helped heal the body. He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
She didn’t move. He waited, wanting her, not wanting her. Then she exhaled and put her hand in his. He drew her close and caressed her bottom lip with a finger. She nipped it, ran her tongue over the pad and he couldn’t resist. He dipped it between her lips, letting her suckle. God, she was so hot! He grabbed the sides of her head and claimed her mouth with hunger of his own, moving over hers, swallowing her moans.
Breathing heavy, he rested his forehead on hers, telling her, “We better go before I haul you up on the table and bury my shaft in your wetness.” She groaned and her body began to sag into him. “Oh, woman,” he whispered. He took her hand and pressed it against him. She rubbed him making him shudder. He lifted her skirt and rubbed her wet mound, slipping a finger into her wet folds.
“Yes,” she muttered and gripped his upper arm.
He delved between her lips with his tongue, swallowing her moans as he thrust with his fingers beyond her swollen flesh. She tightened around him, drenching his hand.
“I need you inside me,” she mumbled.
He pulled his out hand, letting her skirt fall. “Let’s take this to my bed.”
“Hurry and take me there.” She nipped his chin.
Chapter 8
Cassandra’s nerves accelerated when Elan turned onto Grandview Drive, the ritzy neighborhood overlooking the Illinois River. She looked at him, and down where he held her hand, his thumb caressing her palm. Her breasts heaved and for a moment, she held her breath.
He slowed and she saw her favorite getaway spot nestled over near the cliff then looked up at the gray brick, two-story home when he turned into a drive. Often, she sat with a book in her lap wondering what the place looked like inside, what it would be like to wake in the morning and see the sun come up over the glassy river. Lately, she’d done it more often since…No! The bastard wasn’t going to ruin the time she had with this man.
Elan eased into the garage as the door reached the top and she heard it lower after he turned the engine off. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said as her nerves blossomed into whirling birds in her stomach.
He looked across at her, but she couldn’t see his expression. “Focus on the big picture.”
“What if this doesn’t work? What if we’re falling in line with their plan while trying to undo it?”
He tugged on her hand as he opened the door. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid. We’re…we seem to be compatible. I—”
“You’re nervous. Come inside.” She nodded and scooted across the seat toward him.
With her hand in his, she slid out on the driver’s side and followed him up the steps to a door. He unlocked it, pushed it open and she stepped a mudroom. “This is nice,” she said. The spacious room was clean and tidy, too white for her taste though. He seemed obsessed with white.
“Let me have your coat.�
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Cassandra removed her coat and he hung it up on one of the many hooks. With a hand on her lower back, he guided her through another door where she found herself in an immaculate, surprisingly normal, non-white kitchen. She’d imagined the kitchen would be restaurant quality, but the oak cabinets and pumpkin-colored granite pleased her. It was warm, cozy and some of the tension slipped away. “This is beautiful.”
“I need to put the jewelry in the safe,” he said, pulling a couple bottles of water from the refrigerator. He cracked the seal on them and handed her one. “It won’t take but a minute.” He turned, leaving her there, but stopped when he reached the doorway. Cautiously, he tested it by holding out the bottle.
Cold, spidery fingers walked up her spine when he did it. “Elan, what—”
He faced her, explaining, “Since we began the physical purging, I haven’t been allowed to leave the room you’re in. Here, it seems as if we’ve been allowed to.”
She stared at him, thinking of the barrier she couldn’t get through when she’d been trapped inside the peridot tunnel. It wasn’t to keep her in the gem. It was to keep them in the room. “Hold on.” Turning around, she opened the door they’d come through. She tested the doorway with the bottom of her bottle. She went through it to the outer door. The bottle hit solid mass when she opened it and tested the open space. “Elan.”
“I see it.”
“What does it mean?”
“We can’t be separated until it’s done.”
“This is unreal,” she said, pushing against the barrier. “I know this sort of thing is done with computer programs for movies, but how—”
“It appears science fiction isn’t all new.”
Elan turned her around and brought her close against his body as he swung the door shut. She took comfort in the fact he wasn’t being horrible about all this. He didn’t want a relationship and nor was she ready to trust another man with her heart. At least, not the way she trusted Rick when he said he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing him out of her mind and back to the issue at hand.
Here the unknown elements forced her on Elan, trapped with him. If she didn’t have an inkling of a clue all this could be happening as a result of some ritual, she wouldn’t be so accepting. However, she’d been raised to believe in such things. Still, wait until I get home and confront my grandfather.
She looked up at the man who aimed to ravage her willing body and opened her mouth to speak, but his mouth came down on hers. He parted her lips and she met his tongue with hers, circling, tasting, gripping his sweater.
Elan broke the connection between them and stared into her eyes. Cassandra’s heart pounded and she ran her tongue over her lips tasting him.
“Come, let’s go upstairs.”
He lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Resting her head on his shoulder, he moved through the house.
Meows surrounded them as he climbed the stairs. She looked around, but didn’t see the creature. “Please don’t tell me a cat haunts your house.”
“Sassy, no, she’s very much real.” As if to prove it, the four-legged fur ball appeared at the landing, watching them.
“She’s not the jealous type is she?” she asked, looking down into curious green eyes.
“Sassy, you’re scaring our guest. Where’s your manners?”
As if she knew what he said, she cocked her head and held out a paw. “Aw, she’s adorable,” she said.
Elan walked past his feline companion. “Good night, girl.”
He went through a doorway not far from the stairs and let her slip down his body to stand on the floor. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was ready for more action. Caressing his arms, she looked up at him. “Here, there’ll be no more stopping, no breaks in the finale of your plan.” The realization of what she was about to do caused her breath to shudder and her blood shimmy through her veins. She turned away from him to catch her breath as he set the jewelry box on the dresser. There in front of her was his king size bed. Her heart pounded in her ears.
His hands lay gently on her shoulders. “You’ll not want to leave.”
His words were true. Still…She tried to calm herself with details—like the bedding was a masculine forest green and the pillow shams seemed odd for a single man to have. He was unlike…Elan’s hands came around her and she felt his fingers on the opening of her dress jacket and let him remove it as her eyes scanned the room. There were no apparent feminine touches, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done this before, many times before. It seemed none lasted long enough to make changes. Turning, she watched him drape the jacket over a chair. “May I ask if you’ve brought others here after photographing them?”
He turned back to her, giving her an icy stare. “Once.” He ran a finger across the swell of her breasts. “It was a mistake not to be repeated.”
“Then why—”
He laid his fingers over her lips. “Let’s shower.”
Ok, she was getting too personal. Without a sound, Elan moved around her and unzipped the dress she carefully chose for work so many hours ago. The shade of green reminded her of spring and she’d needed something to brighten her mood. His hands skimmed up her back and across her shoulder blades causing her to shiver. Elan eased the fabric off her shoulder until it fell to the floor. Facing him, comfortable with her nudity and ready to submit to his demand for this night, she stepped from the garment. Picking it up, he took it and laid it over the jacket.
She reached for the bottom of his sweater, but in one swift movement, he pulled it up and over his head and then slipped from his shoes as she did hers. Confident, she undid his pants and pushed at them until they fell. She skimmed his torso until her hands reached his head. She brought his mouth down to hers, probing with her tongue, aware his hands cupped her buttocks, drawing her up on her toes and closer with the throbbing length of his cock between them.
Cassandra gasped when he lifted her into his arms again. She could get used to this. It rang of old breeding, romances from the days when her parents were young and in love. She’d watched many of the movies from her grandfather’s era.
Elan set her down in the bathroom and with her hand held in his, he turned the shower on. Did he think, at this point, she’d run? Even if she wanted to, how could she? The house wouldn’t let her leave. He pulled the curtain aside and helped her into the tub, following her.
“The water isn’t too hot, is it?”
“It’s perfect,” she told him as she stepped back enough to share the spray with him.
Nervous, she stood letting him take the lead. He lathered a washcloth with his soap before handing her the cleansing bar. It had a manly scent, like him—spicy and fresh. Circling the bar over his chest, she concentrated on the lathering of the soap and trying not to watch it run down to the pulsing length. While he ran the cloth over her back, caressing, his breath fanned her forehead. The soap fell, leaving her fingers to roam and run through the sparse hair. The contrast of its coarseness against smooth flesh spurred on the need to touch more of him. She followed the lather down and her fingers wrapped around his hard shaft, washing, rinsing as he reached between her thighs, further arousing her with the cloth, his fingers.
Breathless, she ran her tongue through the spattering of hair, thankful he didn’t pluck it out, following the tradition of his people. She found his nipple and sucked, grazing with her teeth when the cloth fell from his hands with a splat and his fingers delved into her fiery tunnel. Her hand hit the wall as waves of pleasure shot through her and she pumped his cock in rhythm to his fingers thrusting in and out of her core. “Unbelievable,” she gasped against his chest. Her knees weakened, but his arm around her waist kept her from sinking into the tub.
He whispered in her ear, “I need to be in you?”
A guttural sound rattled in her throat.
“You want me inside you?”
She moaned and nipped his flesh.
> He pulled from her and turned the shower off. The cool air of the room hit her when he moved the curtain aside, but it didn’t begin to curb the physical heat. Her flaming body was set to medium-high and rising. His magnificent body flexed firm, strong muscles as he stepped from the tub. She shivered with the need to touch him, to run her hands over every ripple.
He reached for her hand and helped her from the tub. “Bend over the vanity,” he said with an irresistible smoothness.
With no hesitation, she braced herself for rear entry and he filled her in one thrust. Her belly quivered with excitement. She breathed in and out, her body consumed with raging need. “Don’t be cruel,” she managed to spurt out when he didn’t move.
He remained deep within her, unmoving. His fingers skimmed up her sides. Her breath caught and sat in her throat. He ran the pads along her breasts, teasing until she squirmed against him, and the air whooshed out. Lightly, he ran them down her spine and back up going a little deeper. She rocked back and forth needing the motion, whimpering as her muscles reached for what they needed. He bent over and kissed the blades of her shoulders then ran his tongue down her spine. Quick inhales and ragged gasps mixed with needy groans had her thrusting until his hands stilled her.
“I want to hear what you want, Cassandra.”
“I’m teetering. Please, help me.”
His hands caressed and massaged her lower back while she rocked, trying to encourage him to pound her. She could feel the head of his cock against her inner walls. She wanted to feel it move, drive deeper and fill her with hot, hot loads of cum.
“The fire is smoldering like the haze over the mountain after the afternoon desert rain,” he chanted.
She let her head fall onto the counter as her inner muscles contracted and convulsed around him. “Temporary hiatus…will return to the source…of heat enraging the steaming coals…below the surface…to erupt and fulfill life’s desires.” Shudders swept through her before she could figure out where the words had come from. It didn’t matter. Her breath came out in gasps and when she found the strength to continue the thrusts, he stopped her with a firm grip. She swiped at the dripping perspiration forming on her brow. “Pound my burning flesh, Elan! Take me to the highest fall and topple me over!”