Mystical Seduction

by Dorothy McFalls

  She closed her eyes and turned her head away. She held her breath, waiting for him to cut her, to hurt her. “No.”

  But instead of pain, she felt the bonds holding her left wrist fall away.

  She opened her eyes as he cut through the rope and freed her right wrist.

  “It was either free you or cut your clothes from your body,” he explained as he freed her ankles. He took a moment and rubbed her raw skin before straddling her again. “And I like how this tunic top shows off your curves. It’d be a crime to destroy it.”

  She squirmed as he stripped the top off over her head.

  His hand brushed the bare skin on her belly. With just that touch, she parted her thighs. Had he used his mind games to make her do that, or had she acted on her own desires?

  She didn’t know.

  It was the not knowing that both terrified and thrilled her. Her heart beat wildly. Her thoughts spun out of control. She knew what was going to happen in this room...with him. He planned to make love to her.

  And then what? Would he then kill her with his ceremonial knife?

  Why shouldn’t he want to get one last joy ride and mark her again as his before he did the deed?

  “You’re a monster, a non-human, mind-controlling monster,” she growled as she stripped off his clothes. And then she worked on sliding her own pants down over her hips.

  “And yet you still want me,” he countered before claiming her lips.

  Damn him. He was right. She wanted him. Had always wanted him. They were meant to be together. Dammit, despite everything, she loved him. With a shout of frustration, she tore away from his kisses and dug her teeth into his forearm, drawing blood.

  Her act of rebellion only seemed to feed his lust. His eyes glittered. He grabbed her wrists and pressed her to the bed.

  “You are my queen,” he forced the words on her. She had no choice but to believe him. His arousal felt hot against her slick opening. “You are mine.”

  He entered her fast and hard, pinning her to the bed. The magical glow that had encased her body sparked and flared each time he pressed into her. She was just getting used to his fast rhythm when he pulled out.

  “I will give you the third mark, unless you want me to stop. Do you want me to stop?”

  Although she might be a slave to his desires, she felt the power he held over her pull away. He was giving her the choice. She could tell him to stop.

  Tears filled her eyes. Did she want to be with him? Did she want her life to be forever linked with his?

  Did she want him?

  Unable to trust her voice, she nodded. Her heart ached for him. They needed each other. Even before he’d started playing those mind games on her, she knew they were meant to be together.

  The palm of his hand glowed red. “This will sting. I’m not sure why I know that, I just do. It’ll sting,” Horace warned. But before touching her with his hand, he entered her again and started moving in and out of her body. Her muscles ached and strained from the building orgasm.

  She cried out her pleasure. She belonged with him...to him.

  In that golden moment, they truly were one.

  His midnight blue eyes trapped her gaze. “You will come for me.” His voice vibrated with power.

  “Yesss...” she moaned as her entire body pulsed. Her nerves danced and sang. Even the tips of her fingers felt tingly and happy as she throbbed at his command.

  He grabbed hold of her upper arms. His glowing hand seared her skin. Pain tangled with pleasure, getting Faith all mixed up. She couldn’t tell where one sensation started and the other one stopped.

  “Come for me again,” he whispered.

  She hadn’t finished riding the first wave when the second orgasm hit her with the force of a speeding train. Her hips rose off the bed to let him drive deep, deeper than she’d ever taken a man. The room spun end over end. Overwhelmed, she cried out again.

  And still, the orgasm rocked her.

  Sparks lit the room and bounced against her skin with stinging electric barbs. Until this moment, she’d never felt so alive. So full. Or so loved.

  Horace’s eyes grew dark, nearly pitch black as he continued to make love to her. Faster and faster. On shuddering breath, he shouted her name and spilled his hot seed into her womb.

  ****

  She couldn’t move. Horace had collapsed on top of her. His weight should have felt crushing. Oddly, the warm pressure of him lying on top of her was comforting, like being tucked under a favorite blanket.

  “My God,” she managed to whisper once she caught her breath.

  “No kidding.” His hoarse voice tickled her ear. She would spend her life with this man. Perhaps, in time, he would even learn to love her.

  As the pleasure humming through her body calmed and her heart rate slowed, the throbbing pain where he’d marked her became more prominent. She rolled Horace aside and sat up, hugging her arm to her chest.

  “Did you burn my arm off?” she asked.

  He peeled her fingers from where she held the stinging flesh. His lips parted slightly when he saw what he’d done.

  “What?” she asked and peered at the mark.

  A lioness, very similar to the primitive lion tattoo on Horace’s arm had been blazed into her upper arm. The skin around the blackened outline of a lioness appeared red and puckered.

  “We’re joined,” he said. A sense of awe softened his voice. “Are you sorry?”

  She didn’t know how to answer him. He’d left the ceremonial knife on the bed, and the power he’d unleashed—his power—still beat wildly inside her.

  “It hurts,” she said, rubbing her arm.

  He feathered his lips across the burn and it cooled almost instantly.

  She let out the breath she was holding. “I’m marked with the lioness and you’re marked with the lion. You’re the one always running from me. Do you regret it?”

  The dark look he gave her shivered through her body. “I’ve never owned anything so precious in my life, my love.”

  “If I’m your queen, that would make you my—”

  “No!” he said before she could finish that thought. “No, that doesn’t make me anything.”

  She ran her finger along the razor-sharp edge of the knife lying in the bed with them. She couldn’t seem to take her mind off it or why he’d brought it into the bedroom with him in the first place. She recognized it as a knife used in sacrifices. The carvings on the handle suggested that it had been crafted for human sacrifices.

  A lingering spark shimmered in the air like a dying star and reminded her of the danger she posed. To him. To herself. And to the rest of the world.

  “How do you plan to stop this power that’s boiling inside of me? How will you stop me from accidentally hurting someone? I blew up that monster who was trying to hurt us. I don’t know how or why. What if I get upset and blow up someone I love? Someone innocent?”

  Instead of answering, he twined his fingers with hers and told her to close her eyes.

  She wouldn’t.

  She couldn’t.

  Why should she close her eyes?

  This was it. Even after what they’d shared together, he still planned to kill her. She had seen it coming, but still, realizing that this was how things would end between them burned a deep hole in her heart.

  “There are less final ways to sever our relationship, you know,” she said, with a nervous laugh.

  “Shhh...” He pressed a kiss against her mouth. The rough pads of his fingers gently drew her eyelids closed. “Listen.”

  The sound of blood roared through her ears. She held her breath, waiting...expecting to feel the sting of his blade at any moment.

  Would it be a quick death? Would he know how to do that? Or would she linger for an hour or more, suffering?

  “Your pulse is jumping faster than a nervous rabbit’s.” He caressed the length of her neck. “Relax.”

  “Why?” She opened her eyes. “Will it make it easier for you to kill me?�
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  “Kill you?”

  Her gaze fell to the knife inches from her head and even closer to his hand.

  “I needed something to cut the ropes,” he explained.

  “Don’t lie to me. You came in here prepared to kill me with that knife. I’ve seen others like it. It’s a death knife.”

  “Not today it isn’t,” he said.

  “But what about this out of control power inside me?”

  “That’s why I want you to listen.”

  Faith huffed, a frustrated breath. But she did as he’d asked. She drew several deep breaths and closed her eyes, listening.

  The power. It still spiraled restlessly within her body, but it no longer clawed at her insides desperate to rip its way out. Something had soothed it.

  “I’m acting as your anchor,” Horace explained. “At least, that’s what I think is happening.”

  “Wow,” Faith mouthed. She sat up and looked into his dresser mirror. Her skin no longer glowed. “Talk about an ego boost. You’re that good. Not only did you...did you...rock my world, you also managed to silence the storm that threatened to tear apart the threads of the universe.”

  A quick smile jerked up the corners of his mouth. He leaned over and tasted her lips, sending her mind spinning again.

  “Contact,” he said. “Intimate contact seems to be important.”

  She eased back on her elbows. “I have this feverish power living inside me and you’re my bottle of aspirin, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And how many times a day do we...?” A blush crept up her neck.

  “I don’t know. But until we figure out the details about keeping your power...um...my power in check, you’ll need to stick close to me.” He trailed his finger down her chest and over a nipple. A tingly golden glow just under her skin followed. He eased himself over her, planting himself between her slightly sore legs. “We’ll be doing a lot of this,” he warned between kisses.

  “Hmm...” She couldn’t seem to think straight when he was touching her. But she needed to tell him something. If only—

  “I still don’t like you,” she said just as he slipped his hand between her legs.

  “Uh...huh...” He sounded as foggy as she felt. “You don’t need to like me. But I promise, you’re going to love this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next few days flew by. Horace appeared determined to keep Faith tied to the bed, not with chaffing ropes, but by tempting her growing sexual hungers.

  The bedroom above the café, where she had later discovered she’d been taken, had all the comforts she could ever ask for—a luxurious bathroom with a shower large enough for two, a comfortable bed with lavish red silk sheets, and enough pillows to make a sultan envious.

  Yet even ultimate bliss could be exhausting after a time, especially considering how fully she’d put her heart and soul into her frequent and often creative encounters with Horace. And when he wasn’t making love to her, he spent his energies kissing her, spooning with her, caressing her, or slipping delicacies from Jake’s kitchen into her mouth. It was wonderful.

  It was heavenly.

  Still, she wanted more.

  Besides talking briefly with Horace about what the marks on her body might mean—a discussion that had led nowhere—they had not discussed anything. For all she knew, Horace still was planning to try and wiggle out of their relationship. What that would do to her physically and emotionally, she didn’t dare speculate. While she was with him, she hadn’t sparked, or glowed or threatened the stability of the universe. Not even once.

  But while she was physically safe, her mental state felt as if it was teetering on a very high edge. She’d fallen completely under Horace’s spell. All he had to do was crook his finger, and she was ready for him. One heated glance and her body became his for the taking.

  What would he do if she tried to thwart the power he held over her? The thought terrified her.

  Even more frightening than that was the realization that not once during their past few days together had she considered disagreeing with him. Not even once. How very unlike her to be so easy-going.

  It had to be because he could control her thoughts. And if they had any hope of making this relationship work, they needed to proceed on an equal footing.

  She would not be his mindless, naked sex slave salivating for his touch with every throbbing beat of her overheated heart.

  At least, not forever.

  Even if the hard planes of his chest were so well-formed and delectable.

  She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and nibbled on his neck, teasing him with the metal stud piercing her tongue. He moaned lightly.

  “You can’t be ready again,” he murmured.

  But she was. And soon, he was too.

  This was how it went for a few more days, until the important thought she’d been trying to catch onto finally worked its way up through the sex-induced haze.

  They needed to have a serious discussion.

  She slid her hand to her belly. “We’ve not been using protection,” she said, wondering if his child was growing inside her already. Wondering how it could not be. “If we’re going to continue like this, we probably should start thinking about the future.”

  She swallowed deeply. She expected him to push her away or reject what she was about to say. All the same, she had to speak her mind. She wasn’t one to let life come at her as it may.

  She swallowed again, building her courage. It was time she took back control. “We really should talk about marriage.”

  “Hmmm...” He nuzzled her neck.

  “What? You’re not going to try and weasel your way out of it? You’re not going to give me a hundred or so reasons why we shouldn’t be together?” She propped herself up on her elbow so she could try and decipher what he was thinking.

  He didn’t look as if he wanted to run away from her or from their relationship.

  “Who are you and what have you done with Horace?” she asked.

  He smiled and, with feather-light kisses, he worked his way down her neck to her left breast. He licked the mark he’d made there. Her skin tingled and sent a ripple of desire through her body.

  Hmmm...

  The way he touched her made her wonder why she didn’t light up in a burst of flames. She felt close to panting by the time he swirled his tongue over her pebbled nipple. Maybe she could put off this discussion for a little while longer.

  “Ah...um...” She pushed his head away. “Stop that, I need to think.”

  “Hmmm...” He’d started kissing her thigh now.

  She tried to roll away, but he grabbed her hip. “Thinking is overrated,” he grumbled.

  “Speak for yourself.” He pushed her legs apart and buried his head between her thighs. “You’re... you’re... you’re... hmmm...”

  No, no, no. She would not give into him. This was important. Now, what was she going to talk to him about?

  “M-m-marriage,” she said on a shuddering breath.

  He muttered a reply. The sound of his voice vibrated against her tender opening. She gripped the sheets and arched her back. A few minutes later, and at his insistence, a vibrant orgasm shuddered through her body. Her head fell back on the silk pillow as her limp body sank heavily into the thick feather mattress.

  He lifted his head and smiled wickedly at her. As lithe as a serpent, he eased his body up along her side until he stretched out against her length. Still grinning, he brushed aside a strand of her hair that had curled across her nose.

  “Marriage?” he asked.

  She nodded. He’d stripped her ability to speak with that magical tongue of his.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s what your parents and friends will all be expecting.”

  He sounded so reasonable, so accommodating. This out-of-character behavior of his naturally piqued her suspicious mind.

  He chuckled lightly. “Don’t glare at me so. You’ll hurt your eyes.”


  “You’re being too agreeable. It makes me nervous,” Faith told him, which made Horace laugh in earnest.

  “We’re already bound together for all eternity. So why am I going to object to making it official in the eyes of the law?”

  She touched her flat belly. Perhaps they could be married before she started to show.

  “About that,” he said, suddenly serious again. He closed his hand over hers. “I’m sterile.”

  “No, that can’t be right.”

  Not that she believed in a sixth sense or anything. But she felt fairly certain that his seed was more than potent enough to fill her womb with life.

  “All of the Protectors are sterile.”

  She shook her head. “But—but—what about Dallas?”

  “She’s sterile, too. Not that Dallas had been pleased to learn about it. Brendan had left out that little detail when they were dating. She didn’t find out until after their marriage. She still insists that there has to be a way around it. But I doubt she’s going to succeed where centuries of Protectors have failed.”

  “But-but I’m human.” Faith knew she was grasping at straws. But dammit, he was wrong. What she felt in her heart had to be true. They were going to have children together.

  And soon.

  “I’m not human. I’m sorry, Faith. I couldn’t get you pregnant even if I wanted to.”

  “I was hoping for children,” she said while fighting off a dizzying wave of confusion. What he said couldn’t be true. “You had told me that I could have a whole brood if I wanted.”

  ****

  He faintly remembered telling her that. And it hadn’t been a lie. Not precisely. At the time, he hadn’t expected they’d have a relationship. But now they were in one and tied together with a bond more permanent than the vows of matrimony.

  She stroked the primitive mark of the lion on his arm. It shimmered and glowed. Only she could make the tattoo light up like that. It made him smile.

  “I suppose we could always adopt,” she said with a wistful sigh. He could picture it now. She’d be wearing an apron and have a couple of tots underfoot. And they’d move into a tidy cottage with a white picket fence and a large friendly dog to lick them when they returned home. If it made Faith happy, he supposed he could suffer through such a domestic lifestyle.