The Bond

by B. C. Burgess

  “I know you do. You're perfectly comfortable with your own nudity. Not so much with mine.”

  “I'm sorry, Quin.”

  “No, Layla. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I do. My embarrassment is making everything awkward.”

  “We're just bathing, angel. It doesn't have to be perfect.”

  A bubble floated between them, and she popped it, watching the petal fall to the water before finding his eyes. “It's still the best bath I've ever taken.”

  He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Me, too, and it’s about to get better.” He scooted her back and handed her the soap. Then he rested his arms on the side of the tub. “Wash away, my love. If you want.”

  Her eyes widened on his torso as she filled her hands with soap. “Of course I do. I could stare at this part of your body all night.”

  She lathered up his stomach and chest, letting her slim fingers play in the deep grooves outlining hard muscle. Then she scooted closer and urged him away from the side of the tub. He tensed and groaned, and his arms encircled her waist, pulling her off the towel covering his lap. She laughed as she reached over his shoulders, sliding soapy hands down his spine, and he ran his tongue across her clean neck.

  “My sweet angel,” he murmured, going in for more.

  Her water magic made quick work of rinsing the soap away. Then she wiggled loose from his hold and scooted to the other side of the tub. “Lay your head in my lap while I wash your hair.”

  “Mmm…” Flashing deep dimples, he smoothly flipped around and leaned back, giving her a heart-melting wink. “I have a good view from down here.”

  She laughed as she got his hair wet. Then she urged him to rest his head on her chest while wrapping her legs around his waist. “Here, wash my legs while I get your hair.”

  His aura brightened as he summoned the soap. “It just keeps getting better and better with you.”

  “They're just feet and legs, Quin.”

  “No, love, these are not just feet and legs. These are your feet and legs, and they're perfect.”

  Her stomach fluttered as an indulged grin tugged on her lips. Then she rinsed his hair and added conditioner. His attention zoned in on her thighs, and chills swept up her spine as her lids grew heavy. She gave in and closed her eyes, sliding lower into the water. Then she blindly rinsed the conditioner away, but she didn't say anything once she was done. He was still touching her legs, and she couldn't help but lie there and let him.

  Quin smiled as he took her by the ankles and slid her feet to his hips. Then he glided his hands up the muscles that had liquefied long ago. Her breathing had slowed and deepened, and her aura was calm and beautiful, soothing his own lungs. “Are you tired, love?”

  “Nuh-uh,” she murmured, sliding her hands to his chest, “but that feels amazing.”

  He slowly ran his hands back to her feet. Then he sat up and maneuvered her into a cradle hold. “I think we're clean enough.”

  She licked his neck and opened her eyes. “Tastes clean to me.”

  Tightening his grip, Quin stood and stepped from the tub. Then he magicked their bodies and hair dry before summoning a dry towel around his waist. “Are you hungry?” he asked, carrying her to the bedroom.

  “Are you kidding?” she laughed. “I ate an entire ocean-full of seafood earlier. I’ll be good for a while. What about you?”

  He laid her on the bed and settled in beside her, propping his head on one hand. “I’m not in the mood for food.”

  She wasn’t blushing too bright, so he lowered his gaze, watching her body react to his stare. He relished the fact that his glance alone could do that, but he ached to touch her and had no intention of denying himself the pleasure. She quivered as he trailed his fingers to her inner thigh, and he grinned as he lightly squeezed, making her jolt and giggle.

  “Are you aiming for a tickle fight?” she asked.

  “I'm not ticklish,” he answered, burying his face in her cleavage. “I just wanted to hear your laugh.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, tingling his scalp with delicate fingers. “Okay.”

  He deeply inhaled. Then he moved his lips to hers, licking as he squeezed her thigh again. She laughed, and he pulled it into his lungs while walking his fingers up smooth skin. Her eyes stayed on his as she twitched and shivered, and he wondered how close he’d get before…

  “Are you thinking about breaking our deal?” She was defiantly staring at him, obviously determined to put up a fight.

  He stifled a laugh as he looked down, finding her body beautifully aroused and utterly available. A sigh tried to lodge in his tight throat, but he swallowed it away while sliding his palm higher, covering the journey he was dying to take.

  She clutched his hair in one hand while curling the other into a pillow. “Is it because I was embarrassed in the bathtub?”

  “This has nothing to do with embarrassment,” he assured, adding pressure between her legs.

  Her lungs deflated, and he pulled a spiral to his nose, smelling it while she took a breath.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, tickling her cheek with the curl.

  She scowled, holding her breath as she fought the urge to submit, and he moved his lips to hers, determined to win this one.

  “Will you let me?” he whispered.

  “It's not fair,” she countered.

  He smiled as two of his fingers left the others, and she gasped as her muscles tightened.

  He kept his lips to hers, but he didn't kiss. He just watched her eyes while slowly working his magic – no spells necessary. “You don't want me to stop, angel. I can tell.”

  Layla shuddered, trapped between pleasure and protest. He was right. She didn't want him to stop, but she wanted the whole package, damn it, not just the ribbons. “But…”

  Her refusal skipped into a moan, and her restraint snapped. To hell with fair, to hell with the guilt, and to hell with the deal. She couldn't control herself and was wasting precious pleasure by trying to, so she gave him what they both wanted.

  Quin smiled as his heart sped with approval. Not only had she surrendered, she'd dropped her ever-present reserve and demanded his touch. He'd dreamed about this side of her from the beginning, but had yet to see it, and as she showed him now, it went beyond his most amazing fantasies. His body hardened, rejoicing in the fulfillment of giving her exactly what she wanted, while preparing for the pleasure that would follow success.

  His boundaries were gone, his control unleashed, and this time he had no plans to rein it back in. Freedom… blessed and delicious freedom.

  His freedom was Layla’s captivity, and his mouth and hands might as well have been shackles pulling her places she’d never been. She was at his mercy, and she was okay with that. Every touch felt glorious and right – a shining moment that would never be forgotten. And her insecurities became inconsequential, lost in the chasm of rapture he’d pushed her into.

  When he moved his mouth back to hers, staring into her eyes with intense desire glinting in his own, her ecstasy peaked like never before.

  “Come on, baby,” he whispered, and a flood of heat and euphoria rolled over her body like a whitecap, rushing her flesh like the wind.

  He sighed then kissed her deeply, his hand growing still as her tremors slowed. He slid his mouth over her chin to let her breathe, but watching him shower her in kisses didn't calm her down one bit. Her skin burned hotter every time he touched it, her heart raced, and her knees shook.

  He was pulling her hip bone to his mouth when she finally found her voice. “You cheated.”

  “I did not,” he laughed. Then he sucked on her hip before moving further up her body. Once his gaze was locked on hers, he stroked her cheek and gave her a kiss. “Our deal is still on.”

  She blinked and furrowed her eyebrows, and he untangled her hand from the sheet, kissing her fingers before pulling them to his chest. “If you still want it to be.”

  Her eyes widened as realization finall
y hit, and delicate areas pulsed over blazing blood. Oh god.

  His gaze stayed on hers as he slid her fingers down his stomach, sweeping them over hard abs to the soft towel around his waist. “You have to make this move, love. I can’t do it for you.”

  Layla lay frozen, unsure where to go, but dying to get there. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I just need to know you’re not afraid. I’ll take it from there.”

  His fingers flexed around hers, and she knew what he needed. And she really wanted to give it to him, but the territory was foreign. She had no idea what to expect or how to proceed and wondered if she really was afraid. Then she found his eyes and knew better. She’d never felt safer than she felt in his arms.

  She swallowed and slid her hand lower, drifting nervous fingertips over plush cotton, and he slowly inhaled as he closed his eyes. When they reopened, she stared into their dark depths, seeing everything she loved in them. She found herself in them, too. Not just her reflection, but her essence. His eyes were always watching her with unfailing tenderness and patience, seeing her in a brighter light, and every time she looked at them, she found more than before.

  She smiled and bit her bottom lip. Then she vanished the last layer between them.

  A chill vibrated up her arm when their flesh met, and he shivered as he leaned in for a kiss. “Thank you, angel.” He pulled her palm to his chest. Then he left it there so he could lift a fistful of curls to his nose. “Your hand felt amazing, but I like it better when you touch my heart.”

  “I love your heart,” she whispered, flexing her fingers in time with the organ’s strong beats. “And I love that it's mine to touch.”

  “It's been yours from the beginning.”

  “I know,” she sighed, a blissful smile curving her lips.

  Quin inhaled her honeyed breath while drowning in the liquid eyes that changed his life. Then he parted her lips with a kiss while moving between her legs. The simple shift was tremendous in its significance, and her breath caught in her chest as her muscles tensed.

  His kissing paused, but his eyes stayed on hers as he found the pulse point quivering her throat. “Hey.”

  “Hey back.”

  “It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

  She reached for his cheeks and raised her knees to his hips. “I know. It’s just new.”

  “Let’s change that,” he suggested, following it with a kiss. Then he pressed his lips to her forehead while reaching between them.

  Once nestled inside her heavenly body, magic took over, and they both gasped as their world changed.

  The room’s temperature spiked as a force beyond their control pulled them together, and as oxygen rushed their lungs, their bodies floated from the bed. Tingling shocks sparked from their fingertips and toes, lifting their hair at its roots. Then the electrifying energy intensified and flowed inward, vibrating their arms and legs.

  His name tumbled from her lips, hitting his heart with an impact as physical as any he’d ever felt, and he closed his eyes, receiving his first out-of-body experience. He saw himself holding her in mid-air with magic exploding around them – sizzling clouds of color and shiny silver ribbons snaking into a cyclone. The bright storm grew more tumultuous as the energy invading their bodies drew closer to their physical connection. Then the room flashed as the two forces collided.

  Raging heat rushed Quin’s veins, jolting him back into his body. But the fire extinguished as quickly as it ignited, leaving them floating in a cool sea of contentment.

  The words pleasure, happiness and peace couldn't begin to describe it, because neither of them had ever been so pleased or so happy or so peaceful. In that moment, everything was right and nothing was wrong. Inconveniences – they didn't exist. Danger, pain, sorrow, stress and fear – none of it was real. The only need they had was for each other, and that need was one hundred percent fulfilled.

  Their trembling bodies descended to the bed, and he forced one of his hands from her back to brace his weight, but he didn't lay her down. He kept her to his chest as their hearts thundered and their lungs dragged in air.

  When he looked down, she looked up, and as their shocked eyes met through a glimmering golden haze, reverent sighs whispered from their parted lips.

  He had to touch it. He needed to touch her face to make sure it was real. He hovered from the bed then sat back down, keeping her wrapped around him while running his fingertips along every inch of her face. She'd always been perfect, and nothing about her features had changed, but now, incredibly, he found more than smooth skin, pouty lips, rosy cheeks, and emerald eyes. He could see everything about her when he looked at her face. Everything he loved emanated from its surface. Her capacity to feel emotions on a higher level, her ability to love abundantly and unconditionally, her generosity, optimism, humor, grace and strength… her internal beauty, it was all laid out for him to admire and touch anytime he wanted to. One look at her, and he could see her angelic soul.

  His hand came to a rest on her cheek, and he had to swallow a lump to talk. “Layla Love… my perfect angel.”

  Her wide eyes filled with moisture as her lips quivered, but she didn't respond, and he figured she was too overwhelmed to talk. He slowly leaned forward, watching her glowing face as his lips touched hers, and for several seconds he held them there, breathing the same air as her while burning the moment into his memory. It would be the most magnificent memory his mind would ever hold, this he knew, and to his ultimate elation, there were more precious memories to come.

  Chapter Three

  Blood swarmed Guthrie’s senses. Its tangy scent seeped up his nostrils and across his taste buds, and its sticky splatter coagulated on his exposed skin. The walls and ceiling of the large tent bore darkening drops, and shiny crimson puddles gathered on the floor.

  Guthrie had witnessed a lot of morbid scenes during his stint in the Dark Elite, but he’d never seen one quite like this. Two men who’d deemed themselves soothsayers lay dead. One had met his end the night before, and his decaying body was propped in the corner to motivate the other, who should have kept his big mouth shut. After hours of listening to the first soothsayer scream for mercy, the second decided to boast to his comrades that he could do better, and Agro overheard him. The soldier had turned white as the moon when Agro challenged his claim, telling him he’d get a chance to prove himself the following night.

  A day of restless sleep surely followed, and the idiot nearly pissed himself when the sun set and Agro beckoned him. He did piss himself when he walked into the tent to find a corpse staring at him with empty eye sockets. The eyeballs that belonged in the bloody holes were across the tent, along with the corpse’s severed limbs.

  Yes, Agro was good at motivating people, but the threat of dismemberment did him no good. Mr. I-can-do-better knew how to divine the future about as well as he knew how to keep his mouth shut. After four hours of meditation and four hours of screaming at the Heavens, he’d garnered nothing more than additional torture. Now Guthrie stood over two limbless bodies, covered in blood while awaiting Agro’s next command.

  “How many adult soldiers do we have?” Agro asked, wearily loading a pipe with lime-green herb.

  Guthrie waited for his boss to take a hit before answering. “Around seventy healthy, more than a dozen wounded.”

  “Still?”

  “We don’t have a healer.”

  Agro rolled his eyes and took another pull off his pipe. “Seventy then. It’s not enough.”

  “Enough to do what, sir?”

  “Are you dense? Enough to get my witch.”

  “We don’t know where she is.”

  “You don’t say,” Agro growled. “I need a real soothsayer. Not a piss-ant claiming to be one. And more soldiers.” He paused and paced, then halted and raised his eyebrows. “And a diversion.”

  “What would you have me do?” Guthrie asked.

  Agro dug into a bag and retrieved the map of his troo
ps. “Take this and a unit of our finest. Locate the closest soldiers and send them here before moving to the next camp. Most of the troops will contain children. For those that do, I want you to seek out the weakest soldiers and set them with the task of transporting the kids to the Lake Tahoe region. The adults are to make public appearances and plant false information with the locals. I want the Conn/Kavanagh coven to think I bought their lies and have moved south, so spin a tale and pass it on. As for a soothsayer, there’s a wizard in Nevada – not far outside that hexless shit-hole they call Sin City.”

  “Las Vegas.”

  “Right.” Agro vanished his pipe and summoned a piece of paper. “This wizard – Vortigern – he runs an institution that specializes in mental magic and will broker a deal on soothsayers. He should have some in stock and he owes me, so take these coordinates and something valuable out of that chest over there and tell him I want the best he has. Two of them.”

  Guthrie nodded as he took the paper and glanced at the treasure chest. “I’ll forget to mention what happened to the last two.”

  “That would be wise,” Agro agreed, glancing at the body near his feet. “I’m tired of chasing this one, Guthrie. What we’re doing isn’t working, and I want this done, so I’m giving you two nights to collect the soothsayers and as many soldiers as you can, then another to fly back. I expect you here before the sun rises on the third night.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Get Vortigern’s treasure then send someone in here to clean this mess. Report back to me once you’re ready to depart.”

  “Yes, sir,” Guthrie repeated.

  After digging through the plundered treasure for Vortigern’s payment, Guthrie exited the tent and found a lowly soldier to clean the boss’ mess. The boy reluctantly went to work, and Guthrie headed for his tent to pack a bag.

  Halfway there, Lynette spoke from behind him. “You never showed.”

  Guthrie halted, listening to her smooth voice while staring at a sky growing hazy with dawn.