Glow (4 page)

Beckoning him.

He swatted her firmly, squeezing taut, hot flesh, punishing her for trying to set the pace yet again . . . rewarding her for her singular beauty.

“Alice,” he hissed, tested by the vision of her arousal. Her abandon. “Open your eyes.”

He saw her eyelids flicker.

“Look at yourself in the window,” he commanded. Deliberately, he peeled her T-shirt over the globes of her breast and her head, exposing the beautiful stretch of her naked back. He tossed aside the shirt, his gaze trained on her. Her skin was such a lovely color—peaches and cream where she didn't tan, a coppery apricot where she did. The vision of her pale suspended breasts in the window made him clamp his teeth hard. He'd never known another woman to compare to her. He watched himself in the glass as he stroked her taut belly and suspended breasts for a moment. His cock raged for her.

“You're going to watch me fuck you. You're not going to forget that, are you?” he asked, ripping at his button fly and jerking down his jeans. Despite his hasty actions, he kept his eyes pinned to her luminous face in the black pane.

Her lips framed an emphatic
no
.

He kicked aside his jeans and moved behind her, his cock a heavy ache. She instinctively bent several inches when he held her hips, positioning herself. He grasped his cock and pulled back a hot ass cheek, feral arousal shooting through him at the vision of unspanked white skin in the crack of her ass and her glossy pink sex.

He moved his cock toward her slit. The angle wasn't ideal, but he was determined to make it work. He'd understood Alice's unspoken desire somehow. She wanted to be branded here. She wanted to make this space her own. Theirs.

He was more than happy to give her what she wanted. They'd create more memories, but this was a damn good start.

He lifted his foot, placing it on the cushion next to her knees. He lodged his cockhead at her damp, clamping channel. The angle was much more hospitable now.

“Say it out loud, Alice,” he ordered tensely, holding her hips firmly.

“I'll
never
forget.”

He plunged his cock into the heaven of her. Her whimper segued to a loud wail.

“Oh God. I'll never forget this. You. Never. Never,” she chanted as he began to drive in and out of her sleek body, and their mutual, volatile passion was broadcast like a blazing beacon onto the dark window.

*   *   *

HE
saw the light and the figures and immediately plunged into the hedge to hide himself, alarmed he'd be seen. Cautiously, he looked again. A sweat broke out on his brow and neck. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Thad Schaefer didn't
want
to believe it, but he couldn't look away nonetheless. It was something no man should ever be forced to witness: the woman of his dreams being utterly sexually consumed by another man.

Damn Fall.

He'd been ordered here for a specific purpose. It'd never been
his
mission, but hadn't life proved to Thad so far that he'd always be at the mercy and bidding of someone else? Although he'd been labeled a natural born leader on many occasions, the truth was he'd been bred into the role of follower. Not the follower of just
anyone
. He performed optimally when the disapproval or approval of a single alpha male was at stake, all thanks to his damn father—the original alpha.

Thad couldn't complete his assigned task if he left, no matter how much part of him longed to run until he collapsed from
exhaustion. Another part of him couldn't have walked away even if he'd used every ounce of his will.

He'd known what Alice was doing at the castle night after night with Dylan Fall. But he hadn't guessed
this.
It was one thing to experience the simmer of jealousy at the thought of Alice in another man's bed. But what he was watching at the present moment flayed him down to the bone.

Her naked body rocked and shuddered as Fall took her from behind, her breasts bouncing at the crash of flesh against flesh. Fall's possession wasn't violent, but it
was
forceful. Precise. Total.

To think you ever thought you had a fucking chance.

Her arms were suspended above her head on the frame between the two windows, but he could see the majority of her naked body through the glass. The skin over her ribs was stretched tight, her breasts a full, succulent contrast to her slender carriage. She was amazing; beyond even what he'd fantasized. But it wasn't just her exposed body that held him spellbound. It was what he could see displayed on Alice's face: the pure unadulterated lust and abandonment to the eroticism of the moment.

He thought he saw her wince as Fall became even more demanding. Thad started impulsively, nearly spilling forward onto the stone path and breaking his cover. Was Fall
hurting
her? He stilled, holding his breath, a snarl shaping his mouth.

No. His worries were for nothing. Alice reached between her thighs, still bracing herself with one hand, seeking the relief of release from intense pleasure, not pain.

No sooner had she buried her fingers between her thighs than Fall was grabbing her wrist and putting her hand back on the frame.
Bastard,
Thad thought, although his scorn didn't begin to fracture his focus on the unfolding scene.

Then Fall's hand was between her thighs, and he was thrusting powerfully again. A strange combination of respect and flaming jealousy tore through Thad.
Fall
had wanted to be the one to make
her climax. Or he'd been worried about her getting hurt if she didn't support her body adequately, as hard as he was taking her.

Or both, Thad acknowledged with a sinking feeling. It was bizarre and unprecedented for him to feel both sick and sharply aroused at once. Leave it to Alice.

Leave it to Fall,
he thought bitterly. Why couldn't Alice see how he was controlling her with his allure of power, money, and sex? He'd been learning a lot about Fall's ruthlessness. His skill at manipulation. Everyone in the business community knew he was used to getting precisely what he wanted. Previously, Thad had respected that characteristic . . . until he'd understood Fall had set his sights on Alice Reed.

Fall's hand moved faster between her thighs, and Alice tilted her head to the side. Thad could almost feel her peaking arousal. The night was pitch dark. Deep cloud cover remained after the storm, obliterating starlight. He could see the erotic tableau with surprising clarity in the lit large bay window. Alice's eyes were shut, as if her entire consciousness had narrowed down to the sensation of Fall taking her by storm. Even at this distance, Thad sensed her focus was absolute. In mixed dread and fascination, he watched as her lush lips parted and her face went tight.

Distantly, he heard her high keen of pleasure.

The sound was like a sharp screw twisting straight through flesh and bone to his very core. Thad wasn't sure how he survived that novel, distilled form of torture. But he stayed.

Until the bitter end.

*   *   *

HE
was rocking her so hard, slaking his lust on her, pounding his essence into her deep. Alice wanted it. She
loved
it. At the same time, it was almost too much pleasure and emotion for her to withstand. It hurt in a way that was beyond pain, such a sweet,
unbearable agony. She reached with one hand between her thighs, desperate to end it.

“Your job is to keep yourself steady,” she heard him rasp. Her eyelids sprung open. Both her palms pressed against the solid frame again. He removed his hand from her wrist and slid it down her belly between her thighs. His cock jumped inside her. She whimpered, arousal cutting at her, as he rubbed her lubricated clit.

“It's mine to give you pleasure,” he added hotly near her ear as she crested.

“Oh God,” she moaned.

He thrust again. She turned her head to the side, the tense friction mounting with his hand and his pounding cock forcing a high cry from her throat. She climaxed, her raw emotional state and Dylan's effect on her too powerful to suppress. She quaked as he continued to take her hard, hearing his tense erotic praise as if from a distance.

As she quieted, he slid his hands over her belly and ribs, firmly grasping her breasts in his hands. He slowed some in his possession of her. He molded her flesh to his palms. She sagged slightly against the wood frame, panting.

“I told you to watch in the window, Alice,” he said, his voice low, a rough threat that both aroused and soothed somehow. “I told you I wanted you to remember.”

She opened her eyes sluggishly, turning her head, seeking his image in the glass. His eyes were as black as the night outside the window. Still . . . she made out the glitter of lust in them, the spark of feral possession. His stance—one long leg planted on the floor, the other one bent, his foot on the bench next to her knees, only added to his aura of stark dominance.

“Tense your arms. Hold steady,” he said quietly, molding her breasts to his palms, his fingertips gliding over her rigid nipples, pinching them lightly, before he slid his hands to her hips. He
waited until she'd firmed her sagging muscles, bracing herself for him. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he began to fuck her again. He owned her in those moments, perhaps more than her past did. Her present.

Maybe even her future.

*   *   *

ALICE
felt wrung out by the time Dylan turned out the chandelier in the room and closed the door behind them. His luxurious, mussed bed was a familiar delight, his weight next to her sublime. Sex with Dylan had that effect on her. Afterward, she was usually too sated and exhausted to think.

Or so she'd thought. The past few days had changed her expectations about herself, even about the most basic workings of her mind and body.

A thought kept squirming around in her brain, preventing her from succumbing to sleep.

“Dylan?” she mumbled, her lips brushing against his hard chest.

“Yeah, baby,” he replied drowsily, his fingers moving against her scalp. She loved the sound of his deep rough voice in the darkness.

“What about the gong?”

His fingers stilled. When he didn't reply immediately, she elaborated. “There really was a gong, wasn't there? Once? I've been meaning to ask you. Did Addie Durand play with it or something? You know . . . when she lived here?”

She referred to an incident that had occurred when she'd first come to Castle Durand with the rest of the Durand managers and counselors for a dinner party. Alice had left the rest of the group upon hearing a gong struck, walking alone through the large ornate home. The sweet, mysterious note had drawn her unerringly. Dylan had found her in the dining room. At first, Dylan had
insisted she couldn't have heard a gong sounding, furthering Alice's humiliation at being caught wandering around his house alone. Later he'd made up a story about his cook, Marie, being responsible for the mysterious sound. A few days ago Alice had discovered his lie about the gong and confronted him with it, which had eventually led to Dylan telling her the truth about Addie Durand.

“Yes. There really is a gong, but no one has struck it in a very long time,” he said quietly after a pause. “Alan found it at an antique store once while he was on business in China and gave it to Lynn as a gift. Addie liked some of the unusual items he'd bring home from his trips—”

“Like the knight knocker,” Alice said, her voice just above a whisper.

Dylan lifted his hand and then plunged it back into her hair, rubbing her scalp. “Like the knight knocker,” he agreed, both of them referring to the unique brass doorknocker on the entryway door to Castle Durand. “He brought the knocker from a trip to Scotland, when Addie was three years old. Addie took a liking to it because of some of the fairy tales about knights Lynn and Alan read her. But the gong?” he asked quietly, his fingers against her scalp creating a drugging effect. “You can't guess what it meant to Addie?”

“I have no idea,” she insisted. She fastened on another topic that had been bothering her. “Dylan . . . are you sure that there wasn't any truth to Matt's ghost story at the campfire tonight? Are you
sure
Lynn Durand wasn't there when Addie was taken?”

She tensed when she felt him sit up slightly in bed. “I've told you what happened that day. I was the only one with Addie when she was taken in those woods.
Why?
”

She hesitated. She shouldn't have brought it up, but her curiosity had gotten the best of her. “It's nothing. I just . . . I had a bad dream tonight. It was different than ones I've had before, though. Maybe it was just a nightmare.”

He waited intently. She sighed, knowing he expected to hear the details.

“In it, a woman who looked like Lynn Durand was telling Addie to run and hide. She looked kind of banged up, and there was . . . blood on her.” She twisted her chin over her shoulder when Dylan didn't immediately respond. He cupped her hip.

“It was just a dream,” he said quietly. “That story by the bonfire got to you tonight. Given everything you're going through, that's not too shocking. But I assure you, the story that kid was telling is an urban legend, a ghost story that's been built up and embroidered until only the tiniest part of reality remains. I've asked Kehoe to try to quash the telling of that story, but it always seems to resurface, usually with some sensationalized new twist to it. But what I told you is what actually happened,” he said steadfastly. “What you had was definitely just a nightmare. Addie never saw Lynn like that. Never. Okay?”

“Okay. Night,” she said softly after a pause. His mouth covered hers in a brief, hot kiss. She twisted back around and held her breath. Thankfully Dylan remained silent. Still, she sensed his sharp attention on her. He didn't entirely believe that she wasn't remembering other things.