Fates 06 - Totally Spellbound

by Kristine Grayson

  She could feel his passion and hers, his need and hers.

  There were no barriers left.

  They were one person, and when she—they—couldn’t take it anymore, and the climax came…

  …she couldn’t tell if it was his or hers or theirs.

  She couldn’t tell, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She drowned in sensation—their sensation, two bodies that had somehow—magically—become one.

  Twenty-three

  He probably thought she was a basket case.

  As Megan stepped into her own suite, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Tears. She’d never cried before when she’d been kissed.

  But she had never felt so inexpressibly sad before, like a part of her was mourning something that she didn’t even know was there.

  And then there was the part that had gotten all shuddery, the part that knew she had never been kissed like that before and was afraid she never would again.

  Her suite was colder than her brother’s. She walked to the temperature control and adjusted it upward.

  Rob stood in the entry.

  “Sorry about all that,” he said. “I just had to get away from those women.”

  Megan nodded, feeling hideously embarrassed. She didn’t want to turn around, but she couldn’t monkey with the temperature controls all day.

  Rob came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.

  “Where were we?” he muttered. “Ah, I remember. I had decided that talking was no way to convince you I’m attracted to you.”

  Then he kissed her bare neck, right where it met her shoulder, and a delicious shudder of desire ran through her.

  The tears threatened to come back, too.

  She didn’t want that, but she didn’t want him to let go. She turned around inside his arms. He looked up in surprise—his entire face seemed alive with passion—and she kissed him.

  He pulled her so close that she couldn’t quite tell where she ended and he began. He kissed her mouth, her damp cheeks, her eyes. He kissed her neck, and that shiver ran through her again.

  And she was kissing him back, her hands finding the jacket on his suit coat and helping it slid off, and then the buttons on his shirt, and the fly on his trousers, and somehow, she was leading him toward the bed she hadn’t yet slept in.

  He had a magical mouth that managed to find every part of her that could arouse her, and he hadn’t even gotten past her shoulders yet. First his hands were busy with her shirt, then the clasp of her bra, and then the button on her jeans.

  She tripped, and fell backward on the bed, pulling him on top of her. His pants came off easily and she helped him with hers, and all the time he kissed her, finding the sensitive areas on her breasts, her stomach, her hips, his fingers finding even more sensitive places in even more sensitive areas.

  He brushed against her leg, and she bent down, grabbing him, and moving him exactly where she wanted him. He slipped inside, his face between her breasts, her legs wrapped around him, forcing him deeper and deeper.

  He murmured her name, then raised his head, and she kissed him.

  She had never felt so beautiful, so desired.

  So loved.

  Her eyes closed again, and the tears threatened.

  He moved inside her and she could feel the pressure building in both of them and it was like she wasn’t one person anymore.

  She could feel his passion and hers, his need and hers.

  There were no barriers left.

  They were one person, and when she—they—couldn’t take it anymore, and the climax came…

  …she couldn’t tell if it was his or hers or theirs.

  She couldn’t tell, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She drowned in sensation—their sensation, two bodies that had somehow—magically—become one.

  Twenty-four

  He had never felt like that before. Not once in eight hundred years.

  Rob clasped his arms around Megan, holding her to him, pulling her with him as he fell to her side.

  He didn’t want to lose the togetherness. He didn’t want to lose that sense of being more than himself, of being inside her body and her mind at the same time.

  He’d had no idea how a woman felt during lovemaking—until now—and it was even more arousing than he had thought. If he weren’t so tired, it would arouse him all over again.

  He kissed that sensitive place on her neck, gently this time. He would never ever be able to be with another woman, not after this.

  Megan stirred, her hand caressing his back. But she didn’t seem to want to separate from him either. Her face was buried in his shoulder, her warm body tucked against his, so soft, so precious.

  Intellectually, he knew what had happened. He had just made love to a true empath, an empath who had lost her guards—if she ever really had any—and had let him so deep inside her that her magic had flowed both ways.

  For that moment, anyway, she had been as attracted to him as he had been to her, because she felt his emotions.

  He knew he should tell her that, but he wasn’t sure how. He would be telling her to question her own emotions—and yet, he was doing that. He was questioning how she felt.

  He didn’t want her to regret this, to think that somehow, this was some sort of aberration for her.

  Although he had a feeling it was.

  He smoothed her hair back. “You okay?” he asked softly.

  She raised her head. Her eyelashes were still spiky from those earlier tears. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

  His heart skipped a beat. He brought her head closer, kissed her forehead, and sighed.

  “Why are you suddenly so sad?” she asked, and gave him his opening.

  He sighed again.

  “Is it Marian?” she asked.

  He froze. Marian. He hadn’t thought of her since he stepped into the apartment, since he found himself wondering about great love.

  Megan had given him an answer to his earlier question. He had loved Marian with all of his heart. It had been a true love, a union of like minds.

  But he was different now. Older. Centuries past the boy he’d been. And this woman that he held now, what she had just given him, was so much more than he’d ever had with Marian.

  And this relationship was just beginning.

  Or so he hoped.

  “Robin?” There was a thread of fear in Megan’s voice, and she started to pull away.

  He kept one arm wrapped around her and stroked her hair. “Is it always that intense for you?”

  He made sure his question was very gentle, non-threatening. He tried to keep his fears and doubts in check.

  “Sex?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  A tear landed on his chest. Then she wiped it off, smearing the wetness.

  “It’s always—strange for me,” she said. “I usually feel so distant.”

  “And this time?” His worries suddenly changed. Had the intensity only been there for him?

  “This time,” she said, and her voice trembled. “This time, I almost lost myself.”

  She said that as if it were a bad thing. He made himself take a deep breath before saying anything more.

  “Do you regret it?” he finally asked.

  “Do you?”

  She wasn’t going to answer. This was one of the places in which she’d been hurt. She’d felt mutual passion—maybe too young to understand that young men have stronger sexual urges than young girls—and had gotten attached when the young man hadn’t.

  He shifted slightly inside her, then smiled at her. “I don’t have any regrets.”

  Her answering smile was radiant. “I’m not sure anything could surpass that first time.”

  He felt her joy—or maybe it was his own. He couldn’t tell. They were still linked, and he was aroused all over again.

  He kissed her, and she kissed back—this woman loved to be kissed—and he rolled all the way over so that she was on top of him.

&
nbsp; She sat up, his hands resting on her hips, guiding her gently.

  The magic started all over again—

  And that was when some idiot pounded on the door.

  Twenty-four

  He had never felt like that before. Not once in eight hundred years.

  Rob clasped his arms around Megan, holding her to him, pulling her with him as he fell to her side.

  He didn’t want to lose the togetherness. He didn’t want to lose that sense of being more than himself, of being inside her body and her mind at the same time.

  He’d had no idea how a woman felt during lovemaking—until now—and it was even more arousing than he had thought. If he weren’t so tired, it would arouse him all over again.

  He kissed that sensitive place on her neck, gently this time. He would never ever be able to be with another woman, not after this.

  Megan stirred, her hand caressing his back. But she didn’t seem to want to separate from him either. Her face was buried in his shoulder, her warm body tucked against his, so soft, so precious.

  Intellectually, he knew what had happened. He had just made love to a true empath, an empath who had lost her guards—if she ever really had any—and had let him so deep inside her that her magic had flowed both ways.

  For that moment, anyway, she had been as attracted to him as he had been to her, because she felt his emotions.

  He knew he should tell her that, but he wasn’t sure how. He would be telling her to question her own emotions—and yet, he was doing that. He was questioning how she felt.

  He didn’t want her to regret this, to think that somehow, this was some sort of aberration for her.

  Although he had a feeling it was.

  He smoothed her hair back. “You okay?” he asked softly.

  She raised her head. Her eyelashes were still spiky from those earlier tears. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

  His heart skipped a beat. He brought her head closer, kissed her forehead, and sighed.

  “Why are you suddenly so sad?” she asked, and gave him his opening.

  He sighed again.

  “Is it Marian?” she asked.

  He froze. Marian. He hadn’t thought of her since he stepped into the apartment, since he found himself wondering about great love.

  Megan had given him an answer to his earlier question. He had loved Marian with all of his heart. It had been a true love, a union of like minds.

  But he was different now. Older. Centuries past the boy he’d been. And this woman that he held now, what she had just given him, was so much more than he’d ever had with Marian.

  And this relationship was just beginning.

  Or so he hoped.

  “Robin?” There was a thread of fear in Megan’s voice, and she started to pull away.

  He kept one arm wrapped around her and stroked her hair. “Is it always that intense for you?”

  He made sure his question was very gentle, non-threatening. He tried to keep his fears and doubts in check.

  “Sex?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  A tear landed on his chest. Then she wiped it off, smearing the wetness.

  “It’s always—strange for me,” she said. “I usually feel so distant.”

  “And this time?” His worries suddenly changed. Had the intensity only been there for him?

  “This time,” she said, and her voice trembled. “This time, I almost lost myself.”

  She said that as if it were a bad thing. He made himself take a deep breath before saying anything more.

  “Do you regret it?” he finally asked.

  “Do you?”

  She wasn’t going to answer. This was one of the places in which she’d been hurt. She’d felt mutual passion—maybe too young to understand that young men have stronger sexual urges than young girls—and had gotten attached when the young man hadn’t.

  He shifted slightly inside her, then smiled at her. “I don’t have any regrets.”

  Her answering smile was radiant. “I’m not sure anything could surpass that first time.”

  He felt her joy—or maybe it was his own. He couldn’t tell. They were still linked, and he was aroused all over again.

  He kissed her, and she kissed back—this woman loved to be kissed—and he rolled all the way over so that she was on top of him.

  She sat up, his hands resting on her hips, guiding her gently.

  The magic started all over again—

  And that was when some idiot pounded on the door.

  Twenty-five

  Megan was off him in half a second, scrambling for her robe, before she realized that she wasn’t in her condo. That knock made her feel like a high school girl caught necking by her parents.

  She threw open the closet door and found a terry cloth robe provided by the hotel. As she yanked the robe off the hanger, she turned.

  Rob hadn’t moved. And he was as aroused as he had been a moment ago.

  How had she attracted such a handsome man? She still couldn’t believe that.

  He smiled, and patted the bed beside him. “It’s okay, Megan. They can leave.”

  She shook her head. “I’m supposed to be watching Kyle.”

  “Kyle’s got John and the Fates. They’ll take good care of him, just like they did before.”

  She pulled the robe on, suddenly embarrassed by the whole thing. He could see her naked. He could see every single flaw.

  The knock came again. “Megan! You okay?”

  It was Travers.

  The flush in her face traveled down her neck into her chest. She hadn’t blushed that deeply since she was in middle school.

  “Coming, Trav,” she said, and then bit her lower lip.

  Rob laughed. “That was a few minutes earlier.”

  “This is serious,” she said. “That’s my brother. He’ll be mad.”

  Rob’s smile faded. “Let him.”

  “But I’m supposed to be—”

  “I think he’s mature enough to understand,” Rob said. “After all, we interrupted him and Zoe.”

  That was true, and even more embarrassing. Megan shook her head. “They’re engaged. We just met last night.”

  “I don’t think they’ve known each other very long either,” Rob said. “It usually doesn’t take mages long to recognize their true love.”

  Megan put a hand in front of her face. Everything was moving too quickly for her.

  “Meg!” Travers shouted again.

  Then she heard a key card in the door. She hurried into the hallway, and yelled, “Trav, it’s okay,” but by the time she’d finished the sentence, he had entered the suite, Zoe behind him.

  He let the door swing closed behind him. “You’re flushed.”

  “Travers.” Zoe grabbed his arm.

  “Are you all right?” Travers asked. “Did you get too much sun?”

  “Travers.” Zoe tugged on his arm.

  Megan was mortified. Even more mortified than she had been when she had interrupted them. Or more specifically, when Rob had interrupted them.

  “You don’t look well,” Travers said.

  She didn’t feel well, at least not now. Before she had felt spectacular, like a completely different woman, and now, she had no words for the sense of loss that was overcoming her.

  “Travers.” Zoe tugged again. “I think we should leave.”

  “I’m not leaving. Something’s happened to Meg—”

  “I happened to Meg.” Robin came out of the bedroom. He had found another robe. It barely fit across his chest, and it left his legs bare.

  They were sexy legs, athlete’s legs. And his feet were perfectly shaped.

  She really hadn’t taken the time to look at him, and she should have. He was so gorgeous.

  “You?” Travers strangled the word out. “You took advantage of my sister?”

  That got Megan’s attention back on the situation. She turned toward her brother.

  His blue eyes were blazing, his skin pale.
He looked ready for battle.

  “Trav,” Megan said. “Calm down.”

  “Calm down when this pervert seduced you? You barely know each other.”

  “He kissed me,” Megan said.

  “It looks like a lot more than kissing happened here.” Travers put his fists against his hips.

  “Travers, stop,” Zoe said.

  “She’s my sister. She doesn’t need anyone to take advantage of her.”

  “He didn’t take advantage,” Megan said.

  “You may think that,” Travers said, “but he’s old enough to be your—great-great … ancestor.”

  “So?” Megan asked.

  “So older guys, younger girls. That’s always a bad combo, Meg. You know that.”

  Zoe let go of Travers’ arm and crossed her own.

  “What about older women and younger men?” she asked. Her question was deceptively calm. “Is that a bad combo?”

  “We’re different, Zoe, and you know it,” Travers snapped.

  “Explain to me how,” Zoe said. “I’d really like to know.”

  “We’re in love.”

  “Who says we’re not?” Rob asked.

  Megan shivered. That feeling earlier. Had that been love? She had thought so in the middle of it all, but she’d learned so often that what she thought was permanent, others thought was ephemeral.

  Travers glared at Rob. “I say. You haven’t known her long enough.”

  “How long have you known Zoe?” Rob asked.

  Travers let his fists drop from his hips. Zoe stood back, a skeptical expression on her face.

  Megan moved between her brother and Rob.

  Her lover.

  “You know, this isn’t going to get any of us anywhere,” she said, dropping into her psychologist persona. “Robin and I are consenting adults. And I most certainly consented. In fact, I was consenting again when you came barging in the door, and I must say that I’ll consent any time in the future if each time is as absolutely spectacular as this first time.”

  Travers blinked once, looked at Megan, then at Rob, and then closed his eyes. Then he rubbed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose, and said in a pained voice, “Waaay too much information.”