Claiming the East Wind
Page 6
“Soren—”
“You’re mine.” He looked her straight in the eyes. He gripped her hand and pressed it to the front of his slacks. The hard bulge filled her palm. “That’s how much I want you.” He moved her other hand to his chest and the firm beat of his heart. “This beats for you now, Skye.”
Emotion rushed into her, until tears stung her eyes. She was too afraid to believe this was true.
“You’re mine.” He nibbled at her lips. “You’re my Aurae, my savior, my love. You helped me defeat the greed. It was you, Skye, who made me realize that if I give instead of take, I can have far more precious treasures.”
“Oh, Soren.”
“Stay with me? Forever?”
She gripped his shoulders. “Yes. Yes!”
With a triumphant laugh, he scooped her into his arms. “Now I’m claiming you. So you’ll never forget who you belong to.”
He lay her on the bed and methodically stripped her of her clothes. She watched the man she was falling in love with take off his shirt, baring his glorious, lean chest. Then he shucked off his trousers and she was mesmerized by the sight of his long cock arching upward.
She scrambled up and reached for him. She smoothed her hand up his shaft, relished his groan. As she explored him, she’d never felt more in control or more turned on. “I want to taste you.”
He groaned again. “I won’t last and I want to be inside you.”
“Just a quick lick.”
His groan this time was deep and long.
Skye dragged in a deep breath. This was her decision. Her man. Her choice. She ran her tongue along his length, felt his big body shudder. For her. Then she sucked him into her mouth. He tasted salty. Not knowing exactly what to do, she followed instinct and his sounds of pleasure.
She was just finding a rhythm when his hands gripped her shoulders and pushed her back on the bed.
When he pressed his palms and knees onto the bed and loomed above her, she felt her muscles tense. No. She wouldn’t let the past intrude here, not during the happiest moment of her life.
“It’s okay, cara.” He stretched out beside her, turning her onto her left side. He snuggled in behind her, and she felt the hard jut of his cock against her buttocks. “Just let me love you.”
His big hand slid over her hip, trailed across her belly and dipped between her legs. When he found the small nub of her clit, she bucked and cried out.
“Shh. Just feel.” A hot whisper in her ear.
His wicked fingers swirled and flicked. She arched her back, pushing into his magnetic touch.
Then he was lifting her thigh up over his hip and before she realized what was happening, he thrust into her.
Oh, it felt so good. She pressed her hands into the mattress, enjoy ing the feel of him plastered against her, surrounding her, and the hard push of him inside her. His body slapped against hers as his thrusts grew more urgent. She loved this, but needed more.
She turned her head and he was there, his mouth finding hers, the rock of his hips never diminishing.
Moments later, she splintered apart and he followed the next instant, spurting his release inside her.
Their harsh breathing was the only sound in the room, their sated, sweaty bodies a warm tangle that could never be parted.
He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Let me fall in love with you, Skye? You have to say yes.”
She smiled. “Yes. A hundred times yes.” She only wanted to think good things, of the perfection of this moment, but she felt the past like a terrible shadow, lurking, never far.
He must have read her mind. “Our pasts will always be there.” He turned her to look at him, his hands cupping her face. “They made us into the people we are today, so we can’t forget them. The ghost of greed will always be inside me.”
“And my ghost—” would always haunt her.
“But together we have the chance to move on. We can build something new, something stronger.”
She nodded. “Together.” She leaned forward and claimed his mouth.
The kiss was long and slow and lazy. But soon it heated, turned rougher and more frantic.
Soren fell onto his back and gripped her hips. He shifted her firmly astride him. “Fancy another chance to ride the wind?”
Her laughter filled the room. “Soren!”
***
Soren held onto Skye’s hand as they went through the front door of the villa. The sun was setting, turning the lake to liquid gold ringed by shadowed mountains.
Down the stairs his brothers stood, each of them also holding the hand of the women who’d crashed into their world at the worst possible time and helped save them.
His fingers tightened on Skye’s hand. Grazie Dio.
Luca nodded to him. “You look…rested.”
Soren saw Skye blush and smiled. “Si, I am.”
“It’s time we finish this.” Dante tugged Samia close to his side. “We plan to take a vacation. A long one.”
“Sounds good to me.” Antonio flashed his trademark smile at Sophia. “What do you think?”
“I think you won’t hear any complaints,” she answered.
Rayne slung an arm across Skye’s shoulders. “So, get this ritual done. Then I plan to have a long talk with Soren about taking good care of my baby sister.”
The redhead’s words were light but Soren saw the deeper glint in her eyes. He was glad that Skye had someone else who loved her.
“Let’s do it,” Soren said.
The women moved back and Soren stepped into formation with his brothers. They each moved until they faced their cardinal direction.
Soren’s back was to the setting sun, staring past Antonio to the darkening eastern horizon. It felt right. A close to the vice that had plagued him all his life and almost consumed him the last few weeks.
But the best was the promise of a new beginning. A new life with the brothers he loved and the woman who was his.
The brothers reached out and clamped their hands around each other’s wrists. A strong link they’d proven could never be broken.
They summoned their winds.
They’d never completed this ritual before, but with the memories of their ancestors, it was easy to follow the faded recollections of past rituals. The cardinal winds roared up, twining together between the men in a strong funnel.
The wind ruffled their clothes, their hair. The combined strength was beyond anything Soren had experienced.
The tornado speared into the air. Around them, Soren heard the vicious whispers of the banished Venti Tempesta. Whispers of envy, anger, lust and greed. They grew in volume and urgency, until the winds snatched them up and the funnel lifted off the ground and flew away to the south.
Toward Isola del Vento and the horses there that would house the evil. It would once again be their prison.
“We’ll need to appoint a new Keeper to watch over them.” Luca scowled. “Livia is perfectly happy being mortal again with our damn horse trainer.”
Soren’s lips quirked. Love certainly hadn’t mellowed Luca’s surliness. The previous Keeper had lost her immortality and was now in love. Livia Cavalli deserved it. “I’m happy for her and Rafe. Hard not to be when we’ve all found our perfect matches.”
As one, the men turned and stared at the four women standing in front of the villa watching them.
“We’ll find a Keeper.” Soren strode up the steps toward Skye. “But for now, Skye and I have better things to do.”
“Sounds like a damned good idea,” Antonio said with a laugh.
As Dante, and even Luca, joined in the laugher, Soren stared straight at Skye. She watched his approach with a smile.
He was free. His brothers were free.
Free to live the life they wanted, with the women they wanted above all else.
<<<<>>>>
Coming Soon
I hope you enjoyed reading Claiming the East Wind.
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Check out the rest of the WindKeepers series:
Book 1: Wind Kissed, Fire Bound
Book 2: Taken by the South Wind
Book 3: Tempting the West Wind
Book 4: Defying the North Wind
Book 5: Claiming the East Wind
Read an excerpt: Turn the page for an excerpt from Time Thief, Book 1 of The Anomaly Trilogy.
Excerpt from Time Thief
The Anomaly Trilogy: Book One
by Anna Hackett
She’d been a thief a long time but bank robbery was a new low.
Bay North stood in line at the Concord Downing Bank and surreptitiously scratched under her wig. The damn thing itched like crazy.
She ran a hand down the pencil skirt of her cheap, gray business suit. It was a challenge trying to blend in with the Denver lunch crowd waiting to bank checks and open new accounts.
The suit, the foreign makeup and brown wig were her attempt at a chic disguise. She swallowed a snort. She wouldn’t know chic if it slammed her in the head with a pair of designer heels. Out of necessity, she usually wore clothes she could run in.
Things might have been different if she hadn’t been born a freak.
Her chest constricted. She fought to keep her hands relaxed, to not curl them into tight little fists.
Things weren’t different. She breathed out. Imagined the rush of emotions bleeding away like a spent wave.
Casually, Bay cast a glance around the bank. The foyer was all marble, mahogany and old-world brass fixtures. Located in an historic building in downtown Denver, Concord Downing catered to the city’s wealthiest clients.
Behind the row of tellers, a door led downstairs to the vault. She didn’t let her gaze linger but she noted every aspect of the heavy, reinforced entry.
A quick glance at her Rolex knockoff. In exactly one minute, two of the bank staff would open the dual combination lock. Then, another minute after that, the time lock door on the vault beyond would open.
Then she’d show that murdering bastard Gabriel Leven that she could give as good as she got. She’d steal one of his most prized treasures—the Scarlet Lady.
An antique ruby necklace of incalculable value.
Come on, come on. She tapped one cheap pump against the floor and watched the door out of the corner of her eye. Funny how time moved like cold honey when you were waiting. Even funnier since time was her commodity.
Movement. Two bank employees were heading for the door. Show time.
She gave the room another slow scan. Everything looked as it should. White-collar workers going about their business between chicken wraps and lattes.
One big man’s shoulders strained against his ill-fitting suit. He looked like he wanted to shred his too-tight jacket. Not far from him, another muscle-bound jock stood against a pillar, his jacket not even managing to hide the bulge of whatever he had holstered at his side.
A skitter of unease rippled up Bay’s spine.
What the hell was muscle doing pretending to fit into the bank crowd?
Swallowing hard, she looked directly at the door. The bank staff held keycards up to the scanners. The reinforced metal swung open and beyond she had the impression of a featureless corridor.
But from a night spent plying an off-duty bank guard with Wild Turkey and Coke, she knew that inside lay an impregnable vault housing safe deposit boxes for the rich and seriously rich. Protected by four armed guards.
None of that mattered. In another forty seconds the time lock door would open and she’d be home free.
She eyed the suits again. Were they watching her? Or were her nerves just strung too tight?
It didn’t matter if they were Leven’s men. She wasn’t leaving this bank without his strand of big, fat rubies in her hand. She planned to dig a knife deep by taking something he treasured. And destroying it.
Twenty seconds to go.
Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen.
Her gaze swept over the spacious foyer with its gleaming marble and hushed atmosphere. Then it snagged on a man.
A tall, lean man who watched her with an intensity that made her blood freeze. Oh God, he’d found her.
Seventeen. Sixteen. Fifteen.
He stood in the middle of the cavernous space, not even pretending to blend in. His hands were by his side, but she sensed coiled readiness. Like a gunslinger waiting to draw.
Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve.
His gray gaze locked on her. A handsome face battered by life. He’d been after her for months and he never gave up.
He was a hunter. And she was the hunted.
Eleven. Ten. Nine.
She cast a frantic glance at the doorway to the vault.
Hurry up! She wanted to shout the words but she held her breath until her lungs burned. She looked back at Leven’s hunter.
Eight. Seven. Six.
He launched himself at her.
God, he was fast. He pumped his arms, his movements strong and efficient. In those storm-cloud eyes, she saw the burn of something hot and scary.
Five. Four.
She stumbled out of line, but she knew she’d never outrun him. She only had one option for escape, but she needed the damn time lock open before she did it.
A powerfully muscled arm crossed the space between them. Fingers gripped her wrist.
Three. Two
“Nowhere to go, time thief,” the hunter growled.
One.
Bay stole time.
The world around her froze. People petrified, all sound silenced. Through the large plate glass windows, the cars on the street were immobile. She looked at the oversized railway clock on the wall—motionless.
She was stealing time.
And she had work to do.
She studied her hunter. Three months he’d been after her and this was the closest he’d come. He was far more intelligent than Leven’s usual thugs. She pulled his hand off her wrist and looked again at that rugged face.
Tawny hair fell over his forehead and his skin was deeply tanned. He looked like he belonged outdoors, climbing a mountain or captaining a ship. Without thinking, she touched a finger to his strong jaw and the intriguing dip in his chin.
When she registered the warmth of his skin, she snatched her hand back. Idiot.
His gray eyes still burned. She recognized what lurked there—saw the reflection of it in her own eyes every day—revenge.
“What did I ever do to you?” she wondered.
She turned her back on him and headed to the doorway where the two bank employees stood frozen. It gave the perfect line of sight to the vault and its half open door.
Excellent.
She cast one quick look back at her immobile hunter. Something told her he didn’t like to lose.
***
Sean Archer blinked. His arm dropped to his side.
He stood in the middle of the bank lobby, people moving and talking around him.
She was gone.
“Damn it.” He resisted the urge to hit something.
He’d had her, held her delicate wrist in his hand. He hadn’t imagined such a powerful being would have wrist-bones finer than a child’s.
He’d come close to her before, but it was the first time he’d touched her. He flexed his fingers, still felt her smooth skin.
Snap out of it. She was dangerous. She’d stolen time and he’d been vulnerable. Every person in the bank had been a perfect target. She could have slaughtered them where they stood without any of them fighting back.
Just like what had happened to his team.
A shock of hot emotion stormed through him, churning his gut. For a second he was back in the Afghan desert—the scent of blood sharp in his nose, air hissing through his punctured lung, sand hot beneath his cheek.
A flurry of motion snapped him out of his nightmare.
The bank manager—a woman in a sharp black suit—looked s
ick, her face pale. Another employee stood wringing his hands in front of the yawning door leading to the vault.
Gabriel Leven had just lost his prized necklace.
Spinning, Sean aimed for the front door. He nodded at the men who’d come with him, and they fell in step beside him. Outside, he headed for two black SUVs parked on the street.
He wrenched open the door. “I need the horologion. Now.”
The driver grumbled then slapped a small device into Sean’s hand.
Sean turned his back on the man. Leven’s men were sloppy and undisciplined. Nothing like the well-trained soldiers he’d served with.
You aren’t a SEAL anymore. As the rest of Leven’s men stood idly around the cars, one lighting up a cigarette, Sean thought about just how far he’d fallen.
Working for a criminal.
No. He was nothing like Leven or his men. They were just a means to an end. He needed Leven’s knowledge and resources to rid the world of a dangerous threat it didn’t even know existed.
He focused on the horologion. It looked like a cellphone with a slightly larger screen. He activated it and waited. Cooked up by the scientists Leven had working for him, this little thing didn’t measure time. It measured the residual trace of when time was stolen.
The horologion gave a discreet beep. He held it toward the bank. The beeping increased.
Gotcha. “Stay with the vehicles. I’ll call you when I need you.” He strode down the sidewalk.
He followed the trail through the city streets. Went through the atrium lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel, pushed through shoppers on the 16th Street Mall and ended up in the Lower Downtown district with its renovated warehouses.
The time thief was far from stupid. She always left a complicated trail. He’d almost caught her in New York a week back, but the trail had ended at the East River and he still didn’t know if she’d risked disease by getting in the water.
She couldn’t steal time again so soon after the bank. Or if she did, she could only hold it a few seconds. Thank God they didn’t have endless power. But her trail was dissipating.
He glanced up. Union Station.