Adric's Heart

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Adric's Heart Page 7

by Rebecca Rivard


  “Yes…” She gripped his wrists. His eyes were dark with desire, his handsome face intent. Her core clenched. A hot, needful yearning slid through her veins. She wanted him so much it hurt.

  Why you?

  They’d met for the first time at Dion and Cleia’s mate ball. To a teenager who’d grown up in Rock Run’s rough-hewn, dimly lit caverns, the ball had been something out of a storybook. Outdoors on a bright summer day in two massive white tents overflowing with flowers, one tent for dancing, the other for dining. All seven of the sun fae clans had been present, their long, inhumanly perfect bodies clad in the finest fae couture, their hair all the fiery shades of sunshine: gold, silver, copper. One-of-a-kind jewels glittered in their ears and around their wrists and throats.

  Rosana had been dancing with a tall blond sun fae when her nape had prickled. She’d glanced around, and there was Adric, lean and unsmiling and gorgeous in a colorful African-style tunic. Standing at the edge of the dance floor with his sister and watching her with a feline intensity.

  Arousal had shivered over her skin, the first ever in her life. At sixteen, she was barely adolescent; a fada’s life was measured in centuries. Too young to be thinking of love or finding a mate.

  He’d sauntered across the polished wood floor, a cat on the prowl, and asked her to dance. She almost said no. His scent and quartz marked him as an earth fada, and she suspected he was just trying to piss off the Rock Run males.

  Then he’d introduced himself, and she’d realized he was the new Baltimore alpha. The man who’d already managed to make an enemy of both Dion and Tiago.

  “Well?” His expression was challenging.

  A spark flashed between them—and she found herself saying yes.

  He’d been polite, respectful, careful not to pull her too close, his hands light on her shoulder and waist. But for those few minutes, her nerves had tingled with excitement, her heart drumming crazily in her chest.

  The moment the music stopped, two Rock Run men stepped in and suggested in hard voices that Adric find someone else to dance with. He’d left soon after.

  Since then, she’d only seen him once a year or so. She’d told herself she wasn’t interested, especially when she’d heard a group of warriors laughing a little enviously about what a horny dog the Baltimore alpha was. The man had a different woman every other week.

  But the heat was always there, simmering between them.

  Until Adric had changed the game. Stealing kisses whenever he had the chance. Making her want him. Daring her to come to him, when they both knew Dion would take it as a personal betrayal. And Adric didn’t help. He seemed to take a special glee in seeing how far he could push Dion.

  Well, she’d taken Adric’s dare, and if it pissed off her brother, she’d just have to accept it. This wasn’t some reckless, juvenile rebellion.

  Adric was her mate, even if she’d resisted admitting it. How could he ever claim her? Their two clans barely tolerated each other. Mate with him, and the balance might tip, setting off a war or a series of challenges.

  Hot tears stung her eyes. She inhaled, blinked them away.

  Adric rubbed a thumb under her eye, confused and concerned. “You’re crying?”

  Her heart turned over. It was the uncertainty that got her. She guessed he didn’t let many people see him looking anything but controlled, in charge.

  She lifted a shoulder, let it drop. “It’s just…so much.” Which was the truth.

  “Too much?” He curled up to cup her face, his gaze searching hers. “Just say the word and I’ll stop. You want to go home?”

  “No!” She clutched his shoulders. “I want this. So much.”

  He brushed his lips over hers, slow and sweet. “You sure?”

  She gave a vigorous nod.

  “Okay, then.” His mouth nudged hers open, deepening the kiss. His tongue touched inside, teasing her, taking her deeper step by step until she was making low sounds of arousal in her throat.

  He ended the kiss and lay back down, looking up at her with heated eyes while his hands played over her body, toying with her nipples, shaping her waist, her hips. Between their bodies, his cock pressed against her sex without entering her. She reached down and adjusted it so she could slide back and forth on its slick length.

  His breath hissed in.

  She felt an unfamiliar, very feminine sense of power. At least she wasn’t alone in this neediness.

  Setting her fingertips on his abdomen, she undulated her hips, pleasuring them both. He caught her hair in his hand, tugged her head back.

  Craving contracted her womb, hot and liquid. “Adric.”

  “Ric.” He rose up to kiss the side of her neck. “My friends call me Ric.”

  “Ric,” she obediently repeated.

  A sexy growl against her throat. “Lift up a little.”

  When she obeyed, he wet his thumb in her juices and then swirled it around her clit. The work-roughened pad made her suck in a breath. It aroused, and yet hurt.

  And then the two mixed together, and she moaned.

  His smile was feral, sharp-toothed. “That’s it. Come for me, love.”

  He used the hand in her hair to control her, keeping her body stretched taut, her pussy rubbing against the edge of his cock and that erotically rough thumb on her clit. She had her own hands on her breasts now, both soothing her own ache and seducing him with an age-old instinct.

  He muttered something dark and gave her hair a firm tug. Sensation rocketed down her spine.

  “Come for me.” A soft command.

  She inhaled raggedly. He rolled her clit between his thumb and finger and the pleasure exploded through her. She moaned and let it take her, riding the waves as they crashed through her, over her, lifting her up and stealing her breath until she was wrung out and gasping.

  She let out a slow exhale and hung over him, limp and satiated.

  “Beautiful.” He curled his hand around her nape, drew her close for a hard kiss.

  Between their bodies, his erection pulsed. She slid a hand down to caress him.

  His eyes sparked hotly into hers, but he set a hand on her wrist. “You’re not too sore?”

  Her heart constricted. He was being so considerate, even though he was hard as steel, his erection pulsating beneath her fingers.

  “A little,” she admitted, her gaze on his cock. It was smooth and a little sticky from her juices. She ran a thumb over the wide, flushed head, and he groaned.

  But he continued, “If it’s too much, we don’t—”

  She curved her fingers around him and squeezed, halting him in mid-sentence. “I’m fine,” she said, and lifted off him long enough to grab one of the little blue packets. She ripped it open with her teeth and worked the condom down over his erection.

  When she was done, he lifted her by the hips so she was poised over him, and then paused. “You do it. Take me inside you.”

  Setting her hands on his chest, she eased herself down. He slipped inside and she stilled. “It feels…different.” She slid down the rest of the way, and then sucked in a breath as he touched deep inside, where she still throbbed. “Deeper.”

  “Good,” he said hoarsely as he grasped her hips and started to move. “It feels…good. So fucking good.”

  “Sim…” She slipped into Portuguese without realizing it. Telling him how beautiful he was, how good he made her feel.

  She skated her palms over his chest. His skin was heated, a little sweaty. She fingered his nipples, and his breath hitched.

  She leaned down to rub her breasts over his chest. The wiry hair abraded the sensitive tips. Electricity jolted through her.

  She closed her eyes, drinking it in.

  This. She hungered for this.

  Not just the pleasure, but the closeness. She’d been so starved for touch.

  Wonder filled her, a wonder touched with sorrow. How could she have found this beautiful, aching closeness only to let it go? Let him go?

  She slid her arms be
neath his hard shoulders, set her face against his.

  Mine, she thought fiercely.

  She would save him. And then somehow, she’d force both their clans to accept them as mates.

  At that moment, it seemed not just possible, but inevitable.

  He moved her so her breasts were over his face and latched his mouth onto her nipple. A single hard suck and she was lost, sobbing out his name.

  “Take it.” He thrust inside her, firm and deep. Moved his mouth to her other nipple to suck that, too.

  Mine, she thought with each hard stroke. Mine, mine, mine.

  Her blood heated, flushing her face, pounding in her ears. She dug her nails into his shoulders and with a helpless sigh, shot over the edge.

  He released her nipple to capture her mouth. Devouring her while he thrust into her, over and over, until he pushed up hard in her and stilled. Tearing his mouth from hers, he buried his face in her hair.

  “Rosana,” he growled against her ear, and came.

  7

  Sometime after midnight, Adric jerked awake. He glanced around, shaking off a very pleasant dream. Rosana was sprawled on top of him, her breasts soft against his chest, her head tucked into the curve of his neck.

  His mouth curved. So that part of the dream had been true.

  After they’d made love the second time, they’d napped and then taken a hot shower together. Just a shower—he’d wanted to give her time to heal. But he’d never had such an erotic shower. They’d washed each other from head to toe, intermixed with slow, sensuous kisses, until the hot water ran out.

  They’d toweled each other dry—and then she’d gone to her knees on the bathroom rug before him. Her mouth was warm and wet, and while a part of him registered her lack of experience, the rest of him muttered who the fuck cares and enjoyed.

  Then it was his turn. He led her back to the bed and feasted on her, reveling in her sexy little sounds of pleasure and how she wriggled and bucked beneath his tongue and hands.

  By then it was dinnertime. She put on her snug red jacket and those fuck-me boots, and he took her to a restaurant overlooking the canal. They had local beers and grilled rockfish as the stars appeared, one by one, over the canal’s night-dark waters.

  When they returned to the B&B, he had her strip and then helped her step back into the boots while she watched with those wide, ocean-blue eyes. They’d explored all the ways a man and woman could enjoy each other without full penetration before falling asleep, bodies entwined.

  Now she snuggled closer, murmuring his name. He tightened his arms around her, nape tingling uneasily.

  What had awoken him?

  The outside door opened. Footsteps started up the stairs to the main floor. Three people, from the sound of it.

  He lifted his head, straining to hear something. Anything. But they were dead silent. Yeah, it was late, but surely a group of three would speak at least a few words among themselves?

  They reached the main floor and rapped on the door to Mark’s private apartment.

  “What the hell?” the innkeeper demanded in rough, just-woke-up tones.

  “Where are they? The fada.” A man’s voice.

  Adric tensed. Easing out from beneath Rosana, he crept to the door, setting his ear against the wood.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark returned.

  “Yes,” the man said in a cold voice, “you do.”

  “Get your hands off me,” Mark snarled. “You’ve got five seconds to get out of here or I’m calling the cop—”

  The thud of flesh against flesh was followed by an “oof.”

  “Talk,” the man said.

  The only sound was the harsh scrape of Mark’s breathing.

  Adric whirled into motion. “Rosana,” he hissed.

  She was already sitting up. Scrambling out of bed, she whispered, “What’s the matter?”

  He tossed her some clothes. “We’re leaving,” he replied in an equally soft voice. “Someone’s asking about us.”

  She froze. “My brothers?”

  He shook his head. The Rock Run men might be hard-assed S.O.B.s, but they wouldn’t beat a man just for renting the two of them a room. No, they’d kick Adric’s ass instead.

  “I don’t think so. Now, move.”

  She hurriedly pulled on her jeans and shirt while he dragged on his own clothes. He shoved an iron dagger into his back pocket. Iron was the only sure way to kill a fae.

  “No shoes,” he told her. “We may have to run for it.”

  “Got it.” She crammed her things into the canvas bag, leaving her barefoot in the Henley and jeans. He silently blessed the tight operation run by Dion. She’d clearly been trained how to respond in an emergency.

  “This way.” Rosana jerked her head at the sliding doors. “Down the back stairs.”

  He gave her a silent thumbs-up.

  In the hall outside their room, footsteps could be heard. Another person ran lightly up to the third floor.

  Apparently, Mark hadn’t given up their location. Adric would owe him for that. He just hoped the human would be alive to collect.

  Rosana slung her bag over a shoulder and eased open the sliding door. He grabbed his duffel bag and followed, quietly closing the door behind him. Hopefully, that would buy them a little time before their pursuers realized they were no longer in the B&B.

  Rosana ignored the stairs to sling a long leg over the wood railing. She worked her way hand-over-hand down the outside of the stairs before dropping the last few feet to the grass. The entire descent took five seconds, tops.

  Despite the danger, his mouth edged up as he swung over the railing and dropped to the grass beside her. Damn, he liked how the woman’s mind worked.

  They glided around the enclosed outdoor shower and halted against the far wall where they couldn’t be seen from the B&B.

  Rosana set her mouth to his ear. “They’ll be watching the parking lot.”

  He nodded. Why the fuck hadn’t he parked the rental car somewhere else? But he’d believed they were safe. No one knew his exact location, not even Marjani.

  Had he’d been followed from Baltimore?

  He peered around the corner. The lights in their room came on, visible through the cracks in the wood slats. His nostrils flared, but he couldn’t pick up a scent from that far away.

  If only he knew who, exactly, was after them—fada or fae? Because a fada could track the two of them even if they ran.

  His neck crawled. The backyard was too small, nothing but a narrow strip of grass between the B&B and the tall fence surrounding it. They had to get out of here before the bastards came looking for them.

  He jerked his chin in the direction of the beach. “We’ll go over the fence,” he whispered in Rosana’s ear, “and stick to the backyards. Make our way to the bay. You can go into the water, and I’ll shift to my cougar and run along the beach. They won’t be able to track us in the water.”

  Her mouth formed a shocked O. “You think they’re fada? Not humans robbing the place?”

  He shook his head grimly. “They asked Mark where the fada were.”

  And even if they hadn’t, his itching nape told him he and Rosana were in danger. He trusted that itch. During the Darktime, it had saved his life more than once.

  “Once you’re in the water, head for Henlopen,” he told her. “I’ll meet you at the park.”

  The Cape Henlopen State Park was a good mile away, but in his cougar form, he could sprint as fast as fifty miles per hour. It would take Rosana a little longer to swim there, but unless one of their pursuers was a water fada, she’d be safer in the ocean than with him.

  Not even a wolf could track her in the water.

  She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “You want us to split up?” she whispered back.

  “Just for a few minutes—maybe half an hour. I’ll meet you at the Point. I’ll be on the beach that faces the Breakwater Lighthouse. You know it?”

  “Yeah, but—” />
  Footsteps on the balcony above made her snap shut her mouth. As one, they shrank deeper into the shadows.

  Adric risked a look. The man was scanning the wetlands behind the B&B. Tall and dark-skinned, and dressed in a black leather jacket and pants, he would’ve blended into the shadows if not for his cropped silver hair. His pointed ears stood out in stark relief against his pale hair.

  A fae, then. But Adric had been expecting a night fae, and the only fae with such light hair were ice fae.

  His brow furrowed. What the fuck was an ice fae doing in Lewes, Delaware?

  The fae turned his gaze on the backyard. Adric dropped his eyes so the fae wouldn’t see them glowing in the dark.

  “Ice fae,” he mouthed at Rosana.

  She gulped. Then she raised her left arm, the one with the silver bracelet. “Protection charm,” she whispered back.

  He nodded, relieved.

  He fingered his quartz. A few months ago, he’d stumbled upon a new use for his Gift of hypnotism. He could somehow induce people to look right past him. It was similar to a cloaking spell, something the fae charged an arm and a leg for—if they’d even sell it to a fada.

  But he’d never tried to cloak a second person as well. He wasn’t even sure if he could. Plus, it drained energy at a rapid rate, energy he might need to shift.

  Still, if it came down to it, he’d try. He was not letting that fae bastard get his hands on Rosana. At least she had that protection charm.

  “See anything, Jon?” A woman’s cool, aristocratic voice.

  “No. But that doesn’t mean they’re not out here.”

  Adric risked another look as the woman joined Jon on the balcony. She was tall and curvy with long hair the color of moonlight, her scent a mix of silver and something acrid.

  Every hair on his nape rose. Only a night fae had that distinctive scent of metal and decay. His heart clenched with pure, unadulterated hate.

  But she wasn’t a pureblood. No, that silver-blond hair spoke of an ice-fae ancestor, and the only ice fae/night fae mix Adric knew was Lady Blaer.

  The woman who’d put Marjani in a cage.

  His upper lip peeled back in a silent snarl. He wanted badly to sneak another look, but night fae could see in the dark as well as cats.

 

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