With a throaty laugh, Nade joined her, tossing a teasing grin over her shoulder at Keza. “Our party, our rules.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Keza made a sound like a strangled laugh and joined her sisters. That’s when Stryker realized he was really in trouble. The dance steps were the same, but the three women moved very differently, the graceful reverence replaced by sultry abandon. Keza danced with her eyes half closed, lips parted in a small smile, her whole body moving as if she was being caressed. She looked almost as transported as she had when he’d made love to her.
“Kessu,” Stryker hissed through clenched teeth, all the muscles of his body clenching in reaction.
He heard a faint chuckle next to him and sensed Myelle’s departure, but he didn’t pay any attention. He endured the torture of watching his Keza writhe before him for all of ten more seconds. Then he rose abruptly and stalked forward.
Nade saw him, grabbed Liss, and dragged her giggling sister out of the temple. He hardly noticed. Keza whirled to a stop, watching him through her lashes, chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. Smoke curled between them, sweetening the air.
He tried to fight it, tried to remember the cage, the bars. “What do you want from me?” he grated.
“Only what you want to give me,” she whispered.
“Stud service?” he ground through his teeth, clenching his fists while that indescribable need clawed him to pieces from the inside out.
“I would love a beautiful, black-eyed baby.” She took a step forward, lifting her chin to look at him with clear amber eyes. “But what I want is you.”
Half a heartbeat later he held her, lifting her off her feet and crushing her against him, his hand cradling her head while he slanted his mouth across hers. Yes. Every part of him soaked her in and hungered for more. She tasted just like he remembered, better than he remembered, nectar and smoky, hot sunshine. And she was softer than he remembered, hot silk and sweet, giving flesh. She wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he groaned his approval, sliding a hand down to cup her bottom and settle her where he needed her the most. His breath hissed in at the friction against his unbearably hard erection.
She whimpered. Kessu, he’d forgotten what that sound did to him. He bore her to the ground, pinning her to the marble floor and pressing hard against her in a frantic effort to get closer, to climb inside her skin. She gripped him tight as if she had the same need, her nails pressing dull pinpoints of pain into his shoulders. He made a sound that he’d never made before and lowered his head to her throat, tasting her skin and pulling fabric away from her flesh. Her breasts were bare under the cloth and he groaned, reaching down to slide a hand up her thigh. As he’d guessed, she was bare everywhere else as well. He sank his teeth into her neck and she bucked under him, crying out and fisting her hands in his shirt.
“Chase, I need you, get naked,” she said in a near growl, yanking ineffectually on the cloth.
The demand in her voice almost sent him over the edge. No, this woman wasn’t afraid of him—she was hot, passionate, wild with need, but not afraid. He jerked the cloth over his head one-handed, nearly tearing it, before he sealed his mouth over hers, going deep, deeper, but not nearly deep enough. Her hands swept down his back and slipped under the edge of his pants, and he tore his mouth away with a gasp, the tantalizing flame of her touch burning his defenses to ash.
“Damn it, Keza...”
“What part of naked are you not—?”
With a growl, he kissed her again hard, pushing up and yanking violently on his clothes. He was shaking, his whole body was shaking, out of control, and he needed to be inside her more than anything in his life. He’d done no more than shove his pants down enough to free his arousal when she began pulling him back to her.
“Keza,” he panted, trying to remember that she was small and fragile. “Wait, don’t know if you’re ready—”
“Oh, so ready,” she moaned, taking him a hairsbreadth to explosion. Cupping his face in her hands, she whispered against his mouth, “You watched me dance.”
He sank into her to the hilt and she wasn’t just ready—she was hot, wet, and greedy, her inner walls coiling around his shaft in a tight grip that demanded more and promised heaven in return. But he ignored the roaring demand of his body to drive into her hard and fast. He didn’t want it to be over so quickly, needed it to last. Muffling her cries with his mouth, he ground his whole body against her, chest, abdomen, pelvis, feeling her silken body twist and writhe under him with savage pleasure. Lifting his mouth, he trailed a path down her throat and over her chest, laving each of her nipples and teasing them with his teeth.
“Chase,” she repeated over and over, driving ripples of heat and surging pleasure through him with every sound, with every slide of her skin and clench of her body.
“Keza mine,” he answered in a voice that was barely human, lifting his head to stare into sultry amber.
“Yes,” she said, as if acknowledging his claim on her. “Yes.”
He thrust and thrust again, the pleasure sudden and fierce, gripping him like a vice and ruining any control he might have had. He suddenly remembered that she was naeva, that this act might produce a child. The thought of planting a baby deep within her womb seared him from the inside out, a blaze of passion and possession that turned his world incandescent. His body pounded into hers with wild abandon. He felt her contract around him, and his universe ruptured as if hammered by a god in a flash of blind, pure-white pleasure.
Chapter 14
Keza stared up through blurred vision and heavy lashes, saw the sun-dappled Goddess standing over them, and concluded that she must have died and been transported to the Goddess’ Garden. Only paradise could feel this good. Pleasure sparkled through her, from her sweetly throbbing body all the way through to her soul. Joy and peace hummed from her glowing center to fill the air around her like a shimmering cloud. Thank you, sweet Goddess. Oh, thank you for this man and this moment, for however long it lasts.
The thought brought a bittersweet thread to her joy, but she didn’t cry this time. Nothing lasted forever and this kind of sublime gift surely wouldn’t last any longer than a fleeting rainbow or a glorious sunset. She would enjoy it while she had it.
"Impossible," he muttered close to her ear and she smiled dreamily at the rough velvet of his voice, before the meaning of the word sank in. Then reality started to slip back into focus, banishing paradise. "Told myself I wouldn’t do this," he added, not lifting his forehead off the marble floor.
Keza felt her smile slip away and let out a silent sigh of regret. It hadn’t even lasted as long as a sunset. Stubbornly, she tightened her grip on him, feeling his hard muscles and sleek skin with a sense of wonder. He had one of her hands trapped beneath his, and he flexed his fingers between hers in response. "I didn’t force you," she whispered.
He made a sound that could have been disgust or amusement. "Don’t take much. I could barely keep my hands off you when you were bundled from neck to toes in flannel. Watching you dance in this silky thing damn near blew the top of my head off."
She shivered with pleasure at the memory of his dark eyes, hot and primal, watching her move under the Goddess’s approving gaze. It may have been a dance celebrating seductive passion, but she’d felt like the one seduced, his midnight gaze licking her with tongues of fire. But he’d just said impossible like a denial of all the things she yearned for. "You could have walked away."
"No, I couldn’t. That’s the problem." He raised his head, staring down at her with a faint frown on his sweat-dampened brow. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?" she whispered, slipping her fingers up his spine to stroke the back of his neck, enjoying the soft prickle of wet hair she discovered there.
He shuddered, his eyes narrowing on her and his muscles tensing. "That," he growled through his teeth, his pelvis arching so she could feel the length of him hardening again inside her.
She gasped and tightened her trembling l
egs around him, her vision going hazy and her body pulsing with renewed desire.
He plucked her hand off the back of his neck and trapped it as he had the other one, his expression grim and determined. "No petting. I’m not done talking."
A spurt of humor curled the edges of her mouth even while her breathing accelerated. "A man who wants to talk instead. You’re a miracle all the way around," she murmured, watching the dark fire in his eyes through her lashes.
"Trust me, Keza mine, we’ll get there. Sooner than later, if you keep looking at me like that."
The hot, possessive silk of his voice and the hard throb of him inside her made her want to writhe under him like a cat in heat, but his hard expression kept her still. She tried to focus on what he’d been talking about, not an easy task when all she wanted to do was purr and stroke him until he stroked her back. Clearing her throat, she said, "Haze is a euphoric."
He shook his head, bending to brush his mouth against hers, leaving a tingling trail of heat. "Built up a tolerance. Doesn’t work on me anymore."
"The dress?"
"Your sisters wore the same. Didn’t want them." He repeated the kiss, lingering long enough to scatter her thoughts all to hell. "It’s you, and I’m damned if I know why." He lifted his mouth and looked down at her with such intensity that it stopped her breath. "Your mother said you brought me here to be your mate."
She reveled in the deep midnight of his eyes until she realized that he was waiting for a response. She sighed and tried to make her brain function. "You want me for here and now. That’s enough for me," she lied. But telling him the truth would be ridiculous. He was wild, strong, and beautiful in ways that made her throat ache with longing, but such a glorious male creature wouldn’t choose someone like her for a mate. He might want her now, but she was sure it wouldn’t last very long, certainly not the forever her heart wanted. He was too used to freedom.
A faint crease formed on his brow as if he wasn’t pleased with her reply. "I’m sorry," he said abruptly.
She blinked at him. "For what?"
"For being an asshole after the hearing." He made an impatient sound and shook his head. "For being an asshole since you got the band off me. I should have been on my knees thanking you. Nobody’s ever risked so much for me."
"You did the same for me," she said softly, her voice shivering a little at the look in his eyes. She didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling, but his intensely vivid gaze was making her quiver with need.
He made a derisive sound in the back of his throat. "I was already gone. I just didn’t want to take you down with me. You should’ve let me go. You put your whole life at risk—"
"And I would do it again. That band—it was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. It was like your soul had drained away." Tears stung her eyes and she bit her lower lip to stop them, taking a shuddering breath. "Chase, promise me when you leave you won’t get caught. Promise—"
He kissed her, hard and fast. "Stop shoving me out the damn door," he growled then kissed her again with a kind of slow, deliberate heat that told her he was done talking. She wanted to thank the Goddess once more, but she got distracted. Thoroughly.
When she came down from paradise again, she found herself draped over his prone body like a blanket, her cheek on his damp chest and his heart beating in her ear. The thunder of it slowed to a strong, measured beat that reassured and satisfied her at a very elemental level. Peaceful lethargy weighed her limbs and she found her eyelids drooping toward a doze. Reluctantly, she fought off sleepiness. "We should probably go up to the house before someone finds us like this."
He made a rumble deep in his chest like a big, lazy cat and Keza smiled, rubbing her cheek against him. He stroked a hand down her back and over her hip but didn’t move otherwise. "They can go to hell. We’re fine right here."
"That marble is hard. And cold."
"Stop complaining. You’re on top this time."
Keza sighed, eyelids drooping again, this time with erotic memories. On top was a very nice place to be. "I had no complaints, even when I was on the bottom. Just thought we should move to someplace a little less, ah…public."
"Nobody here but you, me, and the statue. She doesn’t look like she—" He stopped speaking abruptly, his body tensing under her.
With a spurt of alarm, Keza raised her head and looked at him. He was staring at the statue. "What?"
"How’d you do that?"
"Do what?"
He glanced at her swiftly before fixing his stare on the statue once more. "She doesn’t look like you anymore."
Keza felt a thrill that was deeper than physical, a jolt of energy that passed right through her soul and into eternity, like a goddess’s smile. "You really thought she looked like me?"
He shot her an impatient look then rolled them to a sitting position so he could look at the statue from another angle. He frowned. "Damned if I know how you people did it, but she had your face before. Now she doesn’t look like you at all."
When she didn’t respond, he glanced at her then did a double take, his face softening and mouth curving. Lifting his fingers, he traced the smile on her lips. Then he traced it with his tongue. "Sunshine," he said huskily.
"Chase," she sighed in response. "I have a very nice, soft, private bed in my room. Can we go use that now, please?"
Heat flared in his eyes, and she was rewarded with a slow, wickedly sexy smile that almost stopped her heart. "Keza mine, if we make it that far, it’ll be a miracle."
***********
Besides Rogue’s lascivious wink and wicked grin, the family was kind enough not to comment on what Keza and Chase had been doing for most of the day. Keza was amazed and gratified by their restraint, since it was more than obvious that the entire Marish clan had been informed. And if any of the clan hadn’t been told, the way Keza walked would have been a dead giveaway.
Her face blazed with a steady, permanent blush, but Chase had insisted on coming down for dinner. When Keza had pointed out her perfectly serviceable kitchenette, Chase had only lifted his eyebrows and reminded her that she couldn’t cook. When she’d suggested through clenched teeth that he might put forth some culinary effort, he claimed to be too weak from hunger.
So she’d hobbled out of her rooms and down to the courtyard with a red face, glaring at Chase the whole way. He had responded with a smirk and a solicitous arm around her waist. Of course, he looked perfectly fit and not the least bit sore or weary from their gymnastic sexual efforts.
"Creep," she muttered when they’d made their way to an empty bench and sat under a gently swinging lantern. She sat very gingerly.
"I’m a starving man, Sunshine. I barely had breakfast, and you’ve been working me hard all—"
She clapped a hand over his mouth with a furious squeak, glaring into the midnight sparkle of his eyes. Someone snickered further down the table, but she didn’t look to see who it was. "Not another word," she hissed, "or I swear you’ll regret it."
He took her hand away and leaned close to whisper in her ear, "I get hot when you’re angry."
She pulled back to give him a startled look then frowned. "Stop making fun of me."
He kissed her fingertips with the suggestion of a smile. "Don’t believe me?"
"Even if it was true," she said in a low voice, mindful of the crowd, "you couldn’t possible want to after all the times we’ve…"
He lifted his eyebrows, watching her with those dark, dark eyes, and slipped her hand under the table. Her jaw dropped with the hard proof in the palm of her hand. Then she leaned close and asked earnestly, "Are you even human?"
He laughed.
She watched him with a bemused smile, heart stuttering in her chest. She’d never seen him laugh before. It only added to his dark beauty, the white flash of his teeth and playful gleam of his ebony eyes tempering the dangerous edges of his face. It made her want to crawl onto his lap, wrap herself around him, and never let go. The deep rumble of his laughter rubbed ove
r her like a caress and she realized with amazement that if they were alone, she would do more than just crawl on his lap and to hell with being sore.
She also realized that her hand was still in his lap. Smiling sweetly, she curled her fingers around him and gave him a gentle squeeze. His final chuckle turned into a choked sound and he was quick to bring her hand back up to table level. "Still hungry?" she asked with as innocent a look as she could manage.
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