by Angel Payne
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
No good.
Tears pricked as I prepared to tell him this was it. “Halfway” wasn’t normally a word I accepted in my vocabulary but even a semi-nun like me knew this kind of shit normally took a let’s-ease-into-this period.
When the hell had I forgotten about the vibrator?
And the fact that Evrest hadn’t taken it to the highest setting yet.
Whoa.
The second he clicked the knob, I screamed. From pure amazement.
How had I not known about this? The pleasure…it was so searing and perfect, it turned even the pain of his penetration into an added push instead of an endured agony. I climbed higher, reaching for my perfect release. So close. I was so…damn…close. But I needed his help for the last few steps…
Needed every inch of flesh he could give me.
“Evrest.” I mewled it more than anything, strung out on my lust. “Oh, shit. Oh, please…”
“Tell me.” His voice was solid Cro-Magnon now. “Talk to me, sevette.”
“Can’t. Ohhhh. Need…”
“What?”
“M-more. M-more.”
He locked me in place while spreading me wider…filling me deeper. “Camellia…fuck…you have almost all of me.”
“Then the rest!” My head arched back beneath the weight of my lust. The force of it, while twined with the physical, was so much more. I hated the thought of him holding back when every drop of my soul now tumbled in its wild, furious, feral fire. He’d unleashed me. I wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than the full, passionate beast in him, too. “Set it free, Evrest. All of it. Take me how you need to. Use me. Fuck me. Please.”
The sound in his chest was like Zeus’s own chariot wheels. Mighty. Dominating. With the same command, he seized my hips—and drove himself fully in.
The motion rammed me hard against the vibrator. My nerves were driven to the summit I’d craved. I shot to the heavens and crashed into the sun itself. I exploded—and received no mercy from the flames. The moment my first orgasm ended, Evrest tore back the vibrator to push at the top of my mons. The pressure, along with the stimulation from his cock at the opposite angle, spiraled me toward a new flame of pleasure.
“Bear down,” he ordered, pounding into me even deeper. “Try to push me out. Bear down hard, Camellia!”
I wasn’t sure what happened next—only that I’d been slammed by ten-foot Pacific breakers that stunned me less. Like one of those waves, the force built from the inside out. Vibrations from deep in my womb. Surges that intensified. Then a cataclysm, violent and pure, shattering me into a million drops of light that splintered into the sun.
I screamed, blistering and broken.
Evrest groaned, swelling—and climaxing.
He went utterly still, body tensed as his essence poured out, scalding and perfect, even through the latex sheath between us. For a moment, I wondered if I’d killed him—until a long string of Arcadian spilled from his lips.
Several minutes later, we both still breathed hard after cleaning up with moist towels he gathered from warming drawers under the bed.
As we sank back to the pillows, I winced a little. Time for ye olde twinge of uncertainty. Ugh. Hadn’t done this one in a while, since my first time with Harry, but it was here—and undeniable.
Would things be different between us now? Not that “things” would exist beyond the next hour, anyhow—a fact that didn’t discount the importance of the answer.
I only had to endure the fear for a moment. Evrest erased it by gathering me close and tangling our legs as he lunged his tongue into my mouth with more passion than he’d given me before. I smiled against his lips when he finally tugged away. If anything had changed, it was for the better.
His own grin was all puppy who’d successfully fetched its first stick, confirming the deduction more. “My sweet, sexy sevette.”
I gave up a giggle, fingering the sweaty hair out of his eyes. They practically glowed with their sea foam radiance. “My lusty, gorgeous hunk.”
He nipped a kiss to the tip of my nose. “So…was it good for you?”
Eye roll. “Oh, my God. You really didn’t just go there.”
His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t a glower. He actually seemed confused. “Well, was it good for you?”
I wetted my lips. Way to go, bitch-on-high. My castigation didn’t prevent me from silently cursing the girls who’d been lucky enough to share his bed at university. All this naked bronze perfection sharing their pillow, and nobody thought to conduct an easy lesson about the worst of the après-sex clichés?
“Yes, Evrest.” I whispered it with sincerity. “It was pretty damn good.”
As in, I’ve never experienced anything like it in my life—or will be likely to in the next one.
As in, how the hell do I pretend I’m simply in the friend zone with you now?
I refused to think of that right now. The cocoon was still intact. I didn’t have to give him up yet. “So how was it for you?”
And why did that instantly feel like the wrong question to ask?
If his answer didn’t match mine, would he step back into King Evrest mode and say the “right words”, anyway? Duty above all? Or would he honor the honesty of our relationship, no matter how brutal the truth?
Neither option was acceptable. Ish. I should’ve taken his climax as the final answer on that one and been happy.
But then I would’ve missed the answer he did give. The stare he flooded me with, powerful as a magic potion. The strength of his fingertips, spreading into my hair. And the perfect beach sand of his voice, soft and course blended, as he murmured. “By the Creator and all his angels, Camellia. You have shown me a glimpse of heaven.”
Stinging eyes. Heavy gulp. I prayed it all wouldn’t manifest beyond that. Sarcasm swooped in to the rescue. “Hmmm. Only a glimpse?”
“I do not dare say more.” Real regret underlined it. He rolled to his back, bringing me along, tucking me against his chest. “If doing it this way was that good, I cannot allow myself to imagine what the other will be like. I would be tempted to take a shower, get right back in here, climb between your legs and—”
“Stop.” Despite how my limbs still felt like noodles, I pushed up on an elbow. Crazy, what strength a person could find when shock decided to suddenly zap. “What do you mean…‘the other’?”
His answering grin was wide, white, and wicked. Normally, the look would free a herd of horses through my stomach. Damn shame I had to fence them all back. Too dangerous, considering the elephant of revelation tromping through, instead.
“I think you know what I mean.” He actually chuckled about it. “The other way. Missionary? Hitting a home run? Mounting up? Pounding in the—”
“All right; all right.” I didn’t need or want know how he’d come by all the euphemisms—especially if the looming conclusion in my mind was true. And God help me, as I mated his puppy dog energy with his dark wolf idealism, that deduction felt more and more like the truth.
“Hell.” I lowered my head into a hand. “Hell, no.”
“What? Camellia?”
Dammit. I was going to ask it, anyway. And was probably going to flog myself afterward.
“Evrest…are you a virgin?”
Chapter Thirteen
‡
Yep. Flogged myself.
I could’ve lived with my boldness if he’d huffed with insult or gone into embarrassed, guy-style lockdown. Instead, the man cocked his head, quirked up one side of his sensuous mouth, and returned, “Should I have been clearer about that?”
Clearer about that. Like he’d just given me the wrong time for dinner or sketchy directions to the bank in town.
“Shit.” I laughed, hoping it helped with comprehension. “Shit.”
Evrest’s brows lowered. “Is that a good shit or a bad shit?”
“Interesting question.”
Beyond interesting. Try confusing as hell. I looked up at
him, doused in the bewilderment now. What had I missed, and when? How the hell was he really still a—
The word wouldn’t return to my brain. I didn’t believe it. Everything about this man was still something out of an adults-only ad campaign for come-fuck-me booze or cologne. His godlike muscles and warrior eyes were natural extensions of his sensuality. Even his gaze, zeroed on me so intensely, checked every box under the heading of dark sin.
After a long moment, he dipped his head as if trying to succeed at his mind-reading thing. When he came up empty, he scowled. “I still do not understand.”
I soothed fingers across his brow. “Me neither. But I’m trying to.” The motion didn’t ease his upset. I roamed my touch to his jaw. “I think I threw the cake into the oven without following all the directions first.”
He only frowned deeper. Gah. I was being cryptic, and that wasn’t fair—even with this completely crazy subject.
“When you told me you took the preservation vow two years ago, I made some assumptions.” Heavy breath. “Big assumptions.”
At last, his eyes ignited a little. Thank God the man was as shrewd as he was beautiful. “You thought I had only been adhering to the vow for the last two years, but not before.” When I let silence stretch as my confirmation, he charged, “And what did your ‘big assumptions’ tell you that I did before it?”
I laughed. In full. This was worth the buy-in. “You’re kidding, right?” But I already knew the answer. For all his perceptiveness about others, Evrest was a dork about the size of his sexual tractor beam. But I wondered if pointing it out would be like telling a wolf it was a carnivore. The creature didn’t care. He was what he was. Gorgeous. Generous. Charming. Smart. Irresistible.
“Okay, so you aren’t kidding,” I mumbled. He blinked in silent query, flipping my senses when the candlelight caught the edges of his thick eyelashes. “Oh, come on, Evrest! You went to university in England. The girls—”
“Were studying as hard as I was.” He stated it like commenting on the fog, the Tube, or the necessity of bangers and mash. “Camellia, there was really not time for—”
“Bullshit.” The carnivore wasn’t getting it. “In university, there’s always time, especially with those randy British birds. I’ll bet those girls even had your penis nicknamed.”
He growled then laughed. “They never saw my penis!”
“You think that matters?” I rocked my head back with cynical challenge. “Faye’s introduced me to a few of them in online groups, mister. Joanne and Helen have taken creativity to a new level when it comes to naming peen. They even rate bulges sometimes.”
“Bulges?” His brows hunkered. “Why?”
Long breath. Really time for a redirect. “You’re sure there wasn’t some night in a girl’s dorm room, where you both had too much to drink and things just happened?”
“Things do not ‘just happen’ for me, Camellia.” His hand tightened against my scalp. He finished in words that barely scraped the air. “Not until I met you.”
“Oh?” I raced for the safety of sarcasm, despite tracing a finger dangerously across his chest. “And what exactly ‘happened’ then, Mr. Cimarron?”
He stopped my hand, capturing it beneath his. Curled my fingers over, exposing my knuckles for the brush of his lips. He answered me in a whisper twice as soft as the first.
“Everything.”
Three syllables. Three seconds.
The air joined me in a suspended breath. Not a single nocturnal sound. Even the candle flames were motionless, giving golden solace instead of flickering ovation, causing my chest to ache from the selfishness of hoarding air.
But like hell was I going to ruin this.
Everything.
Yeah. It felt like that. Somehow, not doing the “all-the-way-everything” only sweetened the sensation. What we’d done had its special space, known only to the two of us, beyond the realm of rules and pacts and propriety and procedures.
Our perfect dark.
I twisted my hands, cupping them around his. Lifted my head, sealing my lips against his. Unleashed a little more of my heart, to make room for the chunk of his that crashed down into that space. Oh…damn. Just like opening my body for his sex, the feeling wasn’t comfortable. Not at first. I didn’t know if it ever would be again, or if I’d ever be the same, but the pain was eased by knowing he wouldn’t be, either.
So…good shit or bad shit?
I hadn’t officially popped the King of Arcadia’s cherry. Good shit.
But I was pretty sure I’d put marks on something more important.
Not such good shit.
The next few days would be whirlwinds. I prayed that the breakneck pace would work with us, keeping the bad shit at bay. Or worse, a full shit storm. If Evrest played it cool with Harry and I avoided Chianna altogether, we were likely to sidestep the suckage. I wouldn’t be lacking for things on my to-do list for about fourteen hours of the day… and there was also the little matter of Evrest having to pick out a bride within the next five weeks.
Oh, yeah. That.
“My little lightning.” He murmured it into my temple, his breath warming my hair line. “Are you all right?”
I nodded but backed it up with, “Of course. I’m good. I’m…perfect.”
For the next few minutes, it could still be my truth.
For every minute, hour, and day after that…I’d have to fake it.
Somehow.
God help me.
Chapter Fourteen
‡
“Ohmigosh, stop the van. I have to take a picture.”
As Beth repeated her favorite line of the day for the hundredth time, I clenched my jaw, hunkered over my smart pad, and thanked fate that I had the whole back seat of the vehicle to myself. The extra room would come in handy once I’d had enough of the photo breaks and needed to puke.
When we’d loaded up at the palais, three ungodly long hours ago, the gratitude was for a different reason. My whole body was an aching reminder of Evrest’s passion, and I wanted to treat it with care—not to alleviate the pain, but to sustain it. If my marked neck, sore hips, and aching ass were the only mementos I got to keep from last night, then I needed to spend as much time as possible savoring them.
And the moments that had created them.
The passion that had imprinted them…
“Look at this, you guys! Isn’t this incredible?”
Beth’s squeal of punctuation jerked my head up. Harry did the same from the van’s shotgun position, meaning our gazes met in suffering unity. The pain in my body matched the grimace on his face, making me laugh a little. To my shock, he chuckled in return. Misery loved company, after all.
“Yes, babe,” he finally offered to Beth. “It’s awesome.”
“You’re not even looking,” she snapped. “Crowe? You’re looking, right?”
“Totally,” Crowe chimed in. “Believe it or not, some of this reminds me of County Clare, in Ireland, where my grandparents are from. The cliffs there are a lot like these, only without all the dolphins off the coast.”
“Dolphins! Where? Ohhh, I have to get out and look.”
“Go for it, babe.” Harry already skated a finger across his pad again, likely setting up shots for tonight, after we were settled in at the beach and back to pictures-up status. The weather was going to be perfect, and we couldn’t waste any second of valuable production time.
“Ugh.” Beth huffed. “You and Cam live on those damn computers. Come on, Harry-bear-bear. The screen can wait. I won’t have you missing heaven on earth.”
“Wha?” He glanced up for a second. “Okay…right. You two go on ahead. I’ll be right there.”
Beth rolled her eyes but didn’t delay climbing out of the van, dragging Crowe behind her. I watched them jog to the edge of the road, cameras already out. Crowe pointed toward the water and I joined Beth in following his trajectory. Sure enough, a large dolphin pod broke through the water about a hundred yards out. Some of the cr
eatures broke the surface to arc through the air, making the sight even more breathtaking. A breeze kicked in through the van’s open door, bringing the salty-sweet redolence of ocean mist mixed with almond, poppy, and orchid blooms. The wind moved on, shooshing through palm fronds overhead and orchestrating with the splashes of the waves far below.
“She’s right, you know. This place really must be heaven on earth.”
It was the first non-logistical thing I’d dared saying to Harry since we’d locked horns last night. Sure, we’d both been busier than flying monkeys trying to pack up our Oz-on-wheels production trucks this morning before departing Sancti. Lists had to be checked. Cargo had to be loaded. Kittens—aka the crew—had to be herded. We’d embraced the pace as the perfect excuse not to address each other beyond the necessary. But here it was. My strange little version of an olive branch.
“Fully aware of that factoid, rock star.” The reply was a plateful of snark but made me grin. Rock star. Back to normal by baby steps. “And I’m doing my best to make sure we capture a little of the heaven on film.”
“You’ll kill it.” Unable to help myself, I finished on a giggle, “Harry-bear-bear.”
He dug into his snack bag of Doritos and tossed one. “Look, girl. Must be pay day.”
I lobbed the chip back. “No Bueno, mister. I negotiated for the hot and spicy package. Better talk to your production manager.”
“Pffft. She’s a nut case.”
I shrieked as he lobbed a handful of almonds instead of the chips. After retrieving a few, I retaliated, “Did you really just go there?” Choosing the precision of the one-shot-at-a-time approach, I aimed for his head. “Because we both know who handles the nuts better around here, buddy.”
Bull’s-eye. My second shot struck his cheek. He laughed harder. “Damn! Somebody’s been practicing. And here I thought you’d been nutless for the last year.”
That stung a little more than it should. I tried writing off the jab but leaned over to angle a shot at his crotch anyway. Though it got his stomach instead, I caught the fresh flinch of guilt across his face—perhaps his version of an olive branch.