| |
Tarrien
When Indie stares at me with those amazing emerald eyes, I lose my train of thought. Why can I not stop fantasizing about ripping off her tee-shirt and those horrible track pants? The fact that she must have purposefully grabbed the most shapeless things from her closet does not hide the sexy curves of her body, nor the deliciously smooth pale skin on her neck that cries out to be kissed. Even her feet, bare and ruby-tipped with those perfectly manicured nails, scream sexy.
Control. I need to regain control of my runaway body, before it gets both of us into trouble. Remember your duties as a winter warrior.
My mind eventually finds its way back to consider her question. She wants to know what is going on, and what to do about it.
Just as I open my mouth to answer, the tip of her tongue darts out and moistens her lips and I lose focus once again. The heat of desire swells my loins and I shift uncomfortably, wondering if she knows the effect her proximity has on me. Why does this hybrid cause my brain to switch off and my cock to charge up to the ready as if plugged into an imaginary electrical socket?
If I were vampire—one of those descended from the blood of Dracule—I could perhaps understand it. The scent of hybrid fae is as delicious to a vamp as a drug of addiction. But I’m fae, not vampire. She’s half-human, half-fae. Her scent shouldn’t send every nerve ending in my body into raptures. Her delectable, exotic, slightly citrus scent that fills my nostrils and chases coherent thought away.
I release an involuntary groan.
“Tarrien.” Her voice whispers across my skin with the power of a true banshee. She might be only half-and-half, but this woman knows how to wield her influence. It is not so surprising, I guess, given how many years she must have trained for her role on stage. A trained singer, who holds the power of a banshee in her heart?
My breath huffs out shakily. How can I resist such a combination?
I lean in toward her. “You smell like home. Everything I love about home.”
Did those words just come out of my mouth? I sound ridiculous. Do I even care, though, when I am about to claim her as mine? I reach my fingers into her hair and clutch her head, steadying her to be ready for my onslaught.
“Home, here?” she whispers.
“No. Faerie.”
Something deep in her expression flickers. Something wounded and afraid. I hold myself motionless instead of going in for the kiss. She is trying hard not to show it, whatever it is, but there is more going on here than Indie is letting on.
“I intend to kiss you, Indie. But I won’t, if you do not wish it.”
She hesitates, worrying at her bottom lip with perfect white teeth. Just as I am about to release a disappointed sigh and pull away, she darts in and kisses me full on the mouth.
I forget everything but the feel of her lips on mine. Soft and sweet and yet demanding, all at once. Even though it was my intention to kiss her, the bold move takes me aback and it is several moments before I return the kiss.
When I do, it is as if everything around us disappears and we are the only two in the universe. I part her lips and taste her mouth, exploring her with my mouth and tongue, and allowing her to explore me in return. She tastes both sweet and enticing. Like her scent, there is a hint of citrus on her lips, underlaid with a sexy musk flavor that I sense is completely her own.
She releases a tiny moan that vibrates in her throat and carries upward until it enters me. The sound is so enticing it drags an answering groan from deep within me.
Her essence surrounds me. I am drowning in it. I cannot get enough.
Eventually, with apparent reluctance, she pulls back and away.
“That was...unexpected.” Her voice is breathless, her lips lush and full from our intense and prolonged connection. She touches a hand to her throat as if trying to contain the frantic beat of her heart. She can’t hide it. I can see its wild tattoo—the frenetic beat matching my own—until her other hand flutters up and over her throat too. The effect of our kiss on her pulse rate disappears from my view.
I push a stray lock of hair off her face, my fingers itching to explore more of her body.
“Unexpected and delightful. I am not overly familiar with...this, Indie.” I capture one of her hands and move it down to hover above my groin. “It is not often a winter warrior’s path in life to enjoy the fruits of the physical.”
Her fingers spasm in mine, the movement bringing her into contact, ever-so-lightly, with my burgeoning flesh. My breath hitches in my throat before I can control the response, and her eyes, when she raises her gaze to mine, are wide and a little confused.
“Please tell me you’re not a virgin, Tarrien.”
My cheeks heat. How is it that this woman creates heat everywhere, all the way from my cock to my face?
“Of course not. I have had many women, over the years, but I am four hundred and twenty-three years old, so the word many does not necessarily mean frequent.”
I cannot believe I am having this discussion. There are far more important things to talk about than my sexual prowess, or lack thereof.
Her beautiful wide mouth quirks in a grin. “Good. I don’t think I could cope with a virgin warrior. Nor a promiscuous one. Sounds like you have just the right amount of innocence and experience.”
Before I realize what is happening, her hand slips out of mine and cradles my cock in a clear invitation for more. The warmth of her touch leaches through my jeans and a strange noise escapes me before I can stifle it. Not quite a groan and not quite a growl; somewhere halfway between.
“Do not do that, banshee, unless you truly want it.”
“I do want it. I need it.” Her tone is fierce, and again I get the impression there is something she is leaving unsaid, but when her fingers spasm again I lose what little thought process I have left and lunge for her, crushing her body beneath mine and capturing her lips in another passionate kiss. This time, I am determined the kiss will be mine to claim, not the other way around.
Energy sizzles along every nerve path in my body and I groan again, deep down in my throat. She moans in return, a tiny sound that enters my body through our kiss, in a rush of sweet breath. The sound is all the more sensual for its quietness. Her tongue dances with mine and our lips move into a rhythm that directs all the blood in my body down into my groin. The heavy ache is almost unbearable. Lust is not supposed to feel as intense as this, is it? All heat and agony and ecstasy.
How can I possibly resist the lure of Indie’s warmth?
When at last we break apart, my breath rattles harshly in my throat. It is as if being near her has sucked all the air out of the room. I need more, so much more, than this. I need everything Indie has to give.
“I’m a winter warrior, sworn to maintain distance.” It is a token effort at resistance. We both know I don’t really mean it.
“Hmm,” she says playfully. “Then I’ll just have to melt that ice around your heart, won’t I?”
“I think you already have.”
I don’t care that I might compromise my duty. Not in this moment. I only care that she, too, is panting hard, her flutters of breath puffing out with every rasping exhale. I love that her state of excitement is solely due to me. I love that she seems to be as affected by our proximity as I am.
“I don’t know why, but I’m desperate to have sex with you.” Her voice is both puzzled and erotic, tempting in a way I never expected.
I cannot believe this beautiful, warm, passionate creature is Lady Renna’s daughter. The two could not be more different. I shuck that thought out of my head. I do not wish to think of that woman while this exotic beauty is offering herself to me like this.
“And I with you,” I respond, before either of us changes our mind. “It is not a good idea; I suspect we both know that. And yet I cannot seem to concentrate on anything but the thought of sinking my hardness into your warm, sweet body and taking you to the heights of pleasure and beyond. I want to make love with you, Indie.”
She smiles then, and stands up, holding out her hand for me to take.
“I love the quaint way you talk. Come into the bedroom, Tarrien. Let’s make love. That sounds so much nicer than simply having sex.”
My heart jumps, and kicks up the pace ten-fold. I take her proffered hand and allow her to lead me back into the bedroom. Her king-size bed dwarfs the tiny space, but I am not expecting to spend much time on the floor. She turns and faces me, and drops my hand so she can shuck off her old tee-shirt. Her naked breasts are as full and as spectacular as their sensual promise in her tight red dress when she was up on that stage, and my already-firm cock hardens even more.
Her gaze drifts downward and a seductive grin hovers about her lips.
“You’ve risen to the occasion very impressively.” Slowly, she starts to lower her tracksuit pants, wriggling her hips from side to side in a sensual striptease that takes far too much time to complete.
I arch a brow.
“I have a better technique than that,” I tease, and wave my hand. The remainder of her clothing, and mine, disappear into the ether. “That’s better. Don’t you think?”
The look of shock on her face lends an edge of joy to the situation.
“Well,” she says. “Well. That’s not a bad technique at all.”
We stand face to face, completely naked. She is utterly beautiful, all curves and pale skin and luscious long legs. Her mound is bare and I cannot take my eyes from it. That is, until she shifts backward and sits on the edge of the bed. The movement brings her breasts back into my focus.
A waft of her delicious scent floats over me and I inhale deeply, enjoying the way it makes me feel decadent and carefree.
My spirits lift. Carefree is not a state to which I am frequently accustomed. And it feels damn good.
I advance toward Indie and she lays down and raises her arms above her head. The action ensures I have an uninterrupted view of those beautiful breasts. Their rosy peaks are hard and pointing upward. I can’t wait to taste her flesh.
Then her legs drop, one to each side, opening up that perfect mound to fully expose the pink lips of her pussy, her swollen bud and the entrance to her channel. The sight almost brings me to climax, right there in front of her.
“By the gods, you are so incredibly sexy, Indie.” My voice is hoarse, but for once I do not care whether or not she can see the extent of her effect on me. I love that almost choked-up sensation that closes my throat as I imagine seating my ready flesh at her channel entrance and thrusting hard and deep within the tight embrace of her body.
But first, I have to taste her.
I kneel by the bed and she pushes her hips up toward me. I bend my head and connect with her pussy lips in the most intimate kiss in the world, sucking her bud into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. I have never tasted anything more divine. I slide my tongue down her slit to find her channel entrance, dipping my tongue briefly inside her hot body and then out again, loving the slick wetness and the heat. She bucks beneath my mouth, moaning and gasping, and I return to attend her clitoris again, working it hard while I slide a finger gently inside her body.
She is as tight and wet as I imagined. I cannot wait to seat myself properly inside her.
Her bucking and writhing increases in tempo and around my finger I feel the tell-tale tightening and clenching of muscle wall as she nears climax. My own body is fighting hard to maintain control. There is no ice left whatsoever around my heart in the melting pot of warmth that surrounds us. The heat in my groin is a furnace begging for release.
She begins to spasm as an orgasm takes her, and cries out in a guttural shriek as her channel clutches and releases around my thrusting finger. Her body shudders beneath me.
I climb up onto the bed and balance over her on my hands and knees, staring down into her eyes. They are half-closed in the aftermath of her release, and yet still the brilliant emerald color peeks out from beneath her lowered lashes. No hazel left. Passion has burned it all away and left the brilliance of a precious stone in its wake.
“I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you right this instant.” I bend my elbows and take one of her perfect breasts into my mouth, suckling on the puckered nipple until a tiny cry releases from her mouth.
“Oh yes, Tarrien. That feels so good. So good!”
I cross to her other breast and suckle some more, pinching the first nipple between my thumb and forefinger and twirling the nub as I lick and suck at the other one.
She reignites beneath me, moving more languorously this time round, and I lower my hips until the head of my organ grazes her clitoris. She arches up and into me, the action firming the connection and drawing a gasp from my own throat. She feels so warm and slick. Another of her hip thrusts ensues, and I can’t contain the groan that erupts.
“Gods, Indie. I want to be inside you so badly.”
“What are you waiting for, then?” Her breathing is harsh and uneven. Encouraged by another nudge upward with her hips, I slide my organ down her slit, enjoying the heat and the slick wetness, until I am exactly where I want to be, right at the entrance to her body.
I drive hard, sliding into her in one quick movement. It is as if our bodies are made for one another; we fit so well. Her pussy lips and the muscles deep within her channel grab tight. Her legs wrap around my buttocks and hold me fast. I bend and capture her mouth in a brief but passionate kiss, wondering if she enjoys the taste of herself on my lips, and then I cannot wait any longer. I begin to thrust in earnest.
She matches my rhythm and we gain momentum, escalating quickly in the age-old dance of love. Her moans mingle with mine, until finally, I feel her tense even further, holding perfectly still for a second or two as if poised on the edge of a precipice. Then she tumbles over into a second orgasm. Her body arches beneath me and she begins to shudder and tremble. A scream releases from her, muffled against my shoulder.
The sound tips me over the edge, too, and an unintelligible roar bursts from my throat as I release my seed in a rush. Heat and wetness, and a deep sense of connectedness in that moment, warms me right to my core.
I collapse against her, spent, and then roll us onto our sides, wanting to remain seated deep inside her but not wanting my weight to crush her.
Perspiration coats my skin, and hers. It takes several seconds before my breathing even attempts to return to normal.
She grins at me, sleepily, and reaches up a hand to caress my cheek. “That was pretty damn good, faerie man.”
So much for ice. This woman has melted everything within a ten-foot radius of my heart.
I turn my head into her caress and manage to land a gentle kiss on her palm. “It was pretty damn good, little banshee.”
We lay in sated silence. On my part I am content just to hold her, and from the way she curls her warm body into mine and then settles with a sigh, I believe she feels the same sense of peace.
I wonder at the joy of feeling heat both within my body, and outside it. When I have had sex in the past, it has always been an act that takes place in the moment. An act that is over as quickly as it starts. Solstice festivals in Faerie—when many of the Winter Court’s inhabitants gather to celebrate the change of season—are highly conducive to sex, but rarely to intimacy.
This—lying here with Indie wrapped in my arms—feels like intimacy. Against my usually wintery form, her curves feel good. They feel just right, in fact. I tighten my embrace around her and she shifts within my arms and gazes up at me. Surprisingly, her expression turns serious and reflects a hint of sadness.
I raise myself up on one elbow. “What is it? Did you not...enjoy...I thought...?”
Confusion rushes through me. Was I so caught up in my own need for Indie that I did something wrong? Admittedly I am not hugely experienced in the ways of the flesh, but I thought it went rather well. Did she not attain as much pleasure from it as me?
“Of course, I enjoyed it, Tarrien. Could you not tell? Two orgasms in the space of a few minutes...” She grins at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“You still seem sad. What is it?”
Even as I ask the question, everything that happened earlier rushes back into my mind. Of course, she must be upset. How could I have forgotten the attack?
As a fae warrior, I am trained in battle and even expect it, at times. Indie, on the other hand, is a theatre performer well entrenched in the human world. In fact, she seems to have embraced her human half as much as it is possible to do so, while carrying banshee blood. What occurred tonight would have been so foreign to her it is actually a miracle she was able to put it aside at all.
“That was insensitive,” I say. “Given what happened earlier.”
“It’s not that. Well, I guess it is, but not how you probably think. It’s just me, overthinking things. I have a tendency to do that sometimes,” she says. “But I was lying here wondering, is it death, do you think, that led us to do this? To have sex when we hardly know one another and have just been through something really...horrific.”
She shudders, still tight in my arms.
“I was certainly not thinking about death when we...err...” I don’t quite know how to answer her. I was not expecting a question like that.
“I’m sorry, you probably think I’m nuts. Of course, I wasn’t thinking about it, either. What we just did was wonderful, Tarrien. But death and dying is a big part of my existence, whether I like it or not. Actually, I hate it.”
Pity for her plight rises in my chest. I suppose I never really considered what it might be like to be a banshee. Even a half-banshee.
Her eyes flash, as if she senses my pity and doesn’t want to accept it. “Experiencing the end, over and over again, is unfortunately my ‘normal’. Sex with you was definitely not what I intended when I asked you to bring me back home, Tarrien, but for some reason I needed it. Desperately. And I felt like it was especially because of what happened earlier, not in spite of it. Does that seem warped to you?”
“No. It makes a strange kind of sense, actually. As long as you don’t regret...”
“I don’t.”
I relax back against the pillow and stroke her face. “Do you think perhaps it is because sex is aimed toward life? Even...”
“Even though I’m a banshee hybrid and as such, cannot create life within my own body?”
Shock courses through me at her stiffly delivered words.
“No,” I say. “That is not what I was going to say.”
“Oh.” She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling. “I might be a bit over-sensitive about that fact. So, what were you going to say?”
“I was just going to say, even when it is just sex for pleasure’s sake, and not specifically for procreation. It definitely felt...well, life-giving in a way. Hot and warm and good. Though I hope I haven’t damaged my ability to protect and heal. I went against everything a winter warrior stands for, to couple with you.”
She flinches and then frowns, still staring at the ceiling and not at me, and I realize too late it is not the correct thing to have said. When it comes to Indie, I don’t ever seem able to get it right. She rolls slowly and deliberately away and out of my embrace, before sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest. The only disadvantage of a king-size bed is that there is room to separate fully, if one or both parties wish it.
I want to reach across the vast expanse between us and pull her back into my arms. But somehow, I seem to have hurt her feelings, even though I speak only the truth.
I try to explain more fully. “My father was a winter warrior, a long time ago. He gave in to the call of passion, and was banished from Faerie by King Tryppton for his misbehavior, along with his lover, Rhiannon. Queen of the Winter Court.”
“Jesus!”
“Yes.” I nod vigorously, glad that she seems to understand the depth of such a transgression. “So, you get it, then. What you and I just did was delightful, but it is not healthy, and it cannot happen again. I cannot risk diluting my powers. Not when I need them most.”
If I have sex with you, I risk not being able to protect you. I don’t verbalize that last thought, but I am certain she now understands.
Her mouth forms a thin line before she speaks. “Heaven forbid that sex with me would damage what you most hold dear. Yes, we must definitely never let it happen again, winter warrior. I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“Wait...but—”
“Now. I really want you to leave now.”
“I don’t understand.”
She turns away, presenting me with her back. Her naked back is as delectable as the front view. My loins tighten, despite the fact that my desire was sated only a short time earlier.
“That’s the problem, Tarrien,” she says. “Get out of my bed. And please get out of my house.”
Icicles instantly reform around my heart. I guess that answers the question about whether or not I caused permanent damage. Seems the heat was only temporary.
The look on Indie’s face as she finally half-turns and glares at me over her shoulder says I have overstayed my welcome. She raises a brow, as if waiting for me to comply with her demand.
“Fine.” I jump out of bed and dress quickly, ignoring her covert yet angry glances at my body. At least, I try to ignore them. It is as if she still wants me, but hates herself for the weakness. “I will return, banshee. This threat is only going to get bigger, and I am bound to protect you, whether either of us want that, or not.”
I touch my filigree ring and step toward the circle of silver mist that will take me out of this realm. Just before I leave, I turn back for one last look at Indigo, unsure what caused the sudden rift between us. Was it something I said? Does she think I regret what happened between us? I was so concerned that she might have regretted our act, that I didn’t consider she might be wondering the same. I wish I was more skilled in the ways of dealing with women and sexual relationships.
I open my mouth to say something—anything—but her green eyes shoot daggers and she shakes her head, just the once, before jumping up and running into her bathroom.
I close my mouth without speaking further and move into the mist. We didn’t talk properly about the risk to Indie’s life posed by the abominations, but we will. I am determined to return soon to ensure I fulfill my promise to Indie’s mother. Not for Renna’s sake, anymore, but for Indie.
Despite the fact that my relationship with the sexy banshee songstress has just turned as cold as my Winter Court home in Faerie, I will not allow her to succumb to the growing threat. I don’t know how I will keep her safe, but somehow, I have to. The alternative is unthinkable.
