THE EQUINOX STONE (Knights of Manus Sancti Book 2)

by Bryn Donovan

  He’d been pretty damn cocky without his memories. “I didn’t remember that I’d hurt peoples’ feelings before. Which you know,” he added.

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “If I screwed it up, everyone would hate me. Everyone. My brother. My father. Your parents, definitely. Capitán. Every Knight who’s ever worked with you.” She stared at him, wide-eyed. “I’m not exaggerating!”

  She gave a furious shake of her head. “Everyone knows relationships are hard. Capitán would never hold it against you. People have messy breakups all the time. And Johnny—he loves you more than he loves himself, and that’s never going to change.”

  The truth of her words sunk into his soul, but they didn’t make any difference. He was a hardened warrior, and he felt one hundred times more defenseless than the tender-hearted virgin he faced. “But if I messed things up, I’d hate myself. And if I lost you as a friend…” He swallowed to ease the burning in his throat. She’d always been there for him. “I don’t know what I’d do.”

  “If it didn’t work, I’d still be your friend.”

  He said as gently as he could, “I think that’s the kind of thing everyone says, but it doesn’t always work that way.”

  A spark of defiance lit her eyes. “I’m not everyone.”

  That was the truth. And like any seasoned fighter, he knew when he didn’t have any fight left.

  She still had her arms wrapped around her knees, and he covered one of her small hands with his, coaxing her to release her grip on herself and hold his hand.

  “I want to try, then. Because I think I’m going to lose my mind otherwise.” As soon as he said it, the knots binding his soul loosened.

  “Good. Because I’m losing my mind too.”

  Seeing her smile, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, was worth almost any risk. “I’ll do my best,” he said. “I swear.”

  “So will I.”

  He cupped her soft, lovely cheek and kissed her as gently and tenderly as he could manage, given how long he’d been wanting this and how badly. His heart said a wordless prayer to let him get this right. The faint scent of her jasmine perfume, one of the things that had given him back to himself, captivated him, and her kiss heated his blood. God, he wanted to take her upstairs.

  He said, “I know it’s really late, but—”

  “Come up to my room.”

  He could feel a smile spread across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

  *

  After Michael entered her bedroom, Val shut the door behind them and locked it. Her heart was pounding fast. His eagerness lit up his emotional signature, but he teased her, feigning casualness.

  “So what are we going to do up here?” He looked around. “Build a pillow fort? Take selfies? I could braid your hair.”

  “I want to have sex,” she said quickly, to be one hundred percent clear. It must’ve been what he’d expected, but his desire became even stronger. She’d never spent so much time with a man who wanted her so much. It combined with her own need and flooded through her being.

  “Good choice,” he said. “I’m not that good at braiding.”

  She unfastened the tie to her silk robe, and her robe fell open. He pulled her close and kissed her again, sweeping into her mouth, which fell open at the invasion, receptive and willing. He took his time, his fingers sinking into her hair. Although he’d been joking around, his kiss was nothing but earnest, demanding and offering more. His other hand caressed and cupped her breast, and her nipples tightened. Still kissing her, he brushed his thumb across the hard tip, then glided his palm slowly over the curve of her waist. Heat shimmered through her, drenching her between her legs. Could he hear the hammering of her heart? If only he could sense her desire the way she could sense his…

  On an impulse, she took his hand and guided it down between her thighs. It was the boldest thing she’d ever done.

  “Holy hell,” he breathed. He stroked her there, making pleasure spiral through her body. “No, sorry, I can’t braid the hair down there, either.”

  She half laughed, half gasped. “Shut up!”

  “Mm, for one thing, it’s way too short.”

  He nuzzled the tender curve between her neck and shoulder, the stubble of his beard setting off new sensations like sparks. He kissed her there, a hungry and devouring kiss, and slipped a finger—then two—inside her. A small noise escaped her lips. Her legs felt weak, and she grabbed onto his free arm for support. She couldn’t stand up while he was doing this, could she?

  He bit her on the shoulder—very lightly. He must’ve remembered how she liked things. His male scent of soap and clean sweat mingled, shockingly, with that of her own arousal. His next kiss, below her collarbone, drove her to squirm, her back arching. He made her feel like every inch of her was worth worshipping. Her phone on the side table vibrated—her mother, probably. They both ignored it.

  The pad of his thumb brushed across her clit, and his fingers delved deeper inside her. His mouth captured hers and he thrust in deep. She made a soft, desperate sound, and the silk robe slipped from one of her shoulders. Earlier, she’d cracked a window open, and the cool night air touched her bare skin.

  “There’s that trembling again,” he murmured, his breath hot on the sensitized flesh. He was right. She was shaking like a blossom petal in the breeze, even though her whole body felt hot.

  “I can’t help it,” she managed to say, breathless. His fingers inside her curled slightly and, without meaning to, she clenched around him.

  “It’s perfect,” he whispered in her ear, a strand of her curly hair tickling against it. He nibbled on her earlobe, sending yet another delicious sensation dancing across her nerves. “Everything you do is perfect.”

  He settled his thumb more firmly on her sensitive center, rubbing her in slow, sure circles. Her legs felt weak, and she was grateful when he wrapped a strong arm around her waist. She moaned.

  “Is that too hard?” he murmured, every bit of him attuned to her pleasure.

  “No.” She gasped. “Don’t stop—”

  “Val. You okay?”

  Nic’s voice, incredibly loud, made her almost jump out of her skin.

  Michael stopped what he was doing, his hands moving to her shoulders. For a split second, she whipped her head around as if he were in the room with them.

  Then Michael’s eyes were dancing with hilarity.

  Her heart rate. Oh, my Goddess. And adrenaline levels too. They were probably sky-high, and Nic had thought she was in trouble. That had probably been him calling, and he’d gotten concerned when she hadn’t answered. He’d broken through, using the option to make the phone immediately pick up and broadcast his voice. It was what mission runners did when they were worried.

  She stood frozen, mortified, her body in shock from being abruptly denied of pleasure.

  “Val!” Nic’s voice was more urgent.

  “I’m fine,” she squeaked. Michael laughed out loud and covered his mouth.

  A second of silence. “Okay.” He hung up.

  Michael laughed again. “Oh my God. What’s going on here?” He placed his palm flat against her heart. “Christos. It’s like double time.”

  “It wasn’t going that fast before he scared the life out of me!” She covered her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Why? We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  He was right. Had the moment been ruined, though? Hoping not, she kissed him again.

  Ah, that’s good. She savored the sensation of his luscious mouth and the seductive male taste of him. His single-minded absorption burned away her embarrassment. His kiss and tantalizing touch filled her senses, making it hard to think of anything else at all.

  He slipped the robe from her other shoulder, and it fell in a sumptuous puddle at her bare feet. “Goddess,” he murmured. He didn’t say the word as she did; he didn’t worship a female deity. She was bared to him, and he adored her.

  With one hand, he grabbed the back of his tee
shirt and yanked it off in a single smooth motion. She took in the sight of his pale sculpted torso, his chest padded with muscle, rising with his quickened breath.

  Then he lifted her up in his arms with no apparent effort. The sudden loss of gravity startled her. He was so strong. The feeling of being completely cradled against him, cuddled up against his chest, made her feel completely cherished. He lay her on the bed and quickly, without self-consciousness, unlaced and took off his boots and his socks and shucked out of his jeans and boxer briefs. She watched, shameless. His cock stood almost straight up against his belly, giving her a twinge of intimidation, but he was primal and gorgeous in his full arousal.

  “Condoms,” he said suddenly, and his dismay washed over his features. “Do you…” He shook his head, obviously realizing she probably didn’t have any.

  For a moment, her disappointment sagged through her, and then she remembered. “You don’t need one.”

  “What?” He looked bewildered, and she wasn’t surprised. This had been drilled into them both from childhood. He’d be about as likely to have sex without a condom as to go off on a mission without his pants on. Actually, she could imagine him doing the latter.

  “They tested you,” she reminded him. He’d been past the window of uncertainty. She hardly worried about him having been with anyone else since—she would’ve picked up on the emotional aftermath, and he wouldn’t keep a secret from her now. “And I’m on the pill, and I’m clear.” Like everyone else, she got tested all the time. even though there was very little reason for her to be.

  He looked genuinely shocked and then gave a wondering laugh. “I’ve never done it without one.”

  Val pressed her fingers to her lips. This hadn’t occurred to her. It made sense, though—some of his partners hadn’t been people he knew well. She’d imagined every single one of them being more beautiful, worldly, and experienced than her, knowing inscrutable tricks and techniques. She’d imagined them doing this, hundreds of times—she hadn’t been able to help herself—and it had troubled her, wondering how a night that would mean so much to her could mean anything to him. At least one thing would make it memorable.

  “Then this will be special to you too,” she said lightly.

  He stared at her, his mouth slightly open, as if she’d smacked him. “That’s not what’s going to make it special.”

  He came over and stretched his body alongside hers. She sucked in a breath at the sensation of so much of his bare skin touching hers. Apprehension skittered across her nerves. There’s no going back now.

  But no, that wasn’t right; she could tell him to stop at any time. He wouldn’t even complain. His hard cock jutted against her thigh. His love for her enveloped her. He stroked her hair and kissed her again, tenderly. His blue eyes searched her face.

  “I’m a little nervous,” she admitted.

  “So am I.”

  Disbelieving, she reached out psychically and found, to her shock, it was true—threads of anxiety beneath his pulsating desire. Her confusion must’ve shown on her face.

  “I’ve never been with someone before when I—I don’t know, felt like this.” His confession gave her confidence. “I’ve never been with a virgin before, either.” He shifted to prop himself on one elbow and with reverent fingertips, traced the outer curve of her breast and the contour of her waist. She wriggled, her eagerness rising at his touch. He gave a half laugh. “I feel kind of honored. Is that weird?”

  “Well, I don’t have a prize,” she teased softly. “But yes, you should feel honored.”

  He laughed and kissed her. He kissed her again and again, his warm, large hand cupping her breast, trailing his thumb across the hardened, aching peak. Then he dipped his head and suckled there, sending corkscrews of shining heat through her body. They seemed to reach all the way down to her toes. She petted his hair, caressed his strong arms, and when he raised his mouth to hers again, she traced her fingertips along the crisp light hair on his chest. He captured her mouth again and his hand smoothed down her belly and covered her mound.

  The light weight of his hand as they kissed, so close to where it should be but not quite there, was enough to make her lose her mind. Her hips rose on the bed, demanding more. Immediately, he obliged, reaching down to again massage her most sensitive place.

  “Michael, please,” she begged. He was making sure her body was ready for him, she supposed, but hadn’t it been ready for a long time now? His fingers pressed harder, circling her clit. Oh, Goddess. She was close and prayed he wouldn’t stop.

  In a few more moments, she cried out as wave after wave rippled through her.

  “Angel,” he murmured in her ear. Ah, this was what he’d wanted—not only to make sure she was ready, but to satisfy her before he’d even entered her. He moved to lay his body over hers, braced on his forearms. Yes. At last. She reached down and put her palm on his hip, urging him to do it.

  He gave a ragged laugh at her eagerness. She’d been drowning so deep in sensation, she hadn’t realized how hard he was struggling to hold himself back, but she sensed it now; every bit of him strained with need. His dedication to her pleasure, far above his own, touched her. It was a generous gift.

  He reached down to guide himself and eased inside her. She tensed at the unfamiliar sensation of being filled up completely.

  “Oh, Christ,” Michael blurted out, his voice hoarse. She felt stretched and fought the urge to push him off. His pleasure and her discomfort balanced in her awareness. He looked at her, and the rapt exultation on his features gave way to dismay. “Are you okay? Should I—”

  “I’m okay,” she said quickly, catching her breath. The soreness was already easing. “Don’t move for a minute.”

  He nodded, all obedience, his body shaking with restraint. His concern for her filled the air between them. She pulled his head down to kiss him again. His lips skimmed across hers, and he caressed her cheek with such tenderness it almost broke her heart. Before the first time they’d been together, when she’d fantasized about it, she’d never imagined his patience. He traced his fingertips along her décolletage and the curve of her waist, rousing her hunger again. She followed his lead, gliding a hand down the strong, muscular plane of his back, thinking about how they were joined together.

  “Okay,” she breathed, and lifted her hips.

  He groaned. Slowly, he pulled back and then buried himself inside her again, watching her face.

  Ahhh. It brought a different, deep sensation, a primitive bliss. So this is what people are talking about.

  “Yeah?” he murmured.

  She nodded, her senses reeling. “I like it.”

  “Christ, Val, you feel so good. It’s unreal.” He caught her mouth in another deep kiss and his need seemed to flow through her veins. He pulled back and stroked into her, exquisitely slow, and she gripped his shoulder. He drove deeper into her now, to the hilt. She felt both claimed and triumphant. She wrapped one of her legs around his muscled thigh.

  He groaned again, giving her slow strokes. His adoration reverberated through every cell of her body, almost too pure to bear. She wound her arms around his neck, open to whatever he wanted. As if sensing her deep acquiescence, he moved faster.

  Time fell away from her awareness. Their bodies rocked together with each stroke, and it was glorious, the way she’d hoped and imagined it. Her pleasure spiraled upward. She cried out softly once, and again.

  “Yes,” he said in her ear, “mi corazón, that’s it.” His voice, half whisper, half growl—she’d never heard anything sexier in her life. “Can you come for me again?”

  He moved enough that he could reach down between where they were joined, his clever fingers finding the place they were looking for, and she cried out more sharply. “Michael, please,” she begged, utterly overwhelmed by both his touch and the way he filled her. “Please, yes.”

  “Look at me,” he urged. He raised his hand again to cup her jaw, bringing her gaze to his. She’d never felt more naked o
r more helpless in her life, but she trusted him, body and soul. He thrust in her once more. She came apart and half sobbed his name, and he drank in her response like wine. Her muscles contracted around him, and in the next moment he gave a wordless cry of his own and came, pulsing inside her. He bent his forehead to her shoulder, his broad chest heaving against hers.

  Beautiful. It was so beautiful and human and perfect.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Michael lifted his head, drunk with emotion and gratification, and then froze.

  Val was crying.

  Shit. Shit.

  He extricated himself from her tight embrace and pulled out, automatically reaching down to secure the condom as he did so and then remembering there wasn’t one. “Angel, don’t cry.” No, that wasn’t the right thing to say; people had given her a hard time for crying. “I mean—what’s wrong?” There was no way he could’ve hurt her. If he had, he didn’t know what he’d do.

  She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “It was so perfect.”

  Oh, wow. It almost made him laugh, and it melted his heart. “It was.” He bent and kissed one of the tears from her eyelashes. They stoked his pride. He’d frankly known he had some talent for this, but this was the first time anyone had wept for happiness.

  It’d never been like this, though, and not just because it was her first time, or because he hadn’t used a condom—though her snug, slick heat had almost undone him at the first stroke. They knew each other so intimately, and they’d always been so important to one another. It made sex a little terrifying—and incredible. He knew it wasn’t only the physical sensation, but the pitch of emotion, that had brought her to tears.

  When he’d come over, he’d expected friendly conversation and some talk about the mission. Instead, he’d gotten a night he suspected would change his life. The way they’d fit together so well, body and soul, made him believe that maybe all his reasons to avoid an entanglement with her had been foolish, or at least, exaggerated.