by Anna Durand
I fidgeted, but did not move my feet. "What are you doing?"
"Thinking."
"About… "
"You." He smiled, that thousand-watt smile, the one that zapped me with an electrical shock every time he beamed it at me. "I've thought of little else since first I saw you."
"Which would be three months ago, when you were pretending to be somebody else."
"Nice try." He crossed behind me, out of sight, yet I felt him prowling ever closer. "I won't let you reshape this conversation to your own comfort. This will unfold as I design it, not you."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Bossy Pants."
Though he arched an eyebrow, he kept pacing. Shoosh, shoosh, shoosh.
I let myself admire the view when he passed in front of me again. Never before had I enjoyed an unimpeded, uninterrupted view of him in motion, those muscular thighs working, his loincloth shifting a little with each step, stretching taut over the bulge of his cock.
The shooshing stopped. He stopped. Behind me. Watching.
Every cell on the backside of me electrified, a million microscopic circuits zinging an erotic current straight down to my core. I gulped, not sure why, and bundled my arms around myself, then dropped them to my sides, my fingers twitching in a restless rhythm. "What are you doing?"
"What would you like me to be doing?"
"I don't know."
He stepped into my peripheral vision. I wanted to look, but my head refused to budge. He exhaled a long, languid sigh that rippled shivers down my spine. When he spoke, his tone was thick and molten. "You kissed me."
I snorted out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I'm aware of that."
Damn if my voice didn't quiver the slightest bit. Get a grip, woman.
In two long strides, he moved in front of me, turned, and whirled on me. Ten feet, maybe twelve, separated our bodies, yet the gravity of his presence pulled at my atoms.
He canted his head. "You made me vow never to kiss you again, to keep my lips away from yours at all times. Then you kissed me, and not a simple kiss, but the wanton kind that compels a man to reach certain conclusions."
"I didn't mean to lead you on."
"You've led me nowhere. I've been dragging you here by the hair."
I did a double take. Seriously, I did. He dragged me? Never. He'd been gentle, careful, respectful. And yes, erotic as hell. But never, ever rough with me. Yet to him our little dance had clearly seemed like an ordeal. He didn't look annoyed, though. Curious, maybe. Predatory. Possessive, in a way that liquefied my resolve.
He ran his tongue over his lower lip, slowly, sensuously. "You broke your own vow. I want to know why."
"Maybe I changed my mind."
"You realize what this means."
Yeah, I'm a lust-drunk moron. "Why don't you spit out whatever it is you're trying to say and stop making me guess."
"You want me."
I laughed, but it came out as a frantic giggle. Even the densest man would've picked up on the subtle clues to the non-mystery of my attraction to him.
He shrugged one shoulder, undulating all that taut flesh. "It's all right. I want you too. Which is why I'm not letting you 'rein it in' this time."
My heart stopped. I know it did. I'm pretty sure every clock on earth stopped ticking too. He must've heard me mumble those words — rein it in — under my breath, to myself, after I kissed him.
"Let it go." His voice was the purring of a cougar.
My heart started up again with an agonizing thud.
Nevan strode toward me, narrowing the gap between us to inches. The vision of him, of his muscles pulsating with each movement and the tiny loincloth straining to cover him, devoured my focus. For the first time in my life, I craved a man with a passion so intense nothing could quench it. Nothing except for his body.
An icy ribbon of fear unfurled in my chest. I teetered on the precipice, more than ever before, nudged there by lust and… affection? Yeah, okay, I liked him. Hard not to like a man who'd taken a sword to the chest for me. It was nothing more than… a mild fondness and immense gratitude. Expressing either sentiment posed risks I didn't care to take.
He lifted a hand, grazing it over my arm with the barest touch, and my breath caught. The heat of him radiated over my skin as he wrapped his arms around me, tugging me tight into his lithe, firm body. I drew in a long breath, savoring the scent of him — earth and grass, with a hint of sharp sweetness evocative of onrushing thunderstorms. He always smelled of the elements, but then what did I expect from a sylph? He was, he'd told me, forged from the air and earth. I should've pulled away, the impulse pulled at me, but a stronger need overpowered it. The need to relent. Drop those blasted reins. Give in.
His breaths caressed my ear as his voice murmured, "You're tensing up again. Why must you do that? Do ye really believe I'll harm ye?"
"No." I said it without thinking. And my eyes were closed. Damn, when did that happen? I commanded my lids to open, but they disobeyed.
His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his breath teasing the inside, while his hands skimmed the hairs on my arms. "You are glorious, Lindsey, a goddess in disguise. Instead of hiding under this brittle armor, you ought to shake it off and bask in the sun. With me." His mouth slid lower, his teeth nipping my lobe. "How about it?"
"I — " Christ. I'd made so many mistakes, survived too many disasters, to believe losing control had no consequences. "You might change your mind."
"About what?" His voice was low, sultry.
"Me. I'm not… like this. Not like all those other women you've been with."
"The others were nothing compared to you."
"I'm a repressed, scaredy-cat virgin. Remember?"
He laughed, his lips trembling over the skin under my ear. "You are strong and clever, braver than the most powerful elemental, and — " He cupped one hand on my right cheek, turning my face into his. My lips met his cheek, sending a flaming shudder down my body. "And you are the most desirable woman in any realm. If you stop holding back, you'll realize just how glorious you are. Unleash your passion. I won't let you fall."
My heart pounded so hard and fast I thought the blood might burst my veins. "You don't know what you're asking. I'm not capable of it."
His head moved, his hands too, releasing me. "Open your eyes."
I did. Though measured in inches, the gulf between us seemed wider than the universe.
Nevan studied me with thoughtful interest, his gaze roaming the length and breadth of me. "You seem quite capable to me."
His eyes lured me in and bound my focus to him.
I stuffed my hands in my jeans pockets. Anything to stop my fingers from stretching out to explore his flesh. I had to step away, right this second, but my legs disagreed. "Look, I know you'll panic if I express any you-know-what, but you did save my life and, well, I… " Struggling for a way to thank him without thanking him, I grumbled. "Screw this. We're still in my world, so I'm going to say it. Thank — "
His mouth smothered my words. His lips moved over mine, pressing and releasing, capturing my lower lip, then setting it free. My traitorous hands twitched in my pockets, hungry for the feel of his skin. I wanted him. I needed control. I ached to unleash my body and soul. I had to shield myself.
Nevan parted his lips from mine, though just enough to speak. "Do you recall the pot and the kettle?"
"Yes." Our previous conversation, about pots calling kettles black, didn't seem relevant here.
He backed away one pace. I fought the urge to haul him back, and as if he sensed my inner battle, his mouth slid into a knowing smile. "What does the kettle do, love?"
"Huh?" In my head, I ran a quick replay of our earlier discussion. "Oh. Right. It steams. But I don't understand why we're talking about this."
"That's why. Because you don't understand." He slanted his head, eying my breas
ts with a ravenous gleam. "A kettle releases its steam. You're a pot, keeping everything locked under a tight lid, boiling away, building up pressure. What you don't seem to comprehend is that you've got to let some of it off, or the pressure will blow you apart." His focus shifted to my eyes, intent and unwavering. "I'd hate to see that happen to you."
"I can't change what I am."
"Sure ye can. Decide to become a kettle."
I huffed out an annoyed sigh. "This is the most ridiculous metaphor ever and I'm sorry I ever mentioned pots or kettles. I'm a person, a very, very screwed up person who can't just decide to become a — " I threw my hands up. "A kettle or whatever. Pots are pots, end of story. I wouldn't even know how to do what you're suggesting."
"Losing control is easy, darlin'. With the proper motivation."
Without taking a single step, he reached across the distance and dragged me into his arms, pinning my hands to his chest between our bodies. One of his arms locked me there. The other raised as he thrust a hand into my hair and forced me to look up at him. "You, my glorious goddess, can be anything you choose to be."
"Why do you care what I am?"
Amusement sparkled in his eyes and dimpled his cheeks. "Because you matter."
I yearned to believe he meant what my heart prayed he did, but his vagueness left too much doubt. "I matter because your king wants to kill me. Otherwise, someone like you wouldn't look once at me, much less twice."
"I've looked at you a thousand times, seeing the woman, the goddess, the frightened little rabbit, and everything else in between."
"But why? Why me?"
"I'll tell ye later, when you'll be receptive to the answer." His tongue danced across my lips.
"Uhhh… " It was all I could manage to say.
All around us, a breeze rustled the aspen trees. Their leaves rattled, pattering like rain. The sensual sound rippled the tingling through my entire body, from my loins to my scalp, and straight down to my toes. His fingers massaged my scalp in lazy, gentle strokes. His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. "Steam for me, Lindsey."
I drank in the sound of the words, letting them course through my veins, intoxicating me with every syllable. Steam for me. The heat pulsed inside me, a driving force too powerful to fight, and I didn't want to anymore, the craving was too intense, the pressure more than I could stand. I let his body brace me, my knees trembling, and for once, I didn't even try to clamp a lid on the passion escalating inside me.
Nevan stroked his hands up and down my back, dipping his head to whisper his breaths over my mouth. I lowered my head to his chest, grazing my lips over the centuries-old scar across his heart. He shuddered. This big, strong, elemental man — my bronzed god, the hero who'd saved my life over and over — shuddered at my touch.
I tilted my head back to gaze at his face, at the lines fanning out from his half-closed eyes. He'd gone stiff, his hands tense as they settled on my hips. Maybe I'd embarrassed him by touching his scar in that way. But no, I could not believe I had the power to embarrass a man who lived in a loincloth and excited every nerve in my body simply by speaking my name in a sultry, husky voice. Just in case I was wrong, in case he was the one in need of relaxation this time, I tapped his chest with one finger. "Is your heart still in there? I mean, you said Skeiron cut you when he cursed your heart, so… "
His chuckle rumbled in his chest, vibrating into me. The tension softened, his hands tugging my hips into him. "Yes, darlin', I've still got the bloody thing."
"Why is your heart a bloody thing?"
"Because it's given me naught save agony. Until tonight." He hooked his thumb under my chin, lifting it, and ducked his head near to mine. His breaths, hot and enticing, teased me and I burned to taste him, to take his breath into my body and meld with him. He bent closer, our lips brushing. "Let's not start with the questions again. I can think of other, more interesting things we might do together."
No words. No thoughts. Only him.
"Say it, love."
"What?"
"You know what. The words I told ye never to speak again unless you agreed with my interpretation."
"Don't remember the words."
"Yes you do." He slipped his tongue between my lips, then withdrew. "Say it."
I did know what he was asking. He'd promised me if I spoke a certain phrase one more time, he'd accept the offer, though at the time I hadn't meant the words the way he'd implied. Right here, in this moment, I understood exactly what he needed from me. Permission.
A choice. A precipice.
I jumped.
"Nevan… take me."
His voice growled, his lips dangerously close to mine. "I will do just that, for as long as it takes, as many times as it takes, until you break apart for me and only me. Not because your fear has cracked you, but because I have won you, body and soul."
Need catapulted through me with such force I swayed in his arms. He clinched me tighter against him. His flesh scorched mine through the fabric of my T-shirt, exciting my every nerve, until my nipples hardened against him. For the first time in — oh God, how many years? — I confronted the hunger burgeoning inside me without a shred of shame to taint it.
No more fear. This is your chance to come alive again. Seize it.
I bent my head to scrape my tongue across his scar.
He tensed again.
Don't chicken out now. I dragged my tongue across the faint line of rough skin once more, tracing a damp path up his chest, over his collarbone, into the hollow above it.
He groaned.
A thrill coursed through me. He liked it. No, he loved it. I held power over him, despite the glib facade he often retreated into, despite the fact he could crush me with his elemental magic with a single flick of his wrist. In this moment, I controlled him. My touch ignited his passion. Why he was rock hard, and not in the way I wanted him hard, baffled me. I'd given in, hadn't I? That's what he wanted.
I skated my hands up his chest. "Shall I help you… relax?"
He hissed out a shaky breath. I had no doubts he remembered the precise context of the moment when he'd posed the same question to me.
Still, he said nothing.
I bounced up onto my tiptoes. Our eyes leveled. Currents of bronze, gold, and silver swirled within his irises, a vortex of molten metal sparking with bright red pinpoints. I let the sight entrance me for a moment, reveling in the strange beauty and naked desire in his eyes. Then I draped my arms around his neck. Shut my eyes. Hauled in a deep breath. And crushed my mouth to his.
His teeth clamped shut, blocking my tongue.
I peeled my mouth away and squinted at him.
"No," he said, without a hint of emotion.
My heart thudded and my head reeled, but not from desire. A cold emptiness sucked all the passion out of me, leaving me speechless.
His expression softened, his body relaxing at last. "I didn't mean no, darlin'."
"Well, you said no. And I swear if you start arguing semantics with me — "
The tips of his fingers sealed my lips. "I meant not this way. You're trying to control the situation again, and while I enjoy your efforts immensely, we're doing this my way." He danced his finger over my mouth, as his other hand massaged my hip in an intoxicating rhythm. "You, my little kettle, will be the one losing control. This time."
He skimmed his hand across my cheek without touching my skin, his fingers awakening every little hair, and I turned my face into his palm, flicking my tongue across it. He shifted his hand down to my neck, hovering his flesh an aching millimeter from mine. Last time, I'd stopped him. This time…
This time. He'd said I'd be the one to lose control this time. Did that mean next time —
He swept his lips across mine, shattering my thoughts. His mouth claimed mine, and with one thrust of his tongue, I was gone, consumed by the passion explodi
ng between us. He sank his hand into my hair and bent my head back, delving deeper into my mouth, his tongue soft and slick, demanding my surrender. I relinquished everything to him, giddy with the freedom of it, exploring him with wild strokes of my tongue.
He released my hair and grasped my buttocks. His mouth fused to mine, he hoisted me off the ground, my hips pinned to his groin. A long, low moan resonated inside my chest, up my throat, straight into his mouth. His chest heaved. One of his hands lunged under my shirt. The rasping of his palm against my skin shot a white-hot bolt of desire into my core. I raked my hands through his hair, gripping the back of his head, forcing him closer as I feasted on the flavor of him.
His arousal swelled against my sensitive mound, activating all my nerves at once. I flung my legs around him, desperate to take him inside, even through my jeans. I didn't care, couldn't think, my every inhibition flapping around me in tatters.
He tore his mouth from mine, panting, his cock jutting into me. "This won't do at all. Can't have ye screaming my name in the woods again, for anyone to hear." He ground his hips into me and I gasped. "Only for me."
The world vanished. He whisked me through the tunnel of clawing darkness, so fast I had no time to process the journey, and out again into the moonlit night. Droplets of cold water sprayed our bodies as I clung to him. The falls rumbled beside us, silencing any question I might've asked, if I'd retained the capacity for speech or rational thought. Gripping my bottom with one hand, he slid the other up my back to secure me to him. In one swift motion, he turned and leaped through the cascade.
We touched down in the cave. Or he did. My feet dangled above the stone floor. He set me down, freeing one hand, but maintained his firm grip on my ass with the other, staking a claim and ensuring I wouldn't forget his intentions. As if I could. The proof of his intentions rubbed against me.
He waved the fingers of one outstretched hand. The doorway to the Unseen realm spiraled open, swelling and roiling. The sight of the oily, writhing blackness, and its iridescent curls of energy, constricted my throat. I'd seen it before, walked through it with him, but the portal still creeped me out.