Embracing Midnight (27 page)

T
he bathing area attached to Iollan’s cell held a sink, toilet, and shower unit, a decent and comfortable size.

Callie watched him strip off the remnants of his shirt and toss it aside. Her gaze lingered on his bare chest, his sculpted biceps. He was lean and trim, with not a spare ounce of fat to trouble his body. Abdomen tightly drawn, as if etched in stone, he was filled out in all the right places. Scars, too, marred his pale skin, a long one tearing across his abdomen. Smaller, less prominent ones dotted his neck and shoulders. He, too, had once fed the hunger of a vampire.

A tingle of attraction warmed her insides. Close to drooling, she jerked her gaze away. Excitement simmered beneath the relief of seeing him back on his feet.

Lust teemed, coiling in her womb. “Oh, God.”

Bending to pull off his boots, he glanced up. “What?”

Callie realized she was holding her breath and let it out. He seemed to be coming back to a normal semblance of his self. He was uncomfortable, but trying to stay calm—for her sake as much as his own.

“You. Just looking at you makes me ache inside.”

Iollan raised his brows, but didn’t respond right away. Setting his boots aside, he ran his hands through his hair, the long, raven-shaded strands falling back in messy layers perfectly framing his strong jaw. “In a good way, I hope.” Wry humor briefly touched his voice.

Callie lifted her chin, smiling. She knew he was uncomfortable, trying to make the best of a terrible situation. He’d calmed down since the cuffs had come off, and seemed more rational, more settled.

Her gaze traveled down his body, snagging on his narrow waist, the low-slung jeans hugging his hips like a second skin. Need delivered a potent kick between her legs. “A very good way.”

Giving a sulky smile, Iollan’s hands settled at the top of his jeans, undoing only the single top button. Coppery eyes smoldered, a sultry hue. His zipper crunched down. He watched her reaction steadily, heat radiating in his gaze. His own expression made his thoughts crystal clear.

Callie’s mouth went dry at the peek of dark curls. Her heart immediately skipped a beat. The animalistic male power he exuded overwhelmed her like a gigantic wave. Desire burst over her in a flood of moist warmth. A wedge of air blocked her throat. All she heard was the sudden rush of blood in her ears, echoing the pulse of need rising in her gut.

Somehow she grabbed hold of her wits before they flew off and left her a drooling, sex-crazed idiot. She made a choked sound, a groan maybe. She wasn’t sure. All she wanted was to reach for him, to touch him. “Looks to me like you’re getting your strength back.”

He didn’t have to ask what she meant. He knew.

Iollan showed her his wrists. The thin lines of the punctures had faded, almost gone. The deep scratches he’d inflicted clawing at the cuffs had closed into red puffy scars. “It doesn’t take long to heal once the silver leaves my system.”

His eyes looked brighter than they’d been a few minutes ago. Electricity jolted through her. She trembled, feeling the shiver all the way to the tips of her toes. “Is it selfish to say I want you?”

Iollan reached for her, pulling her close. The feel of his hands settling on her hips drew another pulse of her twitchy energy closer to the surface. “No more selfish than I was.” His voice was very soft. “I wanted you, too.” His intimate touch surprised as much as his words.

Tears pressing behind her eyes, Callie squeezed her lids shut. “I didn’t want to tell them where you were,” she confessed in a rush. “They invaded my mind, used drugs. I had no choice.”

Iollan’s hand slid under her chin, tipping her head back. “Don’t blame yourself,” he gently chided.

Exhaling heavily, Callie reluctantly opened her eyes. “I do, because you trusted me.” She tried to smile, and failed. “You showed me what you were, and I betrayed that.”

Gazing into her eyes, he tenderly stroked his thumb across her lips. Her skin tingled as desire whispered up her spine. His gaze was so calm, so gentle. He had no anger toward her, blamed her for nothing. She held her breath, waiting.

“Against your own will.” Iollan’s stroke grew heated, more insistent. The firm pressure of his thumb stroking her lips ushered in a whole new rush of pure liquid pleasure. “If I’m going to lose my life, at least I got my wish of one more day with you.”

Heat ripped through her. Her body yearned to feel his hands touch her in all the ways she knew he could, exploring all her hidden places until she cried out with pleasure. “This isn’t our last time.”

Silent for a moment, Iollan’s throat worked. “Don’t make promises.” He sighed without bitterness. “Just let me enjoy having you here, now.”

He kissed her, mouth thoroughly plundering. His tongue skimmed across her lips, the nip of his teeth scraped.

Callie stiffened a fraction of a second, then melted into his arms, need tearing through her like a racer burning rubber on the track. The nerves in her belly eased as other sensations replaced them, a sharp tug of pure pleasure. Moaning her need into his mouth, her hands worked inside his jeans, sliding them down his hips and over his ass.

Breaking their kiss, Iollan stepped out of his jeans. Gloriously naked, his grin held no shame. “Seems to me someone is overdressed.”

A blush turned her cheeks hot. “Then do something about it,” she dared in a low, breathy voice.

He did. Experienced fingers unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her creamy breasts in their lacy bra. Impatiently, he unsnapped the catch. He cupped her breasts, thumbs lightly brushing her erect nipples.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on the sensations he evoked. “That feels so good.”

Iollan’s hands slid down to her waist. “I try to please.” His accented voice rumbled, sultry and teasing. His eyes locked with hers, and a slow smile turned up his lips. “But it wouldn’t be fitting to make love to such a lovely lady when I stink like a hog.”

The vision of suds slipping over his smooth skin caused her to shiver. If nothing else, the man was civilized. She’d have taken him without benefit of a bath.

Opening the shower door, he turned on the taps. Hot water flowed out, a steaming cloud filling the air around him. His gaze caught hers, beckoning. “You can join me, if you like.”

Stepping under the water, he closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, clearly enjoying the silky water as it eased the tension in his neck and shoulders.

Callie stood, entranced by the sight of the water sluicing across his shoulders and down his back. The flex of muscles in his arms and shoulders was poetry in motion as he commenced to wash himself. Round and firm, his ass was peach ripe, perfect for biting.

And she wanted a taste.

Kicking off her shoes, the rest of her clothing quickly followed. She stepped in behind him, rubbing her hands across his broad shoulders. “Need a little help with your back?”

He glanced behind him and waggled a brow. “Any time.” He handed over the soap. “At your leisure.” The low intimate timbre of his voice caused her legs to tremble.

Slicking her hands with suds, Callie kneaded the soap into his shoulders, tracing along the blades and down his spine. Her palms roamed.

Shifting his legs apart, Iollan flexed his shoulders. His breath hitched. “Umm…feels good.”

“You feel good.” Callie stroked her hands over his hips, briefly cupping his ass with soapy hands. “Turn around.”

Iollan obediently turned.

She continued washing, working over his chest, down his arms, washing away the dried blood flecking his pale skin. Holding one of his hands in hers, she worked each finger. Iollan had big hands, strong hands. His fingernails were longish, square tipped. His wide palms were heavily calloused.

A thought occurred. “Can I ask you something?”

A tic twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I suppose.”

She smiled tentatively. All her nerves came rushing back. “Who were you? I mean, before, when you were human?”

Iollan studied her face a moment. “Nobody, I suppose. Just a poor working man.”

“Your accent,” she started to say.

“Is Irish,” he murmured. “I was born there, in 1813.”

Surprise curled in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes widened in surprise. “That makes you…” She tried to do a mental calculation and failed. A hot, naked male and hot steamy water clouded her mind.

He made a face. “One hundred and ninety-four years old.” A pause. “Not too old for you, am I?”

Her throat thickened. She swallowed. “How did you become, ah, one of them.”

A soft laugh escaped. “Quite by accident.” His gaze blanked with memory. “I was thirty-two when the blight hit, bringing the famine that would kill so many of us. My wife, my daughters, the land…When you’re poor, no amount of prayer or hope can help you. I was born and raised Catholic, but I gave up on God then.”

His words struck with more force than a bullet ripping through fragile flesh. Her throat worked, fighting off the rise of sick torment. “I’m sorry I asked.”

He smiled, and her heart tightened at the trace of unhappiness haunting his eyes. He looked a million miles away, as the horror of the memories replayed in his mind. “I hated being human, and I hated being weak. Nothing I could do but keep myself together, no matter how much I didn’t want to.”

Callie had no response. Never in a thousand years would she have guessed him to be nearly two centuries old. “I’m glad you did,” she said, striving to keep emotion out of her voice.

A shudder wracked him. He quickly mastered it. “I didn’t leave Ireland intending to live. I just left to find my death somewhere else. In England, I found work, keeping the gardens of a lady who loved her flowers. She only came out at night, though, walking the paths along the grounds. So pale…And her eyes. I loved her eyes.”

Callie reached up, touching the tip of her finger to the softness under his left eye. “Like yours are now,” she whispered, shuddering delicately. “Pure liquid fire.”

His breath sighed out with his nod. “Yes. We soon became lovers and she showed me her world, asked me to join her.” His throat worked as he recalled the memory of the time. “Everything she was, I wanted to be.”

Callie hung on his every word, entranced. “And so you became one of them?”

“I had nothing to lose,” Iollan admitted. “And everything to gain. The night she gave me my symbiont, I became a man reborn. It became a part of me, and I became a part of it.”

Breath jerky and shallow, she had to ask a final question. “Are you sorry you became one of
them
?”

Iollan shook his head. “My symbiont and I are one, and I have no regret of that. No one’s forced to take that step into their world. That isn’t their way.” He reached out caressing her cheek. Though he spoke steadily, he watched her with an intensity that delved deep. “When the Niviane Idesha found our world, they only wanted to settle and survive, something we all want in life.”

Trembling, Callie pressed his palm to her face. His words, so sincerely spoken, touched her. Her soul silently cried out, craving the passion and love of this incredible man. “I want that, too.”

Iollan’s arms circled her, his tall frame melding with hers. “I wanted to give you the gift.” Large masculine hands searched for and then stroked her nipples. “Many times.” His head came down. A hungry mouth nibbled lightly at her lips. The erotic nibbles felt like small electrical charges on her skin. His eagerness thrilled her to the bone.

Callie whispered against his mouth. “I would have accepted.” She longed to be kissing him, having him hold her. She wanted him to spread her legs and penetrate her, go deep inside her, feel his taut abdomen against her belly, hear his breath in her ear, and match the pounding of her heart with the pounding of his cock.

Head tilted down, Iollan parted his fine lips. His arresting eyes sparkled with pleasure. The gleam of anticipation was unmistakable. “Maybe someday you will.” Never flickering, his gaze was liquid heat. With that one scorching look, he owned her. Body and soul. The unmistakable urgency of sex radiated from him, laced with a deeper need to make more than a physical connection.

Callie’s arms circled his neck. “Why wait for someday?” she murmured softly. She couldn’t let him go. She’d never let him go.

He kissed her again.

She accepted his kiss, her tongue darting out to tangle with his. His hands roamed her body, which was slender and strong under his touch. She quivered with tension, a fine flush rising up over her throat. With water beating down on her skin, she felt as though her brain had melted. A delicious lassitude crept over her, dulling her wits. She felt as if she’d been drugged, but she didn’t care. All she pictured was her body writhing beneath his. Impossible not to imagine how her legs would feel wrapped around him.

“Touch me,” she murmured.

Iollan nibbled the tip of her upturned chin. “Gladly.” He skimmed his hands down her back, finding the round curve of her ass. He lightly slid his fingers between her crack, gently caressing.

Callie grasped the rail of the shower and leaned back. “All over my body.”

Iollan’s mouth covered a nipple. Sucking hungrily, he massaged her free breast, teasing the nipple by rolling it between thumb and forefinger. “I want to please you.” He kissed the softness between her breasts. “Taste you…”