The Seer

by Marie Johnston

  “I—I…” His mind refused to function. She was nearly on top of him and she’d voiced a wish that he hadn’t known was his wildest fantasy until she’d said it. He could’ve died and been a happy male with two kisses. But now he couldn’t leave this earth until he discovered the bliss they could create together. Unless she meant… “With who?”

  She caressed his face, her finger trailing down his neck and onto his shirt. “You. There is no one else.”

  There’d better not be. As if he had a say. “We can’t be together.”

  “Yes we can. We’re both adults.” She made it sound so simple. But it wasn’t, not with the history between them.

  “I swore an oath to your father.” They’d had this argument already, and it was his best defense. He sat up and she went with him.

  He moved to sit up on his bed, but she stayed him with a hand on his arm. “Your oath was to protect me or die trying. I’m here. I’m safe. And you’re no longer my guard.”

  Her gaze was sincere, her touch genuine. She wanted him and he couldn’t have dreamed of a female like her being interested in a brute like him. “I’m not good enough for you.”

  “What if I’m not good enough for you?” Her tone… Was that something she was concerned about?

  “Never think you’re not worthy of anyone. You stand above them all. Your brain, your beauty, your love of insane TV shows. They should all be jealous.” He didn’t know the “they” he spoke of, but he had to get his point across. She was special. She was the most special person on this earth.

  “Bartholomew, you’re the only one I want. I’ve been having dreams about you. About us.”

  Her confession would’ve knocked him on his ass if he weren’t already planted on it. She wanted him? Sure, she’d kissed him, but he’d convinced himself that she was drunk on her freedom, testing her limits.

  But she wanted him. And he’d made it his mission to give her what she wanted. Tunneling one hand through her hair, he caught her pale gaze. “This is a big step. For you. For both of us.”

  “Will you step with me?”

  He tugged her head down to him. He would go anywhere with her.

  Chapter 5

  Their mouths pressed together. Kissing him could become her favorite activity. The scrape of his stubble ignited all her nerve endings, sending shivers down her spine until heat bloomed between her legs.

  This was really going to happen. She’d expected his resistance, but this had been simmering between them for the past few years. Once the threat of their old government was gone, it had shifted the dynamic between them until she was more than his charge and he was more than his duty.

  Of course, she’d noticed his utter maleness long before that. The expanse of his shoulders enthralled her. How his gaze tracked her, missing nothing around them. His total dedication to her had morphed from necessary, to endearing, to frustrating because he might never look at her like more than a responsibility.

  Tonight he had. And she’d jumped at the chance.

  He cradled her head and stroked down her torso until his hand settled on her waist. Would she ruin the moment if she demanded they strip down and get to it?

  She summoned patience but tugged his shirt up. She’d never seen him in a state of undress. He was always outside the door at the ready.

  What a shame. Because the rock-hard abs under her fingertips shouldn’t be concealed. She broke the kiss to yank his shirt off his head. He blinked in surprise but released her so she could finish the task.

  Ripples of muscle flexed and twitched under her perusal. She couldn’t just use her eyes; she sat back on her heels and ran her hands over his chest.

  So. Hard.

  He propped himself on his elbows and let her explore him. She danced her fingertips over his dips and valleys. His chest would freeze, then rise and fall rapidly and freeze again, but he didn’t twitch otherwise. Circling his pecs, she marveled at how rigid they could be on him compared to her own anatomy. He was carved of stone…a tempting, warm marble she couldn’t quit touching. She trailed her fingers farther down.

  The bulge in his black pants was impressive. She wanted to see that, too. Her hand landed on his fly, but he shifted, putting his own hand on top of hers.

  “It’s been a long time for me, Isabelle. Since before that night. And you’ve never…?”

  She shook her head. Logically, she knew it would’ve been difficult for him to have found a partner while he was guarding her twenty-four-seven, but his admission made her glow. “No one since?”

  “I wasn’t going to risk your safety for a quick fuck.”

  A male that dedicated might scare other females, but Isabelle’s heart skipped. She gave him a wry smile. “I learned to drive instead.” There was no one else worth exploring the pleasures of the body with.

  “Good decision,” he growled and released her hand. “We need to go slow, for both of us. Because once we get started, I won’t last long.”

  “Because it’s been over a century?”

  “Because it’s you.”

  Her lips parted and the heat that blazed through her should’ve melted her clothes off. Her leggings and shirt were too constricting. She yanked her shirt over her head, tearing her simple sports bra off with it. Cool air wafted over her breasts, making her nipples peak.

  Scurn made a choking sound, his gaze glued to her breasts. “My word, they’re perfect.”

  She preened under his compliment. Surely he’d seen plenty in his day, even if it was so long ago. Standing, she hooked her fingers in her waistband and peeled her leggings down. She stepped out of her clothing and toed it aside. Should she be self-conscious? The way he stared at her, she wasn’t.

  Scurn’s breaths shortened and his waistband tented farther. “If I’m dreaming, I’ll dismember anyone who wakes me.”

  He didn’t move to finish undressing himself. She was the pacesetter and didn’t need a premonition to know it. Dropping back down to her knees, she liked how his gaze caught on the sway of her breasts.

  Undoing his pants wasn’t easy with the pressure underneath his fly, but once she freed him—so worth it.

  She gasped. “I’ve seen pictures, but they were nothing like this.” He was a big man. She trailed a finger down his burning length. His erection jumped under her touch. He was hot, smooth, and unyielding, like plush-covered rock. She traced the veins lining his shaft.

  It was like a new toy. Touching him pleased her, like there was a connection between them. The pleasure he felt washed over her until she was aching and needy.

  He finally clasped her wrist. “I won’t keep my control if you keep doing that.” Popping up, he brought her to a stand with him. He kicked his pants off and swooped her up to stretch her out on her bed. “You deserve better than a floor.”

  She was game to be with him anywhere, but when he was standing, the view was spectacular. He overshadowed her with his wide shoulders, and every move he made bunched and flexed powerful muscles. “You’re magnificent naked.”

  He blinked. Had he never thought of himself that way? He was duty, not desirable? His focus returned and his gaze swept her body, heat flaring. “I’m going to show you how good this can feel and prepare you.”

  The way she was feeling, she doubted she needed much preparation, but it would make him feel better.

  The bed dipped under his weight as he reclined next to her. His woodsy, leather scent surrounded her. He cupped a breast and kneaded her flesh. A simple roll of his fingers, a squeeze of his palm, and she was molten under him. Taking his time, he massaged and caressed her until she was squirming for more. He dipped his head to capture a nipple.

  She arched her back into him, her gasp echoing in the room. Cradling his head, she squirmed as he tongued her nipple, a soft, hot caress, then switched to the other one. They were hard, straining toward the ceiling, and his touch only increased her need to be stroked.

  He rolled over her, propping himself on his forearms on either side of her head. H
er legs naturally parted to cradle him. This was where he belonged. In bed with her, not outside her door.

  Peppering kisses along her belly, he moved down. Her breath caught when she realized where he was going.

  He glanced up, the sight more erotic than she thought possible. What was he waiting for?

  “Don’t stop.” Hellfire. She was nearly begging.

  The grin he developed was full of wicked promise. This was so new. All of it. She knew Scurn better than anyone, but this side of him hadn’t been for her until now. Just like her, he’d stored it away, only to bring it out with each other.

  She opened her thighs farther to fit his wide shoulders. What he planned to do, she only knew about in the textbook sense. When she’d watched a show about oral sex, or read about it, it was more of a huh-wonder-what-that’d-feel-like curiosity.

  This wasn’t curiosity. It was desperation. She couldn’t help but roll her hips, only to buck when he ran his tongue along her sex. The sensual tickle was nothing compared to when he parted her folds and used his tongue to stroke her clit.

  “Bartholomew.” She tensed and relaxed in a rhythm that matched his lapping. Watching wasn’t an option. She collapsed back and writhed under him. He gripped her thighs and anchored her close to him.

  Delicious pressure built. Where was it building to? There was something on the other side of a cliff and she was careening toward the edge.

  Her knees hitched up as she rode the tidal wave of ecstasy as it built higher.

  Then he slid the tip of a finger inside of her tight heat.

  Her mouth dropped open as she sucked in air. All the muscles in her core clamped down on him, but he pushed his finger in farther.

  “Yes,” she hissed. How could that feel so good?

  He teased her clit with his tongue, and the fullness of him inside of her only added to the hurricane of sensation gathering.

  Then he slid his finger back out and she barked out a “No.”

  He stopped. She lifted her head, gaping at him. Why in the world did he quit?

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked in a guttural growl.

  “No. Keep going. Keep doing that.”

  There was that grin again. His tongue hit the magic spot and his finger threaded back inside of her. Both of them together catapulted her over the edge. A scream ripped from her as she crested, suspended for a heartbeat, savoring the experience. Starbursts exploded behind her eyes as release claimed her.

  She jerked, her hands fisted in the sheets, shuddering until she came back to herself. He seemed to sense when she needed him to stop.

  He landed kisses like butterflies along her thigh. Her leg twitched, but she was otherwise boneless.

  She gulped to catch her breath. “So that’s an orgasm.” That wispy voice was hers?

  He climbed up her body, the bulges of his shoulders flexing and his face coated with her juices. A heart-stoppingly erotic sight.

  “I want your first time to be unforgettable.” He nibbled a line from her collarbone to her ear.

  “It already is.” She shivered and ran her hands over his scalp. He leaned into her hands. “Is that what it’ll feel like for you?”

  “Yes.” His intense gaze rose to meet hers. “But I have a feeling it will be unlike any I’ve experienced before.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I doubt I can remember a single one. But the ones with you, I will remember forever.”

  “Bartholomew.” She never took what he said lightly. He took the time to ask questions and clarify what she was saying, but he also didn’t try to fool her with words or actions.

  “Why have you started calling me that?”

  She cocked her head. “I like it. But it doesn’t always fit the moment.”

  His shaft pressed between them and the rigidity of his shoulders showed the restraint he was using to keep from rocking himself against her.

  “I’ve never liked my name,” he admitted. “Never thought twice about it—until you said it.”

  She placed her hands on each side of his face, his stubble scratching her fingers. “Bartholomew Danders Scurn. I want you inside me.”

  Desire blazed in his eyes. He shifted his pelvis until his cock prodded her entrance. Moving back and forth, he stroked her clit with his hard length and made her jump.

  “You’re teasing me.” She wanted to know what this was like, all of it, with him inside of her. She wanted all of him.

  “I’m coating myself so I can enter easier. You’re tight.”

  She planted her feet on the bed, and her breath seized in her lungs as he slowly entered her. If she’d felt full from his finger, this sensation took her over, pinned her to him. Every inch, he stopped and let her adjust to him.

  He took it slow. When she thought he’d fully seated himself, he withdrew.

  “What—”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. His arms were anchored on either side of her. “We’ll get there.”

  He thrust back in as far as he’d been before. His body shook from head to toe from his restraint.

  She wished he’d let some of it go. She wanted all of him. “Scurn.”

  “What happened to Bartholomew?” His voice came out raspy. He shoved in farther. Almost there. Back out. She almost screamed at him. Back in.

  One final thrust and she had all of him. They gazed at each other. This was it. They were doing it. This was nothing like before, when he’d gone down on her. This was close, connected, the intimacy on a level all its own.

  He rocked back out and in. She rose to meet him. They maintained eye contact. The tension hadn’t left his shoulders. He gauged her every reaction. His gaze dipped to where her breasts jutted toward him, then skimmed back up.

  “I like this,” she admitted with a gasp. “I like it a lot.” But something told her it would only be like this with him. She didn’t care to test the theory.

  His pace was steady. Every thrust in scraped her clit against him, starting another climb up her peak. She met each thrust harder, seeking that stimulation.

  Twining her legs around his waist opened her to him. She arched her back and her breasts caught his attention again. His pace picked up. Her frantic undulation increased.

  He caught her mouth. Their tongues twined and he stroked her with the same rhythm. Over and over he surged into her and each time brought her closer to the brink.

  Moving her hands down his neck around his shoulders, she squeezed. The higher she went, the harder her nails dug in.

  He grunted, she moaned, their sounds mixing until she tumbled into her climax. She tensed, but he held her to him. Passion rolled through her and he caught her scream with his kiss. Her walls clenched and milked him, then it was his turn to stiffen and buck, his thrusts shortening as he released. Like him, she swallowed his shouts.

  Warmth spread through her with his orgasm. He was coated in her and she was filled with him. So right.

  When he released her, it was only to pant with their foreheads touching.

  She feathered her fingers over the raised scratches she’d left on his back. “I can’t wait to try all the different positions.”

  Scurn’s gaze was stuck on the mirror, but not on his own reflection. Isabelle exited the shower, her body glistening with droplets he could lick off if they didn’t have to get going. He left the bathroom as she toweled off her hair lest she end up with her ass planted on the counter while he thrust into her. Again.

  She’d been insatiable—and he had, too. But he’d been cautious because he’d wanted them both to be able to move when the sun set.

  He dressed and marveled over the sudden turn his life had taken, and not for the first time. Both times had revolved around the female in the bathroom.

  She rushed out, her eyes wide and the towel clutched to her chest. “They’re after her.” The towel was flung aside as she rushed to her clothing still piled on the floor.

  “Do you know who she is?” he asked. “Or who they are?” Specifics mattered if they were to find he
r in time.

  Isabelle shook her head, her damp hair sending droplets flying. “Someone her parents talked to about her.”

  It was evening and there were plenty of opening and closing doors echoing through the place, and voices resonated inside and out of various rooms. Scurn didn’t attach his shoulder holster or his knife scabbard. He’d have to conceal them as they went out to the car.

  Isabelle threw her shirt on. It was backward, but he didn’t stop her. Her leggings were next, then she twirled her hair on top of her head and shoved the cap on.

  “Ready?” she said, starting for the door.

  “Shoes?”

  She blinked and glanced at her feet. One shoe lay in the middle of the room. He helped find her other. When she was ready, he put a hand on her lower back and steered her out the door. They were both dressed in black, and not in a way that said they were going out for a fun date night. It’d look better if people saw the couple first and their state of all-black clothing later.

  When they settled back in the Mercedes, she barely let the engine fall into a steady purr before she put it in gear and squealed away.

  He clutched the armrest. “Obey the law, Isabelle. It’d be a worse delay if we drew the attention of human law enforcement.”

  The car’s momentum slowed as she let off the gas. “You are correct. But…I’m worried.”

  “You know whoever is after this girl means harm?”

  She nodded and punched the gas enough to get through a yellow light. “I know that if they get to her, she’ll be lost. But if she survives, she’ll thrive and things will change.”

  “Do you know how?”

  A vertical crease formed between Isabelle’s eyebrows. “It will irrevocably alter her life and mine.” Isabelle’s gaze met his for a heartbeat before returning to the road. “People will find out about us. But I can’t let something happen to a child because I’m afraid.”

  “I will protect you. That hasn’t changed. And it won’t ever change.” He shrugged into his shoulder holster and secured his blade around his thigh.