Destiny United (29 page)

“God, that feels so good,” she murmured against his mouth
as she continued to taste and tease him like a wildcat. “What about you?” She
reached for the button on his jeans.

He grabbed her wrist and pressed it against the wall next
to her head. “No. This is for you.”

His fingers delved into her opening. Just a few thrusts
and she cried out, arching and quivering in his arms. Her muscles squeezed his
fingers as her orgasm went on. Her face flushed a brilliant shade of pink. He
felt a surge of pride that she was so responsive to his touch.

“Gods, you’re beautiful when you come,” he said as her
panting subsided and she melted into his arms. He carried her to the bed and
gently laid her sated body down.

“I’m going to start calling you
tentadora
,”
he told her once she’d recovered.

“What does that mean?”

“Temptress.”

She gave him a flirty smile and batted her lashes. “Who
me?”

He chuckled. “Or maybe
diablo
pequeño
.”

She gasped in mock horror. “I am not a little devil!”

“So you do understand Spanish.” He sat down next to her
on the bed.

“A little,” she answered with a shrug.
“
La piscina
.
Don’t piss in the pool.”

“What?”

“
Piscina
is pool. Don’t
piss-een-a pool. That’s how I remembered it for a test.”

He laughed out loud. “The language has changed quite a
bit in the last few centuries. I try to keep up but I don’t believe I’ve ever
heard that one before.”

Her gaze locked onto his still raging hard-on. “I want to
satisfy you too, Marcelo.”

“Don’t worry about me. You can tend to me later. In fact,
I’ll insist on it. But first, your present.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Did you forget?”

She gave him a sideways glance. “I’ve been a little
distracted.”

He smiled then jumped off the bed. “Don’t move. I’ll be
right back.”

***

Aila sat up against the headboard, pulling the sheet to
cover her breasts. Naked in bed with Marcelo? She smiled. It just felt right.

He strolled back in the room wearing a proud smirk holding
something delicately across his palms. A sheathed sword?

He pulled it out of the sheath and handed it to her, hilt
first. With a long glance she admired it. It was short. Not really a sword,
more like a dagger. The hilt was covered with jewels – emeralds and rubies that
sparkled in the light flooding from the window. Ornate designs were etched into
the metal between each jewel. Aila was no weapons expert – in fact, she’d never
even seen a sword up close – but instinctively she knew this one was special.

“Are these real?” she asked fingering the jewels with
admiration.

“Of course.”

“Wow.” She studied it, turning it over in her palms. The
weight and size was perfect for her small build. She could picture herself
swinging it, felling enemies left and right. She choked on a laugh.
I’m probably more likely to stab myself
. “Where did
you get it?”

He shrugged. “Just picked it up in my travels.”

“And you want to give it to me?”

He nodded then took it from her and put it back in the sheath.
“But I don’t want you using it until I teach you how to properly wield it.” He
set it aside then faced her with teasing eyes. “Knowing you, you’d probably
manage to slit my throat. I know you have an affinity for that spot.”

She ignored the jibe. “Are you sure you want to give it
to me? It looks very valuable.”

He frowned then sat down on the bed beside her. “It is
you who is valuable,
querida.
This sword is…a
trinket. It doesn’t even come close to representing my commitment to you.”

“Commitment?” She pulled the sheet higher, feeling
vulnerable all of the sudden. “Are you talking about marriage?”

He took her hand, his larger one enveloping hers in
warmth. “Aila, there is no marriage for immortals. When you find your mate and
consummate the relationship, your souls bind together. Forever. It’s better
than marriage.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t you feel it? After we made
love?”

She felt
something
, that
was for sure. “I felt all warm inside. And glowing. Like something clicked into
place within me. An overwhelming feeling that I’m right where I should be. Was
that our souls?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“So, we’re mated?”

He looked deep into her eyes, hope flaring within his.
“We are. And there’s no going back, Aila love. So I hope –”

“No. I don’t want to go back. But there’s something
missing.”

A flash of panic crossed his features before he smoothed
it into a frown. “What is it?”

“Well, you said you wanted to symbolize your feelings for
me, but you never told me what those feelings are.”

Love. I need to hear it.

He cocked his head to the side and kept that same frown.
“Aila, do you not know by now that I love you from the depths of my soul?”

Her heart leapt and her stomach danced with butterflies.
She shrugged, holding back the smile tugging on her lips. “You never said so.”

He cupped her face with one hand. His voice came out as a
husky whisper. “Ah, love, I didn’t think I had to. But allow me to compensate.
I have been inside your mind, in your heart, and seen every inch of your
delectable skin.” He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. “I have looked
inside your very soul, even in the dark corners you like to hide.” He leaned in
so close she could feel his breath against her skin. “And, Aila, by the gods, I
have found you matchless.” His lips brushed against the corner of her mouth.

She swallowed hard but remained perfectly still.

“Thoroughly and utterly,” he kissed the other side of her
mouth, “extraordinary. And in case that isn’t clear enough…I love you. I don’t
think I could possibly love anything more than I love you.”

Tears flowed down her cheeks, soaking the palm still
cupping her face. With his thumbs he wiped the tears away then kissed each wet cheek,
ending with a long gentle kiss on her lips.

And there he was, at the bottom of that cliff. Ready to catch
her. She should have known all along.

“Marcelo,” she said, embarrassed of how her voice
trembled, but she met those deep, brown eyes and held his gaze. “If you claim
me as your mate, then I claim you too. You are mine just as much as I am
yours.”

“
Querida
, I was yours the
moment I tucked you into bed with me at that hotel in Albany.”

“And I was yours when you told me that god-awful joke
about bloodhounds.” He chuckled in response. “And I love you too.”

He pulled her into his embrace, holding her head against
his warm chest. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

They sat in silence, holding one another. After a few
minutes, when Aila had finally gained control of her emotions, she pushed away
and said, “No, really. Where did you get the sword?”

He laid back against the pillow, pulling her down with
him, and gathering her into his arms. “Well, I used to be a privateer.”

“A privateer? What’s that?”

“I believe it’s what you would call a pirate.”

She lifted her head from his chest to look him in the eye.
“You used to be a pirate?”

“Yes. And I...commandeered the sword.”

Arching a brow she asked, “Is that a nice way of saying
you stole it?”

“Something like that.”

She nestled into the crook of his arm. “A pirate,” she
mumbled. “I bet you were a sexy pirate. Will you dress up for me sometime?”

He laughed, a rich sound that resonated deep in his
belly. “That depends. Will you dress up too?” Abruptly he swung his body to cover
hers. “You can be my wench.”

She squealed when he pulled the sheet out from between them
and captured a nipple in his mouth.

“And I’ll say c’mere me buxom beauty,” he muttered into
her skin with a thick pirate accent. “You have the finest pirate’s booty I ever
laid eyes on.”

Her body shook with laughter. “I think I might dub you
king of the worst jokes ever.”

He nipped her breast and she jerked beneath him. “How you
wound my ego.”

When the last of her chuckles faded, she threaded her
hands in his hair tugging him up to her lips. “Marcelo,” she whispered against
his mouth, “make love to me again.”

He gazed down at her with pure male pride. “I’ve never
heard finer words.”

A rowdy commotion sounded from below, interrupting their
passionate kiss. Aila shot upright in the bed. She was a few seconds behind Marcelo,
who’d already pulled jeans on and swung open the door.

He pinned her with a stern glare. “Stay here,” he
ordered, then disappeared.

She snorted. “Yeah right.” She pulled on one of Marcelo’s
t-shirts she found in the dresser then ran out the door, following the sound of
the voices – one of which was familiar.

Halfway down a grand staircase that opened to a large
stone foyer, she slowed her pace as five sets of untamed eyes were trained on
her. The large bodies surrounded something, or someone, that she couldn’t see
but had a feeling was important. The men were huge, covered in leather, and
holding a variety of archaic weapons – the kind that would ensure a very slow
and painful death. All in all, they were terrifying.

She reached the bottom of the stairwell and her gaze
swept the room for Marcelo. She panicked when she couldn’t find him. Five sets
of eyes slowly made their way down her body and she remembered she was bare
from mid-thigh down. Her face flushed.

“Aila!” an angry voice snapped from behind her. She
jumped at the sharpness then sighed in relief. Marcelo appeared in front of
her, frowning at her lack of clothing. He pushed her behind his massive body,
obstructing her view of the scene. When she tried to peek around him, he growled
and tossed a furious look over his shoulder. She had the urge to shove him but
considering the company, being covered didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

“What’s going on?” Marcelo asked in a commanding voice.

Someone answered immediately, likely accustomed to
following his orders. “We found this lone fae trespassing on our property.”

Lone fae? She tried to step around Marcelo but he backed
her into the stair railing and wouldn’t budge.

“Do you have his weapons?” Marcelo asked.

“Of course.”

“Then step back and allow me to address him.”

She heard the shuffling of feet then the familiar voice
spoke. “I’m here to see Aila Quinn.”

“Kieran!” she exclaimed, shoving at Marcelo’s back. “Oh,
for goodness sake, he’s my friend!”

“Leave us,” Marcelo ordered the other men. She listened
as the footsteps faded, then shoved at him again. Finally he stepped aside.

She ran to Kieran and threw her arms around his neck.
Thankfully Marcelo’s t-shirt was big enough to keep her behind covered, just
barely. She ignored the growl behind her.

“What are you doing here?” She stepped back and took in
his solemn expression. “What’s wrong?”

Kieran didn’t answer. His gaze shifted from her face to
Marcelo then he clasped his hands together and took a step back.
What the hell?

She spun around and met Marcelo’s dark stare. His fists
were clenched at his sides, his shoulders tense, his lips curled in a snarl. Suddenly
he looked just like the men she’d been terrified of only a few moments before.
Deciding not to push her luck, she stepped away from Kieran and placed herself
at Marcelo’s side. He wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulders. She stood
on tiptoes and pressed a kiss into his neck, letting him know she was still
his.

His furious glare left Kieran and set upon her instead.
“I told you to stay upstairs.”

It was one thing to act possessive, quite another to act
like a dictator. She shot him a dirty look. “No. He’s here to see me. It’s my
right to know what’s going on.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest in a
motion of determination. When his impassive gaze moved back and forth between
her and Kieran, she added, “Don’t want to see me with him? Then
you
wait upstairs.”

His chest rumbled in warning but she held her ground.
Finally, he gave a long sigh, pulled her tight against his body, and motioned
for Kieran to talk.

“Zealots have instigated war with the Seelie fae,” he
said. “We’re too evenly matched. We’ll wipe each other out. I’m trying to
negotiate a peace treaty but we just don’t trust each other. We need help.”

Aila stepped out of Marcelo’s grasp and commanded, “Take
me there.”

Marcelo was too quick with a firm, “No.”

Oh boy.

“I don’t want to come between you,” Kieran continued,
“but Aila is the only one who can stop this once and for all.”

Marcelo didn’t acknowledge Kieran’s pleading. He kept his
gaze on Aila.

“Take me there now!”

“Aila, I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you –”

“Shut it!” she snapped, then put a hand up to stop any
coming protest. Marcelo flinched at the uncharacteristic tone. Ignoring the
chuckle behind them, Aila continued, softer, “I’m supposed to do this, Marcelo.
I just know it. It’s…in my blood or something.”

She huffed in frustration and rubbed her forehead when
his face remained unmovable. “You said you would compromise instead of just
imposing your will on me.”

He sighed. “Be reasonable, Aila. If the Seelie see you,
they’ll kill you on the spot. It’s too dangerous.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course! It’s the bloody fae I don’t trust!” Behind
them Kieran scoffed. “I only get one mate,
querida
.”
The back of his hand trailed down her cheek. “You can’t expect me to allow you
to walk right into the middle of a war zone.”

“They haven’t begun fighting,” Kieran said. “Not yet. But
they will if we don’t act quickly. I’ve arranged a meeting between the light
and dark fae leaders. Since Aila is a blood heir of both, I think she could
help.”