by Hall, Linsey
A curse broke free of her lips as she tried to catch the shower curtain and scrabbled for purchase. The curtain rod snapped, clanged like falling steel pipes, and her curse bounced off the walls of the small bathroom.
Damn. She’d probably alerted the cavalry.
She swore again as Cadan burst through the door and caught sight of her sprawled on the ground. She clutched the towel to her chest; it barely covered the essentials.
He strode toward her, concern in his dark eyes, and swept her up.
She gasped as he pressed her against the wall, his strong hands gripping her upper arms gently. The heat and roughness of his palms burned into her skin, and she thought inanely of the towel that threatened to slip off. Her sanity wavered under the intensity of his gaze. She barely knew him, but her body didn’t agree with that sentiment.
“Are you all right, lassie?” His voice was rough with worry, his dark brows drawn over eyes that burned with some intense, unrecognizable emotion. Anger, lust, something else? Whatever it was made it almost impossible to drag air into her failing lungs.
Kiss me. Rational Diana slipped to the back of her brain. She raised her hand to his chest, biting her lip when the muscles tightened beneath her palm.
“Diana,” Cadan whispered roughly, emotion in his voice that she couldn’t recognize. Maybe he couldn’t either.
He cupped the back of her head with a callused palm, lifting her face to his. She pushed futilely against his chest. No, I shouldn’t want this.
But she couldn’t make herself speak the words. Didn’t want to speak the words.
He drew her to him, her token resistance a fly that he swatted away. His eyes darkened, a storm within them, and he glared at her before crushing his mouth to hers.
A moan escaped her as she felt his mouth close warm and firm over hers. She struggled to resist, but when his tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, she parted them, eager for the heat of his invasion.
His tongue stroked hers, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure through her body straight to her pussy.
“Ah, lassie, you taste sweet,” he murmured against her lips.
She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking her hands into his hair. Her movement caused him to groan, a dark sound of delight that made her shiver. Encouraged, she bit his lower lip, laving it with her tongue as she held it fast.
He gripped her hair with his fist, tilting her head for better access, and wrapped one strong arm around her waist to yank her against him. The move pulled her up against his chest until she could feel the ridges of muscle in sharp definition. He took control again with his mouth and his hands. The things he could do with his tongue made her shiver and the strength left her legs.
Finally. She was darkly thrilled to have her hands on such a magnificent male. She’d wanted this for so long, but had never found anyone who made her feel anything more than vague apathy. But he, stranger though he might be, felt like what she’d been waiting for.
Running her hands down his strong neck, she tentatively began to explore the muscular contours of his shoulders and chest. How could he possibly be built like this? It wasn’t natural. Normal humans didn’t have such a perfect combination of muscle and lean strength. Her hand inched toward the hem of his shirt, intent upon feeling the heat of his skin against her flesh.
Cadan shuddered. “That’s it, love.”
He trailed his lips lightly across her cheek to her throat. She gasped as she felt his warm mouth close over the sensitive spot at the curve between her shoulder and neck. Heat shot through her veins, and she felt a throbbing deep in her center.
She cried out softly as his teeth sank lightly into her flesh, careful not to break the skin. It felt like a lightning bolt joined the spot with her clitoris, and she arched into him.
“You like that, do you?” His voice rumbled in her ear, and she shuddered. How had he found that spot so quickly? She didn’t even know she had it. But now that she did, she didn’t want him to ever stop kissing and biting.
He didn’t seem to want to stop either. She could feel his strong arm supporting her back and the erection bulging against her stomach and wondered what it would be like to reach between them to cradle him in her palm. She licked her lips and ran her hands over the muscles beneath his shirt at his lower back instead, too shy to touch what she was really interested in.
The hand that fisted her hair shifted and moved south, squeezing her hip briefly before running down her thigh. He gripped her leg and hoisted it up next to his hip. The movement almost put her core level with his shaft and she wriggled, not caring that she was whimpering in his ear.
She felt aching and empty and she wanted to ride the bulge of his cock.
Please, she almost whispered, but the words wouldn’t come. She was losing her mind, every second that she was trapped between him and the wall turning her into a mass of feelings and need with no coherent thought. She felt helpless, a bird trapped in a cage of pleasure.
Fight it, something in her whispered, you barely know him.
“No,” she said, almost too softly to hear. Or was she telling herself no? Because part of her didn’t believe her own protests.
He began to slide his hand along her thigh toward the hem of the towel. A little farther. Grip my ass and sink your fingertips into me. Touch me. The thought was insane, she barely knew him, and he was breaking her resistance the way cannon fire destroyed a sail.
She was losing control—and she hated losing control.
“Stop it,” she said, this time more firmly. She fought for the strength to stop, desperately, but it was like walking through quicksand. With more regret than she’d ever felt for anything, she reached down and stilled his hand. “I mean it.”
He shook his head as if to clear it, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving, then set her down gently and pushed himself away from her. She sagged against the wall.
He shoved a hand through his hair, frustration radiating from his tense muscles. “Damn, I’m sorry. I’m your guardian. That was bloody inappropriate. Against the rules. It canna happen again.”
Bloody inappropriate? Diana flinched.
With the harsh tone lingering on the air, he spun on his heel and left the bathroom. The door slammed behind him.
CHAPTER TEN
Shite. Cadan leaned back against the wall next to the bathroom door and squeezed his eyes shut. What had he just done? When he’d heard the crash, he’d rushed in, thinking that someone had gotten in through the window. Instead, Diana had been clinging to the side of the bathtub, damp hair slicked back from her delicate features. Her full bottom lip had trembled, and her vulnerability had roused a fierce, protective instinct.
Helping her to her feet had been the right thing to do. But from there.... The feel of her under his hands had been like a drug.
At the first of her welcoming responses, his control had begun to slip. He’d ignored the voice that told him to let her go. Becoming lost in her again would only compromise his ability to defend her. Even worse, sex could lead to the return of her memory. He’d told her it was inappropriate and against the rules. It was a lie, but he’d needed to say something.
Any voice of reason had been silenced as soon as he’d heard her desperate cries. The feel of her trembling, and then arching into him, had clouded his brain. Her surprised gasp when he’d bit her shoulder had made his cock throb, desperate to be free of its confines.
Had it ever been like that with Boudica? He’d wanted her, aye. It had been good between them, but fraught with a struggle for dominance and a desire to bury the darkness of their lives.
It had been nothing like it had been with Diana in the bathroom. That had been nothing but passion. Brain-clouding passion. He had to stay away from her, but the idea of never touching her supple skin again, never feeling her move beneath his hands, made him ache with loss.
He forced himself to walk away. He’d already spent too much time standing outside of doors thinking about
her. He had to keep his mind off her and focus on the threats circling in the shadows.
Cadan crossed the room to the wing chair in the corner and scrubbed a hand across his face as he tried to ignore the sound of her moving about the bathroom. Instead he forced his mind to turn to more productive thoughts.
Why was she here? When he’d lost her the first time, he’d thought she was gone forever. Before they’d left the university, Warren had told him about a vision Aerten had seen—an ancient scourge returned. But whom? And to what end?
The door to the bathroom creaked open. He tensed.
Diana stepped through, shrouded head to toe in gray silk pajamas. His jaw clenched. He had a feeling that she considered the sleeping attire conservative.
His body said differently. The soft fabric clung to her curves and drifted over her hollows in a way that hid nothing and emphasized everything. The feel of her under his hands rushed to the front of his mind. What wouldn’t he give to run his hands over her silk-clad form, molding them to every inch of her body. He’d slowly push the silk up her stomach, exposing the soft skin beneath to his lips and tongue.
He realized that she was staring at him expectantly, so he cleared his throat as he stood up. She looked away as soon as he met her eyes. How long had he been distracted, staring at her like she was a piece of steak and he a starving man?
“The bed is yours,” he said. “I’m going to shower.”
As much as he ached to feel her soft form against him again, he wouldn’t rest until she was safely at his home.
“What about sleeping?”
“Damn it, Diana.” Just her presence was stringing him tighter than a wire. “Doona worry about me. Until you’re safe, I won’t be sleeping.”
She huffed, then stalked toward the bed. He didn’t look at her as he walked into the bathroom.
He flipped the water on. Lying in the same bed or not, he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to keep his hands off her. He prayed she wasn’t one of those active sleepers. The sound of sheets on her soft skin....
Cadan stepped under the spray, intending to turn it down to cold. It wouldn’t work. A shower in the Arctic wouldn’t get rid of his raging hard-on. He sighed, and tilting his face up into the spray, letting the water pound down over him.
The soap was slick in his hands as he lathered up and attempted to remain detached as he ran his hands over his body, washing away the sweat of the day. The sweat caused by rubbing against Diana.
Unbidden, images began to flash across his mind. Diana, sprawled naked in a bed, her honey-red hair tousled and her white flesh gleaming. He tried to resist, but eventually gave in to the fantasy, and his hand drifted to his cock as he imagined her turning her head and looking at him expectantly.
Please, she said. I need you. Fuck me, Cadan. Her lips parted as she breathed heavily, slipping a small hand down her stomach to the glistening pink between her thighs.
He knew what she wanted, what she was desperate for. He could almost feel her need on the air. The scent of it made his mouth water. She bit her lip and looked at him with eyes full of need, desire, and...love.
He tore his mind from that thought and turned it toward the baser elements of the fantasy.
Dream Diana said, Please, Cadan, I need to feel you inside me.
He fisted his cock, the flesh warm and hard beneath his hand, and wished it were Diana stroking him. Diana on her knees before him, his cock disappearing between her plump lips.
Dream Diana licked her lips and undulated her hips as she languorously stroked her pussy. He strode over to her and she looked up at him expectantly, her eyes full of need.
In the fantasy, he dropped to his knees on the floor beside her, his only thought that he wanted to taste her. The idea of her sweetness on his tongue made him bite back a groan. She cried out in thwarted desire, but he reached over and yanked her toward the edge of the bed.
Spreading her thighs, he draped them over his shoulders. His hands gripped the supple flesh of her ass, and she cried out as he lifted her to his mouth. He thrust his tongue between the glistening folds. Her sweetness drenched him. Delicious. He began to lave her clitoris.
Diana cried out and sank her hands into his hair. A groan tore from his throat as she squeezed, pressing his face tighter to her and clenching her thighs around his head. The taste of her was exquisite, and when she began to writhe against his mouth, he gently eased a finger inside her. Her wet heat gripped him, muscles clenching down as her orgasm began to wash over her.
Cadan savored the feeling of her legs quivering on his shoulders, her hands fisted in his hair as she pressed herself to him. He thrust another finger inside, curling them up to stroke the sensitive spot that would ensure she soaked his tongue with her release, and he felt her muscles contract harder. She screamed, a sound of passion that made him grip his shaft hard.
As his dream Diana drenched his tongue with her orgasm, he felt the pressure in his balls and shaft increase unbearably. He couldn’t suppress a groan, and stroked his cock faster.
His knees weakened and he had to prop an arm on the wall next to the tub. He bit his lip as the orgasm crashed over him, stifling a shout. The pleasure made him blind, the image of Diana arching her body while his tongue was inside her the only thing he could see in his mind.
He shuddered as the sensation and the image drifted away, leaving him out of breath.
Lonely.
Breathing heavily, he turned into the spray and rinsed himself clean. Damn it. He punched the wall in frustration, then cursed at the pain. That was the best orgasm he’d had in centuries, and he’d only been dreaming about her.
Gods damn it. He didn’t have the will to last an entire night in the same room with her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Diana would never fall asleep as long as Cadan was naked only a few yards away. She couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. It had been amazing, mind-blowing, out of this world. All the way up to the point where he’d pulled a one-eighty and stormed out. He’d mentioned the importance of rules to Mytheans, and it made sense that following a strict code was the only way to ensure their survival. And technically, he was on the job. And that job was to protect her from demons. She really didn’t want him to fail at that. But still, it sucked.
The sound of a low groan carried through the door and she twitched. Had he slipped? She started to get out of bed to see if he needed help, but paused when another groan sounded. This one did not sound like an exclamation of pain. Heat crept into her cheeks.
She slipped back under the covers as silently as she could and closed her eyes. It would be best to look like she was asleep when he came out. She couldn’t hear any more noises, but the silence only egged on her imagination.
Was he really masturbating in the shower? She remembered the hard bulge of his erection pressing against her. Yep, he was definitely relieving some pressure. The idea of him naked under the spray of water made her clench the sheets in her hands. What did he look like? Was he tan or pale? Which hand was he using? Both? Did he stroke quickly or slowly? Roughly or gently?
Was he thinking about her? She felt a coil of heat between her legs, reminding her of being pressed against the wall by Cadan’s hard body.
She began to glide her hand down her stomach to the sensitive flesh between her thighs. Her skin was soft under her fingertips, and in just a few short minutes the dreadful pressure and want would be gone. She’d become quite proficient over the years.
The sound of the shower turning off had her cursing softly and withdrawing her hand. He would be out any minute, and there was no time for her to take the edge off like he had. Maybe it had been a bad idea to stop him earlier.
She’d only lain there a moment when the bathroom door creaked open. Too curious to resist, she lifted one eyelash infinitesimally. Cadan walked out of the darkened bathroom, rubbing a towel against his hair.
She swallowed hard. He was dressed only in tight, black boxer briefs. The snug cotton concealed
nothing, and his semi-erect shaft still pushed against the fabric. She dragged her gaze away from the enticing sight, taking in the rigid muscles of his abdomen and the broad planes of his pectoral muscles. He had those muscles along the sides of his stomach, the ones that led down his pelvis like an arrow. This way, they said.
The arm holding the towel flexed, showing off a bicep that could surely lift her off the ground. She pursed her lips. She wouldn’t make a peep.
But it was close. Her eyes were drawn back down, and after one wistful glance at his tight briefs, she took in strong, bulging thighs and sculpted calves. He looked like a damn Calvin Klein underwear model, but with a man’s muscles from work rather than built in the gym.
She’d clearly lost her mind. Of all the thoughts she should be occupying her brain with right now, that wasn’t one of them.
Moonlight filtering in through lace curtains highlighted the muscles of his back, which were sculpted like those of a Greek statue. She’d never been particularly interested in Greek art or history before, but perhaps she’d better look into it a little more.
She couldn’t look away as he pulled on a pair of jeans and dragged the chair over to the window. After sinking into it, he gazed out into the night, his eyes intense. But when weren’t his eyes intense?
God, she would be so embarrassed if someone could read her mind. She’d never dedicated this much synapse activity to a mere man before. It was beyond embarrassing.
But he wasn’t just any man, and it would be so easy to roll over and crook her finger at him.
A sharp cry broke through the early dawn stillness. Cadan sat bolt upright in the chair by the window and was at Diana’s side in seconds. She tossed weakly in her sleep, her face twisted with fear. A terrible trapped-animal noise came from her throat.
“Let go,” she cried.
Her fist made contact with the side of his head when he tried to keep her from thrashing. Definitely a nightmare.