by AJ Nuest
“I’ll be at the men’s fragrance counter.” Jon decanted a scorching black liquid into a fresh cup and placed in front of Caedmon. His hand landed on Caedmon’s shoulder, and he tightened his grip in an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll check the wardrobe department at the theatre and see if we can find anything for the big guy to wear to Violet’s soiree.” A frown creased his brow, and he danced his fingers down Caedmon’s upper arm, clutching and prodding along the way. “I swear to God, I have never felt such dense muscle in my entire life. Is he always this hard?”
Enough. Caedmon pinned Jon with a hard stare and brushed the offending appendage off his person. With his patience so thin, the man would be wise to keep his hands to himself.
“Yes.” His lady chuckled and then flinched as Caedmon shifted his attention to her. A shrug and she bit into one of her pastries, speaking around the food. “Well, you are.”
A roll of his eyes, and Oliver waved a farewell before disappearing through the swinging door.
Another penetrating poke of his arm and Caedmon surged to his feet. Jon squeaked and shrank back, yet the twinkle in his eyes and his unrepressed smile eradicated any notion the fault lie with him.
“Sorry, sorry.” He grimaced and lifted his shoulders, keeping them perched near his ears. “I couldn’t help myself.”
Caedmon fisted his hands to stop from throttling the infuriating man. “You will cease in these foolish attempts to earn my favor. No more dreamy sighs, no more lingering glances and no more missives signed in an inappropriate manner. Do you fully comprehend my meaning?”
A tense moment passed before Jon slumped and smoothed a lock of hair away from his brow. “I do. But obviously, you don’t understand me at all.” Nose perched at an imperial angle, he crossed the room and placed his palm on the door. “He can be a real beast at times, can’t he?”
“Consider yourself lucky.” Rowena scooped a spoonful of her beloved peanut butter into her mouth. “You should see what he can do with a sword.”
“Yes, well, hopefully you’ll be able to improve his attitude while we’re gone.” Shooting a scathing glare at Caedmon, Jon pushed into the hall and left.
Silence reigned, and the arched brow his love wore upon her lovely face irrefutably placed the blame solely on Caedmon. He plopped onto the chair, elbow thumping the table as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Mayhap she was right. Since the moment of their arrival, he’d been unable to get himself sorted. As if a prickly burr he could not quite reach had lodged itself deep inside his boot. Coupled with his incisive flashes of Seviere’s dungeons, he had to wonder if their leap through the mirror had made his sanity flee.
A soft hand landed upon his forearm and pried his fingers away from his face. He met his lady’s eyes and his heart lurched to find the woman he loved would ever gaze upon him with such worry. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
He sighed. To speak of his fears…to entertain their best course would be for her to remain safe in this realm would surely incite her wrath. And he had neither the desire nor strength to initiate a rift between them.
Twining her fingers through his, she brought the back of his hand to her breasts. The other rose and she cupped his cheek to sweep her thumb along the thin skin under his lashes. “You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”
“I suffered distressing nightmares of my imprisonment.” Sheltering her fingers within his, he pressed a kiss to the center of her palm. “Since waking, I’ve been plagued by visions of Gaelleod’s cruelty.”
“Oh my God.” She came forward. “Caedmon. Why didn’t you say anything?” Drawing him closer, she urged his forehead to rest on her shoulder. The pressure of her hand at his nape eased the steady pulsing in his temples. He breathed somewhat easier and closed his eyes. “Do you have any idea why?”
A small breath flared his nostrils against the strap of her funny pantaloons. “Our trip through the veil, perchance. The hard truth I find myself completely outside my element. Or mayhap I am simply at a loss since this is the first you’ve not been in pursuit of our eminent doom.”
Her shoulders shook with a quiet laugh and he withdrew to return her smile.
“So, what you’re saying is you don’t do down-time well?”
“Apparently not, my love.”
She ran her hands along the tops of his shoulders, down his arms and back up. A frown marred her brow and she clutched his biceps. “Whoa, Jon was right. You’re so tense your muscles are hard as a rock.”
Rising from her chair, she rounded his side to stand behind him. Her nimble fingers dug into the acute stiffness on either side of his neck and he groaned.
“You know he meant no offense, right?” Her thumbs prodded a tender spot between his shoulder blades and he hunched forward to offer her better access to his spine. Sweet tits, to be the recipient of such ministrations secured a high spot on the list of pleasurable things she’d previously done to him. “In fact, his comments were meant as more of a compliment than anything else.”
Jon and the troubling visions, the impending decisions regarding their future, none of those complications seemed to matter quite as much anymore. “Must we discuss this now, my heart?”
“What if you think of him a woman? Maybe that’ll help.” The soft ends of her hair brushed his skin and his cock twitched. Hands tugging his shoulders, she eased him back in the seat. The tip of her elbow depressed the top of his shoulder and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.
Goddesses, yes. A murmur of contentment left his lips. He stretched his legs as she tended his neck, up his jaw to his temples. The small circles she applied to his hairline tingled his scalp.
“Then you’ll understand his intensions weren’t really meant to seduce you.” Thrusting her fingers into his hair, she kneaded the top of his head. A step to the side and she straddled his thighs, the heels of her palms wedged against his chest. “It’s just that he’s just more overt in his sexuality. Sorta like those young maidens at court.”
“I do not wish to discuss Jon or his feminine tendencies, overt or otherwise.” Grasping the backs of her knees, he wrenched her higher, seating her right where she belonged.
Her eyes widened and a clever smile stole across her lips. A journey of her hands down to his wrists and she shook her head. “Nope. This is like trying to massage a brick wall.” Wriggling closer, she linked her fingers behind his neck and stared him straight in the eye. “Time for more drastic measures.”
Before he’d had the chance to glean her meaning, she’d spun from his lap and sauntered across the kitchen. A glance over her shoulder and she tossed one strap of her pantaloons down her back. “Well? Are you coming?”
Not all the goddesses in paradise could have kept him seated. Springing from the chair, he trailed her down the hall to a small, strangely appointed room.
The unbuckling of her second strap, the tumble of those strange breeches down her legs, and the reason behind why a lidded, porcelain bowl had been bolted to the floor no longer warranted his deliberation.
Beneath the edge of her white shirt, the enticing curves of her bottom held his attention. Sweeping a pattern curtain aside, she twisted a series of silver knobs, and all the blood in his body raced straight into his cock.
His eyes feasted on the tender skin of her upper thighs, the curves of her flawless backside, and the craving to have those soft globes cushioning his stomach as he drove into her had him fighting to maintain his breathing.
Water rained into the tub, dousing her hand as she held it beneath the spray. Steam billowed and he squinted at the droplets racing down her forearm to her elbow.
Turning with a smile, she ran a heated stare down his body. “You might want to strip out of those clothes.”
Wet. He swallowed. It would be wet and warm. And she would be with him.
Fisting the back of his shirt, he whisked it over his head, released the buttons on his breeches and shoved them to his ankles. By the time he stood, she’d discarded her
shirt and was swaying to and fro inside the shallow basin.
Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes and ran her splayed fingers through her hair. A quiet moan issued from her throat. Water splashed her shoulders, trickling past the swell of her breasts. Clear drops dripped from her beaded nipples.
His cock flexed and stretched as he tracked the wet trails down her stomach to the nest of damp curls between her thighs.
“Are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there with your mouth hanging open?”
He snapped his jaw shut. Though his first—and only—impulse was to immediately accept her invitation, he could not deny the vast enjoyment of such a titillating display.
Crossing his arms, cocked a brow. “And if I prefer to watch?”
Her chest heaved, and his feet all but moved of their own volition. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
She selected one of the bottles off the wide ledge and poured a creamy dollop into her palm. Lather formed as she rubbed her hands. Sugared vanilla scented the air. All the tension she’d worn from his body returned thricefold the moment her soapy fingers cupped the full weight of her breasts.
Or mayhap he was naught but an addle-brained fool. Raking his hand through his hair, he fisted the strands.
She slid one hand up the slim column of her neck and foam gathered along her thumb and index finger. Her other hand forged a soapy trail to the tender skin of her inner thigh and all the moisture dried in his mouth.
Knees bent, she slowly straightened and eased her finger along her slit. Her moan echoed off the tiles. She shuddered and tossed her head back. Water splashed her cheeks and she gasped to catch her breath.
Gritting his teeth, he locked his knees against the heated tingling at the base of his spine. His hips jerked and he lowered his hand to stroke the thick pulsing in his shaft.
He would slide deep inside her. Brand every inch so she would always be his.
Turning her back to him, she arced her spine and cradled her bottom in her palms. The nails of her fingers whitened as she clutched and pinched her flesh. Her hips wiggled and she widened her stance. He thumbed the head of his cock to beat back the surge of his impending release.
Need tore through his gut. His blood pumped the same persistent command.
…take her, take her, take her…
She bent forward and floated her hands down her legs. Hair slipping over her shoulder, she presented him the full view of her sweet round ass.
The last barricade on his restraint cracked. Striding forward, he seized her wrists and propelled her forward, smacking her hands to the wall.
“Feel what you do to me.” He shoved his hips, grinding his cock into her lower back. She shivered beneath him. Water pummeled his shoulders and tunneled hot and slick down their bodies.
Curling his fingers through hers, he kicked her feet apart. Throughout realms. Across time and distance. Amid the future or past, he would never get enough of her. “I am beyond wanting you, my love.”
“Good.” Jerking her hands from under his, she spun and braced them on his chest. A wicked smile curved her lips as she guided him under the full force of the shower and dropped to her knees in the tub. “Now close your eyes. Try to relax.”
Sweet goddesses’ tits. The last item on his agenda was to relax.
Her cool fingers gripped his shaft, and he slapped his hand to the wall. A glide of her silky lips over the swollen head and fire ignited in his veins. He instinctively pushed forward and was granted entrance into the warm cavern of her mouth.
A groan rolled up from his chest as she swallowed him whole. The firm band of her lips constricted and she withdrew. A dense suction arrowed into his balls, and he wove his fingers through her hair, pumping into her a second time.
She was good. So damn sweet and warm.
Hot droplets caught in his lashes. Rivulets streamed down his cheeks as he clenched his jaw. She dragged the rim of his cock along the roof of her mouth and his thigh muscles shook from the strain.
Much more and he would erupt. He blew the water off his lips. His muscles seized as she drew him to the back of her throat a swallowed.
The undulating ripple detonated down his spine. Her tongue swirled a lazy circle. She prodded the slit and her satisfied hum vibrated his skin. Wrenching back, he gathered her in his arms and twirled her to face the wall.
Rising on tip-toe, she braced her heels on the tops of his feet. His knees bumped her thighs as he bent low and nestled his cock between her thighs.
A push forward, and a groan grated his throat, his shaft sliding sleek and smooth through her slippery folds. Another thrust and she whimpered as he prodded her distended clit.
Her head fell back to his shoulder. Rotating his hips, he plucked and tweaked her nipples. A shudder wracked her body and he wrapped his arm about her waist.
Clasping her nape, he bowed her over his forearm. She rocked back and forth, increasing the friction until a buzz built in his ears and light crackled at the edges of his vision.
He pulled back and, with one deep thrust, drove the full length of his cock inside her.
A gasp parted her lips. She braced her palms on the wall. Her tight fit gloved him from base to tip and he forked his fingers around their linked bodies to rub and tease her clit.
She tensed beneath him, writhing faster. Her internal walls clamped down and the force of his orgasm exploded and throbbed. She convulsed in his arms, chanting his name. He pumped harder and she spasmed again as a thrill stormed through his body.
The last of his tremors gradually subsided and he slowed. Though he kept them joined, lifting her to beneath the water.
Cheeks wet, he dotted kisses down her neck, along her shoulder. Brought one of her limp hands to his lips and nibbled the tips of her fingers.
She chuckled, though the slight blush in her cheeks and heavy lids spoke of a woman fully gratified…and completely his. Lifting her arm to about his neck, she brushed a kiss along his jaw.
He leaned to the side and grabbed the vanilla essence. A small squirt into the center of his hand and he soaped her back, her shoulders and arms. He reached around to lather her breasts and his cock jerked as he nipped her ear.
“Oh, dear God.” She tossed her hands and they hit her thighs with a stinging smack. “Let me guess. You’re starting to tense up again.”
Yes, one muscle in particular was becoming exceedingly tense. A chuckle formed in his chest. He swiveled his hips.
“Okay, fine. But when we get back, you’re building me a shower in Castle Austiere.”
When they returned—if they both returned—he would build whatever apparatus she damn well pleased. “I believe our love-making has dulled your wits, my heart. I fail to see the losing end of that bargain.”
“Dulled wits, my ass.” Her seductive smile spread slow and lazy. “In this realm we call that a win-win.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“We’re home!” The front door slammed. “If you’re still naked, consider this fair warning.”
Choking on her sip of water, Rowena coughed into her fist.
Nice, Ollie. Though she had to admit, ten minutes earlier, and his comment wouldn’t have been too far off the mark.
Clearing his throat, Caedmon reached past the corner of the kitchen table and ran his palm up and down her arm. The smolder in his gaze made her squirm in her chair and it was all she could do not to fan her cheeks.
Great. The last thing she needed was Ollie and Jon waltzing in here to find her blushing. But holy crud. Caedmon gave new meaning to the phrase be careful what you wish for. When the guy said he would never get enough, he had not been exaggerating one bit.
Twice in the shower, and she hadn’t even made it into the guestroom before he had her pinned against the wall in the hallway, damp towels on the floor as he set about wringing pleasure from her body in ways she hadn’t known existed. Two languid hours of them exploring each other in the bedroom, and every inch of her skin tingled with an awareness sh
e’d never experienced before.
A simple glance from him, the subtle shift of his muscles or brush of his fingertips and, before she knew it, she was writhing beneath him again—or above him…or beside him—as he whispered his undying love in her ear.
But the best part by far, was the time they’d spent cuddling under the covers. During those few precious moments, the haunted look in his eyes had finally left off its clutch grip. He’d stopped looking at her as if any second she was going to click her heels three times and disappear.
She couldn’t stand the thought that his being here had triggered some sort of weird post traumatic stress disorder. But, thank God, at least she’d been lucky enough to find the cure.
Flipping her hand over, she sat forward and laced her fingers through his. “Now, when Jon comes in, be nice.”
His torso flexed against the tight stretch of his t-shirt. Shoving his chair away from the table, Caedmon kept her fixed within his sights. “I am nothing if not nice, my love.”
Rounding her chair, he tangled his fingers through her hair. Her pulse skittered in eight billion directions at once as he tugged her head back for a bone-melting kiss.
Yeah, right. Nice didn’t begin to describe all the sensations he coaxed from her body. The kitchen door swung open and Jon and Oliver entered, several dry-cleaning hangers hanging off the bent index finger Ollie held near his shoulder.
He sized her up as Jon strode straight past the table and set three bulky grocery bags on the counter.
“You have a hicky on your neck.” Cellophane crinkled as Oliver draped the dry-cleaning bags over the back of a chair.
Rowena huffed. Her neck, her shoulders, her breasts… Hell, Caedmon had marked her as his from nape to knees. “You should see the rest of me.”
Opening the refrigerator, Jon began restocking the shelves. But it was the pointed way he refused to acknowledge anyone else in the room that waved a red flag of warning.