Red Night ((Book 1) Timewalker Chronicles) (5 page)

A trail of fire burned over her where his hands slid around to cup her buttocks. He lifted her slightly, rubbing her against his arousal. She thought she would die with sweet pain. Her body wanted, needed him inside of her, filling her. Inner muscles pulsed to life, throbbed in desperate invitation. She arched back against the porch railing, forcing her body more firmly against his.

Hot lips traced her pulse down her neck. He nibbled at her shoulder and torturous pulses of shock rippled through her, to her very core. She was going into meltdown. “Luke.”

His only answer was to lift her higher, until her nipple hung suspended in front of the searing heat of his mouth. Unable to resist, she pulled him to her. A soft moan escaped her lips when he softly bit the peak through her thin cotton shirt. Her legs wrapped around his waist, his body her only anchor in a hurricane of sensations more intense than anything she’d ever experienced.

One of his hands moved to her waist, then up beneath her shirt. Sweet torture glided over her flesh as his hands teased, grazed her skin with the lightest touch, and finally pushed the offending fabric to bunch at her shoulders. Exposed, her nipple was peaked and hard, begging for more. His tongue found her first, flicked. Then he closed his mouth around the mound, sucked until she moaned his name.

Her entire body tuned to the accelerated beat of her heart. Throbbing with need. Burning through her skin where the mark of her calling was now blazing with a life of its own. With his tongue, he found the heated birthmark on her breast and traced the hot design, searing the symbol into her consciousness. Branding her as his forever.

Her birthmark. Her heritage. Her destiny.

“Stop.” It was going to kill her, and probably him too, but they couldn’t do this. Not yet. Every lecture she’d ever had from her mother had touched on this subject. Her mother must have known what it would be like for her, once she met Luke. Memories of heated gazes that constantly passed between her mother and father jumped to the fore. Judging by her parent’s relationship, this thing between them wasn’t ever going to cool down. But they had work to do first. She wasn’t going to fail because this man drove every drop of blood from her head to other parts of her body.

“Luke, I’m sorry.” Gathering every ounce of self-control she’d ever had, she unwrapped her legs from his waist and slid back down the hard length of him to stand on the porch. Still exposed, her nipple slid along his chest on the way down, and she gritted her teeth at the bittersweet agony. “We have to stop.”

He didn’t answer, just rested his head against hers with his eyes closed and stilled his roving hands. They rested on her hips, torturing her with their heat through her thin cotton Capris.

“I’m sorry.” She felt like the worst kind of tease. But she was suffering too.

Her hands had a mind of their own and still explored the planes of his chest. His body was too close, too hard, too tempting. She pushed away from him and hurried over to the cushioned porch swing. Legs curled beneath her, she sat on her hands so she couldn’t reach for him, and watched Luke get himself under control. Gradually both of their breathing rhythms returned to normal. Unconsciously, her hand moved to her chest and massaged the still pulsing symbol there. The symbol her daughter,
their
daughter, would carry.

When his eyes finally opened, his attention was immediately drawn to the hand over her heart. “What does the mark mean?”

Alexa lifted one shoulder in a quick shrug. “It’s a birthmark. The Shen, my mother called it.” For probably the thousandth time in her life, she traced the half-inch ring with her fingertip. Such a simple mark. Her mother said it was a rope looped around. No beginning. No end. It looked like a circle sitting atop a straight line. How she’d hated that mark growing up. Kept it hidden. Resented what it meant. Only when the Archiver’s call had come had she begun to understand the honor. And the cost. “It means eternity and protection in a language so old and powerful only the Archivers are trusted with the knowledge.” Their gazes locked and held in the shadows. “It’s the mark of the Taken.”

“The Taken?”

“Yes. I've been told that Timewalkers and Archivers carry the mark. As do their descendants.” He seemed to be taking this pretty well, considering. But what had he said earlier? She almost regretted the fact that her brain had begun to function again. “Did you say you’ve known me for sixteen years?”

“Yes.”

That was all she got out of him. Great. Come to think of it, he hadn’t said more than about two words the entire time. He was accepting all this much too easily. “How?”

“My dreams.”

Had he truly dreamt of her? She struggled to speak over the lump in her throat. “What kind of dreams?”

“When the time comes, I’ll be happy to show you. Until then, don’t ask if you aren’t ready for the answer.” Luke’s smile melted her insides and she was thankful the semi-darkness covered the flush rising on her face.

“So, you knew I was coming?”

His gaze locked her to him, the intensity she saw in his eyes left her unable to move, or breathe. Like a predator, he came to kneel before her and started to unbutton his shirt. Her pulse skyrocketed. The hard back of the swing stopped her retreat. Trapped. “What are you doing?”

Now open to his waist, Luke pulled his shirt aside. Suddenly, Alexa wished the porch light was on. He grabbed her hand and pulled it, slowly, toward his heart. “I didn’t know you would find me.”

He pressed her palm to his heated skin, to the flesh she desperately needed to taste. Alexa closed her eyes to keep herself from lunging at him. An unnatural heat radiated beneath her palm, pulsing in time to her own throbbing birthmark. She gasped in shock and lifted her hand to inspect his chest in the dim light shining from the window behind her. There, branded into his flesh, was a mark that exactly matched her own. “How -- ?” Once again, she met his gaze and another rush of heat threatened her self-control. “Your dreams?”

He nodded. “Sometimes, I thought I was crazy. But after the first dream, I woke up with this.” Hand locked over hers, he cradled her palm against the mark on his chest. “So, I didn’t know you were coming, but I was promised. And I hoped.”

“I can be a difficult woman to deal with.” She pulled her hand away from the gentle seduction of his caressing fingers, the nearly irresistible call of the mark on his skin.

“I’ll take my chances.” His snort made her want to jump up off the swing and show him just how difficult she could be. She held herself in check. Barely. What was wrong with her? Her moods were never this mercurial. With eight younger brothers, she was used to much worse.

Hormones. She hated hormones. And the meddling of a jerk in white. How dare he choose a mate for her, brand him, and then tell her she may have to kill him? There could be no doubt now. He was hers.

A Cheshire cat grin fell into place on her face. “Listen. I won’t deny that I would love to go roll around naked with you and explore this…” She searched for a word to describe the miniature explosions that happened inside her body every time she even looked at him. “…attraction between us.”

“Attraction?” Six feet of pure temptation slid onto the seat next to her. She pulled back from his warmth as if burned. He had the nerve to notice. And grin.

“Yes, attraction.”

His long index finger reached out and rubbed the sensitive skin above her knee through her pants. “I like the rolling around naked idea.”

God, so did she. She bit into her lower lip. Hard. She wished he’d button that damn shirt. His hand lifted from her knee to caress her cheek before he spoke.

“Come inside. There’s something I want to show you.”

Strong hands enveloped hers and led her through the dark hallway. Blindly, she followed, taking on faith that the Archiver knew what he was doing when he chose Luke to be her mate. Already, his body lit hers on fire. He’d listened, promised to help her, and hadn’t accused her of being crazy. Three big marks in his favor.

“Close your eyes.” Luke backed into a darkened room, pulling her inside after him. She grinned in anticipation and allowed her eyelids to drift down. When she was somewhere in the middle of the room, he left her. “Don’t move, and don’t open your eyes.”

“All right.”

Like a whisper, he moved past her back toward the door leaving her alone in the shadows. Light burst through her closed eyelids, tinged pink from passing through her flesh. Her toe tapped impatiently as she waited for the command to see. Luke’s warm body pressed into her back and she inhaled sharply. Eyes open, he was enticing. Eyes closed, pure sensation ruled and Luke Lawson was devastating to the senses. Her body hummed with awareness. The emptiness she’d felt before flared back to life with a vengeance.

Hot breath tickled her ear, her neck, sending shivers racing down her spine.

“Okay. Open your eyes.”

“Oh, my God.” Nothing could’ve prepared her for this. Four large canvasses covered the wall in front of her. Lovingly drawn, in exquisite detail, was her face. Four different angles. Four different expressions. But her, right down to the tiny mole on her cheek and the small scar over her left eye. The scar was a gift her brother, Bryne, gave her when she was eight years old. Her legs were so weak, only the intoxicating arms wrapped around her waist held her upright. “How did you…?”

“There’s more.” Gently, he turned her to the opposite wall. There, much smaller but no less detailed, was a perfect rendering of every member of her family. Everyone she loved was on that wall, dispersed between framed black and white photographs of nature. Scattered. Faces she thought to never see again.

White-hot pokers stabbed behind her eyelids. Her head felt like it was being squeezed by a giant fist. Deep inside her chest, her heart actually hurt. Oh, how she loved them all. Missed them. Now she’d never forget their faces, never forget the people who were everything to her. This gift Luke gave her was priceless, and filled with love. Tears streaked her face, but she didn’t fight them, didn’t close her eyes to trap them inside. Greedily, her gaze roamed the room. Luke’s arms tightened around her waist.

“Do you like them?”

She tried to answer, but a soft sob was all that managed to break through the tightness of her throat. Luke turned her to face him. With a lover’s tender touch, he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. Worry creased his brow.

“I’m sorry, Alexa. Maybe I should’ve waited to show this to you.”

“No.” Turning her head, she kissed the palm of first one hand, then his other. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But it wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”

He looked genuinely upset at her reaction. Heaven help her. She was pretty damn sure she’d just fallen head over heels in love with the man. And she wanted to make love to him. Right now. To hell with waiting. He was hers. He’d been
branded!
Not to mention that they might both be dead in a few weeks anyway. She wanted every precious moment she could get.

Fingers curled around the hem of her shirt, she lifted it off over her head. His hungry gaze devoured her naked flesh. Stepping close, she slid her hands up his chest and shoved the already gaping white dress shirt off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it and pulled her roughly against him. With a soft moan, she pulled his head down to hers, tasted his lips, his tongue, before sliding down to caress the mark on his chest with her tongue.

The Shen pulsed with heat beneath her tongue. Hers answered, sent an electric shock straight to her core.

Luke’s hands slid over the bare skin of her back. His thumbs linked in the waistband of her pants. Stopped. “Now will you admit that you’re mine?”

“Yes.”
He
was
hers,
but she could remind him of that fact later. Right now, his scent filled her nostrils. The emptiness of her body ached to be filled by his.

His lips nibbled a trail of fire down her neck, over her collarbone. Cupping her breasts in his palms, he teased her nipples into hard peaks. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

“Good.” That fast her gentle lover was gone. Shoving her pants down her legs, he dragged her lace thong with them. When she tried to step out of them he simply lifted her off her feet and crushed her to him. He took command with his mouth, tasted, invaded, demanded a response while one hand cupped her bottom, held her throbbing core against his cock. Frantic, she tugged at his pants. She needed him inside of her, filling the emptiness.

“Not so fast.” Luke laughed at her, lifted her to raze her nipples with his five o’clock shadow as he carried to another room, to his bed. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

She didn’t notice much. Sparse furniture of dark wood. Huge windows flooded with moonlight. Dark sheets that felt like silk beneath her heated skin when he laid her across the bed. For a moment he left her, then returned, naked. Hard. Ready. Alexa held out her arms and he covered her with his body, crushing her into the pillow-top mattress.

A sigh of pure relief escaped. Then he took possession once again. Dominant, his mouth captured hers, ruled. Sliding lower, he kissed her stomach before lifting his body off to her side. Sucking one nipple into his mouth, he gently nibbled with his teeth. She arched up off the bed, needing more. He sent one hand to wander over the smooth plane of her stomach, then lower to cup her moist heat, to grind his palm against her. His mouth wandered over her rib cage, down the soft plane of her stomach. Lower. One hand pulled her folds apart, offering her throbbing nub up for attention. Hot, hard, his tongue stroked the sensitive flesh while he slowly pushed two fingers from his other hand inside.