Desired by Shadow (A Shadow Walkers Novel) (27 page)

Whispering into Robert’s ear, Maggie entwined her arms around his neck. “This is like Rhett carrying Scarlett off to bed. Are you going to ravish me, milord?”

“Aye, milady. I’m going to worship your delectable body from the tip of your head to the bottom of your sexy toes.” Kicking open the door to the bedroom and slamming it closed behind them, he strode to the bed and gently laid her across it like some pagan offering. A feast for his very soul.

Taking her foot in his hand, he removed her boots and socks. Next he undid the buttons on her pants and slid them down her hips, stopping to kiss each delectable hipbone. His fingers slid under the lace of her panties and with a rip, he tossed them to the floor, chuckling as she gasped. “By the gods, you are breathtaking.” A lovely blush suffused her skin turning the porcelain to pale pink. Unbuttoning her shirt, she leaned up to help him remove it, perfect breasts straining to leave their lace confinement. A flick of his wrist snapped the delicate fabric as the porcelain flesh burst free. Her breath was coming in small pants. Wanting to take her, he instead quickly stripped, padded over to the sideboard where a light dinner had been laid out and came back holding a jar of honey.

Dipping into the honey, he drizzled it across her shoulder and down her breast. Lying next to her, he lapped the honey, licking his way down the sweet path.

“Is that honey? I’ve never, I mean…” A smirk filled his face as she lost her train of thought when he dipped his head, taking the pink bud in his mouth, scraping teeth across before blowing on it and sucking. Moving to her other breast, he drizzled the honey along stomach, breast, and neck. The smell of summer filled the room. The honey giving off a scent of honeysuckle and pear mixed with the woodsmoke and beeswax candles. Looking around he noted the room was bathed in lavender and golden light, casting shadows across her skin, illuminating and hiding at the same time. Following the shadows, he traced lines across her body using the honey, a map to treasure only he could see.

Her breathing was labored. Arching, she grasped the sheets with her fists, sparks seeming to glint in her hair, catching fire. Pale blue veins showed through skin that glowed like fine marble and he kissed his way down each line. The voice that came out was hoarse, sounding as if it belonged to someone else.

“Milady should be dressed in silks and jewels, worshipped. A lovely jewel. Will ye allow me to honor your body?” No one had ever made him feel thus. As if they were the first man and woman to come together, made for each other alone, for all eternity.

Gazing at him with eyes full of passion, she reached out and stroked his check. Palm soft as suede against his skin. “Please.” She whispered on a sigh, running her hands along his chest, raising the gooseflesh.

Capturing his prize, he pulled her to him, holding her close, the last bit of bee’s nectar forgotten as it dripped down the side of the bed. Plundering her mouth, she moaned from a wild place within. Tasting and nibbling, his tongue dove in, seeking. She tasted of honey and cherries and a tiny hint of lavender. Welcoming him, twining her arms around his neck, she kissed him eagerly, running her nails up and down his back. Trailing kisses over her eyes and nose, he nibbled the delightful corner of her lip. The spot that turned up when she wanted to smile but wasn’t sure if she should.

Firm hands explored his body, running through his hair, combing out the tangles. He pulled them both down so they were on their sides facing each other. Tentatively she reached down to the juncture of his thighs, stroking him. He let her take the lead as she pushed him onto his back and slid down his body between his legs. Seeing her there, looking up at him, fondling his cock, he had to concentrate or he’d lose it before he could properly bed her.

A tremulous smile crossed her face an instant before she bent her head, taking him in deep. Licking the head, she swirled her tongue around, kissing the shaft and then covered him again. The soft rhythmic lapping almost undid him. Pulling her up his body, he kissed her. In the blink of an eye, he flipped her over, earning a startled gasp from her. Had someone mistreated her, taken advantage of her? The thought made him tense, muscles tightening. Men were such wretched things. The tenseness in her body remained, the worry in her touch. Whoever had hurt her, he’d burn them out and brand himself in place. Give her pleasure. Show her how wonderful the act of love could be between two people. Reaching for the tray next to the bed, giving her a moment to calm, he sipped the whisky and took a handful of pitted cherries. Chuckling, he squeezed, dripping the dark red juice on her calf, the back of her leg—that spot he loved on the back of her knee.

“Oh, what is that? It’s cold.”

Licking the juice from her, he grinned. “Why ‘tis some of those cherries you’re so fond of, darlin’.”

“Don’t waste the cherries. I love those.” The indignation in her voice had him throwing back his head with laughter.

“Easy, love. We’ve plenty more. If it will calm you, I promise to build you another hothouse and fill it with whatever you desire so you’ll never fear running out of the fruit you love so much.”

Maggie grumbled words he couldn’t quite catch, her voice muffled by the down-filled pillows. It sounded like she’d said something about a hedonistic pirate but he wasn’t sure. “Now, where was I?” He dripped more juice across her arse, stopping to admire the twin globes. Her lovely bum was shaped rather like a cherry. Muffling his mirth against the soft flesh, he licked and sucked, his tongue dipping into the crease as she jumped. This time he did laugh out loud before going back to nibbling her delectable flesh.

Reaching under her, he lifted her to her knees, her rump presented to him, her sex glistening in the candlelight, plump and ready for him. Groaning, he tilted her back and popped the last of the cherries into his mouth. He stroked her with a finger, running it through her folds, stroking her mound, kissing each delectable buttock. Inserting two of the cherry stained fingers, he thrust in and out of her core as she clenched around him. So tight, so wet and ready for him. Continuing to thrust, he stroked and circled her bud. She ground into him, a dance older than time itself. Inserting another finger, stretching her, preparing her to take him, he increased the pressure. She was close. Rolling over on his back, his head beneath her sex, he looked up at the delicate pink skin, engorged, flushed and ready for him. Latching on with his mouth, his tongue thrust inside her as he hummed a wordless tune against her flesh, the sounds vibrating against the hard nub. Her thighs clenched tight against his head as she cried out, her release taking her. Lapping he thought she tasted of cherries and honey. The smell of a summer meadow filled the room and if he hadn’t known for a fact his powers were gone, he’d have sworn he’d taken them both to a field of flowers with the sun shining turning everything to gold.

Hands on her waist, he lifted her, positioning her over his cock. Long and thick, hard and hot, his member jutted out proud, bobbing, seeking her heat. Lowering her gently to let her body accustom itself to the width and length of him, he slid her down inch by inch until she was fully seated, taking all of him in. Her body was tight around him, slick with sweat. Her hips moved of her own accord, breasts bobbing above him as he pumped in and out. Fingers reached out, cupping each breast, kneading and stroking as she moved faster and faster. Sensing she was ready again, he sped up the pace, pumping into her harder and harder, salvation at hand. With a deep thrust, he bellowed, “Maggie.”

She let out a keening sound and shattered, body clenching around him, tumbling over the precipice.

A satisfied male rumble emanated from him as he gathered her close. Stroking her hair, murmuring endearments. A shy smile on her face, she ran fingertips up and down his bicep.

She handed him the whisky and took another sip of her wine. Sighing, looking content as a cat with a bowl of cream. Warm, next to each other, they enjoyed the companionable silence, touching each other, learning the other’s body.

He must have dozed off. Turning, Maggie was sleeping and still his body stirred, needing her again…she was his oasis in the desert. Lifting her, she woke when he carried her into the bath. Candles filled the room, a bottle of chilled wine waited for them. Steam rose and bubbles mounded in the deep tub. One of his staff had entered through the adjoining door and prepared the bath for them while they slept. His voice came out rough, new, as he lowered her into the water and climbed in behind her.

“I thought we’d have a bath together. I want to feel the silk of your skin sliding against me when I make love to you in the water.”

Rather than answering, she reached down taking him in her hand, guiding him home as the air shimmered around them, settling into the tub, turning the water to molten silver, coating their bodies, turning them both to liquid silver as they came together.

They explored each other until the water turned cold. Water had sloshed all over the stone floor during their lovemaking. Toweling her off, he carried her back to bed. Loved picking her up, holding her close. Pulling her tight against him, she fit perfectly. Wrapping an arm around her waist, the other entangled in her hair, they forgot about dinner and fell asleep. As he drifted off, a wisp of a memory blew by. “Lola.” At one time, he’d thought she’d be his wife, before she brutally betrayed him. Being with Maggie, he knew Lola meant nothing. How didn’t he see it sooner? Maggie was his future. The one he loved. Somehow he’d deal with the curse and avoid telling her altogether. His lady had enough to worry about. Didn’t need to worry about the curse too.

“What do we have here?” Dayne circled the iron cage peering in at the fae woman. He shook his head, looking at his fae slave, Robard. “Wherever did you find her? I swear she looks exactly like Luna.”

“In the winter realm, my king. She has no family left and given the discord between the realms, no one will notice her absence. Or if they do, they will simply believe she’s gone to linger among the horrible humans. Lemera is her name.”

“Leave us.” Standing with his hand on his hip, he stood inches from the bars, thinking. The fae hissed at him, baring her teeth as she hit the bars. Rebounding in pain, she sunk to her knees, face contorted. “What gives you the right to hold me? I owe no allegiance to this realm. Release me at once.”

Cocking an eyebrow, he pointed in her direction and laughed as the red energy swirled from his finger, snaked through the bars and landed on her mouth. Well, she no longer had a mouth. “If I want your opinion I’ll ask. You will learn to obey me or suffer for it. I have plans for you my pretty and you
will
cooperate.”

The beautiful woman glared at him before sitting cross-legged in the middle of her cell. He suppressed the urge to rub his hands together in glee. There were enough “inducements” at his disposal for him to break her in a matter of weeks. This woman would be his weapon. With her he could destroy Thorne and the Shadow Walkers in one fell swoop. Nothing would be left to stand in his way. First the human realm, then the rest would fall. One by one until he ruled them all.

Thorne didn’t know Dayne knew all about his dear brother prostrating himself on Luna’s tomb, begging her to answer him. Would be easy enough to set the stage, have Thorne see her, well an image of her, wandering Luna’s temple. The time he’d spent perfecting that little trick was going to be so worthwhile. Then he’d sit back and watch the fun begin without having to break the girl. Simply manifest the appropriate clothing and hairstyle…she already had the haughty look and stance down. Life was good.

Dayne went about his realm, seeing to the inhabitants. Returning hours later, he stood in front of the cage. “Swear you’ll behave, and I’ll let you stay in a proper room during your time here.”

Scowling, she pointed to her face. Right. Waving a hand gave back her mouth and speech.

“I will not swear but in exchange for proper accommodations, I won’t kill those who check on me.” The words were spat at his feet.

A shoulder lifted. “So be it.” The bars fell away and he transported them to a room down the hall from his. It was opulent. A large bed, silk and fur bedcoverings, velvet drapes and comfortable furniture. The floors were blood-red marble with pitch-black thick wool rugs. The door had a heavy bar to lock her in. Not to mention the enchantments he’d laid over the chamber. “Does it meet with your approval?”

The girl had the temerity to sneer at him. “A prison is still a prison, no matter how pretty it looks on the outside. What do you want with me?”

“In due time.” Waving a hand, he manifested the appropriate clothing and hairstyle. By all the realms, she was brilliant. “Food and drink will be here shortly. Enjoy your stay.”

Dematerializing out of the room to his private chambers, he lifted a picture off the wall, revealing a rectangle. It was made of a rare crystal, polished to a mirror finish. Waving his hand over it, Luna’s temple appeared. Thorne was so predictable, showing up every month on the day of her death to beg forgiveness. Of course she never bothered to answer. Bitch. Reaching deep within, he pulled on the massive amount of energy he’d need to manifest Lemera’s image, placing it inside the temple, looking out at the grounds.