Shadow's Pleasure: The Shadow Warder Series, Book Two (A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance Series) (31 page)

“Sorcha, how could something like this happen? Are you alright?”

“Did you know he left the Sanctuary?” Sorcha asked, unmoved by Iris’s shock and dismay. She’d tried to explain about Steven too many times in the past and Iris had never believed her. Now she didn’t care anymore.

“No,” Iris responded. “I’ve been distracted and I thought he was just keeping to himself after the scene at the meeting. I just don’t understand how he could attack you. He’s been your mentor your entire life.”

“Because he’s a psychopath, Iris. And I’m done trying to convince you of what he is. Kiernan helped me deal with him. I don’t think he’s going to bother me again. But if he does, we’ll both do what we have to do to defend ourselves.”

“Are you threatening Steven?” Iris asked, disbelief heavy in her voice.

“No,” Sorcha said, suddenly tired of the conversation. Of Iris. And Steven. And the whole mess waiting back at the Sanctuary. “I’m not threatening anyone. I’m just telling you what happened and what will happen if he comes at me again. You might want to send someone out to bring him back.”

“When you’re done there you could—”

“Oh, hell no,” Sorcha said. “Steven is your problem. I don’t care how you deal with him as long as he leaves me alone. I’ll let you know when we have the girls.” Sorcha hung up the phone before Iris could respond.

Kiernan, who had been careful to give her physical space since she’d woken up, tangled his fingers with hers. He rested their joined hands on his hard thigh and squeezed. “Please tell me,” he said, “that she was not about to ask you to bring Steven in for her.”

“I wish I could,” Sorcha said. His skin was warm against hers. Soothing.

“She doesn’t see how fucked up that is?”

“Apparently not,” Sorcha said, wishing she sounded wry and sarcastic instead of sad and tired.

“You know,” Kiernan said, “Iris gave off this wise grandmother vibe, and I have to admit I kind of fell for it. I had no idea her head was this far up her own ass.”

Sorcha couldn’t help the giggle that tumbled past her lips. “That’s Iris,” she said. “In some ways she really is the wise grandmother of the Sanctuary. And in others? Totally has her head up her ass.”

Sorcha giggled again at the image. Trust Kiernan to make her laugh when all she’d felt was depressed after hanging up the phone. It was getting harder and harder to hold on to her anger. He pulled into the alley and hit the opener for his garage door. Sometime in the night, he’d repaired the wires she’d fried. The panel was still a mess, but the door rose when he hit the button. The other door, the one designed for people, was still welded shut. She’d have to fix that for him later.

Sorcha followed Kiernan to the elevator, wondering if this was when they were going to talk. She had a full stomach and caffeine running through her veins, but she still wasn’t ready. Kiernan led her into the elevator and stood to the side, giving her most of the small space to herself. The doors slid open and he shifted behind her, resting one hand on her lower back, guiding her out into the loft.

His touch was light, but direct, as he half led and half pushed her through the living area and straight for his bedroom. Then past the bed to the bathroom. Turning her to face him, Kiernan began to strip off her clothes, starting with her jeans. He had the worn denim past her hips before her brain shifted into gear. She’d been prepared for seduction, honeyed words and soft kisses. Maybe even a confrontation, a demand that they have it out. She had not been prepared to be pushed into the bathroom and stripped naked.

“What are you doing?” Sorcha asked, reaching for her jeans. Too late. Kiernan already had them on the floor.

He lifted one of her feet, tilting her off balance. She shot out a hand to brace on the wall and used a jolt of Tk to keep herself from falling. The struggle to stay upright distracted her and she was bare from the waist down before her brain caught up again.
Crafty bastard
, she thought.

“We’re taking a shower,” he said, reaching for the hem of her shirt.

Sorcha slammed her hands over the fabric, holding it tight to her torso. “I don’t want to take a shower. I took a shower last night.”

“Take one anyway. It’ll be fun.” Peeling off his own clothes, he flashed her a grin and Sorcha swore her nipples perked in response.

Traitors
. She wanted space. Needed to think about how things were between them. She did not need to fuck him in the shower. More explosive sex was not going to help her clear her head where Kiernan was concerned. She wrapped her arms around her waist, her fingers tight on her t-shirt. Kiernan might have taken her jeans and panties, but she was keeping the shirt. “I don’t care if it’s fun, I said—”

Kiernan picked her up, shirt and all, and carried her into the oversized shower. A second later, a freezing blast of water hit her in the face. Sorcha lifted her hands to wipe her eyes and Kiernan whisked the t-shirt over her head. By the time the water warmed up, her bra swam on the floor of the shower with her shirt, and Sorcha was pulled tight into a hard chest. She looked up, expecting to see triumph or humor in Kiernan’s eyes. Instead, they were warm and serious. He tucked her in against him, cradling her in his wide stance, shielding her eyes from the water.

“Just relax,” he said. “You’re too stressed. You feel guilty about Caerwyn. You’re angry with Iris and your family. Steven attacked you. I know this thing with the bond isn’t helping. Just let it all go for a while.” He stroked her wet hair back from her face, working his fingers through the thick strands to massage her skull.

Sorcha moaned. She moaned again when his palm closed over the tight muscles at the base of her neck. How had he known she was all knots there? Sorcha melted into Kiernan’s heat, thinking maybe he was right. She could let go for just a few minutes. His kneading, stroking hands eased out every drop of tension. Despite the press of his hard cock into her lower stomach, Kiernan’s touch wasn’t overtly sexual. This wasn’t a sneaky attempt to turn her on. He really was trying to help her relax. The last bit of her anger drained away.

She still thought she’d had a right to be frustrated with his possessiveness. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about the bond. But with everything he did, he showed her that he was a good man. Loyal. Brave. It didn’t hurt that he was fun to be with, panty-melting hot, and charming as hell.

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch,” she whispered into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he whispered back. “With that hair, I figured there had to be a bitch in there somewhere.”

With a gasp of outrage, only half fake, Sorcha pinched him hard in the side. He yelped but didn’t let her go.

“See, there she is,” he said, reaching to turn off the water. He grabbed an oversize towel hanging just outside the shower and wrapped Sorcha in the thick, soft cotton. Methodically, he soaked up the water from her skin, starting at her shoulders, then her back, until she was dry all the way to her feet.

Sorcha expected him to make a move, to shift his gentle caresses into those of seduction, but it didn’t happen. When he stood again, he squeezed the excess water from her hair and tossed the towel on the bathroom floor. Sorcha was so relaxed from his ministrations she didn’t expect him to literally sweep her off her feet. With a shriek, she grabbed his shoulders for balance. She’d barely gotten used to being carried when he used one foot to pull back the covers she’d straightened earlier and eased them both into bed.

Curling her into his chest, Kiernan grabbed the duvet and pulled it over them, cocooning them in warmth. Surrounded by the scent of Kiernan, the fresh green smell of his shower soap, and his touch gliding over her still damp skin, Sorcha admitted to herself that she was exactly where she wanted to be. At least for right now. Lifting a fingertip, she stroked it across his golden skin, tracing a line from one tight nipple to the other. Now that she knew it was there, she felt the heat and pull of the energy bonding them together. If she used her empathy to look deeper, she knew she’d see the lines of power flowing from her to Kiernan and back again. Leaving them separate beings, but also joining them as one.

Iris’s explanation days before told her why the Ancients had devised such an invasive, permanent connection between Shadows and Warders. In only a few days together, Kiernan’s Warder energy had bolstered her mental shield, making it possible for her to function easily in the city, to touch strangers with no problems. She hadn’t tried it yet, but from what she’d heard of Conner and Hannah’s experience, she knew she would be able to funnel energy to Kiernan in battle, to make him stronger, faster and almost impossible to kill. She supposed in a time of war, as it had been when the Ancient mages created the Shadows and Warders, they didn’t stop to think about such inconsequential things as free will. It still would have been nice to choose for herself who she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

But there was idealism, and there was reality. Shadows and Warders were created to protect humans. To fight. They were never intended to have free will. Not where their mission was concerned. If the Universe, or Fate, or whatever, had seen fit to bond her to Kiernan, railing against it wasn’t going to get her anything but frustrated. She’d just have to deal with it and hope that this attraction and easy friendship with Kiernan grew into something more as time went on. The Universe knew, unless they were killed by the Vorati, time was one thing they had plenty of.

Kiernan’s fingertips stroked up and down her spine in rhythmic waves, gentle and undemanding. Heat gathered everywhere he touched, spreading over every inch of her body until she wondered if she might be glowing. Somehow, Kiernan was able to keep up his lazy strokes, but Sorcha was getting restless, the growing ache between her legs demanding she do something. Anything. In a bolt of understanding, she got it. He wasn’t seducing her. He was going to get her so turned on that she’d seduce him.
Crafty bastard
, she thought for the second time that morning.

Heat pulsing between her legs, limbs squirming against him, Sorcha decided she was done being played by the master. He wanted a seduction? She hoped he was ready for it. With a low growl, she pulled out of his arms, throwing back the duvet as she launched herself on top of him.

Kiernan let out an
oof
when she landed. He tried to grab hold of her arms and found his hands pinned to the pillow beside his head. Sorcha’s Tk might not be able to move mountains, but it was strong enough. And she’d always wanted to use it like this.

Kiernan struggled against his invisible bonds. From her perch straddling his legs, Sorcha laughed. He wasn’t using all of his strength, but he was using enough to know he was stuck. A frown creased his forehead. He was the perfect picture of affronted male. His cock didn’t mind that he was being pinned down by his lover. From the way it bobbed and surged, thick and rock hard, his cock was all in for whatever Sorcha wanted to do.

“You’re stronger than me,” Kiernan said, tugging again on his wrists.

Sorcha laughed again and squirmed her way down his body until she was kneeling over his shins. With one finger, she stroked a line down his cock. It strained toward her. “I am and I’m not. My Tk isn’t really that powerful. I think it’s pulling energy from you.”

“You’re using the bond against me?” he asked.

“In a way,” she said, dropping her hand from his cock. “Do you want me to let you up?”

“Not if you keep doing that,” he said, staring as her fingers circled the head of his cock.

A bead of moisture had gathered, telling Sorcha he was more turned on than she’d thought. So all those soft, gentle caresses had been getting to him too. Good to know. “I was just going to play for awhile,” she said, touching her fingertip to the drop of pre-come and lifting it to her mouth. She licked, tasting the salty, musky flavor of Kiernan. Wanting more. Dropping her head, she licked again. Not enough. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted a male enough to do this. With Kiernan, it was no sacrifice. The thick, solid heat of him in her mouth was suddenly the only thing she wanted. Not in the mood to deny herself, Sorcha sucked hard on the red, weeping head of his cock. So good. He filled her mouth as perfectly as he filled her pussy.

Taking him deeper, she gave him a long, sucking stroke. His hips rose, following the tight ring of her lips. Somewhere above her she heard him moan her name. She’d get back up there eventually. For now, she wanted to see how much of him she could take. Need built between her legs. The rough hairs on his legs scraped her nipples. This wasn’t the first time she’d taken a cock in her mouth, but she’d never been so turned on by doing it. Her pussy felt swollen. Wet. Empty.

Sorcha ignored her body’s demands and sucked again, pulling in more of his length. Every time he moaned, her arousal cranked higher. She had all of Kiernan, spread out like a buffet, groaning and writhing, just from her mouth. She wanted to give him more. Wanted to take more of him for herself. Another long, slow, deep suck. His cock head tapped the back of her throat. She could stop here. Despite the slick heat between her legs, demanding more, Sorcha wasn’t sure she
could
go farther. Kiernan was thick, and she was still missing a few inches. But the thought of taking all of his cock, the intimacy, the heat, of giving Kiernan something she’d never given anyone else, was too much to resist.

Taking a breath first, she dropped her head back down the length of him, stroking him with her tongue until he was again at the back of her throat. Then she swallowed, drawing his cock deeper. A small part of her brain pulled back in panic, but she ignored it and pushed forward, pressing past her gag reflex with only a quick, choking hitch. Kiernan’s raw groan of pleasure was all the incentive she needed. Somehow it worked. Easing herself down, Sorcha kept going until she’d taken all of him, her lips wrapped around his root. Primitive triumph filled her. She’d claimed him, claimed his cock. And based on the growls and moans coming from the top of the bed, he loved it.

Slowly, she drew back, then took him all the way again. Another minute and Sorcha got a good rhythm going. A few shallow strokes, licking and tasting. Then she’d suck him all the way to the root. And over again.