Below the Surface

by Marie Harte

  His eyes grew steadily darker, and the room seemed to cloud, a cooling mist that both refreshed and made them slick against one another. He was rock hard against her cheek, and without another word, she engulfed him entirely.

  He stilled, his body clenched tight, and when she took him in the back of her throat, working him with the passion she felt for release, she watched him uncoil, sliding into desire as hot, sexy words streamed from his mouth.

  He began murmuring in that lyrical language she found so compelling. Again the word ‘affai’ sounded, but she was too caught up to press him on the issue.

  “I’m going to come in your mouth, love,” he groaned and pumped, his cock so thick and hard it was a wonder he hadn’t already. “Swallow me, Tessa. Take all of me,” he said thickly as he shoved one last time through her lips.

  Like a waterfall, he gushed down her throat, his hot seed like sweet cream as it cascaded past her lips. He held her head firm, still conscious to protect even as his body and mind rocketed to another plane altogether.

  Giving him such pleasure, she couldn’t help feeling aroused and amazed at his constraint. When he’d brought her to climax, she’d been unable to think of anything but him and the pleasure. Yet he had the presence of mind to be gentle with her.

  When he had thrust one last time, she swallowed the last bit of his essence and gradually released him, one glorious inch at a time.

  His breathing heavy, he just stood there and gathered her to him. “Sertia, what you do to me,” he said and kissed her full on the mouth.

  He must have tasted himself for he groaned again. “You are so giving,” he murmured and pushed her back to the bed. “Now it’s my turn.”

  With every stroke of his hands and tongue, he brought her to peak but not quite over.

  Her nipples grew hard and swollen as he nipped and sucked, teasing and tasting, until she wanted to cry for him to end it. And his hands. They flowed over her like water, until she understood he was using something more than the physical to bring her to ecstasy.

  She watched through slitted eyes as his fingers parted her netherlips and entered her slick core, while a shimmer in the air caressed her arms, her shoulders, her thighs.

  She saw nothing out of place but felt surrounded by his liquid heat, by the emotion he didn’t speak of that embraced her the more they touched.

  “Please, Marcus.” She gasped as his mouth trailed the path his hands had taken, settling over her mound as he parted her folds and licked long and hard. His tongue pressed over her clitoris and she arched into him, unable to stop herself.

  “That’s it, love, come all over me. I want to feel you shoot over my tongue,” he crooned and closed his mouth over her very centre.

  “Marcus,” she cried as her world burst into a million fragments, like rings of pleasure flowing out from her core.

  “Yes,” he groaned as he lapped her arousal, licking and sucking. “You make me so hard.”

  Still enthralled in the rapture of his touch, she wasn’t prepared when he gathered himself over her and thrust deeply between her thighs.

  The feel of him, so hot and pulsing within her, pushed her into another orgasm, so incredibly unexpected she felt almost faint.

  He shot into her as her walls closed on him, their wet release mingling into an ocean of pleasure. “Take it,” he moaned as his seed continued to shoot. “Tessa, yes.” He pumped until he was dry, loving her body into exhaustion.

  When she could catch her breath, she looked up into his face, so unguarded and true. And something within her clicked into place.

  “Marcus.” She didn’t know what else to say, how to explain to him all she felt for a man she had only really just met.

  “I know,” he said tiredly and leant down to kiss her softly. He withdrew from her body and pulled her into his arms, his voice husky with sleep. “We’ll talk later, love. Everything can keep. Just…later.”

  She nodded, feeling tired as well. Stroking his hair and pulling him closer, she gave way to the exhaustion pulling her under.

  * * * *

  Marcus lay back and crossed his arms behind his head, glad for the shady rilk trees protecting him from the sun. He stirred his fingers and cooling waters soothed his heated frame, a body still recuperating from Tessa’s extraordinary lovemaking.

  “She’s special, that one,” King Faustus said from his left.

  Startled, Marcus glanced over to see his father clad in a towel and nothing else, lying on a cushion of Tanselm’s thick grass as he gazed at the Quaren river beside his son.

  “Do you have to be here, now?” Marcus asked, too sated to behave properly. In life he’d rarely talked to his father so, but Tessa had completely scrambled his brain. Besides, it was his dream, wasn’t it? Time to regain control of his subconscious.

  “Now hold on a minute,” Faustus said hurriedly as an image of a very aroused and naked Tessa shimmered beside Marcus. “Let’s have a little talk before your af—friend returns.”

  Marcus shrugged, and the image of Tessa faded. Why not? He could use the rest. Damned if Tessa hadn’t exhausted him. He could feel his toes tingling. His toes. He smiled and closed his eyes.

  “Go ahead, Father. Say what you have to say. Nothing can ruin this moment.” He sighed in pleasure.

  He heard his father chuckle and smiled. “She’s good for you, Marcus. You need to relax. About damned time.”

  A ruffle of air soothed the two and a splash sounded.

  Marcus opened his eyes to see his father playing in the river. He stared in surprise. “I don’t recall you ever acting so carefree before.”

  Faustus grinned, his face and form so youthful it took Marcus a moment to recall his father had indeed passed into the Light. “You were always so wrapped up in the rules you missed a lot of the fun in being a prince.” A huge wave crashed over Marcus, leaving him drenched and curiously lighthearted as he watched his father splashing around.

  “Your mother,” Faustus paused and his eyes twinkled, “that woman could get me to do anything she pleased. Had me wrapped around her little finger.”

  Marcus nodded, happy memories chasing the sadness of his father’s passing.

  “She always made me see the other side of things, brought me back when anger overcame good sense, pushed me to act when I felt indecisive.”

  Marcus blinked. “Indecisive? Angry? You were perfect, Father, the epitome of the Storm Lords at their very best.” And the standard by which Marcus lived his life.

  “No, son. You see through the eyes of a child.” Faustus shook his head, a spray of water refreshing nearby dragonflies. “You spent much of your boyhood with me, too much, I think. Even Aerolus lost himself in the woods rather than sit inside a stuffy court hall during penitence day. But not you.”

  “I had to watch and learn,” Marcus defended himself. “So much to learn before training began.”

  “You always were too serious. Now Cadmus, that boy has a sense of humour.”

  Marcus rolled his eyes and watched as a screaming eagle captured a struggling eel from the water. “Cadmus is an idiot.”

  “But a funny idiot.”

  Marcus couldn’t help the smile curling his lips. “True. Maybe you should be having this father/son talk with Aerolus. He’s the one with all the serious issues lately.” He flicked a hand and watched as a mini-whirlpool tried to suck his father closer. “I’m fine.”

  Faustus’ grey eyes sparkled as he pushed the water away with a sweep of wind. The whirlpool died, and he left the river, beads of moisture wicked away by the gentle air he commanded to dry himself.

  He sat again next to Marcus, a casual purple tunic and trousers suddenly appearing over his frame. “You always seemed the most competent of your brothers,” Faustus said slowly, his tone warning Marcus to pay attention.

  Sitting up off the grass, he turned to face his father, watching the sun play over his beloved face.

  “Yet your mother would constantly remind me to watch out for you, that be
yond your arrogance lay a well of insecurity.” His narrowed gaze burned a hole through Marcus’ defences.

  “Come on, Father,” he tried to joke the matter aside. “I am the River Prince,” he said haughtily, his conceit eerily mirroring that of his father’s. “The wells of Tanselm shimmer at my call.”

  “You command water. But you cannot command your heart. It commands you.” He gave his son a sly smile and shook his head. “She won’t let you rule her, Marcus. But she’ll let you rule by her.” Laughing silver eyes hardened into molten steel, and the jovial man who was his father became the stern taskmaster of the Western Kingdom once more. “And until you learn to temper your unfounded need for perfection, you will fall short when it comes to guarding that which you hold most dear.”

  Marcus felt his entire being flinch, yet showed no outward reaction to his father’s words but a slight nod.

  Faustus shook his head, frustrated, and Marcus wished he knew what to say to ease his father’s burden. “Heed my words, Marcus. The river flows and bends, it does not break. But pride is like ice and cannot pass obstructions, rather it shatters when it meets resistance.”

  Marcus’ head began to ache. “Allegories and riddles, Father? You used to speak plainly.” When you were alive. The thought sobered him.

  Faustus laughed. “Don’t I know it. Irritating as hell, eh? Sorry, but that’s the price I pay for crossing the Light to see you. Just make sure to believe in your heart, in yourself, and all will be well.”

  The sun brightened and Marcus had to shield his eyes not to be blinded.

  “I guess my time’s up,” Faustus murmured and stood, casting a large shadow by Marcus’ feet. “Remember, son, the surest way to a woman’s heart is truth, and the surest way to your truth is a woman’s heart.” He chuckled. “Make sure you tell that to Aerolus when his time comes. He’s become too much of a know-it-all under Arim’s influence.”

  Marcus tried to see his father’s expression but couldn’t look at more than his father’s shadow, which lengthened under the brightness growing above them.

  “I’m sorry to say this is the last I’ll be seeing you for a long time, Son.” Faustus blew a breath of wind over Marcus, drying him off, and in that breath was a reminder of the deep love his father felt for him.

  “Remember, you are as you believe.” Faustus paused and his shadow flickered. “Tell Cadmus to look at his dreams, and Aerolus to study the spaces between,” he said quickly. “He’ll know what I mean.” His shadow vanished, then reappeared, a faint smudge upon the grass. “Damn it, see here?” he growled. “I barely said anything and I’ve said too much. Hell, just tell Arim she’s waiting—”

  The light flashed, bursting like an explosion and the shock of power shook Marcus awake. He blinked and tried to make sense of his body’s odd state of awareness. Something tickled his legs, then between them, massaging his cock into a restless, aroused twitch.

  “Wake up, Marcus,” Tessa teased and kissed her way up his body, throwing his dream into another corner of his mind altogether. Trying to catch his breath, he groaned her name as she slithered on top of him, lost in the heat and feel of her, his father’s words a distant memory.

  Chapter Eight

  While Tessa let the warmth of the shower soothe her, she tried to reconcile her unbelievable actions with the woman she used to be.

  She knew Marcus Storm’s body more intimately than she’d known any man’s. And the things he’d made her feel…she shuddered, glad she was alone where she could deal with all that had happened over the past weekend.

  The water sluiced over her body, taking with it her aches and pains from the sexual acrobatics she’d engaged in throughout the night.

  Marcus would be lucky to stay awake through this morning’s meeting.

  She frowned, wishing she’d gone with him. But they’d both agreed last night that she should stay here where it was safe, both from a wraith attack and from the nameless threat at work, at least until Marcus could gauge what the office was like today.

  She didn’t fear the Netharat, oddly enough. The attack still seemed like a dream, one she had pushed to the far corner of her mind. Besides which, she’d found a surprising range of control over her newfound telepathy, and Marcus had cast some spell over her, with the help of Aerolus, to protect her from ‘otherworldly’ harm.

  No, she dreaded the legal ramifications of her manufactured guilt in this world. Embezzlement, fraud—what exactly would she be charged with, and how had whoever was doing this set her up?

  Finishing the shower that no longer felt relaxing the more she dwelled on her career, she changed into a pair of jeans and the loose sweatshirt she’d packed and retrieved late last night from her home. She’d been tempted to try teleporting there, but one glance from Marcus had her rethinking the idea.

  Come to think of it, he’d never apologised or explained for being such a jerk, she thought, recalling his obnoxious attitude after she’d teleported yesterday. She’d been too occupied with his body last night, and Arim’s surprise visit had distracted her when she’d been good and mad at Cool Blue.

  She grinned at the nickname, now so unsuitable to the insatiable sex addict she’d created in the new and improved Marcus Storm. He said he couldn’t get enough of her, and the way he touched her and reacted to her touch, she believed him.

  She almost thought to let his crabbiness go, but she found his reaction strange and out-of-place considering how friendly they’d been before she’d attempted to teleport. Had Marcus been jealous of his brother? Had he been worried about her? The latter thought continually resurfaced whenever she thought of his attitude, and she felt she deserved an explanation.

  Throwing on her socks, she made her way downstairs, aware she had a whole ‘sick day’ to do nothing but relax. How oddly exhilarating.

  Her body still hummed with the incredible pleasure Marcus had shown her, and she meandered into the kitchen on a cloud of satisfaction.

  “Well, well, good to see you up and about,” Cadmus said with a knowing grin.

  She couldn’t help blushing and shook her head when he laughed out loud. “You’re bad,” she rebuked, which only earned her another laugh.

  “I was about to say the same of you. Keeping poor Marcus up all night. You’d think he’d be pleasant this morning, but he nearly bit my head off before he took off out the door.”

  “I’m sure you did nothing to aggravate him.” She rolled her eyes at his innocent expression, and had to admit she liked Cadmus more than she’d thought she would.

  “You really are a pain. A lot like my brother Tom.”

  “Thank you.” He gave her a princely bow and she studied him over her coffee cup.

  “So what’s it like being royalty?”

  “You don’t seem impressed,” he said casually and joined her at the kitchen table.

  She shrugged. “I’m not. Though the parallel world thing threw me for a loop.”

  “It threw us, too, believe me. One minute we’re arguing with Arim while the Netharat are attacking the castle walls, the next a pack of wild wolves are growling down at us in the middle of an unknown forest.”

  “Really?” She leaned closer to him, subtly aware he possessed a unique energy all his own, one curiously heavier and, well, earthier than Marcus’, but no less powerful.

  He nodded. “That was a year ago. Well, only a few weeks ago by Tanselm’s time.”

  “Would you describe it to me?” At his confusion, she elaborated. “Tanselm? I’d love to see what it looks like through your eyes.”

  He studied her thoughtfully and smiled. “I think Marcus would much rather I didn’t. Ask him and he’ll show you.”

  She took a sip of coffee, slightly disappointed and more than a little curious. “Okay.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to show you.” Cadmus looked earnest as he tried to explain, for which Tessa gave him points. “It’s just that Marcus is a little tough when it comes to you.”

  She frowned. “How
so?”

  Cadmus opened his mouth and closed it, then mumbled under his breath.

  “What?”

  “Look, don’t tell Marcus I said this, but he can be a little over the top at times.”

  “You mean his arrogance?” She knew that all too well, but it masked another man, the real Marcus Storm she’d seen all too briefly yesterday.

  “No. That arrogance is a part of him, what makes him Marcus. I’m talking about that scary part of him you haven’t seen.” He spoke in a low voice, as if afraid of being overheard.

  Her pulse hammered. “Oh?”

  “Marcus holds things in, and then when you’re least expecting it, bam! He knocks you between the eyes.” Her own eyes widened. Had she been so preoccupied with Marcus’ body she’d missed a violent, dangerous side of him? “The last time I borrowed his car and forgot to fill the tank, he waited an entire month before flooding my car, to the top.” He frowned when she laughed. “Tessa, I was in it at the time and late for a date.”

  “Please. If you’d done that to me, I’d have filled your tank with sugar.” He looked horrified and she grinned. “Well, maybe nothing that drastic. But you should have seen the stuff I tried to pull on my brother when we were growing up. His second sight made it really hard to get one over on him. So when I did, it was a usually a doozy of a prank.”

  He studied her curiously. “You have a close family, don’t you?”

  “Yes. My parents are dead, but my brother and I have always been close and then there are plenty of aunts, uncles and cousins floating here and there.” She smiled. “It’s nice that only Tom lives close, but that the others are a drive or phone call away.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly, a faraway look in his eyes. “You’re lucky to have them near.”

  “I’m sorry, Cadmus.” She touched his hand lying on the table. “That was insensitive of me. You miss your home.” Curiosity got the better of her. “So when do you return? Your brother, Darius, right? He’s there now, isn’t he?”