It was a long and lazy joining, a coming together of souls uniting in love. Dagon undressed himself first, refusing to allow her to remove her clothes. Undressing her, he insisted, was part of the pleasure. And he did it with deliberate slowness.
He first removed the pins from her hair. He wanted it free and flowing around her face, framing her beauty. He then worked her wool dress up and over the curves and mounds it tenaciously clung to. A black lace bra and bikini panties greeted him, and he smiled with eager anticipation as his hands reached out to caress the black lace that cupped her breasts so intimately.
He ran an anxious finger over the swirl of lace, teasing the nipple to a hard inviting pebble that he could slip between his lips into his mouth for his teeth to nip and torment.
And she responded as he knew she would, melting against him and moaning her desire.
His hands stroked the narrow curve of her waist, moving over her hips to snuggle between her legs, which she eagerly parted for him. His fingers trailed over the veil of black lace that prevented further intimacy, and he smiled as his mouth continued to feed on her pert nipples and his fingers proceeded to invade the lace.
With deliberate laziness he slipped a finger beneath the thin material and teased the already sensitive flesh to chaotic senselessness. Her warm liquid spilled into his hand, and he shivered at the invitation she presented. Her skin was warm, her scent alluring, and he, hard and ready to take the plunge. He wanted more this time; where before they had shared magical moments, he wanted this to be a magical loving that they both would remember in the years to come.
With one snap he released her bra, and with anxious hands he picked her up and lowered her to the bed, divesting her of the black panties that invited him with the scent of her.
She reached out for him, but he pushed her hands away.
He needed to taste her, to drink deep of her flavor and satisfy the lusty quench that ached inside him.
Sarina gripped the bedposts and arched her body when his tongue invaded her with a sharpness that shocked and pleasured her. He had tasted her many times before, and he had always pleased her but never, never with the intensity he now displayed.
He went deep, making her shudder with each forceful thrust, and his fingers followed suit teasing the small budding flesh that was certain to bring her to a furious climax.
But he refused to allow her release. Each time she teetered near the edge, he snapped her back, extending her pleasure, intensifying her need, and whispering his intentions.
She begged and pleaded and he promised, he swore he would let her climax, insisted she do so, and then he would torment her again and again, until again her pleas softly echoed in the room.
Finally he kept his promise and with a scream of pleasure and her body surging in an arc on the bed, her hands gripping frantically to the sheets, he made her come in a burst of startlingly light and shuddering climax. His name resonated on her lips and when she thought it over, he moved over her, his body claiming hers in a soft intimacy that had her melting against him.
How could she want more when he had so thoroughly satisfied her? And yet she ached for him to fill her with the strength of him, and she moved her naked, damp body against his invitingly.
Dagon worried his need was too great, his desire too strong, and he didn’t wish to hurt her, and yet his overwhelming need had him locking his fingers tightly with hers as he slipped comfortably over her body, licking his way up and over her highly sensitive skin, to circle her swelling breasts with a teasing tongue and claim her hard nipples with a rough bite that had her wincing with pleasure.
His own need had been held in check far too long, and sliding a leg down hers he parted her for himself. He penetrated her with a sudden sharpness that had her calling out his name.
He was frantic in his need for her, his rhythm was forceful, his thrusts deep, and his love potent. He felt the heat of her wrap around him and tighten with every plunge, and he sank more deeply within her.
Reason vanished, time stood still, and only they existed, only their driving love and their need to unite and become one forever and always. This was magic in its purest form, this was the light of life, the continuing cycle, and together they rode to breathtaking heights and shattered, spiraling to earth in a maddening descent.
“Dagon,” Sarina said on a satisfied sigh and wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding her tightly to him, never wanting him to leave her.
He in turn relished the snug heat of her intimately cradling him and never wanted to part from her. They remained wrapped around each other, kissing lightly, whispering softly, and repeatedly declaring their love for each other until finally their damp bodies protested with the shivers.
Dagon immediately secured them beneath the covers, tucking her in his arms. “Warm enough.”
“Your arms never fail to warm or protect me. And,” she said with a playful nip to his chin, “I like your wordless spell.”
“Then we will practice it often.”
“I am at your mercy,” she volunteered.
Her words caused his worry to surface. “Speaking of mercy, your sister seemed to lack it when casting the spell on you. I realize that I, actually my love for you, has fulfilled part of the spell, but it has yet to be completed, and she did set a time limit.”
“The last of the spell calls for me to perform my best feat, which means I must outshine my sister’s magic or all is lost.”
He hoisted her over him so that she could stretch out full upon him, and he rested his arms around her waist and asked the one question that troubled him. “If your own skills remain dormant how could you possibly succeed?”
He felt her sigh against his chest. “I have asked myself the same question time and time again.”
“Do you think she never intended for you to break the spell?”
Sarina raised her head to look at him and to his surprise she wore a smile. “Though it may not seem it, Tempest has a big heart and would never cause hurt or harm to anyone.”
“Then answer me this,” he said with obvious worry.
“What are the consequences if you fail to fulfill this spell?”
Her smile faded, his concern grew, and her answer came reluctantly. “I must forfeit my love and return with her.”
He swiftly lifted her off him and onto her back, leaning over her with a look so terribly lethal that it frightened her.
His voice was sharp, his tone adamant. “You think I will allow this?”
Sadly she admitted, “You have no choice.”
“No choice?” he all but screamed.
Sarina raised a tender hand to his face. “Her powers far surpass yours.”
“You expect me to accept this?”
“I expect you to understand.”
His laugh was more of a sneer. “Understand that I am to relinquish the woman I love because her sister cast a selfish spell?”
Her hand fell away. “Tempest is not selfish.”
“Perhaps you should take a better look at your sister.”
“She does nothing without reason.”
“And she had good reason to cast a vindictive spell,” he insisted.
“I don’t believe that.”
He looked at her incredulously and shook his head. “Perhaps then you have an explanation.”
“She was upset and gave no thought to her actions.”
“Then she can damn well erase the spell.”
“I don’t think she will do that.”
Her soft blue eyes damp with tears prevented any further outburst from him, and he leaned his forehead to hers. “I love you, Sarina, and I don’t intend to lose you. Somehow we will find a way out of this.”
She found his lips and kissed him softly. “But promise me that you will not grow upset if you cannot rescue me from this dilemma.”
A low rumbling laugh followed his smile. “Heroes always rescue maidens in distress.”
She giggled. “I think you have the wrong time period.”
“A hero is a hero no matter the place or time.”
She draped her arms around his neck. “Then there is nothing to fear. You will save me.”
“Always, Sarina,” he said on a whisper. “I will always save you, on that you have nothing to fear.”
Her hands slipped down along his back, and her smile was sly and suggestive. “Then let me reward you now for your gallantry.”
Dagon left Sarina sleeping contentedly the next morning. It was early, dawn had barely risen, and though he had slept barely four hours, he was wide awake and eager to greet the day. There was much to do and much to consider, and his first consideration was that he needed advice from people who possessed more powerful skills than his.
He had always thought his energy superior to many witches and on many occasions that proved to be true, but now—now he felt inadequate to help Sarina. And he did not like the feeling.
A hero never failed in his duties to protect, and he had not failed her to this point, but then the rescues had been simple. This rescue was not, and he would seek whatever assistance necessary to make certain the spell was fulfilled. The castle was quiet as he descended the steps to the dining room, and he thought of the many years he had spent here. There were some troublesome years, times when he had to hide his abilities and be careful whom he called friend. And times when he watched the innocent suffer because of ignorance. Through those dark times he had always remained true to his heritage, and it had hurt him and so many other witches to watch their heritage be defiled and labeled evil.
To avoid persecution they had to remain silent and endure the degradation of their beliefs. But in their silence they grew strong, and in the ensuing years mortals began to discover the light, slowly, one by one, and things continued to change for the better. And it would be here in this promising new world were his children would grow and flourish, if he could rescue Sarina.
He simply could not understand why her sister would cast such a damaging spell. If what Sarina said of Tempest was true, that she would hurt or harm no one, which actually was the way of the witch, why then cast this spell?
Dagon entered the dining room with a shake of his head.
“Tempest has that effect on people,” Sydney said with a smile from where she sat at the table. “Come, have coffee and talk with me, for I depart soon.”
A hefty sigh followed Dagon to the table. He leaned over and kissed Sydney’s cheek before taking his seat at the head of the table. “Just when I need you the most, you leave me.”
She patted his hand in reassurance. “Confidence in yourself was something you never lacked.”
“I never went up against the Ancient One.”
“But it is not you who will face her.”
“You’re wrong,” he said firmly. “Sarina and I are one. What one faces, so does the other.”
Sydney smiled, pleased by his response. “Then between the both of you failure is impossible.”
“You saw her powers,” Dagon reminded. “And you also know her better than most. What can you tell me about her that might help us?”
Sydney sipped her coffee before answering. “She is an excellent teacher.”
“You could have fooled me,” he said with a laugh. “For a minute there the other night I thought the castle was about to crumble at my feet in ruins.”
“At least you have retained your humor.”
“I do not wish to upset Sarina with my own concerns, though the situation troubles me more than I care to admit.”
He looked to Sydney and produced a charming smile that never failed to please a woman. “And, my dear, you know how much I hate to lose.”
“Turn that smile on Tempest and she may just melt.”
“Melt? I would say she is too icy to melt easily.”
Sydney scolded with a shake of her finger. “You lack full awareness because of your love for Sarina.”
“Are you referring to the old mortal saying that love is blind?”
“Mortals do not understand that it is awareness they are blind to. So much sits right in front of their eyes, and yet they fail to see because they fail to look.”
“Okay, I get it. You’re telling me that I’m not looking clearly.”
“You were always my prize student,” Sydney said with a pleased smile.
“Who needs reminding of his lessons?”
“Who knows his lessons but has not called on them for assistance.”
“My worry over losing the woman I love is paramount on my mind.”
“Which negates necessary action on your part,” Sydney reminded.
“I sought your help,” he insisted, feeling like a foolish schoolboy who failed to learn his lessons well. “At least I took a step.”
“I am glad you sought my help, but remember it is your actions and Sarina’s that will prove to be your best defense.”
“How about love? Can it not conquer all?”
“It depends on the truth of the love.”
“Our love is true,” he argued.
She lay a gentle hand over his where it rested on the table. “Do you truly know love, Dagon?”
He was about to shout his love for Sarina at the top of his lungs when he suddenly calmed himself and spoke gently. “Now I do.”
“Then rely on it to help you.”
He wasn’t quite sure he understood her message, but he would think on her words. Presently, he wished more information on Tempest. Sebastian once told him that you could never gather enough information on someone. That after a while you see a pattern that offers you more exact information than you thought possible.
He was looking for that pattern. “Tell me more of what you know of the Ancient One.”
“She is wise.”
“She is a good teacher and she is wise. Why did I see a different person?” He raised a hand to prevent her response.
“Don’t tell me, I failed to look.”
“Very good, I taught you well.”
“Evidently not well enough. I did not see.”
“You did not look. Tell me what you saw when you met Tempest.”
His response was quick. “A beautiful witch with an attitude.”
Sydney laughed. “She can be temperamental.”
“Why?” he asked, suddenly realizing that it was a small bit of information that might prove invaluable.
“Even the wisest witch can grow upset.”
Curiosity grabbed hold and Dagon leaned forward to rest his arms on the table. “But why would she be upset by a request for a simple introduction? I am sure requests to meet with her are common, and she has the option to refuse any or all of them. So why be upset over one she had agreed to?”
“That I cannot answer,” Sydney said honestly. “I can only tell you that she becomes most upset when—”
Her pause and tightened brow had him waiting anxiously for her to finish.
“When she thinks she has failed in helping another.”
“Helping?” he asked confused. “She certainly didn’t appear to be helping her sister last night or by casting the spell over her.”
“Perhaps the answer is in the spell.”
“The spell seems obvious.”
“Sometimes the most obvious are the ones we fail to fully comprehend.”
“I will keep that in mind,” he said. “Do you think the love she lost could have anything to do with the reason she cast the spell? She was angry at Sarina for predicting her fate.”
“But Sarina did not actually predict her fate, she merely warned her of his arrival, not of the consequences.”
Dagon nodded slowly. “You’re right. I didn’t think of it that way. She never did tell her the outcome of the reunion, only that they would once again meet. So her fate will be of her own making.”
“Which upsets most people when they realize their fate is actually in their own hands.”
“But a wise witch should know better.”
“Perhaps she does, perhaps she realized more than you think.”
“Now that remark puzzles me. Want to explain it?” he asked hopefully.
Sydney smiled sweetly. “How will you learn if I give you all the answers?”
“How did I know you were going to say that?”
“Because you are aware?” she asked teasingly.
“Awareness,” he said with a shake of his head. “What am I not aware of?”
“What is right in front of you.”
“I suppose you think that is a sufficient answer.”
“An accurate one,” she corrected, “and one that you would be wise to understand. Now, if you have no more questions, it is time for me to take my leave.”
“One more question,” he said anxiously.
Sydney remained patient.
“Can you tell me what would make a wise old witch like Tempest fall in love with a warlock? I cannot understand the attraction or the insane reasoning behind such a strange relationship. Or is it the fact that love is blind rings true?”
“I can only tell you what I know of Tempest. I have never known her to be blind in any situation. I have seen her face adversity that would make most witches crumble in fright, and I have watched her defend and protect the weakest of creatures with great danger to herself. She is a woman strong in her convictions and powerful in her energy.”
“Then could it possibly have been the power of the warlock’s energy that drew them together?”
“His power was dark; hers is light.”
“But wouldn’t she wish to cast light on the darkness? And strangely enough, doesn’t the darkness attract?”
Sydney was honest in her response. “I must agree with you on both. Where darkness exists Tempest would attempt to bring light and yes, the darkness does attract many and many are captivated by its intoxicating essence. It is the wise ones who see the truth in the darkness and attempt to cast light.”
“The Tempest you speak of doesn’t fit the Tempest I met.”
Sydney folded her white linen napkin on the table. “You did not look with open eyes. You saw what you wanted to see. You were prepared to battle, to defend your love before she arrived, and yet it was you who invited her into your home.”
“I was not rude to her.”
“In a manner you were—” She raised a hand to silence his protest. “You were not truthful with her when she arrived, and she understood that and became defensive.”
“I did not lie.”
“You did not speak the truth. You did not tell her the real reason why you wished an introduction.”
“That would have been rude to tell her that I thought I might be interested in her as a lifemate but changed my mind when a bumbling witch entered my life.”
“It would have been the truth, and the Ancient One respects the truth.”
Dagon felt thoroughly chastised. “My manners disappointed you.”
“You can only disappoint yourself, and I suspect if you gave it thought, you would realize your error and find a way to correct it.”
“I don’t think Tempest would be interested in an apology from me.”
Sydney stood and tapped a finger to his temple. “You don’t think, dear boy, at least not clearly in this matter. Now you have asked enough questions, and it is time for me to take my leave.”
Dagon stood, suddenly feeling sad over her departure.
Sydney pressed a warm, loving kiss to his cheek. “You take care and enjoy the holidays with Sarina. And do not worry, all will turn out well.”
“You have confidence in me,” he said with a charming smile and a generous hug.
Sydney gave his shoulder a playful slap. “I have confidence in Tempest.”