Grimm wanted this moment to be forever burned into her brain, seared into her memory like a brand. He would do everything in his power to make it so. If he had to shock her, so be it, she would love it. He knew what Raine liked more than she did.
He dropped to his knees in front of her and shoved her onto her back on the chair. He took her ankles and draped her legs over his shoulders. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her to him until her rear end dangled off the edge of the seat. He did this in one swift motion, too fast for her to even think of forming a noise with which to express any protestation. He didn’t give her a chance to waste either his time or hers with shyness—he spread her legs with his shoulders, knowing full well how much she admired the full breadth of him, and kept them spread by wedging himself there.
“Look at me.” He heard the ragged edge in his voice and didn’t care that she might hear it too. Let her hear. Maybe it would frighten her a little.
It frightened him.
She looked at him with wide, kaleidoscope eyes. Those eyes never failed to reach down into his soul and touch some wild, sleeping beast inside him. It woke him up. Made him more than just a simple Traveler. It made him feel like a god when she looked at him.
With her eyes on him, watching, Grimm licked his fingers and with them glistening wet, he used them to spread apart the lips of her pussy. She had the loveliest, pinkest cunt he’d ever seen. He could kiss her there forever and be sated. He licked the fingers of his other hand and thrust them deep into her sheath. The endless black portals of her irises bled out until her eyes were almost entirely black but for thin, cornflower-blue outlines—the blue of her eyes before she’d become this new creature. He loved that blue. It was his favorite color in all the worlds he’d ever visited—and he’d visited them all. It was waiting there for him to see every time they made love. A secret only he knew.
He pulled his fingers almost all the way out of her hot, tight body.
Her eyes narrowed. The pupils shrank, allowing a rainbow of colors to come swimming back in. Grimm thrust his fingers back into her pussy and sure enough, her pupils dilated, the colors fled and only blue remained. This was their own private magic, with no purpose but to heighten their lust. Grimm held her gaze and lowered his head, opening his mouth, extending his tongue toward her. Daring her to watch.
She did.
His tongue unerringly found her swollen flesh and lapped at the sweet fire of her need, drawing sonorous moans from her dewy lips. Raine possessed the most beautiful contralto voice, one that could sustain and hold a note for as long and steady as he desired to draw it forth. He slurped her clit between his lips, determined that this particular moan of hers would go on for a very long time. When he was done—much, much later—her clit was as red as a rose and her knees were unfurled on either side of him.
Raine’s legs were splayed, her pussy wet and plump, but he wanted more. He needed to hear her sing. He licked between her legs until she glistened, her honey raining down on his thrusting fingers until his entire hand was slick with her need. But he wanted more.
He added a third finger, thrusting hard, stretching her, adding his lips and tongue, sucking her sweet flesh until she was bucking her hips and riding his face with wanton abandon. Her head was thrown back and she could no longer meet his gaze but that was all right, because his gaze was focused on his hand stretching the delicate folds of her sheath. Her body tightened when he withdrew, it relaxed and welcomed him when he thrust inside.
It would be the same when his cock entered her.
A fourth finger joined the others. He tried to slow their pace, but Raine was as eager a lover as Grimm. Her body quivered like a reed in spring’s galloping wind. He kissed her again, much as he would have kissed her mouth, using his lips, tongue and—gently—his teeth. His breath came into play. It was a sensory experience, flavor, scent, texture, sight and color, he worshipped every last bit of her because he wanted her to feel as cherished as she deserved. When he was done, he wanted her to be bruised with love.
He made certain his free fingers were wet, slick and slippery, and he rubbed them over the rosebud of her anus. When she moaned a broken note, he felt his heart soar. His nipples tingled and his sac almost burst, sending his seed spilling out. If Grimm had been a lesser male he would have shot his pleasure all over her right then and there, but he was not a lesser male and he refrained. Instead he put more of his attention into his woman, tenderly stretching her sheath with his hand now almost fully inside her, his lips fastened to her plump little clit as if he were suckling on a secret nipple between her legs. He probed carefully at her ass and then slipped his finger into her, one knuckle deep only, just enough to send a thrill of excitement zinging through her entire body.
Her pussy clamped down on his hand like a trap. A dark, satisfied chuckle brewed to the surface of his mouth, and he let it vibrate from his lips into the receptive little button of her clit, knowing it would electrify her every nerve. He felt her climax begin first with his hand buried deep inside her, then through the trembling of the muscles in her ass, legs and then her entire body. He tasted it on the swell of her nub. Grimm fancied he could even smell her release in the rich scent of her spiritual essence, a heady mix of ginger, jasmine, vanilla and rose petals. It was a scent that had never failed to intoxicate him, from the very first moment they had met.
He watched her body quake with the paroxysms of ecstasy.
Raine, caught up in the maelstrom of passion, could have asked of him anything and everything and he would have done it without hesitation. He would have moved mountains. Destroyed worlds. Whatever she willed of him, Grimm would have done it a thousand times over for just a glimpse of this.
And Raine never knew, never suspected—or perhaps she never cared, because for her it was never about what she could gain from him—the power she could wield over him was that great. It was simply another fascinating aspect to her, another mystery Grimm gloried in.
Panting, weak and spent, Raine shivered despite the sheen of sweat coating her long limbs. Grimm lifted her effortlessly and sat her upon his shaft. Sliding into her was like coming home. She took him with a gasp, her sex a tight fit even after he’d taken care to stretch and relax her. He put his hands under her ass and shifted her weight, drawing another sharp breath from her parted lips.
Her eyelids were heavy, her face flushed and rosy. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh, but weakly, as if she didn’t have enough strength to hold very tight. He whipped his hair back and tilted his hips forward. Raine put her arms around his neck and held on. He walked them around the room, thrusting his hips with each step, wringing moans from her like trophies.
She was wet like melted cream around him. Tight like a hand, soft like a swath of fine silk, but as hot as if she’d been dancing in a pool of molten glass. Grimm believed that was exactly what she felt like—hot, molten glass, poured directly over the length of his swollen cock. Every time he moved, it was like rubbing himself across a sleek ridge of fire, just shy of painful, too pleasurable to be anything but erotic. Every time he entered her, he felt reborn. Every time he pulled away, it was a little bit like dying and he wasn’t sure he was going to make it back. But he did, over and over.
He pulled her tight to him, burying his face in the cascading, sun-bright waves of her hair. Her scent was the spice from the hallways of a thousand wet dreams. Her skin was like honeyed milk, the taste of her just as rich and sweet. He kissed his way to her mouth, letting her taste the remnants of her passion on his tongue. There were no secrets between them, no taboos. He was inside her where he belonged. A part of her, swimming beneath her heart, and he would always be there.
She tightened her legs around him and he cried out, losing himself. Clutching her. Raine was in his heart, in his head. She belonged there too. She undulated, rolling her hips, taking him into the depths of her like an ocean wave crashing over the shore, swallowing the edge of the land, carrying the sand back out to sea. She c
arried him back out with her. He surged into her, so hard he felt it in the back of his teeth, and then they were surfing.
Only it wasn’t water that surged under his feet. It was the ground. Raine sang out a triumphant cry, her body rippling around his, the ground rippling with her. Dust and rock rained down on their heads from up above. Glittering bits of quartz sand fell like snow. The ground heaved, moving in waves no different than that of an ocean, the waves breaking against the walls, sending the furnishings crashing in a cacophony of flying debris.
Grimm was powerless to stop it—any of it—the devastation of their room or the orgasm that jolted through him like a fiery sword. He was as powerless as land in the path of a tsunami. All he could do was hang on and ride the great and terrible wave. He gripped Raine and let his own pleasure soar, let his body bury itself in hers, allowed his mind to drift and let go of its worries.
This was bliss. This was happiness. He wanted it to last forever.
But the aftermath of a tsunami was devastation. And the aftermath was coming—there was no escaping it.
He could hear it rising up from the darkness.
He could feel it pulling at him from beyond this realm, tearing at this bliss, demanding payment for all this joy…
Gritting his teeth, Grimm forced himself away from that bleak thought and set himself back on the course he had set. For now, he opened his eyes and looked down at his woman. The floor had gone still under his feet again. Her eyes were wide, but there was no fear—that was good. She didn’t need to face the fear yet. It was too soon for that.
The fear, the aftermath, could come later. For both of them.
Chapter Fifteen
“What was that?” Raine slid down Grimm’s body, her knees shaking—not entirely because she’d just had yet another mind-blowing orgasm, but mostly. This man was going to be the death of her. She leaned against him and blushed when a gush of warmth trickled down her legs. Was that from him or from her? Probably both. His erection was just as enormous as ever. She tried not to look at him, really tried to look instead at the ruin of the room. Eventually she managed—for the most part—to focus on all the broken furniture and knickknacks.
He sighed and held her steady, his hands beneath her shoulders. “I think it’s time we address a few issues.” Grimm’s voice oozed resignation. His fingers were toying with one of her nipples—it was clear from his tone and his ministrations that he didn’t like the turn their sojourn had taken any more than she did.
She stepped away from him, testing her feet gingerly, glad when they held her steady. Raine squeezed her thighs tight, a deep throb of pleasure twisted in her center and all was right again in her world. Except, of course, for the shrapnel strewn all around the room. “Issues. Like what happened just now?”
“You happened.”
She gaped at him. “Me? What do you mean?” She scoffed, gesturing about them. “I didn’t do this.”
“You did.” Grimm picked up what might have been the leg to one of the chairs in the room—it was kindling now. “You didn’t mean to, of course you didn’t.” He pierced her with his gaze. “But you need to control it before it controls you, Nightingale. Now is the hardest time—you are stronger since awakening from this most recent memory collapse, but you are also more volatile and there are other forces at play. You cannot afford to make any mistakes. One misstep can spell disaster.”
Raine stammered for words. “H-how can I do that? I don’t even know that I’m doing anything.” As if to punctuate her words, half a dozen tiny pebbles chose that moment to rain down from the ceiling, the gemstones cheerfully pinging on the polished stone floor. “That wasn’t me,” she swiftly protested.
The look on his face told her that he believed otherwise, but he refrained from commenting.
“What do I do?”
“I had hoped you would remember, but things are happening quickly now and there is not enough time to wait.” Grimm frowned contemplatively. “Cinder.”
“What?”
“Not what, who. Cinder, he is our friend and Steffy’s mate—you would say he is her husband. He might be able to help.” Grimm took her hand and led her across the room, skirting them deftly around the worst of the wreckage. One brief moment and they were through the wall—Raine hardly noticed—and back in the bedroom.
Grimm crossed to a square trunk at the foot of his bed. It was a strange wood with tiger-striped grain stained a deep lapis blue. From the depths he procured a set of linen trousers and matching tunic for her in dark rose. She dressed hurriedly, sensing an urgency in him that set her nerves on alert.
She didn’t see him get dressed but when she looked at him Grimm had donned a pair of rust-colored pants in loose-fitted raw silk and a shirt with an open throat and long, wide sleeves in a neutral cream color that contrasted starkly against his dark skin.
Raine immediately missed seeing his naked body. But knowing Grimm didn’t wear any boxers or briefs under the roomy, thin pants was erotic enough to make her nipples hard under her tunic shirt.
She pulled her hair out from under the shirt, wincing at the awful state of it. Twisting it into a loose bun at her nape, she realized that was all she really knew to do with it besides comb it or put it up in a ponytail. She shrugged to herself—at least no one could ever call her vain.
Grimm came to her and smoothed an errant, wavy lock back away from her face and kissed the bridge of her nose. “Cinder is skilled in many schools of meditative practices. He has taught you techniques for centering yourself in dire situations before. Perhaps he will be able to help you again.”
He straightened, cocking his head to the side.
“What is it?”
Grimm’s mouth tightened. “Emily is coming. Damn, I wanted more time. I will leave you in her hands for now, Nightingale. I must leave you.” He kissed her hard on the mouth and disappeared.
Raine had maybe a full second to recover from his abrupt departure before her sister appeared behind her.
Emily’s arrival was completely silent, but Raine knew she was there. It seemed that the pressure in the room dropped, or the temperature changed. Maybe Raine smelled her. Or perhaps it was the voices in Raine’s head rising in volume that tipped her off. Whatever. Raine turned around and there she was.
Emily.
It didn’t matter that this meeting had happened before and Raine had forgotten. For Raine, this was the first time she’d seen her sister in years.
“Em-Em.” Raine sobbed and threw herself into Emily’s arms. Emily was a good ten inches shorter than she, but she had always been the solid foundation holding their ragged family together. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“S’okay.” Emily stroked her hair. “I’m here now. How are you feeling?”
“Confused,” she choked. “What the eff is going on?”
Emily laughed and untangled herself from Raine’s grasp. “I’m glad Mom washed your mouth out with soap when you were a kid, brat. It’s always so fucking funny to hear a grown woman talk like that.”
“Shut up,” Raine sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “At least I don’t sound like a sewer rat.”
“True. I would never mix well in polite society, but what the hell can you do?” She offered a wry smile. “So.”
Raine shrugged. “So.”
“I felt that earthquake a quarter of a mile away from here. What’s the deal with that?”
“Um…” She held her hands out helplessly. “I don’t know, but Cinder might be able to help.” Her voice broke.
“Yeah, he’s helped you before.” Emily reached out and smoothed her fingers over the faint scars on Raine’s forehead. “You remember anything yet?”
“Um, quite a bit.” She nodded. “I know this isn’t the first time I’ve forgotten things. Grimm didn’t tell me why though—”
“Uh-huh. Grimm, eh?” Emily’s features twisted into an inscrutable mask and for the first time, Raine noticed her sister had eyes very like The Traveler’s. “You really don�
�t remember enough yet. What are we gonna do with you, sis?”
“Oh my gosh, your eyes are just like his!”
Emily shook her head, a little sadly it seemed, and turned to stare off into a far corner of the room. “Hardly,” she scoffed, pacing. “They’re mostly black now, but the longer I’m a Traveler and the more I cross between realms, the more they’ll fill with lights from other universes bleeding through.” Her voice turned wistful. “Grimm told me that one day my eyes would be so bright from all the universes I’d see that it would be hard for people to meet my gaze.”
Emily turned and met Raine’s gaze now—it was indeed only just intermittently dotted with starlight, while Grimm’s swam with stars. “Each light is a crack into another universe. A doorway I’ve opened by Traveling. It’s the cost of having our Caste, of doing what we do all the time.” She sighed heavily. “Apparently there are other risks, but Grimm wouldn’t tell me what they are, said I wouldn’t run into those dangers so I didn’t need to worry about them. Cryptic ass.”
“Yeah, he can be like that.”
Emily’s mouth tightened. “About the earthquake. It was a doozy. That’s a first, even for you. Wanna tell me what was going through your head when that happened?”
Raine blushed. Nothing had been going through her head. What had been going through her body, however, was a different matter entirely and not one she wanted to discuss with her older sister. “I don’t remember.”
Emily nodded, accepting her excuse.
Raine had to caution herself against overusing the old “I don’t remember” excuse. It was nice to get off the hook so easily, it really was. She was more used to arguing with Emily this far into most conversations. Then again, that was years ago. “Grimm told me that Cinder might help,” she repeated.
Emily pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay. Uh-huh. We need to do something—you absolutely have to put a lid on that, like, now. You probably scared the shit out of half the city.”
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