Malach levered himself onto one elbow to worry at the bow of Jade’s halter. When the bodice loosened he pushed the fabric down to her waist, baring her breasts. He gazed at her, his scrutiny so intent that heat flared in her cheeks. Discomforted, she tried to roll over, to hide herself from him, but he clamped both her shoulders with his big hands.
“Do not act like a shrinking virgin. We both know the truth of what you are.”
Whore.
The unspoken word sliced into her and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the pain and unfairness of having it thrown in her face by the very man whose idea it’d been to have sex in the first place. But it was only the truth. Before, she’d been fully prepared to barter sex for money, now she was on the brink of bartering sex to escape this whole bizarre situation.
Wet warmth laved her nipple, teasing it erect. Suction, hard and uncompromising, alternating with teeth nibbling and then biting gently. Fierce pleasure shot to her loins. She gasped and involuntarily arched her back, pressing her breast deeper into his mouth.
He switched to the other breast, his clever tongue enticing tiny whimpers from between her tightly clamped lips. Then rough, callused fingers replaced his mouth. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, tweaking them before palming her breasts in his big hands.
He moved down her body, stripping her of her dress, pressing his lips to each inch of newly exposed skin. Until finally, the only barrier between his lips and her skin were her panties.
She opened her eyes to stillness, glancing down the length of her body to discover him sitting back on his heels, eyes hooded. He seemed to be staring through her as though….
Some other woman lay in her place.
Francesca. The woman’s name whispered in Jade’s mind. And she knew from the hollow expression in his eyes, the flat, uncompromising line of his lips, that Malach still mourned her.
Disappointment lanced through her soul, and hard on its heels came a wash of pity. He couldn’t forget this woman, this Francesca. And who was she, Jade, to make him forget? There was sexual attraction between them, but no matter how burningly intense that attraction, there was nothing more. They were both using each other, and after the using was done, they would both still be hurting.
Jade levered herself into a sitting position, figuring she might as well have a go at opening the dratted door again. Her movement yanked Malach back to the here-and-now and his hungry gaze locked onto hers. “Where do you think you are going?”
“Um, you don’t seem to be in the mood anymore? So I thought I’d— Eep!”
He ripped her panties from her body, then spread her thighs and buried his face between them. “Malach!”
His fingers parted her labia.
“What do you think you’re— Aaahhh!” His tongue flicked the nub of her clit, sending electric-hot currents of pleasure spiking down her spine and through her pelvis. He teased her flesh, licking and nuzzling and sucking until she collapsed back onto the mattress, her rubbery muscles unable to hold her upright any longer.
One of his long fingers speared the heated slickness of her pussy, pressing deep, joined by another finger thrusting in and out, giving her a taste of what her body craved. She fisted the coverlet, clutching it and clenching her jaw so as not to scream. She writhed beneath his tongue, her head thrashing from side to side and her breath coming in short sharp pants interspersed with tiny mews of pleasure.
She couldn’t control her body, her reactions to what he was doing to her, making her feel. She was shivering on the verge of climax when Malach lifted his head.
“You liked that.” His breath tickled the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
She more than merely liked what he’d done. The unfamiliar feelings coursing through her body were exciting, achingly exquisite. Whenever Malach touched her, wherever he touched her, she loved it… and then despised herself for feeling any pleasure whatsoever at the hands of a man who was only using her body for his own ends. Whether it was to sate his sexual needs, or to break some spell, he was still using her.
Just as she was using him.
And, dammit, she didn’t want to refuse what he offered. Right now, here, in this room, on this bed, she wanted him to screw her. And the consequences could go leap from a tall building in a single bound.
Malach climbed off the bed to stand beside it, looking down at her. He held out a hand. “Undress me, Jade. It has been too long since I have felt anything at all and I need to feel the closeness of another human being. I need to feel you, Jade. Skin-to-skin, with no barriers between us.”
He was broken, hurting. And he wanted her. Needed her.
It was a devastating combination. He was devastating. And she couldn’t resist him.
She sat up and placed her hand in his, allowing him to tug her off the bed. The flush of embarrassment at her nakedness was soon drowned by the thrill of discovery as she loosened the leather thong lacing the front of his vest. She couldn’t resist running her palm over the muscles of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen. Finally she reached up to pull the vest over his head, finding it an impossible task given his height until Malach bent at the waist to allow her to pull off the vest.
Jade caught her breath as she gazed at him. The width and heavy muscularity of his shoulders, arms, and bare chest suggested more than a fleeting love affair with working out. Malach exuded raw strength and power. Give him a sword or something heavier—a battle-ax or mace, perhaps—and she had no doubt he’d swing it for hours without tiring.
Scars and a deep ridge of puckered flesh highlighted that a chunk of flesh had been torn from his left side at some stage. She knew then that he’d battled his enemies to the death without qualm or regret.
He’d do whatever it took to survive.
Like now. With her.
He stood stiff and unyielding and tightly controlled while she explored him, stroking and smoothing and kneading. And when she dared glance up at his face, his posture was a mirror of his expression. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, panic spiking through her veins. Was she doing something wrong? Were her tentative attempts at seduction so very clumsy?
She picked undone the thong lacing the fly of his trousers and slipped her hand inside. She combed her fingers through his crisp pubic hair, sliding past the silky smoothness of his erect cock to cup his scrotum. As she gently squeezed the soft pouches she stole glances at his face, waiting for some reaction, some sign. But there was nothing. No darkening of his eyes, no heat in his gaze that might suggest heightened sexual arousal.
Her hand inadvertently convulsed around his balls. Oh crap. She couldn’t even do this one thing—arouse him. She was a sexually inexperienced disaster. She was—
He exploded into motion, yanking her hand from his pants and picking her up only to toss her atop the bed. She bounced in a startled sprawl of limbs, eyes widening as she watched him strip. His cock jutted against his belly, as big and long and thick as she’d envisioned it to be.
Bigger.
She averted her gaze, suddenly scared of what was to come, of what she’d provoked.
He flipped her onto her belly and she went rigid as he pulled her onto her knees and spread her thighs wide.
Oh God. Doggy-style it was, then. At least it would be easier if she didn’t have to see his face screwing up all blindly Murray-like when he came. It would be easier, right? Her limbs quivered. Oh God. This was going to be a disaster.
Her head drooped until it was pillowed atop her crossed arms, leaving her butt thrust in the air, and when the coolness of the air-conditioned room caressed her exposed skin, she abruptly concluded the position left her far too vulnerable. She began to straighten her arms again, only to still at Malach’s command.
“No. Stay as you were. I like the view.”
Her breath hitched. “I-I h-have condoms in my bag.” She felt that damning heat washing her face again as she fought to control the wobble in her voice.
“Condoms?” Silence. And then, “Ah yes, I remember thes
e condoms. But I have no diseases. Do you?”
She twisted to look at him over her shoulder. “No! Of course not. But—”
“And, in the way of your world’s women, I presume you are protected against pregnancy.”
“Yes.” She silently thanked Grace for insisting she go on the pill. “Just in case,” Grace had said, not that she’d probably imagined Jade in a situation like this at the time. “But—”
“It will be all right, Jade. You cannot catch any diseases from me. I will explain it all to you in time, but for now, I have other things on my mind.” Malach stroked a finger through her cleft.
Her body jerked and her mind raced. Maybe she wouldn’t be ready. Maybe she wouldn’t be wet enough to take him inside her. Maybe he’d give up and— “Ahhh.”
His fingers probed tell-tale slickness and then pushed inside her while his thumb strummed her clit. Tingling white-hot pleasure burst through her brain and her body—even her toes—as he expertly drove her toward orgasm. She came in a pulsing rush that left her gasping for breath and seeing little stars cavorting through her head-space.
Before she could flop forward onto her stomach in a loose-limbed sprawl, his hands grasped her hips, holding her still. She could barely summon the strength to tense her muscles when the slick head of his cock probed her opening, parted her labial lips, and slowly pushed inside her. “Gods. You are so tight ’tis like taking a virgin.”
She bit her lips against a sob as sharp pain bloomed.
Malach stilled. And then he pushed in further, deeper, and the sensation of being implacably stretched and steadily filled became almost too much to bear. His cock was a throbbing presence that her body instinctively welcomed and somehow accommodated as he accustomed her to his invasion, clasping her to him with one arm wrapped around her mid-section as he rocked gently within her. The pain was quickly forgotten as she teetered on the brink of pleasure… and then wholeheartedly embraced it.
With excruciating slowness he withdrew almost completely to tease her with the tip of his cock. He reached around her body to finger her clit until she could bear no more and arched her back, pressing her buttocks toward him, enticing him, wanting him—all of him—inside her. He worked his cock a little way in and paused. “Tell me what you want, Jade.”
She quivered, and then rocked back into him.
“This?” He pushed himself a little deeper inside her.
She whimpered.
“More?”
“Yes. More. Now.”
He thrust all the way to the hilt inside her, so deep his balls slapped against her tender flesh.
Instinctively she clenched her inner muscles around him. A rumbling groan tore from his throat, and a thrill coursed through her body at the realization that she was not entirely powerless. She clenched again, tighter and stronger this time, and purred with purely female satisfaction when he groaned.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice hoarse. “This?”
He pumped his cock into her, slowly increasing the speed and power of his thrusts, inexorably nudging her toward mindlessness.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He tilted her hips and the angle only intensified her pleasure as he stroked in and out, in and out, faster and faster.
“And this?”
“Yes. Yes! Fuck me, damn you!” Her inner muscles spasmed around his cock as he complied, fucking her in fast, deep strokes, grinding into her and withdrawing, the sensation a sensual pulling and pushing that tipped her over into ecstasy. Heat spiraled through her, pooling in her belly, intensifying until she wanted to shriek. And as her orgasm consumed her, she screamed his name.
With one last powerful thrust, Malach spilled himself inside her. He wrapped his arms about her waist and toppled them over onto their sides. They lay on the mattress, both panting, still intimately joined, incapable of moving.
“I do not consider Pieter my equal in the art of pleasuring you, Jade,” Malach murmured against her hair. His hand strayed to her breast, palming it, his touch and his warmth streaking straight to the pleasure centers of her brain.
“Probably not,” she managed to get out in between trying to catch her breath. “But… then again… just to make… absolutely sure… want to go again?”
He chuckled with genuine amusement, his laughter vibrating against the sensitive skin of her nape. She imagined his chiseled lips curving into an all-too-rare smile and the vision warmed her heart.
They did go again. Twice. And their last coupling was a gentle exploration of each other’s bodies that seemed to last for hours. Perhaps it did—Jade was far too involved with the sheer wonder of the experience to bother watching the clock.
Immediately after Malach climaxed for the third time, Jade’s ears rung as though a church bell had tolled inside her head.
The echoing sound abruptly faded as Malach said, “We are bonded.” He sounded faintly surprised. “The old man was right about you, damn his eyes. Now there is no turning back.” He rolled off her to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling.
Jade opened her mouth to enquire what the bells meant, what this bonding stuff meant for her—for them both—but he preempted her questions by gathering her into his arms and draping her over him like a blanket. “I need rest, Jade. Please.”
Sensing he needed comfort and her understanding—even though she didn’t understand anything about this—she lay her cheek on his chest and let him caress her hair with long, gentle strokes. Despite her curiosity and the unanswered questions whirling in her brain, she drifted off to sleep cradled securely in Malach’s arms, all her worries banished for a little while by the comfort of being held and protected from anything the world might throw at her.
~~~
A shout awoke her.
She lay still, heart pounding, brain struggling to remember where she was.
The hotel.
She relaxed. Probably some drunken guest trying to find his room. Then the blankets covering her heaved and bucked. She leaped from the bed and stood beside it, shivering in the dim light.
He shouted again as he fought with the tangled covers. He struggled and thrashed until he succeeded in throwing them to the floor, and then he bolted to a sitting position, his chest heaving, brow slick with sweat.
Jade peered at his face. His features were twisted into an almost unrecognizable mask of fear—an expression she’d never imagined she would see on his face. She barely knew him but her first impression had been that Malach was a strong man, both physically and mentally. A man utterly capable and supremely confident of his chosen path. She’d imagined him facing whatever life threw at him with courage and conviction. And in the hours she’d spent with him since, she’d seen nothing to alter that first impression of him.
“Francesca!”
That name again. Uttered this time with despair and longing and heartbreak.
“Not the crystal again. Gods. No. Please, no!” His voice was hoarse and raw, as though he’d been screaming for hours.
A shiver that had nothing to do with standing naked in an air-conditioned room crawled up Jade’s spine. It was a shiver of presentiment, of knowing. Malach had been screaming for hours. Silently, in his mind, where she couldn’t hear him.
“I choose death! Kill me, Crystal Guardian. Kill me, you coward. Damn you, old man, why won’t you kill me? Kill meeeeeeeeee!” His scream trailed off into eerie silence, punctuated only by the harsh gulps that signified his struggles to breathe.
Shaken and trembling, Jade switched on the bedside light, illuminating the room in a soft glow.
Malach’s pale blue eyes were wide and sightless, blinded by his inner demons. His nightmare repelled even the light, capturing him in its warped version of reality. He stretched his mouth wide and screamed again.
“Malach.” She approached him, and gently shook his arm. “It’s me, Jade.”
He grabbed her, his hands viselike around her upper arms, his grip bruising and punishing.
“Malac
h! You’re hurting me!”
The pain in her voice got through to him for his grip eased and he blinked, focusing on her face. He hauled her into his lap, first patting her face gently with his palms, and then stroking them over her body.
“Are you real?” It was a broken whisper from a broken man, and her heart clenched with pity for his suffering.
“Yes. I’m here, Malach. I’m real.”
“Thank the gods. Thank the gods. Thank you!” He wrapped his arms around her, buried his face against her neck and rocked her like a child, all the while chanting heartfelt thanks to his gods.
Some gods. Jade didn’t think she ever wanted to meet Malach’s vengeful, uncaring gods. She no longer believed in God. Her belief had been thoroughly shaken when her parents died, and she’d given up the last vestiges of belief when… when….
Something bad had happened. Not to her. But to… to….
Gahhh! Why couldn’t she remember?
She tugged Malach down to the mattress and wrapped herself around him, cradling his head against her breasts. And she lay wakeful, listening to him breathe, watching over him as best she could, offering what little comfort she could. She had nothing else to offer a man so obviously traumatized, and she regretted it.
When Malach finally lapsed into a sound sleep, she set about carefully extricating herself from his arms. She pulled the covers up over his hips and stood staring down at him for a long time, memorizing his face. Then she turned away, hating herself for what she was about to do.
If Pieter hadn’t been feeding Malach a load of complete bollocks then maybe—just maybe….
She tiptoed over to the door and tried the handle. It opened. And stayed open until she quietly eased it shut again.
The door had been linked to some kind of a sex spell after all, and three times had definitely been the charm. She wondered if Aunt Lìli had ever come across such a thing. Maybe she’d ask—if she could find a way to broach the subject without making her aunt suspicious.
She glanced at the clock. It was just gone five in the morning. Hopefully there’d be a bus to Lane Cove along soon, and Jade fully intended to be on it. Snatching up her dress she slipped into the bathroom.
The Crystal Warriors Series Bundle Page 59