TravelersKiss

by Sherri L. King

  Raine frowned but did as he instructed without argument, holding his fingers tightly. She refused to let go of him even for a second. He led her through a wall, into the next room, which was dark upon their entering, but after a whispered command from Grimm, a thousand candles lit into being.

  It was the room he’d brought her to that first night after she’d awakened, what now seemed like ages ago—the room of a thousand flickering flames.

  He pulled her before him and placed his hands on her hips. He lifted her and sat her gently on a slab, resting his hands beside her on either side. He leaned into her, his scent enveloping. “Do you remember this room?”

  “How could I forget it?” Raine reached out and touched the side of his face, his skin glowed gold from the blazing light, but his eyes reflected nothing except alien constellations she would never visit. “It’s the most spectacular place I’ve ever been.”

  “I told you it was a room in progress. Do you remember that also?”

  Raine sensed urgency behind his question. “Yes, I remember.” She blushed. “You suggested I might like to have a hand in completing it—I thought you were going to ask me to move in with you or something. How could I have guessed we were already together?”

  His smile was bittersweet and fleeting. “I had meant this project to be a surprise, but then there was the battle. I held some hope that if I brought you here it would spark a memory in you.” He shrugged. “But something—someone else sparked it instead.”

  Raine frowned.

  Grimm closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Raine put her hands on his shoulders. He was trembling with some pent-up emotion.

  “Grimm?”

  “Damn him.” His voice was trembling with rage.

  Raine started. “What? Damn him, who? I don’t under—”

  “Daemon. This is all his fault—everything—from beginning to end, the blame lies upon him.” He opened his eyes and Raine was startled to see explosions of light so bright they overtook the black. Her senses were on full alert now, her head filled with static. Grimm had never looked more dangerous. Or felt so dangerous—the muscles beneath her hands had turned hard as stone.

  His cloak rippled wildly about him.

  “He sparked the memory in you, when I could not.”

  “What memory?” Her voice came out weak as a frayed thread, more air than fabric. Her heart beat a prestissimo tempo until the sound of her blood crashed in her ears.

  “The most important memory of all.”

  Raine swallowed, tears cold on her lashes. “That you died.”

  “No.” He gave a mirthless chuckle. He sobered and took another deep breath. “Ah, Nightingale. I asked you if you wanted a hand in helping me finish this room. Look around you. It was to be a nursery.”

  Raine caught her breath, not daring to move. She saw the room with new eyes, noticing now the small details in the construction of the chamber that were perhaps fashioned with specific purposes in mind. Here was where a cradle might go. There was a space for a nursing chair or rocker. A changing table would fit nicely off to the side…there would be a door that linked it to the master bedroom, which was why the wall’s façade had not been smoothed on the corresponding side.

  He had known she was pregnant…

  Grimm leaned forward and put his forehead against hers. “Did you really think you could keep it a secret from me?”

  Well, yeah, duh. Of course she had.

  “Raine, I know your body as well as you know it yourself. Perhaps better in some ways.” He reached out and untied the laces at her throat that gathered the neck of her tunic shirt. He put his hand in the gaping fabric and palmed her breast. “I noticed the swelling of your breasts before you did.” He gently squeezed the hard kernel of her nipple, tugging on it until it was long and thick. “I saw the subtle changes of color in your nipples.”

  Raine was shivering uncontrollably. She’d lost the ability to speak. All she could do now was listen to his words. Feel his masterful touch on her body.

  Grimm helped her pull her shirt up and over her head. Her hair spilled free down her shoulders and back like a wavy prism of captured sunlight. He palmed both of her breasts and kissed her mouth, letting her taste his tongue before he kneeled in front of her and took her nipple in his mouth and suckled it hard between his lips. She moaned and gripped his head, arching into him wantonly.

  He released the dusky-rose berry he’d made of her nipple with a juicy popping sound that bounced off the glittering walls. “I tasted the exotic adjunct to your already sweet flavor as your body ripened when my seed took root in your womb.”

  He plumped both breasts in front of his face and breathed deeply. “The floral bouquet of you that had always enthralled me has taken on new and subtle balminess. The hint of jasmine in your kiss has matured to an exotic note of night jasmine that makes me undisciplined and wild every time our lips touch. The delicious vanilla between your legs bloomed to a headier, Tahitian vanilla and every time you are wet for me, I grow drunk on the fragrance and taste of your quim.

  “The spicy ginger undertones that often trailed after you as you entered or exited a room had transformed into sweeter juniper that make me want to stalk you everywhere you go. The rose petals that scented your skin with an innocent softness are now stronger, more womanly in their denser rose-attar form—I cannot bear other warriors sniffing after you and it has taken all my self-control not to keep you under lock and key, just to keep your scent all to myself.”

  Grimm licked the line of her décolletage, all the way up her throat to her mouth, where he kissed her deeply. He squeezed her breasts, played with her nipples and massaged them until she was writhing against him, her legs spread on the slab with him still kneeling between them, but not touching her where she ached to be touched most.

  He pulled back and kissed her on each nipple. “Oh yes, Nightingale. I suspected early on. But when you suddenly called for a meeting of our team and a call to action against the Leviathan, I knew it for certain. I knew you would do anything to protect our child—and that meant destroying the one creature that could do it harm, the Leviathan you had so often feared.”

  He pressed a lingering kiss over her beating heart. “Why did you not tell me?” he murmured against her skin. “I would have given anything to hear the words spill from your lips.”

  Raine stroked his hair. “Because I was afraid.” Tears gave her voice a sharp edge.

  “Afraid?” He looked at her with dismay. “Ah, I see,” he said with sudden understanding. “You were scared that I would ban you from fighting for our child’s safety?”

  Raine nodded, realizing now just how foolish she had been not to trust him.

  “Never,” he said, taking her face in his hands. “Never. You are every bit my equal, Raine. I would worry for your safety—I did worry—but I would never stand in the way of my woman and the vengeance she deserves. Nor would I stand between any woman and the safety of her child. It would be dishonorable of me as a warrior, as a male, and as one who loves you.”

  Raine sobbed and gathered him to her, tangling him in her arms and legs, holding him tight. She untangled him in something else as well. Something that had been there, something she’d sensed from the start but had not understood until now. But it was all so clear to her now.

  Their bond was already so complex, it didn’t need bolstering by any transparent psychic cord, but it had been there, hiding, tangled and weak, but there all along. Grimm hadn’t known it was there, any more than she had known, of that much she was certain. And while he didn’t realize it, he had just given Raine all the permission she needed to do what had to be done in order to keep her child safe and to ensure that she did indeed get her vengeance. He had given her permission to solidify their bond.

  Eager to distract him in case he should sense something amiss—he was far too observant, her Traveler—she started pushing at his clothes, disrobing him with trembling fingers and eager hands. His cloak slithered to the ground,
moving with eerie sluggishness.

  Grimm got caught up in some of her urgency and tugged at Raine’s trousers, his hands working them down before he tossed them to the floor. The flames danced dangerously in their nooks but neither of them cared. Raine pushed his trousers down, marveling at his lean hips and the well-defined loin muscles that led her gaze to his pubis, before his jutting erection made it too difficult for her to remove his pants and he had to take over the chore himself.

  When he sprang free and the candlelight kissed his amazing phallus, Raine gasped and her legs fell open reflexively in what might have been—in different circumstances—too eager, too quickly, but time was against them and Raine felt it bearing down. She did not fight her voluptuous nature, merely relaxed into it, letting her legs spread wantonly.

  Grimm’s dark chuckle made her blush but she didn’t care. He was just too magnificent—her body could only act on instinct and she could only be herself with him.

  “Let me see you touch yourself, Nightingale.” His voice was almost completely a breath, it was so husky. He was not the stoic he might have liked to appear. He was just as turned-on by her naked, candlelit body as she was by his. “Stretch your thighs open wider and touch yourself,” he instructed. “Show me how ready you are. Let me see if you glisten with dew. Touch yourself as you would have me touch you.”

  Cheese and rice.

  Of course. Raine remembered now. Grimm very much enjoyed watching. Not as much as he enjoyed touching, but it heightened his arousal when she brought herself to peak before he penetrated her, and she knew it would help loosen up the muscles in her sheath and allow for a deeper penetration, thus granting him greater pleasure. Her senses reeled. Watching Grimm watch her was almost as erotic as being touched by him.

  Well, not even half as erotic, but it was perhaps as erotic as being fully pleasured by a lesser male.

  Grimm. Was. Sex.

  There was no other way to say it.

  Raine’s insides melted like honey in a lush hive. She spread her legs wider, as he’d instructed, and was thrilled to see his eyes zero in on her sex, the lids growing heavy as he licked his lips and waited to see what she would do next.

  Grimm could make any woman feel like the most beautiful, powerful goddess in all creation with a glance like that. And he chose to look at her.

  Raine leaned back on the slab as if it were a luxurious mattress, her feet up on the edge, her knees bent and open as far as gravity would take them. The air tickled her swollen labia, making her very aware just how exposed she was to his gaze, which missed nothing. She was panting with anticipation and excitement, her breath loud in the bright room, her heart pounding out a tribal rhythm in her chest that she felt certain he could hear.

  He met her gaze, stars exploding in his eyes. “What are you waiting for?” His rich voice made the room close in on them, made her diaphragm contract. Every utterance in that sexy baritone made her sheath pulse. Grimm could very likely make her come just by talking to her.

  Raine reached down between her legs and Grimm’s gaze followed every movement. She felt his stare as intense as a touch, as hot as a kiss, and when she touched the wet, throbbing center of her own body, Raine watched Grimm as Grimm watched Raine.

  It was ardently sensual, the most sexually charged moment of her life.

  Raine took a breath.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Her fingers slipped in the overabundance of her own slick arousal and the unexpectedly naughty sensation made her moan. Over her cry, she almost missed hearing Grimm’s sharp intake of breath. Jutting her hips forward, she used her free hand to spread the full, lush labial lips of her quim to give him a better view of the rosy flesh that lay hidden like a treasure beneath it.

  She was clean-shaven, which relieved her since she had always been fastidious about keeping herself comfortable there before. Obviously time had not changed those habits and right now it made this kind of sex play easier and more fun. Nothing impeded the show, so to speak.

  At first she teased them both, using only her middle finger to run a line up and down her sleek, glistening flesh, from her clit to the entrance of her sheath and back. It drove her crazy not to move faster, not to use more pressure and more fingers. From the tightening of Grimm’s hands squeezing the fleshy parts of her inner thighs tighter and tighter, it frustrated him just as much. Her hips arched higher, seeking more, needing more.

  She could feel his hot breath on her. His mouth was so close.

  Raine sat up a little so that she could see him better. She scooted her rump dangerously closer to the edge. She rubbed her fingers over her clit—back and forth, up and down—beginning a sinuous dance with her hips to match her clitoral stimulation. Soon her entire body was undulating, moving on instinct, and short, breathy moans were falling like petals from her lips.

  Grimm’s gaze never left her body, roving from the fingers working the folds of her sex to the flexing muscles of her thighs and calves. He admired the rounded mound of her stomach and the flush fullness of her breasts, topped with the cherries of her nipples. His breathing was as erratic and heavy as hers. He dropped one hand away from her thigh and took his hard member in a strong, firm grip.

  Raine watched him, thankful that even kneeling he still managed to be taller than most men. It made watching him easier too, and watching him made her body flood with pleasure so that soon her liquid desire was running freely over her fingers, making her sex and anus glisten, even smearing out onto the tender flesh of her inner thighs as her fingers grew clumsy, frantic, moving faster toward completion.

  She couldn’t help it—he drove her wild.

  Grimm pumped his hips gracefully, squeezing the base of his cock as far around as his fingers would reach. Raine glanced through her lashes, gasped at the raw, majestic power of his erection and started to climax immediately. Desperate to fill the empty void in her pussy, she shoved two fingers inside herself, grinding the heel of her hand against her clit, but Grimm would have none of that.

  If he couldn’t be inside her when Raine came this last time together, he seemed determined that nothing else could either.

  He jerked her wrist, pulling her fingers free, interrupting her climax. Raine roared—a lioness denied her treat. Grimm’s lips curled in a dark smile that promised fulfillment as recompense.

  He delivered on that promise.

  Grimm bent his head between her thighs and extended his tongue. He waited, demanding that she watch him. Her body was shaking so hard it was a wonder she didn’t vibrate off the slab and onto the floor, but Raine opened her eyes wide and kept them on him. She watched his every move obediently, mesmerized. When he seemed certain that he had her full attention, Grimm lengthened his tongue so that it was long, wide and flat.

  Raine almost fainted as a rush of excitement overtook her.

  He used the flat of his tongue to lap a leisurely trail from the portal of her vagina all the way to the swollen nub of her clit, sipping her honey behind his upper lip. At the hood that covered her clit, he lingered, taking his time to worship her most voluptuously sensitive area. Keeping his tongue stiff, he moved his head in an up-and-down motion, pressing against her firmly but gently, so that his tongue rasped over her tender flesh again and again until her rich, creamy desire flowed freely between her legs, getting on his lips and chin, soaking them both.

  Grimm released his grip on his cock and used his hands to spread her folds, to get at the deepest heart of her sex with his fingertips. He fluttered those fingertips back and forth, around and around, just as his tongue flicked up and down until Raine was completely lost, crying out over and over again for mercy.

  Grimm gave none. He was merciless.

  He drew her clitoral hood into his mouth and suckled it like he might her nipple, rooting into her, sucking harder and harder, until Raine was again poised to explode. But just when she would have tripped over the edge, he released her with a juicy snap and a tiny nip of his teeth to resume licking the entire length of
her cunt up and down with the flat of his tongue.

  Raine wanted to scream. Instead she pulled his hair sharply. She felt the vibrations of his amusement tickle her swollen tissues but he didn’t stop. He continued to make love to her with his devilish tongue. He zeroed in on her throbbing clit until she was writhing, then backed off, licking her pussy all over, then returned to her nub again as if he wanted to drive her insane with lust. But he never paid too much attention to any one specific are of her pussy—as if he knew just when to back off before the sensation of pleasure might become pain, or when it would become too much and push her into ecstasy.

  It wasn’t fair. He played her body like a virtuoso at the piano. He knew exactly which keys would make her sing the best notes, when to press them and how long to hold them before letting go.

  His hands rose up and took her breasts, squeezing them roughly, pinching her nipples between his knuckles. Raine’s fingers were tangled in the cool satin of his hair, holding on as if it were the reins on some wild horse or other beast and she was attempting to mount it. His hair was loose and all over her legs, touching her skin in a thousand different places, whispering over her flesh like cool, teasing fingers. Grimm’s mouth closed over the entirety of her sex and his tongue thrust into her sheath. Now Raine moved her hips up and down over his face—Grimm no longer needed to move at all—she was riding his tongue shamelessly. The wild horse analogy was not too far off the mark it seemed.

  His masterful fingers pulled her nipples, tugged hard and then released, making her yelp. The pain was a spark to her pleasure and she bucked against his mouth. He shook his head back and forth, fast, sucking her ruthlessly. His tongue fluttered inside her and she began to climax again.

  Immediately Grimm withdrew from her and gently slapped her pussy twice, interrupting her orgasm. Raine screamed like a banshee. “You asshole!”

  He laughed. “Language, Nightingale,” he tskd. He leaned back, licked his lips and wiped his chin on his hand. He held her gaze and licked his hand lewdly, wringing a gasp from her lips. “Mmm. Sweet as nectar.” His voice was the growl of a panther.