Captivated by the Gargoyle: Stone Sentries 3

by Lisa Carlisle

  Her breath hitched as she stared into his eyes. They’d taken on a deep, intense look, one that left her speechless. She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Do I feel like your man?”

  “Most definitely.” She couldn’t pull her eyes away. He had captivated her, as only he could. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, her lips parted. Then she froze in anticipation. What he could do to her with merely a glance.

  He pulled his hands from her lower back and caressed her cheek, the way he often did. She leaned into his palm. Something about his touch was so comforting — yet could also ignite a raging fire within her.

  “You’re the one, Larissa. You know that, right?”

  Many things about him remained a mystery. But, he had faith that they were meant for each other. Although their short time together had been rife with battles and death and danger, somehow it had helped tear through the veneer. When a person was challenged by a difficult situation, their true nature was revealed. Roman had risen to confront challenges and risk his life to save strangers, and she admired him all the more for it.

  “I do.”

  He lowered his head and leaned toward her. Her body thrummed with anticipation. Heat coiled through her, spreading through her core.

  When his lips finally touched hers, relief burst through her—and then renewed desire ignited. His kiss was gentle and patient. That was one of the many ways they were different—his endless patience. Yet, in his kiss, she understood the benefits of an unhurried pace. The slow seduction ignited sparks that moved through her like a low brush fire. It wasn’t the hurried foreplay she’d experienced in the past, a rushed preamble to move on to intercourse. His kiss wrapped her in an utterly sensuous experience full of heat. It stoked flames that seemed to have laid dormant until his touch sparked all her nerve endings to life.

  When she needed to break free to breathe, she murmured. “You make me feel so much.”

  He eyed her with a smoldering gaze. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “A good thing.” She quirked a brow. “A very good thing.”

  Roman bent down and captured her mouth again. He ran his arms down her sides, pulling her into a tight embrace. His lips caressed her jawline and then her neck. A flicker of guilt returned. How could she seek such decadent pleasure with all that was going on?

  But, would rejecting Roman make a difference in Janie’s situation? Hell no. It wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  “I’ve missed you, Larissa,” he said. “Although, we haven’t known each other long, I yearn for you when we’re apart. And we’ve been kept apart too often.”

  She gulped. His admission hit her square in the gut. Too many instances had separated them—including a horrible time she’d rather forget. The demon’s dark magic inside Janie had infected Larissa. She’d lashed out at him, uttering such horrible things. Only once when her senses had returned to her had she realized what she’d done—and regret had swamped her.

  Luckily, he’d understood what happened. Having encountered the dark magic himself, he understood the potent despair it could inflict. Yet, she’d hurt him, and she never wanted to do so again.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Roman,” she admitted.

  “I know it’s not under the ideal circumstances, but I’m happy you’re here with me.”

  For how long? After this short respite together, Roman would head back out. And God knew if or when he’d return.

  Roman’s time with Larissa could be cut short, so he damn well didn’t want to waste a second of it. One of his sentries could message him. The demon might be spotted with Janie. Or, another could attack again. Before he headed back out for another long night, he had to steal a few more moments with his mate.

  He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and pressed her against the unadorned gray wall of his chamber.

  Larissa sighed with contentment, dropping her head back and allowing him greater access to her satin throat. He ran his hand down her side as he kissed her neck, inhaling the vanilla aroma in her hair mixed with the herbal scent of her skin.

  She jerked her head up. “Should we be doing this?”

  “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” Although the beast in him wanted to toss her onto the bed and climb on top of her, he also wanted to savor this moment.

  “You know what I mean,” Larissa said in a breathy voice. “With Janie still out there.”

  “I’m going out soon. If anything happens, my Sentries will notify me.” He nuzzled her neck. “For now, my priority is watching over you. And, if I can bring you pleasure while doing so, that’s a plus.”

  She moaned in agreement and ran her fingers through his hair. “Oh, Roman.”

  “Let me love you one more time before I go out,” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she purred. “If anything happens to you, too…” Her voice softened with worry.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he reassured her. It wasn’t a statement he could back up. But, he couldn’t have his mate worrying while he headed back out again. She had such trouble with sleep and increasing her anxiety wouldn’t help matters.

  But, he could find a satisfying way to distract them both…

  Roman moved his hand up to her breasts and caressed the soft flesh. As he trailed his mouth down her collarbone and over the fabric covering her breasts, he growled. He pulled up her tank top and unhooked her bra. She helped him remove her clothing and then reached for his shirt. He pulled it over his head and embraced her again. Her bare breasts met his chest. He ran his fingers down the softness of her back as he kissed her with hunger.

  They should be able to spend time like this together every day—not in stolen moments. When gargoyles found their mates, they should have countless hours alone, allowing them to explore and learn about each other.

  He carried her the few feet over to the bed. When he placed her on it, she gazed at him under hooded lids.

  “You’re so beautiful, Larissa.”

  She reached out to him. “I need you.”

  Her words reflected his ardent desire. He climbed on top of her and kissed her all over. The supernatural threat they faced was a constant reminder to cherish any moment with his mate. Those unspoken words underscored all his kisses. His touches. His caresses.

  He nibbled at her and suckled her breasts. She let out soft moans as he continued to savor her flesh. When he reached below her belly button, he encountered the top of her shorts. He fumbled trying to take them off.

  “Let me remove them,” she said. She wiggled them down her legs, shedding her remaining clothing. She tugged at his waistband. “Now, your turn.”

  He removed his clothing as well. Finally, no physical obstacles separated them.

  She was a vision of seduction, a siren luring him into her arms. Her scent drove his beast to desperate heights. He wanted to claim her. Only Larissa had this potent effect on him. Only his mate could ignite his passion this way. Roman slid back over her and continued to explore every inch of her skin with his mouth and hands.

  When he circled her naval with his tongue, she squirmed.

  “That tickles.”

  He moved his lips farther down and kissed her inner thigh. “How about this?”

  She let out a breathless sigh. “That feels nice.”

  He moved up an inch higher. “And this.”

  “Mmm,” she murmured. “Yes.”

  He continued with the opposite thigh. Her muscles tightened and she panted, taut with anticipation. He was on edge as she was, but wanted to draw out the experience for them both.

  Finally, he couldn’t deny himself the taste of his mate any longer. He snaked his tongue along her slit. She let out a relieved moan and turned her head on the pillow. She tasted exquisite, as if her flavor was designed to please his palette. He couldn’t get enough of her. He doubted he ever would.

  She clutched at the sheets as she rose higher and higher and writhed on the bed beneath him. And then her muscles tightene
d, and she cried out, shattering for him.

  He lessened the pressure as the waves of her climax rushed through her. Then he pulled himself over her, rubbing his shaft at her wet entrance. As he slid in, she clutched him so tight, like she was marking him as hers. He already was. She was what he needed—the part of his soul he’d never known was missing.

  Would she ever feel the same way about him?

  Thoughts dimmed as he lost himself in the dizzying sensation of finally joining with her. His thrusts grew ever more urgent, and she lifted her hips to meet him. The stirrings of a climax rose, coiling with tension, and then exploded, hammering through him with intensity. Lights exploded behind his eyes. He growled out her name. Shit, nothing had ever felt like this. After knowing her for such a short time, he already needed her in his life.

  He lowered himself on top of Larissa, careful not to crush her. Their hearts pounded in a frantic rhythm as frenzied as their hitched breaths.

  He rolled to her side and held her in his arms for several minutes, reluctant to pull himself away from her. If something happened to her—if he failed her the way he’d failed to protect Janie, if the incubus somehow got to her…

  He’d spend the rest of his days hunting it down. And then he would wither. The loss of a gargoyle’s mate would be devastating. Whether she, as a human, would agonize, he didn’t know. She felt their connection, but was it the same? She’d already suffered too much heartache and death. He’d do whatever it took to make sure they both survived.

  He kissed the top of her head. “I need to head back out.”

  She peered at him and sighed. “I know. Be careful.”

  “I will. Get some sleep tonight. It’s been a long day. You need the rest.”

  “I’ll try.” She adjusted her position, allowing him to climb out of bed.

  “One of my sentries will be on watch here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  He dressed, resisting the yearning to touch her again. Maybe one day, somehow, she’d join him here. And they’d spend the time getting to know each other the way they should, rather than fighting an ongoing battle with a formidable opponent.

  Roman?

  It was Arto. He was awake.

  * * *

  Roman rushed to Arto’s room. When he found him sitting in bed, he asked, “How do you feel?”

  “Better now.” Arto rubbed his skull where his wound had been, with some blood still remaining in his hair. “What happened?”

  “A demon got to you and struck you from behind. The coward.”

  Arto furrowed his brows with a confused expression. “I don’t remember it. I was with Janie.” His eyes bulged with icy terror. “Janie!” He stood. “Where is she?”

  Roman suppressed a groan. With Arto’s reaction, this wasn’t going to be easy to reveal. He shook his head. “We’re all looking for her.”

  Arto clenched his hands into fists and paced. “It took her? That filthy creature took Janie?”

  His expression contorted with fury that Roman had never witnessed on his easygoing deputy. He nodded.

  “Fuck! I should have been more aware. I never should have let it sneak up on me!”

  “Stop it, Arto. Blaming yourself won’t change anything. Demons use darkness to their advantage.”

  “I need to find her, Roman.” Arto placed his hands on his temples and lowered his head. “I need to make this right.”

  “You will. We will,” Roman said. “You can replace Manny in Longwood. I was about to head there. Larissa is in my chamber and I won’t leave her unprotected.”

  “Will do, Commander.” Arto covered his heart in a gargoyle salute.

  Roman eyed him more keenly. Arto’s connection to Janie appeared stronger than merely a gargoyle’s compulsion to protect. “Is there something between you and Janie?”

  Arto exhaled and his shoulders sagged. “I think—I think she’s the one.”

  “The one?” Roman replied. “Meaning your mate?”

  Arto glanced at the floor and nodded.

  “You sure you’re not misinterpreting the signs? It might be an infatuation.”

  Arto rubbed his eyes. “I can’t explain it. It’s not simply a matter of admiring her from afar. It’s like a part of me knows something has been missing—a part I wasn’t aware existed—but now, it’s been found. My soul recognized our connection. And I’m in agony fearing that it might never be. We barely know each other. And she’s gone through so much…”

  Shit. The timing couldn’t be worse. What Arto described sounded like he’d discovered his mate.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” Arto fixed his stare on Roman. “She’s the one.”

  Roman put his hand on Arto’s shoulder. “I can’t answer that for you. When you know—you know.”

  When Roman realized Larissa was the one, it wasn’t presented to him like a piece of knowledge or fact printed on parchment, but it struck him with certainty. Something deep inside him just knew. He couldn’t explain it.

  Arto groaned. “Damn. That’s the problem. I know. And, I’ve failed in keeping her safe.”

  He looked so pain-stricken that Roman had to say something. He’d fought in countless altercations with Arto and had never seen him so shaken, not even after battling demons. That was the power of mates—a connection that went soul-deep.

  “We’ll find her.” He had to promise they’d do all they could. If Janie was Arto’s mate, he’d be in torment without her—and without even having the chance to be with her. It was too vicious. Too cruel. Roman would do all he could to save Janie. Her loss would destroy the two people closest to him.

  “We have to,” Arto insisted.

  “Of course. The universe wouldn’t reveal your mate to you just to torture you.”

  Hell, Roman was lucky in comparison although he’d had such limited time with Larissa.

  Arto groaned with skepticism. “Who knows how the fates work?”

  “Let’s see where they take us then.” He extended his arm toward the window in a motion for Arto to commence his search.

  Arto nodded in acknowledgment and headed out.

  Roman strode to the arsenal to assemble his weapons and considered the positions of his sentries. With Arto back in the game, Roman had to reassess who would cover which areas.

  A woman’s scream pierced the air, jolting him into action. Roman rushed down the hall.

  It was Larissa.

  Chapter 7

  A woman was screaming. It echoed in Larissa’s ear, exacerbating the pain in her head. Only then, did she realize the sound came from her.

  Pain pulsed through her skull as forcefully as if she’d been hit by a boulder. It came on so quickly and vibrated with an intense throbbing, like tendrils of torture connected to each nerve.

  She curled into a ball on Roman’s bed. She covered her temples, trying to soothe the chaos brewing within.

  “Larissa? Larissa, what’s wrong?”

  It was Roman, only it sounded like he was underwater.

  She couldn’t answer him, not with the pain consuming her. And if she nodded, it might radiate more waves of pain—a blowtorch blazing through her brain.

  Blackness drifted in from the corners of her eye, like a wispy veil draping over her.

  Shit, she was losing consciousness.

  “Listen to me, my love. We’ll get you through this.”

  She was barely aware of a hand running from her shoulder and down her arm. “Breathe, Larissa. Long, deep breaths.”

  On some level of consciousness, a part of her told her to listen to his voice.

  She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. It was too painful. Tears tore through from behind her squeezed eyelids.

  “You know what this means, Larissa. It’s only a vision.”

  Roman was speaking again. How could she focus with all the throbbing in her head holding her captive?

  “When you fight these visions, they fight back,” he added. “You might not even be conscious of doing it,
because you’ve been suppressing them your entire life, but I’ve seen you go through this before. Don’t fight it. Breathe.”

  She tried. Her breath came out in shallow pants.

  “Slower. Deeper,” he directed. “Let the vision come to you.”

  She tried again, slower and deeper as he said. The pain still radiated through her cranium, but a notch lower.

  “Let it come to you,” he said.

  Let it come to you.

  Wait, what the hell just happened? She wasn’t hearing his voice the same way. It was now in her head.

  They’d managed to communicate telepathically once before. When they’d tried after that, nothing had happened.

  Let it come to you.

  Yes, his voice was definitely in her head. Whether it was real or not, she didn’t know. But somehow hearing it calmed her.

  Okay, she replied.

  That’s my girl.

  Was it real?

  The vision wants to reveal itself to you. Open yourself to the possibility, and welcome it.

  His words were like a dream, a lighthouse guiding her while she was tossed on the rocky sea. Yes, she’d listen to him. He’d help her through this.

  Take deep breaths, my mate. I know you can do this now.

  She followed his instructions.

  Breathe in, breathe out.

  She could do that.

  Then repeat.

  Yes, that was easy enough.

  Simply breathe in and out, like Roman said.

  After repeating the mantra, a black and white vision that resembled TV static morphed. It dissipated, replaced by a gray object. What was it? Her vision panned back like a camera lens, and then she made it out—enormous wings.

  Was it a gargoyle?

  No. The gray wings colorized to the hue of burning embers. When it finally developed, she faced the telltale blood-red of a demon’s wings.

  Her heart rate stammered a jagged beat. Sweat beaded on her forehead. A desperate instinct to retreat weighed on her, but she couldn’t. Struggling against that urge, she forced herself to continue. She homed in on the scenery around the demon. Where the hell was it?