Waiting For You

by Glenda Diana

  She had wanted to call out to him, but the hurt she felt blocked her ability to speak. She lay back in her lonely bed and tried to decide what to do next. Should she pound on his door and demand entrance? No, she shook her head. She would wait until this evening, then she would find out why they still must sleep apart and why the door between them was to remain locked.

  She had foolishly thought that things would change since the vows had been read over them, but apparently she had been more than simply foolish ... she had been blind. She had given him her all and could think of no sound reason for them to be in separate rooms at anytime. She wanted to be with him, to share the joys that they found only when with each other. Did he think otherwise? How could he when she had been so expressive with her desire for him?

  Tears prickled her eyes and she closed them. Tonight she would have the answers to the hurtful questions that now sullied the memories they had created during the dark of night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Arysa made her way downstairs to find that Thomas had already left. It saddened her that she didn't get to tell him goodbye. Mrs. Reed explained that Thomas had another engagement and that he said he would stop by the next time he was passing through. Still bothered over Zebual's actions, Arysa found her appetite was gone and only managed to take a bite or two before finally making her excuses and leaving the kitchen.

  She stood in front of the large tapestry behind the master table and stared into the eyes of the winged wolf. A cold shiver ran down her back and she turned away. It did not look any differently, she told herself forcefully. She would not put herself through that again. Her sanity or lack of it wasn't going to come into question again, at least not by her. Others could think what they liked.

  The manor seemed overly silent compared to the day before. She stopped inside the portrait gallery. She refused to look at the painting of Connor and instead hurried down the hall to Zebual's library.

  It took her a few minutes to find a book that would occupy her mind. Clutching the book to her chest she headed for her room. She still had a couple of hours before Zebual would awaken. She gave a whispered sigh as she entered her room. Her gaze went to the closed door before she made her way to her bed. She was desperately hoping that the book would occupy her mind and speed time until Zebual unlocked the door between them.

  Zebual found her curled up on her bed asleep. The skirts of her dress were raised showing the length of her thigh. She tantalized him with her aura. She entrapped him with her sweetness. What a treasure she was, he thought as he removed his robe and carefully joined her on the bed. He needed her now and forever. His long fingers moved up the length of her legs, pushing her dress higher. He smiled at the sight of the light pink panties that covered her from him.

  Not one move did she make as he removed the shield that hid her from his view. He opened her, touching her core with the lightest of touches. Her movements were barely noted, but he felt them through every fragment of his being. Moisture met his questing fingers making his breath catch as it coated the outer recesses of her nether lips. He could delay no longer.

  Arysa awoke to the climax. Zebual was leaning over her, his fingers still lightly teasing her. Lifting a hand, she buried her fingers into the crisp white/black hair. There was a smile on his face, not one of gloating or male pride, but a smile of love.

  "Come to me," she whispered, opening her arms to him.

  Zebual kissed and licked his way up her body, pausing to give each breast his full attention and then slid into her heat. He closed his eyes against the sudden joy that filled him with his entry. Never had he felt more at ease and in his element than at this moment.

  Gripping her legs, he pulled them higher, going deeper. His name whispered around them, as her hands moved from his chest to his face, pulling him to her so she could taste his lips. Their tongues dueled in love-play. She gently sucked upon his tongue as her whole being was encircled in a mist of darkness. Her body was coming apart as she soared forward into the darkness that awaited her.

  Zebual nibbled at her bottom lip as his body slowly relaxed. Never, in a thousand life times would he ever get his fill of her. She was his sole substance of existance. Without her he had nothing, no desire to continue and no desire to dwell. Moving to her side, he held her in his arms.

  Arysa lay with her arms securely anchored to Zebual. As she drifted upon the gentle waves of their spent passion, her body felt as if it were not her own. She kissed the base of his neck where his pulse still beat in a rapid tempo. His hands caressed her back, offering her comfort from the pinnacle to which he had driven her.

  "Thank you, Zebual," she murmured just before kissing his neck yet again.

  "For what?"

  "Giving me your love."

  He grunted. Burying his fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back so that he could look into her eyes of green. "I thank you," he murmured.

  "How are you feeling?"

  A deep vibrating grunt issued from his lips. "Let me gather my strength and I will show you."

  Arysa gave a soft laugh. For a man who had been ill for a very long time, he showed no pause in having his way with her. In fact, she was finding it difficult to keep up with him and his exceptional lovemaking. He was like a starving man and the joining of their bodies was the feast he craved.

  "Why do you still lock me out of your room?" she finally whispered.

  He knew that question was coming. He had guessed that locking her from his room during the day was going to be harder than he had anticipated. "I merely sleep during the day. This way you can come and go as you please without fear of waking me."

  "That's a shabby way of putting it," she murmured, softly.

  Zebual braced his elbow on the bed and leaned over her slightly. "When I'm stronger, Arysa, then we will never be apart. Already I can feel my strength returning and it's you that has given me the desire to get well. Just let me get stronger to the point where I require less sleep in the day and then you will never be locked from my room again."

  She stared deep into his eyes and smiled. "I believe since yesterday you have gotten stronger. I want you well, Zebual. But I would like for you to remember that no matter what, I love you and would rather be at your side at all times."

  "I would ask you how you could love one such as me, but I'm afraid I would have to defend myself," he teased. "Whatever the reason, I am a very fortunate man."

  "I love you for what's in here." Arysa placed her hand over his heart. "Your body is a shell ... and though I adore this shell of yours, it's you that I love."

  Zebual lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. "You must be mad to adore such a shell, but you won't hear me complain. Instead, I return your love with mine and the adoration for your shell as well."

  Arysa laughed at his teasing look. "I know that the night is almost over, but I would like to hold you as long as possible."

  "We'll hold each other," he whispered, lying down and pulling her into his arms.

  Fear was something she had never given much thought to before, but here it was, filling her with its presence. It was the pain she decided, that allowed her fear to intimidate her. She knew she had to get a firm hold of her entire being or lose everything.

  She knew how this worked ... first the pain would weaken her and then fear would charge in and take control and then she would lose the battle ... a battle that had begun so long ago and one that she had no intention of losing. It was a battle for what she wanted, what she needed, and for what she would willingly give her life for.

  Tears filled her eyes and she fought them back. Now was not the time for such things. If she were to survive, it would be by her will and none other. Later ... later, she would deal with self-pity ... later.

  Arysa sat up and stared into the darkness. Zebual stirred at her side. He was awake and watching her. A shiver coursed down her spine when she heard the sound of distant thunder. Something was wrong, but what? Tossing the blankets aside she started to rise
and then paused. It was the dream she realized. Something about the dream made her ... no, urged her to do ... what? She went over what details she could remember of the dream and she still was at loss as to what was prompting her to flee.

  Zebual held his silence as he sat up. Stacking the pillows behind him, he leaned back. He too could hear the distant thunder tell him that their time had come.

  "Zebual?" she whispered. "What do you fear above all else?"

  Clearing his tight throat, he opened his eyes. "Never having you."

  Arysa turned to face him. "But I am yours."

  Zebual nodded and opened his arms for her. Arysa scooted close to him and laid her head upon his chest as her arms went around him. He inhaled the fragrance of her hair and slowly counted, trying to regain his composure. "I would, if I could, change whatever comes," he murmured.

  Tilting her head back she looked up at his profile. "What do you mean?"

  He shook his head. What could he tell her? The truth? A past that she did not remember was about to make its introduction and nothing he could say now would change that. If only there was someway he could prepare her, but how?

  "Know that I love you, Arysa."

  "What's wrong?" she asked, as her heart gave a painful lurch.

  Again he shook his head. "I need you," he whispered. "You are all that I have ever needed."

  "And you are all I will ever need," came her soft reply.

  "Do you pity me?"

  It was a question that tore at her heart. "No, Zebual. I don't pity you."

  "Thank you."

  "Do you pity me?"

  His laughter was raspy even to his own ears. "Enough, I get your meaning."

  "Then it's my turn to thank you."

  "And what would you be thanking me for?"

  Arysa caressed the back of his head. "For letting me be here with you," she whispered.

  He buried his face against her satin skin. She, of course, didn't understand just what exactly it was she was thanking him for. She might end up hating him when all was said and done. "Let me love you," he murmured, almost urgently.

  "Whatever you want, Zebual, I'll give you," she whispered, brushing her cheek against the top of his head.

  "Careful, Arysa ... I may take your soul."

  "It's yours already."

  Zebual's heart pounded fiercely inside his chest. His hands found her full breasts, cupping them as his thumbs moved over the hard points. He loved her breasts. He loved the way her whole body responded to him, turning hot and honeyed. He laid back. "Come here, Arysa. Touch me."

  "Where?"

  "Anywhere ... Everywhere."

  And she did ... touching and kissing him everywhere she could reach. Zebual's groans purred through the room, warming her blood as nothing else could. She enjoyed giving him pleasure. "Roll over, Zebual."

  He did as she directed. His eyes closed as he pushed the self-image of himself from his mind. Nothing could cool his ardor faster than seeing himself through his mind's eye. The feel of her naked bottom lightly sitting astride his thighs caused his shaft to throb painfully.

  Her moist lips moved down his spine as her hands gently caressed his weak muscles. Her body slid down farther until he could feel her sleek mound with his bare foot. Instinct took over as he brushed his foot against her. He could feel her wetness ... he could smell her arousal. A growl tried to make its way out and he swallowed it.

  "Rise just a little, love," he muttered between clenched teeth.

  Arysa did so almost reluctantly. She had been enjoying licking and kissing and lightly biting him. Each scrape of her teeth she had felt him tremble with his desire. Her reluctance faded when he rolled over and she caught sight of his hardness standing tall and proud before her. The tip of him was moist and shiny.

  "Nay, come here." Zebual murmured, when she started to lower her head to take him into her mouth. "That's it, move up higher. Now turn around." He could feel her uncertainty, but did as he asked. "Now, take me into your mouth."

  Arysa looked over her shoulder and then comprehension came. "What a wonderful idea, Zebual," she whispered with a smile.

  He almost laughed at that. She thought that he was the genius that had come up with this particular position. She gave him too much credit. But he wasn't about to let her know that. Grasping her hips, he pulled her down. Just one swipe of his tongue he gathered a sample of her elixir. He could feel the jarring of his inner being as it woke to the taste of her.

  Her lips closed over the crown of him and then slowly she sucked him deep into her mouth. The feel of her tongue stroking and caressing him was driving him to the very edge of his desire. The being was fully awake now and ready to take possession.

  "Arysa." His words barely panted out of him. "Turn," he managed to get out, but she heard him. Releasing him, she turned, waiting for him to direct her as to what he wanted next. "Ride me, love. Climb upon me, sheath me and ride me."

  It took her just a moment to position herself with his guidance. Zebual placed the tip of his shaft at her opening. Their combined wetness made entry easy. She closed her eyes and absorbed the new feelings that churned through her. Power was foremost. It was she that determined their speed, which was slow and tantalizing. Taking and releasing, capturing and surrendering until she couldn't control her passion any longer.

  Zebual held her to his chest as her release swept over her. His mouth claimed hers, catching her abandonment. His stomach tightened, the muscles in his legs grew taut and his hips raised pushing upward and deeper. The tremors of her passion pulled his seed from him swallowing them into the cavern of her core. He could hear her whispering his name, yet he was too weak to answer.

  Raising her head, Arysa looked up into the glowing red haze of his eyes, then suddenly it was gone, making her wonder if she had imagined it. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly in what she supposed was an effort at smiling. With a wide smile, she laid her head upon his chest. Her intention had been to hold him for just a few more moments before moving to his side. He did not need her extra weight lying upon him.

  As if sensing her thoughts he tightened his arm around her. He wanted her near him for as long as possible. Soon ... too soon the bell would toll, signaling an end to their time. There was a small part of him that was glad and yet there was the other side, the side that hated reality. If only he could have his say in all of this. If only he could deny their destiny and the reality that awaited them.

  *~*

  "How are you this evening, lass?" Mrs. Reed asked as she joined Arysa on the stairs.

  "Feeling rather lonely," Arysa replied with a sigh and then smiled. "Did you take Zebual and Justin their dinner?"

  "That I did. And just so you don't worry, I told him he best eat good or I would report back to you." Mrs. Reed laughed. "He is as fit as I've seen him. I can see the improvement in him already. He is on the mend, lass, and you are the healing balm."

  Arysa blushed as thoughts of their hours of lovemaking came to mind.

  "And I see he has been good for you too."

  "You are a shameful woman, Mrs. Reed," Arysa murmured and then laughed. "What a pair we make."

  "Aye, but women have to be made of stern stuff, deep passions and filled with a strength that comes in other forms than brawn. 'Tis our lot in life."

  "I cannot complain about my lot in this existence. Not now, maybe when first I woke to this world where I knew nothing, not even my name. But now I have so much, Zebual, Justin, you and the rest of the staff. All of you mean so much to me."

  Mrs. Reed started to reply when a bright flash of lightening cut through the windows followed by a booming clap of thunder that seemed to rock the very foundation of Syra. Mrs. Reed gasped and stumbled back a step. The loud noise made Arysa jump and her eyes widen. She reached out to assist the older woman. The expression on Mrs. Reed's face was one she had never seen before ... an expression that could only be associated with fear.

  Mrs. Reed moved up one step as if inching her wa
y back up the stairs. Her gaze moved from the front of the manor to the landing behind them. Arysa followed her gaze. Another explosion of thunder rocked around them. Mrs. Reed had the right of it, she thought. She had to get back upstairs to Zebual.

  Just then Hanah and Edmond rushed into the entrance hall followed by Reese and Tairam. The women looked frightened, but the men both wore an expression of anger mixed with a great deal of anxiety. Arysa noted the way Edmond placed a comforting arm around Hanah. Tairam was trying to get Reese to do the same, but he apparently was too preoccupied to take her meaning.

  The sound of running feet had all eyes on the landing behind them. Justin came into view. He was dressed differently, Arysa noticed absently. Tight leather pants of fawn encased his legs. Except for a vest that matched his pants, Justin's chest was bare. A long sword hung at his side. Arysa glanced back at Edmond and Reese and found that they too had swords sheathed at their sides. Taking a step toward Justin, she whispered, "Zebual?"

  His gaze met hers. "He is fine."

  "What is the matter?"

  Justin clamped his lips tightly together. "It's too late."

  Mrs. Reed put her hand on Arysa shoulder. "'Tis just another storm," she murmured.

  "I don't think so." Arysa shook her head. "The swords ... why do you need them?"

  Justin looked past her to where Edmond and Reese stood. "Open the doorway to the passage."

  Before either man could do as ordered the front portal crashed open.

  "'Tis a little late to be sending them scurrying off to hide." Came the deep penetrating voice as a dark figure moved forward from the black of night.

  Arysa had the sudden urge to run and hide as the voice washed over her. Her hands began to shake, so she clenched them tightly at her side. The stranger was evidently not welcome, which was fine by her. Whoever he was, she knew that she didn't like him. Her nervousness grew. She was being a coward, she scolded herself silently. Damned if she was! Stiffening her back, Arysa kept her gaze on the stranger.