Dreamer (17 page)

Nodding, she tensed as he kicked her feet apart. When his
big hand made contact with her ass, she whimpered and jerked on the rod. Sharp
pain instantly blossomed on her bottom.

“We haven't had a chance to go over your limits, and I
apologize for that. But I will not tolerate any backtalk from you. If anything
becomes too much for you to handle, say the word
ice
. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. My safe word is ice.”

“Good girl. Now, time for your punishment.”

Her clit swelled in anticipation, and her mind seemed to
slow as her focus moved from what she was thinking to what she was feeling.
And, right now, she was feeling incredibly turned on by Devon's easy dominance.

“Let's see if you can hear me now.” Another spank punctuated
his words. “Do.”
Spank
. “Not.”
Spank.
“Come.”

Biting down on her lips, she wriggled beneath his slaps.
While the spanks felt good, they weren't enough to make her orgasm. She would
have to endure the stinging kiss of his hand. That brief thought shattered as
his other hand began to stroke between the wet and swollen lips of her labia
with each slap. So good, so much pleasure, the spanking and stroking made her
break out into a sweat. Adrenaline flooded her body and mixed with the desire,
sinking her deeper into a state of pure awareness.

She barely registered his slaps coming lighter as he flicked
the tip of his finger over her engorged clit. Struggling with herself, she
minutely twitched her hips to avoid his finger. If she didn't, he was going to
make her come against her will.

“Turn.”

Confused, she looked up at him and swayed. The desire in his
eyes melted her, and his dark psychic scent stroked against her. There was no
expression on his face other than concentration. The coldness in his gaze
turned her on and she arched her hips to him, gratification moving through her
as his nostrils flared and his eyes went wide. He unlatched her hands and spun her
around before repositioning her hold on the clothes rod. She widened her stance
without being told and panted. The fire of her bottom burned through her blood
and throbbed almost as bad as her pussy.

Licking her lips, she studied him. So caught up in admiring
the fullness of his lips, she screamed as the first light slap hit her pussy.

“Look at how red you are.” He purred in her ear and spanked
her again. “Your clit feels like a hard pearl in the middle of all that wet
softness.” Another slap, harder this time, and she screamed again for him.
Spreading her moisture around her clit, he gently rubbed the hood back and
forth. She shook beneath his touch, straining against the rod.

“Please, Sir. Please, Master, I need you. Please”

Devon’s fingers stilled against her, leaving her straining
for his touch. “Say it again. Call me Master.”

“Please, Master.”

“I wish I could fuck your right now, Kitten, but if I start
I won’t stop and we need to go.” He took a shuddering breath. “Now, go take a
shower.”

Trying to focus on his face, she thrust her hips against his
hand in a silent plea. His lips quirked in a suppressed smile, but he simply
pulled his hand away and licked her wetness off his fingers. A protest died
behind her lips before she could even pull in air. She wanted him, and the only
way to have him was to follow his orders and please him. The thought was almost
as erotic as the burning sting of his hand on her body.

Releasing her hands, she sagged for a moment against him. He
didn't push her away, but he didn't embrace her either. The feeling of her
thighs pressing against her sex had her shuddering. As soon as she got in the
shower, she was going to masturbate—a couple of times.

“Kitten,” he said, his voice holding a chiding tone, “don't
even think about coming.” She froze and looked over her shoulder at him. “That
one little orgasm is nothing compared to what I offer. And, if you disobey me,
it's all you're going to get.”

His hand drifted down and pulled the tip of his cock out of
his shorts. She turned fully, gripping her hands into fists. The veins on the
sides of his erection stood out, and he stroked the shaft with a strong grip.
“Save yourself for me, and I will save this for you.”

He tucked himself away with a casual movement and turned his
back on her, inspecting her clothes.

****

Shan had to admit that Devon had good taste. The vintage
mint-green silk dress hugged her chest before flowing out into a full skirt
that fell to her knees. A white satin bow cinched the waist, and one of her
silver rose pins glittered at the hip. He must have been paying attention to
her taste in shoes as well. Instead of going for a pair of heels, he selected a
pair of lace-up white Victorian boots that stopped just below mid-thigh that
reached just below her knee. It did her heart good that he hadn’t tried to
dress her conservatively, she did have some clothes left in her closet from her
ex-boyfriend that she hadn’t pitched yet, but rather went for something at once
elegant and her. Almost made up for his erotic spanking and denial.

Her ass and pussy still tingled and stung from his spanking
and she tried to keep from squirming beneath his regard.

“Stunning,” he whispered into her ear as they stood in the
morning sunlight, waiting for the elevator. The inside of the hospice was not
at all what she expected. Instead of having sterile white walls and cheap
linoleum, the building looked more like an expensive hotel. A smell that she
could only describe as medicine still hung in the air, but it wasn't
overpowering.

“I still haven't forgiven you,” she whispered back and tried
to keep the smile off her lips.

“You will.”

She snorted, but held her tongue as the doors opened. On the
other side, an older man wiped his eyes and turned his head away. Devon pressed
the number for their floor, and Shan nervously shifted her purse. He had done a
good job of distracting her from the reason they were here, but now, as the
elevator rose to their floor, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow.

Without looking at Devon, she slipped her hand into his and
gave it a squeeze. She couldn't imagine what it was like to watch one of your
parents die. The thought made her breath catch in her throat.

Seeming to sense her emotions, Devon raised her hand to his
lips. “No tears. My father is going to be thrilled to meet you.”

Gulping, she blinked rapidly in an effort to clear her
vision. “I'm okay. It's just…I've never been around anyone...you know.” She
shifted as the elevator doors opened and the man behind them moved forward.

The old man paused and held the doors open, turning to look
at Shan. “Death is another part of life.” His gaze wandered down to their
joined hands. “Enjoy the blessings of the world and do everything you can to
protect them.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded. If she tried to speak, she
would end up crying.

The doors closed, and Devon pulled her in for a hug.

“Stop that,” she muttered and smacked his chest. “You're
going to mess up my hair.”

Chuckling, he placed a kiss on her forehead. “I love what
you did with it. You look like something out of an old movie.”

She patted her carefully styled curls. “Thanks. I use hot
rollers to get the volume, and then it's a matter of pinning the curls until
they set. I was going to put a flower in the top, but I didn't have time to dig
one out and I—”

He cut her babbling off with a kiss. “I can't wait to see
that hair spread out over your bare back. I've grown very”—he punctuated his
words with a soft bite of her lip—”very fond of the way the blue streaks look
against your skin when it's flushed with passion.”

All she could do was shiver and clutch her purse. “Devon,
behave.”

The doors opened, and he led them down a long, wide hallway.
She felt his mood shift, and he reached for her hand. It startled her how aware
she had already become of him. A few days ago she wouldn't have noticed the
tension in his jaw or the way his shoulders tightened.

Tugging her to a stop, he hesitated before a closed door and
said in a low voice, “My mother is inside with my father. She’s a Chosen of
Isis, so lock your shields down tight. My mother's control is not…not so good
right now.”

She concentrated on firming her shielding and felt slightly
better. Maybe the sorrow she was feeling wasn't only her own. She'd have to ask
Devon later if she could pick up on other people's emotions. “Got it.”

Squeezing her hand one more time, Devon knocked and opened
the door.

Even after preparing herself for the sight of his father,
she couldn't help freezing in the doorway for a brief moment. It wasn't the
variety of medical equipment or the IVs going in and out of his frail arms that
disturbed her. It wasn’t the fact that his skin was as thin as parchment. It
was the teal-blue eyes, an exact copy of Devon's, staring out of the wasted
face that made her breath catch. They still had all the vitality and power of a
younger man, but were sunken back in a face lined with age and illness.

“Devon,” a woman said, her melodious voice tinged with an
exotic accent.

Shan smiled at the older, beautiful woman she’d met at the
bazaar. Now, instead of her ceremonial robes, she wore a pair of tailored pants
and a long, flowing white shirt. Her gray-streaked black hair was pulled back
into a ponytail, and her dark skin somehow had a pale undertone in the
fluorescent lighting.

“Hello, Mother.” Devon grabbed her up in a hug and placed a
gentle kiss on her cheek. She cupped his chin and leaned her forehead into his
before stepping back and turning to face Shan. Devon placed his hand on Shan's
lower back and said, “This is my girl, Shan Harrison.”

As Shan gaped at Devon’s calling her his ‘girl’ Mrs. King
took a step forward. “It is good to see you again, Shan.

Tearing her eyes away from Devon, who was ignoring her, she
smiled. “Hello, Mrs. King, it’s nice to see you as well.”

“Please, call me Nuri. I’m also glad to see that you two are
no longer fighting.”

Remembering the last time Nuri had seen them fighting at the
bazaar, a hot blush stained Shan’s face as she muttered, “Give us five
minutes.”

Nuri laughed and wrapped her arms around Shan in an
unexpected embrace. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and some exotic spice
broke through her shields. Gods, Nuri's power was overwhelming. It breached her
shields as if they weren't even there. Nuri pulled back and placed her
fingertips on her cheek. She shook beneath her hand as Nuri said in a soft
voice, “You are your mother's daughter.”

“Wha-what?” Shan stumbled as Devon pulled her away and put
her behind him.

“Mom?”

“Devon, it's all right,” his father said in a low, deep
voice from his bed. “Shan, sometimes Nuri has prophecies. Don’t worry, since
it’s a prophecy you won’t be able to do shit about it because the gods love to
give us poor mortals riddles we’ll never solve.”

Feeling like the world was sliding beneath her feet, Shan
clung to Devon's arm. “What are you talking about? I don't even know who my
mother is.”

The warm power pulled back, and Shan desperately tried to
rebuild her shields. Devon pulled her tight to his side and looped his arm
around her waist in a protective gesture. For a moment red flared across her
body and she gasped at the feeling of Devon’s energy blanketing her, completely
blocking out his mother’s influence. He slipped his arm around her and pulled
her close to his body.

Rubbing her eyes, Nuri grimaced. “I'm so sorry, Shan. I’m
shielded better now.”

She took a deep breath, and all traces of Nuri’s psychic
scent disappeared. “What just happened.”

“Evidently Isis had a message for you.”

“The—” Shan took a deep breath and tried to compose herself.
“I don’t understand.”

Devon drew her against him, hugging her tight before
whispering against her head, “No one ever understands prophecies, if they did
all the seers would be out of business.”

Harsh coughs rent the air, and all three turned toward
Devon's father as Nuri hurried over to his side. Holding a white washcloth to
his mouth, she cradled him and tried to soothe him through his racking coughs.
The washcloth came away flecked with blood, and Nuri tried to hide it from
them.

Shan took one look at the pain on Devon’s face and easily
shoved aside her own panic and fear. She could freak out later. Right now, this
was about Devon and his father. Tears welled up again, and she tried to swallow
them down.

“Come here, little one,” Devon's father said in a rough
voice. He held his veined hand out, and she winced at the bruises there from
past IV insertions.

Devon relaxed his grip enough for her to pull away, and she
hesitantly approached him. When he continued to hold his hand out, she gently
laid her hand in his. No feelings of power or psychic scents invaded her, and
she relaxed. If anything, his touch helped push back the sorrow brushing
against her shields. His skin felt as smooth and fragile as silk, despite the
large bones beneath.

“You are very pretty.” He smiled at her, and his eyes
twinkled with a hint of mischief. “I always did love dark-eyed women. You can
see their souls in their gaze.”

Chuckling, Devon moved up behind her and pulled over a chair
for her. The sight of his robust body and good health next to his father's
frailty made her even more aware of the shortness of his time here. Shit, she
was mortal as well, and even more fragile than Devon, yet up to this moment had
never really thought about her own death in a real way. The sight of Devon’s
father living his last days on earth made her suddenly desperate to take Devon
somewhere private and prove they were both alive, healthy, and living.

Still holding her hand, Devon's father said, “My name is
Johnathan, and it is truly a pleasure to meet you.” He raised her hand and
brushed his dry lips across the back. “Devon seems to have acquired my
appreciation for exotic beauties.”

Devon made a warning rumble next to her, and Nuri laughed as
she took her chair on the other side of the bed. Johnathan reached out for
Nuri's hand and gave a happy sigh. “Surrounded by such splendor, I can die a
happy man.”

Taken aback, Shan started to tell him that she was sure he
was going to live a long time, but their laughter cut her off. Johnathan closed
his eyes for a moment, and they all watched his chest rise and fall as he
struggled to regain his breathing.

Nuri broke the silence. “Devon, I have a favor to ask of
you.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to bring Shan to the Wild Hunt and have her wear
a cloak of Isis. I've sent one to your office at the Temple Guard for her.”

Looking back and forth between Devon and Nuri, Shan watched
the silent communication between them and wondered what the heck was going on.
Devon's glower deepened to a glare, and Nuri remained resolute.

Devon tensed next to her. “I don't think it's a good idea.
All those Chosen in one place will overwhelm her if she hasn’t been—”

“Devon, this is not a request.” Nuri's tone turned hard. “I
cannot leave your father's side. Something has—” She glanced at Shan. “Our
prophets have foreseen some issues. It is a dangerous time for all of us,
especially your father.”

“What are you talking about? A dangerous time for dad?”
Devon's voice deepened in anger and rose in volume. “He's my father too! I have
every right—”

“You will obey me in this!” Nuri yelled back, and a wash of
energy prickled over Shan's skin like a thousand tiny pinpricks. Devon's energy
flared in response, and his heat burned against her.

Trapped between their auras, she made a low moan at the
pain, and Johnathan anxiously stroked her hand. “Shan, are you all right?”

Devon's energy rolled off her in the next breath, and she
gasped in relief. “You expect me to leave you here, alone, to handle—”

“I expect you to honor and trust me!” Nuri yelled back.

Staring at them, Shan was pretty sure she knew where Devon
got his temper from now.

“Silence!”

A woman's voice cut through the air like a whip, and they
all turned toward the door. A stunning young Hispanic woman in purple scrubs
with her hair pulled back in a bun glared at them. Cartoon characters cavorted
on her scrubs, but her expression was so stern it was almost scary. She rubbed
the long sleeves of her undershirt over her arms and strode into the room with
a purpose.

“Might I remind you that you are in a hospital?” She turned
her angry glare on Devon and Nuri, quickly assessing them as the cause of the
trouble. “That your anger and yelling are upsetting my patient?”

“But I—” Devon started to say and gaped at her as she pushed
a finger into his unyielding chest.

“But nothing, Mister Devon. This is my patient, and I won't
have you upsetting him.” The sleeve on her arm pulled back as she poked at
Devon, and Shan noticed with a start that scars covered the skin on the woman's
right wrist. The long scars distorted the skin up to her hand pointed at Devon,
and the pinky finger on that hand curled in on itself.

Nuri wisely kept her mouth shut and actually ducked her head
when the nurse's gaze settled on her. With a huff, the nurse turned to
Johnathan and gave him a smile that lit her face from within. The nurse gave
Shan a quick once-over, and she meekly looked back. No psychic scent, but this
woman clearly ruled the room at this moment.

“It's okay, Aliya.” Johnathan laughed out loud and released
Shan's hand after a squeeze. “They were just discussing who was going to make
it to the Super Bowl this year. I'm sorry we caused you any discomfort. You
know I live for your sponge baths.”

Shan gave a choked gasp while Nuri's husky laughter rolled
over the room. The tension level dropped, and Johnathan relaxed back into his
pillows. The strain of even their brief conversation was evident in the small
tremors that now shook his hands.

Snorting, Aliya straightened the sheets around Johnathan,
and the sleeves of her shirt tugged up, revealing more shiny scars on her arms.
“Mister Johnathan, don't you try to charm me.” Her voice was stern, but her
full lips twitched with a grin. “They were putting off some bad vibes on my
floor.”

Shan tried not to stare, but the smooth and almost plastic
look of the scars on Aliya's forearm and wrist was something she had never seen
before. Aliya glanced up at her and caught her gawking. Her cheeks flushed with
an overtone of pink, and Shan quickly looked away. She felt as though she
should apologize for staring but didn't know what to say without making the
situation worse.

Nuri's eyebrows rose, and she exchanged a quick look with
Johnathan. “My apologies, Aliya. We didn't realize you would feel our anger.”

Giving them all one last glare, Aliya moved back to the
door. “This is a place of love. Nuri, I don't care if you have to take your
son's butt outside and spank him behind the woodshed for his sass, but don't do
it in here.” With that, she closed the door after herself and left them all
gaping.

Unable to help herself, Shan started to giggle. The look of
shock on Devon's face was too delicious. He glared at her, and that didn't
help. The giggles choked in her throat and turned into laughter. From across
the bed, Nuri started to laugh too and then Johnathan. Soon all of them were
clutching their sides and howling.

With stiff shoulders, Devon lifted his chin and said, “When
you're done imitating a hyena, I'll be waiting for you outside, Shan.” He gave
Nuri a narrow-eyed look. “We'll go to the Wild Hunt, but I expect some
answers.”

Turning on his heel, he stalked out the door, muttering
curses underneath his breath.

Still giggling, Shan stood and smoothed her dress. “I better
catch up to him, he’s my ride. It was nice meeting you.”

“Give an old man a kiss,” Johnathan said with a smile.

Bending down, Shan brushed her lips over his cheek. His skin
was fever-hot and felt so thin over the bones of his face.

“Ahh.” He sighed. “Death's gossamer wings could be no more
gentle than your lips.”

Blinking, Shan looked over to Nuri, who was smiling fondly down
at her husband. “Don't worry, Shan. Johnathan has a morbid sense of humor.”

“One of the things you love about me,” Johnathan added and
reached toward Nuri. She held his shaking hand to her cheek and gently rubbed
her face back and forth.

Nuri's dark eyes sharpened as she turned her gaze back to
Shan. “Make sure Devon gives you a cloak of Isis to wear to the Hunt.”

“Uh, okay.” She clutched her purse. “What is the Hunt?”

“A gathering of Chosen and High Priests and Priestesses. I
believe your parents will be there as well.” Nuri set Johnathan's hand down and
stood, moving over to Shan's side of the bed. “Don't worry. You won't have to
kill anything.”

Shan's shoulders relaxed. “Good, I'm not too big on hunting
my own food. I like it wrapped in plastic or cooked on my plate. Not too big on
the in-between process.”

Johnathan gave a coughing laugh from the bed. “You won't be
chasing an actual animal. You'll be chasing a spell. The Golden Boar.”

“Oh, okay.” Shan glanced at the door where Devon undoubtedly
stood stewing in the hallway.

Nuri gave Shan a hug. “Go find my son and try not to be too
hard on him. He's quite fond of you and more sensitive than I think you
realize.”

Shan tried to fight the blush rising to her cheeks. “It was
nice meeting you.”