“Are you hungry?”
As though intending to ensure he knew how much, her stomach rumbled again, louder this time, making her chuckle.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Motioning toward the table, Obsidian steered her over.
He pulled out a chair, helped her into it before taking the one to her left. From his spot, he had full view of the interior while she had an unobstructed view of the lights from the strip.
“Why won’t you let me ask questions?” Penelope took a sip of her orange juice.
His swirling silver eyes reflected his amusement. “That sounded like a question to me.”
She grinned. “You know what I mean.”
“Because I can’t lie to you.”
The butler appeared with a bowl of fruit—grapes, cantaloupe, honeydew—along with a serving dish holding whipped cream. For whatever reason, the sight of the whipped cream made her blush, as her thoughts drifted to some rather erotic images of what Obsidian might do with it.
Foregoing silverware, Penelope snagged a couple of grapes. “What do you mean you can’t lie?”
He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “Meaning it’s impossible.”
“So, what? You’re one of those men who can’t lie to people? Very noble.”
A sexy smirk tilted the corner of his mouth. “Not people. You. And it has nothing to do with nobility.”
“Rather cryptic,” she muttered, grabbing a piece of honeydew melon before she realized Obsidian wasn’t eating. “Something wrong?”
He continued to watch her. “Not at all. I find it rather fascinating to watch you eat.”
Because her stomach rumbled a reminder, she continued, pausing only to sip orange juice.
Her head lifted as his comment from a moment ago sank in. “Why do you want to lie to me?”
“I don’t. It’s the truth I worry might be difficult for you to deal with.”
Penelope tossed that around in her head, focusing on the fruit. Glowing eyes, strange emotions, ridiculous chemistry. Perhaps mind reading. Yeah, she could see where he was coming from because there was definitely something he was hiding.
Once she had finished off most of the grapes and the melon, the butler cleared away the dishes before bringing more. He took his time setting everything out, situating it perfectly.
“All right.” She turned her attention to Obsidian. “Time to address the elephant on the patio.”
His level stare remained on her.
“Your accent. It’s light, but I can hear it every now and again. Where’s it from?”
The relief on his face was tremendous. “I honestly didn’t think I had an accent.”
Not an answer, but okay.
“Everyone says that, don’t they?” she mused. “I guess you can’t hear your own as much as you can detect others’. But I heard you on the phone the other night. At my apartment. You were speaking in another language.”
The butler placed a scone in front of each of them, along with a cup of coffee.
“It’s an ancient dialect,” he said softly.
Of course he made no effort to elaborate.
While she hoped he could continue, Penelope doctored her coffee with cream and sugar, then snagged a piece of the scone.
“I’m starting to feel weird,” she told Obsidian when he didn’t make a move for the food. “Being that I’m the only one eating.”
“I much prefer the main course,” he said simply, his bright eyes glittering from the lights around them.
“As do I.” She pushed the scone away, then sipped her coffee.
Obsidian nodded at the man. He quickly discarded the dishes before bringing out steak and eggs, situated on the plate with an artful flair, a side of hash browns alongside them.
“Now we’re talking,” she mumbled, her stomach giving an approving rumble. “This looks divine.”
The smirk that pulled at Obsidian’s lips was perhaps the most attractive feature of his. It was the wickedness in that look, the promise of making her deepest, darkest desires come to life. Her body warmed in his presence, her attraction to him on a constant simmer. It was a different type of hunger that she was growing more aware of by the second.
They ate without speaking, the horns and traffic from the street drifting upward on the breeze. There was a comfortable silence between them, as though they’d been together for ages, not such a short amount of time.
Her thoughts drifted back to earlier, to the way that lonely coldness had disappeared the moment she set eyes on Obsidian once again.
“It’s because we were apart, isn’t it?” she questioned, putting down her fork in favor of her orange juice. “That empty feeling?”
His head slowly lifted. He blinked once, twice, clearly considering his response. “Because you thought I left, yes.”
“And the moment I saw you were here, it went away. Just like that.”
“Yes.”
“Did you feel it, too? That hollow sensation, as though you’d lost a part of yourself forever?”
“I felt your suffering,” he said softly. “It’s why I came to you, so you’d know I was there.”
It took a moment for her to form words. “What? You felt… Why… How could you feel mine?”
“That’s the way it works.”
“It? What exactly is it?”
Obsidian set his fork down. “It’s the Fates’ way of ensuring two souls remain together once they’ve found each other.”
The Fates?
Wait. “Souls? As in soul mates?”
He nodded.
“Are you saying I’m your soul mate?” She couldn’t help it, she laughed. It sounded ridiculous.
“Yes.” There wasn’t an ounce of amusement in his tone.
“You’re serious.” A warmth trickled in her veins, though she wasn’t sure why.
“Deadly.”
Praying he would continue, Penelope didn’t look away, took a long swallow of juice. “And how long does it last? That coldness?”
The silence she got in response was deafening. The man was obviously not eager to reveal this phenomenon.
“Look, Obsidian—”
He leaned forward, his steady gaze settling on her face. “Let’s enjoy tonight, Penelope. There’s plenty of time for explanations and long, drawn-out stories. Enough to last ten lifetimes. And I’m more than willing to share everything with you, but not tonight.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t. I question everything. I need to know. It’s in my nature to want to know how deep the pool is before I take the plunge.”
He swallowed hard.
Just when she thought he was going to reluctantly launch into details, music sounded from the speakers mounted in the overhead cover. A soft, romantic instrumental.
Very convenient.
“Dance with me?” Obsidian pushed to his feet, held out his hand.
Sighing her disappointment at his avoidance of her questions, Penelope stood when he pulled out her chair.
Of course, it passed quickly. The moment he drew her to him, her curiosity faded, her questions disappearing. The way one long, strong arm slid around her, the other bending so she could take his hand as he moved with ease and grace, Penelope was lost to him once again. The music, the lights glittering all around them, that sensual scent that was uniquely Obsidian … it consumed her, made her feel as though she was in her very own fairy tale.
“You did that, didn’t you? Turned the music on?”
“Yes.”
“With your mind?”
“Yes.”
Startled by his admission, Penelope stared up at him, her breath caught in her throat.
“You don’t have to fear me, Penelope.”
“I don’t. I just… I don’t know who you are,” she whispered. “I don’t know what you are.”
The vulnerability in his gaze shocked her.
“It doesn’t matter,” she assured him. “This … being with you … it feels perfect, Obsidian.”
And oddly enough, she never wanted it to end.
PENELOPE WAS RIGHT. THIS WAS PERFECT.
Being with her was both intimate and casual, yet the connection they had to one another was potent.
Of course, her questions were what bothered Obsidian most. Not because she asked them. He wanted to answer every single one, to tell his female everything about him. To share the stories of his past, to hear hers. It was what he’d been waiting for all these years.
Yet he wanted to keep some of the mystery. It was in his best interest to draw her closer, to make her fall in love with him the same way he was with her. It would help ease the confusion all his answers would invoke. And there was no doubt in his mind he’d already fallen for her. Didn’t matter that he’d spent merely hours in her presence, she was his lifeline, the only one he needed.
They moved on the private patio, their own dance floor, as the soft music played above them. Obsidian could hear the conversations taking place far below on the strip, Alden cleaning up inside, the curtains being pulled shut to ensure their privacy. He even heard someone’s deep breathing from the room next door. But he managed to block it all out, focus only on the beautiful female in his arms.
“You said before that perhaps we’re where we were meant to be,” Penelope said, staring up at him. “Do you believe that’s true?”
“I do.”
A soft smile formed on her lush mouth. “Me, too.”
“Yet you question it.”
“It’s in my nature. How, when, why something happened. Those are things I want to know, even if the answers won’t necessarily make sense to me.”
“And you think that’s the case here?”
Penelope’s hand worked its way up his chest, curling around his neck as Obsidian peered down into those honey-gold eyes. His breath locked in his throat as she brushed her thumb along his jaw. She wouldn’t realize how much he needed that simple touch. He’d spent years wanting to be this close to the female meant only for him, dreaming about the day it would come to fruition. Now that they were here, together, he couldn’t imagine a moment spent without her.
“I do. I won’t pretend to understand it, but … is this normal, Obsidian?”
“What?”
“Whatever this is between us.”
He waited her out, somehow knowing she would elaborate.
“When I’m near you, I feel complete,” she said softly. “As though I’ve found my other half. I can’t imagine not having this feeling last forever. But is that real? Or a figment of my imagination? The fantasy brought on by fairy tales and such?”
“This isn’t a fairy tale, Penelope. It’s definitely real.”
Obsidian could see the desire churning in her eyes. It called out to him, tempted him to take what he’d craved for so fucking long.
“Stop thinking so hard,” he whispered, urging her closer.
“I want you, Obsidian. I want to be close to you.”
Her cheek rested against him, the top of her head not quite reaching his chest. In that tiny package was everything he’d ever wanted. Her nearness and the soft cadence of her voice soothed him.
“Not just now,” she said softly. “Always. That’s new for me. I’ve never felt that way about anyone. And like I said, the timing scares me. It feels like I’m moving too fast.”
He tightened his grip on her, keeping her close, their movements limited to swaying.
“I don’t want to scare you,” she whispered. “I’m probably building this up too fast, but—”
Obsidian stopped moving, hooked his finger beneath her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his as he stepped back and bent closer to her.
“You don’t scare me, Penelope. And fast isn’t the right word.”
“What is?”
“Like you said, perfect,” he whispered, leaning down until his lips hovered just over hers.
“Obsidian…”
Letting the music move through them, he shifted with her once more, holding her close. With every whisper of her body against his, the tension inside him ratcheted up another notch. He wanted to feel her, to be inside her, deep enough she didn’t know where she ended and he began. It was all he could think about even as she was plagued by questions.
With purposeful movements, Obsidian worked them toward the section of the patio that was shielded from the rest.
He met her gaze as he slipped into her mind, searching for anything to reflect she wasn’t ready for this. He found nothing alarming, only a mirror image of what he was feeling. Desire, lust, contentment. As he’d hoped, she was allowing for the natural progression.
Her breaths rasped, her lips parting as though begging for his kiss.
“Don’t move,” he instructed when he stopped.
Her hands dropped to her side as Obsidian walked around behind her. He moved her hair to one side, then leaned down and brushed his lips against her neck.
“I want to make love to you, Penelope.”
She moaned softly as he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“I want to touch you, taste you.” He dragged his lips over her smooth, warm skin. “To be inside you.”
Penelope swayed in his arms, but he wouldn’t let her fall.
“Do you want that? To feel me inside you?”
“Yes. Touch me,” she pleaded. “It’s all I can think about. Your hands on me. Your mouth.”
Using the power of his mind, Obsidian lit the candles surrounding the lounge chair tucked into the alcove. Two dozen golden flames came to life, dancing in the soft breeze.
Penelope inhaled sharply.
He pulled her back against him, sliding his hands down her chest, his fingers inching beneath the terrycloth, working the robe open until her breasts were free for his roaming hands. Obsidian took his time exploring her glorious curves, sliding over smooth, warm skin. She was as soft as he’d imagined, smelled sweeter than the gardens in Heaven.
When she shifted, releasing the sash on the robe and allowing it to fall open, every part of him hardened.
“Penelope…” It was a warning. Or perhaps a plea. At this point, he didn’t know.
“Natural progression, remember?” Her hands settled on his as he cupped her breasts. “Please don’t stop touching me.”
“Drop your hands, Penelope.”
Her arms lowered as he kneaded the soft flesh, teasing her nipples, plucking them gently. Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He noticed how erotic it was to watch his hands moving over her so intimately. Never letting his fingers leave her skin, Obsidian shifted the robe off her shoulders. It slid to the ground at their feet, ignored.
Taking her hand, he led her over to the oversized cushioned lounge chair. It was the perfect spot, big enough for two, strong enough to hold his weight. He paused long enough to ease her down onto it before crawling over her, his lips finally seeking solace against hers.
Penelope whimpered softly, her hands moving to his shoulders, his neck as he explored her mouth with his tongue. Obsidian only released her lips so he could trail his over the delicate skin of her jaw. He allowed himself a second to inhale her sweet scent, to listen to the frantic pulse beating just a few inches from where his lips were.
He trailed light kisses down her throat, her clavicle, lingered for long moments between her breasts.
“Please, Obsidian… Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he whispered against her skin before dragging his tongue over the swell of her breast, pausing to circle her areola, teasing the taut peak.
Penelope sighed, thrusting her chest upward as though in offering. Obsidian sucked her nipple between his lips, stroked her with his tongue. He took his time, laving one breast, then the other, teasing his amsouelot until she was writhing beneath him, begging for more.
Watching her face, he trailed his tongue down her stomach, pausing to dip into her navel briefly before continuing lower as he repositioned so that his knees were on the hard concrete.
To his surprise, Penelope li
fted her head, observing as he shouldered her thighs apart, using his fingers to part her slick flesh. Their eyes met, held as he licked her, his tongue grazing her clit. Her stomach muscles spasmed and her surprised moan drifted on the air. He did it again, loving the way she watched as he feasted on her. She was the only meal he needed, and Obsidian intended to show her just how hungry he was.
Penelope’s hips punched upward, her head falling back as she cried out his name. The sensual sound had him driving his tongue inside her, thrusting as deep as he could go, his thumb circling her clit as he pushed her to the precipice, pulling her back just before she reached the pinnacle.
“Obsidian, please…”
“Tell me,” he ordered, kissing the inside of her thigh.
“Make me come,” she pleaded.
Drawing her clit between his lips, Obsidian flicked the bundle of nerves with his tongue, driving her higher and higher, this time not stopping until her body drew up tight and she cried out his name.
Crawling back over her, he smiled as she sucked in air.
“No one’s ever… I’ve never…” When she looked up at him, dazed and sated, her smile warmed every inch of him.
“No one’s ever what?” He needed to hear her say it.
“Licked me … intimately. Like that.”
That admission provoked his possessive instinct. He wanted to be the first of so many things for her.
While she worked his T-shirt up his torso, Obsidian sealed his lips to hers, allowed her to taste herself on his tongue, loving the way she purred, her hands roaming when she revealed skin.
“I want to feel you,” she whispered. “All of you. Against all of me.”
Obsidian pulled back, stared down into those glittering gold eyes.
“I’m yours, Obsidian. All yours.”
Pushing up onto his knees, he reached behind his neck, pulled the cotton over his head, and tossed it in the direction of her robe. A minute later, he’d stripped off everything else, once more hovering over her, his larger body covering her smaller one.
“You’re so”—her eyes skimmed over his chest—“beautiful.”
Protected in Darkness (Misplaced Halos, 1) Page 14