Labyrinth (23 page)

He groaned and covered a breast with his palm. Margot yanked up her skirt and swung a leg over his hip. She wrapped the fingers of her good hand around his tool while carefully slipping a finger of the other hand into her panties, grazing the curls. Her clit tightened. He slid a finger into the dress neckline past her bra, and brushed the nipple. Margot arched into him as she thrust a finger into her wet heat. His tongue sparred with hers, mimicking the action of her thrusts into her channel.

She moaned and slid her finger upward to her pleasure point and flicked it gently. Margot released him, yanked up the kilt and wrapped fingers around his velvety steel. His mouth slid downward along her neck then the valley between her breasts. He made quick work of the buttons,
then
shoved aside the lacy bra.

“
Kylyrra
,” he whispered.

A thrill clenched her stomach muscles.
He wants me.

He ringed a nipple with his tongue. She rocked against the finger massaging her clit, faster, pumping into the long digit. His hand covered the hand on her mound. She grasped his fingers and pressed them against the engorged nub. Warmth enveloped the nipple and his mouth closed over her while his finger massaged in quick movements.

Pressure built. She rocked against his hand, pressing him deeper into the wet folds. Pleasure tickled deep inside. He sucked harder on the nipple. His free hand snaked around her back, pulling her deeper into his mouth. Margot gripped his cock tighter and slid downward, stretching the skin tight, then upward in rhythm with his finger to her clit. She gasped with pleasure spiked through her.

He drew back and before she realized his intent he slid off the bed onto his knees and tugged her legs up over his shoulders. When his mouth closed over her mound, pleasure rocketed through her like wildfire. Margot cried out. His tongue thrust deep into her channel, then swept upward through the slick folds. She raked her good hand through his hair, fisting the thick strands between her fingers. He grunted, but the rhythm of his tongue thrusts didn’t falter.

She lifted her hips and pulsed against his mouth. His grip on her legs tightened and he pressed closer, his mouth sucking her in quick bursts. A luscious tickle shot from her sex to her core. She cried out and bucked against his mouth. Margot jammed her free hand inside her bra and rolled a nipped between forefinger and thumb. Orgasm burst across her senses. Her legs tightened convulsively around his head. He sucked harder. The orgasm intensified. Pleasure rolled over her in a wave that bowed her off the bed.

“Sweet Christ,” she groaned, and pumped harder.

Another wave radiated through her, then another and another until she collapsed on the mattress, breath coming in heavy gasps. Her heart pounded with a final echo of pleasure and she opened her eyes. The curtained canopy of the four poster bed snapped into focus. Margot yanked her gaze down and met his stare. He still knelt on the floor between her legs.

She bolted upright. “Why am I still here?”

He gently shifted her legs from his shoulders and rose. A sheen of moisture glistened across his forehead. God, it looked so real.

“I feared as much,” he said.

“What?” she demanded.

“Lass, you shall no' escape so easily this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Catraoine.”

Margot rose, shoving the dress strap back over her shoulder. “If I don’t wake up, she’ll kill me.”

“It is not her who has the power to kill you, but Colin.”

“So I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t?”

His mouth thinned. “You should have left Castle Morrison while you were able.”

Her insides shook. “Does the fact I can't wake up mean I’m too far gone?”

“Nay, lass, ye are as alive as you have ever been, as alive as I am.”

Margot shoved his hand aside. “You’re not real.” She started for the door.

Strong fingers closed over her shoulder. Margot whirled, seized his wrist, and bent his arm around his back. She propelled him toward the bed and dashed for the door. She was out of the room and down the hallway when his shout of “Stop!” echoed off the stone walls. Margot raced to the last room where she’d found the woman’s decaying body.

“Lass,” he called as she burst into the room.

She stopped beside the bed and stared at the decaying body. Stink of the decaying flesh filled her nostrils. She grimaced.

He appeared in the doorway. “God help us.”

Margot jerked her gaze onto him. “This is going to be me if I don’t find a way out of this.”

His mouth turned down in a grim frown.
“Aye.”

Her heartbeat accelerated. Margot lifted her wounded palm and looked at it. “This didn’t shock me awake and climaxing didn’t wake me. I’m not going to wake up this time. There’s nothing—” she broke off.

He started toward her, slowing beside the bed, where the putrefying body still lay covered with the quilt. “
Diolain
,” he muttered in a dark tone. He reached for Margot. She retreated, but he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his side. “Come,
Kylyrra
, this is no place for you.”

She jerked her head up and met his gaze. “Why? Because she died in a lover’s embrace and I’ll go when Cat decides to throw my body over a cliff?”

Cat believed Margot would break the spell and free Colin. How long before Cat realized that wasn't going to happen?

Chapter Twenty-Three

Margot turned with Colin and her gaze caught on a piece of paper peeking out from beneath the quilt several inches from the corpse. She pulled from his grasp and snatched the paper free of the covers.

“What is that?” he asked.

Margot walked to where the hallway light better shone into the room, and read:

Dearest Colin,

I hope my latest offering pleases you. I know she can't replace the one who is soon to come, but she will sustain you until you are free and we are together again.

Love,

Cat

Colin stepped up behind her. Margot realized her hand was shaking.

He grasped her hand and steadied it as he read out loud, “She will sustain you?” He snatched the paper from her.
“By all that is holy.
He knew she could no' save him, yet lay between her legs knowing that night would be her last.” Colin wadded the paper and threw it with enough violence that it bounced off the cold fireplace and fell to the carpet.

He swept Margot off her feet and strode from the room, down the hall to his bedroom. He laid her on the bed and pulled sheet and quilt up. She couldn't tear her gaze from his large hands as he carefully tucked the covers around her chin as if she were a child. According to Cat's files,
Logan
was the younger brother. But he was a blip on the map—except for the mention of how both brothers had disappeared shortly after their thirty-fifth birthdays.

Nothing in the files explained how Colin became a casualty of the spell. Something nagged Margot about Cat leaving out the fact the spell had been meant for
Logan
and that Colin had unwittingly become a victim. Why do that? And why was Colin claiming to be
Logan
when Cat said Colin was the one stuck inside the painting? Her blood chilled. Because only one brother remained: the brother who wasn’t supposed to be there. The brother who had murdered the other: Colin.

He paused, and she lifted her gaze to his. He returned her stare as if he had nothing to hide, as if he hadn’t drained those women's life force until the final sliver of light had winked out—just as Cat had done to Donny.

His eyes softened. Margot’s heart leaped. Had that gentle look lured those women to their deaths? Had they, too, thought he was their only way out? She’d sworn she wouldn’t let a serial killer touch her. What if it meant her life?

Margot pulled a hand free of the cover and slipped the arm around his neck. He stiffened.

“You going to pretend you don’t want me, sugar?”

He stared down at her. “A man would be a fool not to want you.”

“And you’re no fool.”

No, that honor was reserved for her.

She pulled his mouth down to hers. His lips softened, molding around hers. Margot startled at the sense that they’d been doing this their whole lives. She tugged him down onto her. His weight pressed her into the mattress with a comforting sense of power. He shifted and Margot wrapped her other arm around his back. She’d never experienced such powerful longing. Everything about this dream had been amplified from the smells and colors to the hard muscle of his back beneath her fingers.

Margot dug her fingers into that muscle. He flexed beneath her touch. His mouth moved on hers. She thrust her tongue against his lips. He groaned and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. She shifted and he lifted onto elbows as she threw back the covers. Margot rolled him over so that she was on top. She straddled his hips and pulled the dress waist high. He stared, eyes dark with desire as she drew aside the thong, then lowered herself onto his hips and rocked against his length through the kilt. Rough wool slid along her moist folds. He lifted his hips, giving her better access. She groaned. Closer, she needed to be closer. She lifted his kilt.

His hand covered hers. “I will not send you to your death.”

She stared. “So, as long as he kills me, you’re absolved of guilt?”

“I did no' know about those women until Colin had lain with them. The last one, the one whose room we were in. She came to me—I kept her here with me, begged her to stay. I would have—” He shook his head.

Her heart tore at sight of the pain in his eyes, but she demanded, “Would have what?”

“I would have died to protect her. But I fell asleep and she slipped from the room.”

Margot laid a hand on his arm. “Would you have me be confined to this room for the rest of my life? Can you live with worrying every minute I’ll disappear? Think," she insisted. "Have you known anyone else to come and go as I have? You said my coming here this time was different, but my leaving was different as well. Maybe I can't be killed. Maybe I'm not like those other women.”

“I—”

She leaned closer. “No arguments. God knows how much time I have." Margot shoved aside the thought of her body completely at Cat's mercy and rocked her pussy against his cock.

He closed his eyes and rolled his hips against her as if he couldn't get enough…as if he hadn’t fucked any of those women—any woman—for three centuries. Margot tugged his shirt free of the kilt and unbuttoned it. She pushed aside the fabric and pressed her lips to his chest, breathing deep of his male scent. His heart beat against his chest, the thump, thump, thump against her lips. How easily she could fall and not worry about waking up. She placed her palms against the muscled flesh and traced her tongue around a nipple. He sucked in a harsh breath. The salty taste of his skin teased the tip of her tongue. She closed her lips around the tiny bud and sucked.

Colin groaned. Margot slid her mouth to the other nipple and flicked her tongue against the tip. He cupped her face and brought her mouth to his. His soft touch bellied the strength in his rod. Here was the man she’d conjured in that first dream. Strong, yet gentle. His tongue thrust inside as he pulled down her dress and bra strap. Cool air washed over her breast and the nipple puckered the instant before his warm hand covered the mound.