It clicked in his head where she was going with her train of thoughts. Who she meant.
He put his hand on her chin and brought her head up so he could look in her eyes—eyes that sparkled so beautifully.
She meant him.
His gut roiled, because there was nothing more that he wanted than to be with her. Yet, she wasn’t immortal like him. She was a banshee with a mostly mortal life span. He still had a good fifty or sixty years on his FID contract.
How could they—
“Duncan?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Will you do something for me?”
“Anything you want,” Duncan replied as he pushed away his thoughts—obsessing about futures was a moot point. He wouldn’t live past today anyway—if her scream erupted, it would take him right along with her.
And he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he left her now. He’d lived a very long life, if he was going to die, so be it. At least he’d be with Cara.
Her hands trembled as she took another sip of the tea. He guessed she was only pretending to be calm. She sat the cup back in the little nest of pillows.
“Kiss me?”
He blinked. “What?” Had he heard that right? Had she just asked him to kiss her?
“Will. You. Kiss. Me?”
She had asked him what he thought she’d asked him.
She shook her head. “It’s okay, forget I asked. I’m sorry. I just… It seemed so likely, that maybe…yeah. The whole about to die thing is making me think crazy stuff. Never mind. Just, forget it, okay? I thought maybe, since, well. Yeah. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.” She scooted away from him.
And it hit him. Hard.
Exactly what she meant. Exactly. And he felt like a bonehead for not realizing it immediately, bringing up the palm reading, the eight years, all of it.
Her.
And him.
He was her destiny.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I would be honored to.”
She faced him, her mouth open in a little ‘O’, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
He stroked her fingers with his and leaned in closer to her. Their hands laced as he brushed her cheek with the back of his other palm, and then he cupped her face. Her skin was so soft, so smooth—it felt more wonderful than the finest silks.
He ran his thumb over her dimple.
“I always loved this dimple,” he whispered.
She raised her eyebrow. “My dimple? That’s kinda weird, fairy.”
“I’m a weird guy.”
She smiled. “But you’re my weird guy.”
“Yes,” he whispered as his thumb slid over her jaw, then across her lips. “I am yours, Cara. I think I always have been.”
She inhaled a breath.
He felt the slight bit of moisture as he stroked her lower lip. His chest pounded, and every part of himself filled with need.
How long had he wanted to do this? Longer than he could remember.
After all, they were friends.
But he loved her. He loved her so much, he would never leave her. If he couldn’t save her, then he’d spend his dying moments with her, because he would not let her die alone.
He leaned closer, reminding himself to be chaste and gentlemanly. She didn’t need to know what a heathen he could be when his carnal desires came to the surface. And those desires boiled under his skin—having nothing to do with the warm desert, either.
“Are you sure?” His telepathy nudged her.
A tiny smile quirked over her lips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. One of her hands slid into his hair and pulled him to her.
And as soon as their lips touched, he was certain too.
Oh yes. She was sure.
Carnal desire surged through him, and he had his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her more into the kiss. Warm and sweet—remnants of the Fairy Tea still on her lips—but more than that. This tasted like heaven.
Like pure, tactile joy.
In a moment, their lips parted—who opened their lips first, he didn’t know, but his tongue stole the opening to taste her.
He had to taste her.
There was no holding back the desire thundering through his veins. Strong and powerful, this need inside beat against his skin, desperate for release.
They parted, and a smile spread over Cara’s face. She opened her mouth, as if to sigh or speak, or even moan, but no sound came out. She didn’t let go of him; instead met his eyes with her own piercing stare.
“You are an amazing kisser.”
He smirked. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
She pulled herself toward him again. “I think we need to do this again.”
“Yes,” Duncan whispered. This time, there wasn’t any hesitation. They both attacked each other with a fevered passion. Cara clawed at his shoulders, and he tangled his fingers in her hair. They tumbled back on the bed of pillows, and their kiss broke.
At least, from each other’s lips.
Instead, Duncan kissed her on her neck, to taste that flesh he’d so wanted to feel just minutes before.
And it was exquisite. He ran his lips down her throat, and her body shook against him, her hips pressing into his stomach. His hands glided over the heavy fabric of the wetsuit covering her from top to bottom.
She pushed against him. “Get off…”
Duncan jerked, suddenly afraid he’d pushed too far, that his need had overpowered his common sense. “I’m sorry, I—”
She shook her head and touched his cheek. “No. Get this off.” She pulled at the back of her neck where the suit was slightly unzipped.
“Let me help you,” Duncan said.
She twisted around, and he eased the long tether on the zipper down. The fabric spread open, revealing her skin, like a private strip show. She rolled it off her shoulder, and glanced at him. He leaned in and pressed a kiss on the back of her neck. Then across her shoulders and down to the partially opened zipper.
He eased the track down and revealed more skin. And the little thing she wore underneath.
A string bikini.
Duncan thought he might explode. Tasting more of her skin on her spine, he carefully peeled back the shoulders of the suit, each little millimeter of skin he revealed more of a prize than the last.
In the middle of working the zipper down, he had to pause, for one of the strings that held the back of her swimsuit in place had tangled in the zipper. He tugged at the string and the bikini strap, trying to separate them.
“It is stuck,” he whispered.
“So cut it, I don’t care,” Cara replied. “Just get it off.”
He waved his hand, and his wand appeared. Green sparkles danced over her skin as he magicked the knot loose and heard Cara inhale. He continued unzipping the suit all the way down to the small of her back, revealing the top of her bikini bottoms.
For a moment, he just gazed at the flesh before him, then ran his fingers over her skin. Cara arched her back as he caressed her spine, up to her neck. He slid a hand over each of her shoulders, pushing the suit open.
Cara sat still, except only to assist.
He slid the top over her shoulders, and one of his fingers snagged on the strap of the swimsuit, guiding it off. He pulled back and readjusted it.
“Don’t worry about it, Duncan…”
Cara started working the wetsuit down her arms. The straps of the bikini tried to follow the suit, and Duncan caught them, holding them in place.
At least that was his excuse.
It had the added benefit of touching her more. He kneaded her shoulders as she pulled the suit off her arms, and she sagged against him.
“More…”
He was happy to do as she asked. With every knead of her shoulder, h
e felt her body shifting before him, relaxing more.
“Duncan,” she moaned.
He opened his telepathy to reveal every thought, every feeling that he had—and to feel everything she felt. He leaned in and kissed the back of her neck, and he could, well, not exactly feel the scream inside her, but sense the pain and torment it caused.
And he could feel the other things going on as well—her desires, her needs, what she wanted, what she craved, all of it dancing in her mind.
Shadowed by the scream that wouldn’t escape her.
She tipped her head down, exposing more of her neck as he tasted her skin. He brushed her dark hair out of the way and kissed along her collar until he reached her neck.
She managed to pull the wetsuit off her upper body, and the little bikini broke. The string popping made him pause as she threw it across the cabana.
He stroked her back, her arms, massaging the skin, so delicate to him. It felt like silk against his hands.
“Touch me, Duncan…”
“I am,” he whispered against her neck.
“No. Touch. Me.” She grabbed his hand, pulled it around her body and slid it up her chest to her breast.
Duncan groaned against her skin as he kissed her shoulder while his hand explored her soft mound. He glanced down, taking in the view of her breast in his hand, and it sent a deep rumbling of desire through him. He wanted to touch her more, to feel more of that incredible skin.
He pulled away, and when he did, Cara stiffened, worry marring her expression as she turned to look at him.
“One second,” he said, and guided her down into the pillows, so she was spread before him, a beautiful bounty to feast upon. He lay next to her, and took in the beauty of her, and stroked the center of her belly, all the way up to her throat, and cupped her chin again.
“So beautiful,” he whispered and leaned down.
She rose just enough to meet him in the kiss, one arm wound around him, her other hand on his chest. His tongue danced with hers—wild, wet, powerful, needy. All those things he’d wanted to have with someone—that he’d always craved in any relationship and never found. His hands ran over her body, caressing her breasts as they kissed. He opened his hand, letting the palm tease just her erect nipple.
Cara’s body arched, and she broke their kiss. A bit of breath grazed his cheek, a moan without sound as her body relaxed. He cupped her breast and ran his thumb around the sensitive areola. Her eyes closed and she arched again.
Her hand pawed at his chest, reaching for the buttons on his uniform.
“Touch you…”
Duncan understood and agreed—he needed to feel her hands on his skin possibly as much as she wanted to touch him. He materialized his wand, waved it in the air, and the green haze of magic passed over both of them, leaving him in his skivvies and her in her bikini bottoms.
“You fairies have all the fun tricks,” Cara thought.
Duncan wanted to pop off something smart in reply, but he couldn’t. Cara was practically naked before him. So strikingly beautiful, all he could do for a second was admire her. Each curve rolling into the next, her hourglass figure dipping in and out in all the right way sent even more desire washing through him.
She twisted, rolling a bit on her side, and her gaze ran over him, the sensation practically physical. She touched his bare chest. “A little bit of hair,” she mused as her hands ran through the hair on his pectoral muscles.
“I hope you approve,” Duncan whispered.
“Oh yes.” Her finger trailed down the path that guided her straight to his underwear.
She slid her finger along the top of his waistband and slipped the tip just inside. She slid along, close to where—
Cara suddenly winced, her body shaking as she pulled away.
“Cara. Cara!” Duncan was next to her in a second, pulling her into his arms as she shook against him.
“It’s… It’s…”
Cara’s scream thundered in Duncan’s head, every splitting, horrid stabbing ache of the cry desperate to get out rolled around inside her. Duncan could think of nothing to help her, nothing to ease the pain.
He shifted, rebalancing himself on the pillows, and his hand bumped something hard.
Cara’s tea cup.
“Here,” he said, bringing the cup to her lips. “Sip.”
Cara panted, shook her head, and tried to shove the cup away.
“It helped you earlier,” Duncan whispered. “Try again.”
Shaking, she accepted the cup and managed to get a few sips down. Her body relaxed a little as she remained in his arms.
“The scream is pulling back,” Cara’s mind whispered.
“It’s not stopping it, is it?” Duncan asked.
She shook her head. “Easing the discomfort. Numbing me, I think. Sort of.”
Duncan stroked her back. “Keep drinking. Maybe it’ll help you heal whatever’s gotten you blocked off.”
She took another drink, this time downing the entire cup in one big gulp.
Duncan raised his eyebrow. “More?”
She shook her head and nuzzled into him.
“You really need to get out of here, Duncan.”
“No way,” he said as he ran his hand over her hair. “You’re stuck with me. I’m not leaving.”
“Good,” Cara said.
Duncan smirked. “One minute you want me to leave, the next, you’re glad I’m staying? You are a confusing woman.”
“Don’t want you to die…but don’t want you to leave, either.”
“If I’m with you, that’s all that matters,” Duncan whispered just before he kissed her again.
Her skin was warm as he eased her back down into the bed of pillows. Their bodies pressed together, chest to chest, the warmth of her breasts against his bare skin made every bit of desire he’d felt before thunder through him again.
Their kissed deepened and her hands slid over his back, and he felt her scant bite of fingernails dig into his skin—a sensation that only aroused him further.
When he broke the kiss, her eyes fluttered, and a bit of a smile spread over her face. That look of utter ecstasy only made him want to create that rapture in her again.
And again.
He slid down her body, kissing her neck and shoulders, tasting her all the way down to those beautiful breasts. He teased one with his hand while he kissed and licked the other. Every touch made her quiver underneath him, and he continued caressing her everywhere. Her hips rocked into him as he slid one hand down to her side, feeling the thin strip of the bikini bottom.
What she couldn’t vocalize, she moaned in his mind, every touch making her body quiver and quake as he continued kissing her lower and lower. He ran his hand across the V where her hip met her torso, and she pawed at his shoulders.
“I want to taste you,” he whispered.
“Please…” The heady moan was unlike anything he’d ever experienced—being telepathic had always been a hindrance when with women in the past. Feeling their every thought—especially when their thoughts would stray during the sex—would distract him whenever he was with someone.
Of course, he’d never been as close to anyone as he was to Cara. Her mental presence both reassured him and enticed him to do more.
To touch more.
To taste more.
It was a heady experience.
His hand slipped under her bikini fabric, and he cupped her.
She blew out a breath that probably would have been a moan and rose into his touch. He slid his fingertip into her folds and found that special little pearl. One hand stroked; the other untied the strings of the bikini bottom, opening her completely to him.
She shuddered, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss just above his finger.
She bucked.
“Yes…”
He lowered to her center and tasted her.
Ambrosia.
The sweetest taste in the world.
Cara was made for him—how he knew it, why he knew it, he didn’t know, but he did. He felt it in his entire being, that she was the one he’d been waiting to find for all these years.
As her body began to jerk against him, her own thoughts—very similar to his—bombarded him in a flash. Her primal needs wrapped in conscious thoughts of her need for him almost overwhelmed him.
He didn’t dare stop, because he could feel it—she was so close to coming. Her mind raced and he felt the orgasm rattling around inside her—the telepathy that bound them broadcasting every breath of her emotions to him like a whirlwind fog wrapping around them both.
When she finally fell, her body shook, and he didn’t stop until she went limp. He crawled back along her torso, wrapped an arm around her and held her tight.
“How are you feeling?” he whispered in her ear.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She shook her head and he felt her thoughts answer him.
“Good. For the moment…”
“The tea is still helping?”
She nodded.
He stroked her face. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Cara. I didn’t know how much. I didn’t realize that you… That I, I mean we—”
She put her finger to his lips and climbed on top of him. Her body pressed against his in all the right ways, and he let out a moan.
“What are you—” Duncan started to ask, but as her bare hips ground into him, he groaned, realizing exactly what she was doing.
And oh goddess, it felt good.
She slid her hands between him, feeling his underwear until she’d found his cock, and shimmied it out.
“Cara,” he whispered.
She took a few moments and stroked him, her fingernails grazing the tip and sliding down the side.
“Nice…”
He was about to reply, when she rose and started taking him inside. With every inch she slid down, he growled, trying not to thrust into her like he was dying to do.
“You fairies are well-endowed, aren’t you?” she said when she finally took him in. He groaned, feeling like he’d entered a perfect paradise. The heat of the desert had them both covered in a sheen of sweat, and he shifted his hips, pressing into her.
Saving Her Destiny Page 11