“Most of my life, I’ve wished for some freedom, some sense of normalcy—just a life. That’s all I ever wished for but I’d give it all up if I thought I could have you.” Tugging on his hair, she brought his mouth to hers and whispered against his lips, “Make love to me, Rhys.”
Shaken to the core, Rhys kissed her—gentle, soft. Then he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “Hold onto me.”
Her arms crept around his neck and then Rhys focused—focused his mind on something other than the tight, silky feel of her pussy wrapped around his dick, something other than her soft, dark blue eyes and on something other than the ache within his chest. Magic pulsed and flowed. The physical world fell away and he felt Holly jerk in his arms.
“Shhhh…it’s all right,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck.
Between the span of heartbeats, they went from standing in the alley to lying on a wide, soft bed covered with fluffy, fat pillows and a comforter the color of rubies. He’d left the window in his hotel room open so the air was cool, nearly as cool as it was outside. The air was perfumed with roses and the lights were golden soft. But it wasn’t nearly perfect enough. Not for her. Not for Holly.
Slowly, he lifted away, staring down at her face as he withdrew from her body. Holly made a plaintive sound low in her throat and reached for him. He caught one wrist in his hand and dipped his head, kissing the delicate skin inside it.
“Shhh…” he murmured again.
Settling his weight on his knees, he crouched above her and went to work on the buttons of her shirt. There were six of them—pearly white buttons—and as he freed them, the soft chenille of her sweater fell away from her breasts. Lace covered her curves and through that fragile shield, he could see the dark circles of her areolas.
“I missed you,” he said quietly, circling one nipple and then the other before releasing the front clasp. The bra parted and he rolled off her and caught her hand, tugging her to her feet. As she stood, she rolled her shoulders and sent the sweater to the floor but when she started to take her bra off, Rhys caught her hands. “Let me.”
With exquisite care, he removed her bra and then crouched down in front of her to deal with her boots.
“You left your red ones behind,” he said softly. He’d gone through her rooms, searching for some sign that might tell him where to find her. Her parents had been with him and he’d gone through seven silent hells when he’d seen those boots boxed in up in clear plastic, on a shelf with easily twenty other pairs of boots. He’d seen that red leather and remembered how she’d looked the night he’d made love to her that first time, when she’d worn the red leather and nothing else.
“I’m not good enough at teleporting to bring luggage,” she said hoarsely.
He shot her a grin, unable to fight the pride that swelled through him. “I don’t know, you’re a damn sight better at it than I realized, slipping away from the Reach without leaving any sign of where you teleported to.” He stood before her slowly, pausing to press a kiss to her hipbone, her navel, one pink nipple and her shoulders. Sliding his arms around her waist, he brought her nude body up against his own and dipped his head, pressing their brows together. “Good enough that you were able to hide just how good you were…from me. Not an easy task, that.”
Slanting his mouth across hers, he kissed her—quick and rough. “Tell me you won’t leave me like that again.”
A sad smile curved her lips. “I likely won’t have the chance, will I?”
“Hmmmm…” The burden of reality appeared between them, however briefly. Cupping her face in his hands, Rhys pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. “I’ll see you happy, Holly. No matter what it takes.”
Gazing at him with sad, serious eyes, she caught his wrists and tugged, guiding his hands from her face down to her breasts. He cupped those sweet, soft curves in his palms and circled his thumbs over her nipples. “Then make love to me, Rhys. That makes me happy.”
“I can do that,” he said. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the vase of roses by the bed. He held out a hand, flexed his magic and one perfect rose separated itself from the bouquet and drifted toward him on currents of air. “Do you know what tomorrow is?”
Cocking a brow, she replied, “Thursday?”
The rose came within reach and he plucked it out of the air. Holding her gaze with his, he stroked the soft petals down her cheek.
“It’s Valentine’s Day. It makes me think about how very little romance I’ve given you.”
She shivered, her lids drooping down. “I don’t need romance, Rhys.”
“All women need a little romance in their lives, Holly. They all deserve it. I haven’t shown you enough softness, enough sweetness. Do you know, I even had a romantic night planned for us the night you pulled your disappearing act. Candlelight, champagne, roses—the works.” Trailing the rose down her neck, he smiled a little. “If I’d known I’d find you today, maybe I would have bought you a present.”
“I don’t need presents, Rhys. You know I’ve got more than I can ever use.”
“Hmmm. But I think I’d like to give you one.” Grinning, he passed the rose in front of her eyes. “Close your eyes.”
She did, standing in front of him, naked, all that pale blonde hair curling around her shoulders, spilling down her back, her lids concealing the rich blue of her eyes.
True magic wasn’t one of his skills. Making nothing into something else took a power greater than the elves could claim, a higher power. But Rhys had a grand hand with magics of mind, teleporting, telepathy—calling something that existed in one place to his hand was as easy as breathing. As was replacing it with something else.
Earlier, while he’d prowled the streets searching for Holly, he’d passed a jeweler’s shop. In the window, he’d seen a jeweled collar of sapphires and diamonds, sapphires as deep and dark as Holly’s eyes and diamonds that gleamed like snow under the sun. He’d thought briefly of buying it and now he wished he had. But he doubted the owner of the shop would complain overmuch when money was discovered in place of the diamond and sapphire piece. Probably a little too much money, since Rhys wasn’t sure of the cost.
The rose disappeared from his hand, exchanged for the necklace and he circled around Holly. “Lift your hair.” On the far wall hung a large elegant mirror and he watched their reflections as he placed the necklace around her throat.
“I saw this,” he whispered, placing his cheek against hers. “And I thought of you. Open your eyes, Holly.”
When she opened her eyes, she gasped and reached up to touch the stones.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Laying his hands on her shoulders, he said, “It suits you.”
Holly laughed. “Hmmmm. I like pretty things.” She stroked the stones gently.
“As do I.” Sliding his hands down, he cupped her breasts together. “Particularly soft, pretty breasts.” He circled his thumbs around her nipples and then moved one hand lower, until he could cup her sex. “Soft, pretty pussy…so wet and hot. You burn for me, don’t you, Holly?” he asked, watching as her face flushed pink and her lids drifted closed. “No…don’t close your eyes. Watch me. Watch yourself.”
They stood there, staring into the mirror as he cupped one breast, teasing the nipple while lower, he stroked two fingers in and out her tight sheath.
Holly moaned and fell back against him.
Sliding an arm around her waist, he braced her weight. She was silky soft, wet and warm as a summer rainstorm and so damn tight, her muscles clenching down around his fingers as he stroked her.
“So damn lovely, Holly,” he whispered against her ear. “Look at you. Did you dream of me when you left?”
Her head fell back against his shoulder and she stared up at him. “Every damn night,” she whispered.
Twisting his wrist, he screwed his fingers deep. “Come for me, precious. Come for me and let me see.”
His voice was a hypnotic, sexy purr in her ear and as he p
ressed his thumb against her clit, she couldn’t stop the climax if she had to. It hit hard and fast.
Clenching down around the fingers still moving within her body, she moaned.
And all the while, Rhys muttered in her ear—hot, erotic words that made her burn for more even as the climax raged on.
When it passed, Rhys rested his hands on her waist and whispered, “Can you stand?”
With a watery laugh, she said, “I don’t know.”
Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to her shoulder and murmured, “Try.”
She swayed as he moved away, taking the strength and warmth of his body. Locking her knees, she closed her eyes and tried to level out her breathing. Just when it seemed she might catch her breath, he came back, his clothes gone, his long, muscled body naked and hot as he brushed against her. He gathered her hair and pushed it over one shoulder, exposing her back.
Sliding his arms around her, he pressed close to her body. “I’m going to love you, precious, and you’re going to watch. We’re both going to watch.” Nudging her thighs apart, he pressed his cock against her sex and then dipped his knees. When he straightened, he used the arm around her waist to guide her down on his rigid length.
They both moaned. He pushed deep, deeper, until he’d buried his cock completely inside her. The thick stalk of flesh throbbed, burned, stretching her flesh.
“Damn it,” Rhys swore, his voice harsh and shaky, his breath dancing over the exposed flesh of her back. He shifted and took a few steps forward, each step seeming to drive his length deeper, stretch her more. He carried her to the wall where the mirror stood, stopping just in front of the mirror where a table stood.
“Put your hands on the table, Holly,” he whispered. “Ride me.”
Shuddering, she shifted forward and braced her hands on the table and then rolled her hips.
Awkward at first, she soon fell into a slow, lazy rhythm. Shoving away from the table, she reached back, twining her arms around Rhys’ neck. It limited her movement but the way his length throbbed inside her, the way he felt when his arms came around her, cradling her, holding her body made up for it.
He started to lift her, his strong arms moving her body, guiding her hips up and down.
From under her lashes, she stared at the mirror, at their reflections. Over her shoulder, she could see his face, their hair mingling, her golden curls twining with the darker, straighter strands of Rhys’ hair. His eyes glowed and swirled, staring at her body with naked hunger.
When he looked up and met her gaze in the mirror, there was a tenderness there that made her heart ache.
The sapphire and diamond-studded collar around her neck gleamed. It was a sexy piece of jewelry, unlike anything she’d ever owned before. This was the kind of gift a man would give to a lover—sexy and feminine.
Her flesh gleamed under a fine sheen of sweat, her nipples dark and swollen. The muscles in her belly worked as she moved with Rhys, letting him set the pace as she moved up and down on his thick cock. Lower, she could see the pale golden curls that covered her pussy and the dark, ruddy length of his cock as he moved in and out. His swollen length was wet.
As though he realized where she was watching, he slowed his pace, slid his hands down her legs, stooping just a bit and catching her behind the knees.
Then he lifted her, bringing her feet completely off the floor. Holly wailed as the change in position forced her completely onto him. He held her against him, supporting her weight easily, her back cuddled up against his front and his hands holding her open, exposed. He rolled his hips against her and they watched as his cock pushed in slowly, pulled out…slllloooowwwly. So damn teasingly slow and then he did it again.
It was highly erotic and the air around them was so sexually charged, she couldn’t breathe without feeling him, without edging ever-so closer to climax. She couldn’t possibly get any more turned on…and then Rhys muttered in her ear. “Touch yourself, precious. Pet yourself while I fuck this pretty little pussy.”
Whimpering, she let go of his neck, slid one hand down her torso, watching the way her hand glided over sweat-slickened flesh. She hadn’t ever been so damn aware of herself, or of him. When she touched her clit, he growled against her neck and bit her hard and quick. “Stroke it, baby. Let me see you touch yourself.”
It took so very little. Holly was already dying for him, the climax building inside so massive that it threatened to consume them both. Stroking her clit, her fingers wet from her arousal, she shuddered involuntarily and tightened around him. The ridged head of his cock stroked, pulsed, passed over the sensitive nerve bed buried deep inside her pussy—two deep thrusts, her fingers busily stroking her clit, that was all it took. She climaxed with a scream, arching back against him as the world exploded before her eyes, as she came apart in his arms.
Dimly, she was aware when Rhys started to come, her name a harsh, guttural whisper, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise. His cock jerked inside her sex and the sensation of his seed jetting inside her—a hot, wet splash deep inside her—only added to the climax that still held her in its grip.
Briefly, her vision dimmed and she went limp in his arms. Dazed, unaware of anything, of everything, she sagged in his arms and let him carry them to the bed.
Loath to withdraw, Rhys held Holly tightly against him, his half-erect shaft still jerking and twitching as he lowered them onto the bed, holding her in his lap.
Without breaking their connection, he lay down and then rolled them onto their sides, cuddling up against her back. His cock pulsed and involuntarily, he rolled his hips forward, nudging her ass.
She whimpered and pushed her bottom back. Stroking a hand down her side, he cupped her hip and squeezed gently.
“You can’t leave me again, Holly,” he whispered, drowsy. All the tension and worry of the past few weeks was catching up to him and as the adrenaline surge faded, he was going to crash hard and fast. Working his arms around her, he pulled her tightly against him and buried his face in her hair. “Tell me you won’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
Chapter Six
The rocky Maine beach was deserted this time of year, the cold winds keeping most mortals away. Bryan’s body had long since adjusted to the arctic temperatures of the Reach and the sharp wind blowing off the water didn’t even faze him.
Biologically speaking, he was still mostly mortal. The physical changes brought upon him when he shared blood with the elvish healer in his childhood wouldn’t be readily apparent for some time. He’d continue to age as a mortal until his late thirties or early forties and then the process would stop, for centuries, or so he’d been told.
The magic and the less obvious abilities brought on by his mixed blood were what made him aware of Nik’s arrival even before Nik made a sound.
The man standing behind threw off an arctic blast that would have chilled Bryan to the bone if he hadn’t been a little pissed off himself. Anger kept a man rather warm.
Slowly, he turned to face Nikolai, the man who had been his father for nearly thirty years. The memories he had of his natural father were dim but he remembered enough to know that the man had been little more than a sperm donor. He hadn’t really been a father to him and Bryan couldn’t even say he mourned him. After he’d abducted Bryan from his mother as a child, Nate had been in a car wreck that had ended his life and nearly killed Bryan.
If Nikolai hadn’t intervened, Bryan would have died.
There were a million memories between the two men. Nikolai truly was Bryan’s father and nothing could change the love Bryan felt for him.
But that love didn’t change matters now.
His mother had left her home, trying not to cry, and Bryan’s baby sister had run away, desperate to find some sort of life.
All because of an arrogant man’s refusal to accept the inevitable.
“Where is your mother?” Nik demanded, his voice cutting into the silence like a frozen blade.
Bryan
snorted. “Do you really think I’m going to tell you?”
Nik’s eyes narrowed. “I know you helped her leave the Reach, Bryan. I demand you tell me where she is.”
Shaking his head, Bryan responded, “No can do, old man. You want her to come back, you’re going to have to figure out where you fucked up and fix it.”
Eyes darkening, Nik scowled. “You think I don’t want to do just that? But how can I fix it when she will not talk to me? And how could she leave at a time like this, when Holly is out there, alone, vulnerable—”
“You really are clueless.” Disgusted, Bryan planted his hands on his hips and stared at Nik. “Holly is the problem, Da. You’re making her miserable. She has no life. She has no friends. The few times she tries to do a damn—”
Waving a dismissive hand, Nik said, “Holly is spoiled and headstrong. I know what—”
Closing the distance between them, Bryan snapped, “Damn it, if you say one more time that you know what is best for Holly, I’m gonna punch you.”
Nik’s eyes went icy. “I know how to raise my daughter, Bryan.”
“No. You don’t. Because you can’t seem to get it through your head that you’ve already raised her. She’s a big girl now and you’ve got her so boxed in, so caged in, she’s absolutely miserable. She hates her life.”
“She does—”
Bryan hadn’t exactly been serious when he said he’d hit Nik. He wouldn’t…he didn’t think. But he was mad enough now, worried enough, to do the one thing that just might sink into his father’s thick skull. Reaching out, he grabbed Nik’s head between his hands and projected.
Elvin magic in a mortal body sometimes causes unusual gifts. In Bryan’s case, it had made an already sensitive child into an empath. The past few years, Bryan’s control had been strained to the breaking point when he was around his sister, just because she had gotten so damn miserable.
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