Guilty as Sin (32 page)

ripe magenta, earthy terracotta. Lise blinked, trying to make sense of it all.

Dax walked past her in silence, his boots sinking into the patterned rugs that lay

two and three deep on the floor.

150

The air smelled sweet and stale with an underlying whiff of something far less

pleasant from outside, like mold or rot. A couple of tattered garments swung from

hangers on a pole in one corner, but there were no other personal possessions. Michael

had swept it clean of anything he could carry and left the rest.

Abruptly, Lise
‟
s skin flooded with heat. Gods, this was so personal. A glimpse of a

man
‟
s soul, intimate enough to make her a voyeur, looking on while he stripped to the

skin, thinking he was alone. She licked her lips, Michael
‟
s taste on her tongue, salty and

hot and smooth. Her eye fell on the mattress, a black silk island on the floor, rectangular

in the Grounded style. Half a dozen pillows and cushions were strewn across it. There

was no harmony among them in shape, style or hue, yet it worked. In fact, it reminded

her of…of… She swallowed hard.

Dax set the lamp down on top of a large chest made of much-scuffed leather. He

bent to pick up a small square cushion from a haphazard pile of pillows and bolsters. It

was thickly embroidered with plants and vines and flowers.

“Gods,” he said, his voice hushed, “it
‟
s a nest.” He stroked a curling tendril with a

wondering fingertip. “He might as well be Aetherii.”

“Yes.” The sense of the thief
‟
s presence was so tangible, she could barely speak.

“We won
‟
t find anything worthwhile here.”

“I disagree.” Dax
‟
s tail caressed hers. He tossed the pillow aside. “I
‟
ve found

everything I need.” He drew her close, big hands gentle on her shoulders, and tucked

her under one wing. “Everything I will ever need.”

“Dax—”

He nuzzled her throat, licked behind her ear. Gods, it felt good. Lise shivered,

gooseflesh skittering over her spine, her ribs. Her nipples tightened in a tingling rush.

“I missed you.” He nibbled little kisses all along her jaw, slow and sweet. “Please

don
‟
t push me away again.”

Lise forced a smile. “You
‟
re very beguiling, you know that?”

She
‟
d expected him to chuckle, but instead he put her away from him so he could

gaze deep into her eyes.

“I
‟
m not trying to beguile you. I mean it, every word.” His smile went crooked. “If

you look you
‟
ll see.”

Lise searched his face, the broad high cheekbones, the square stubborn jaw. When

had it become so dear to her? So beautiful?

He stood patiently, waiting, watching her, all playfulness gone. He
‟
d always

seemed so solid, so certain of his love for her, his destiny, but now his eyes were full of

pain and a desperate hope. As she studied each feature, it came to her slowly that he
‟
d

stripped away the veneers, exposed his soul and placed it squarely in her hands,

because that was Dax
‟
s way—no half measures. When he gave, he could do nothing less

than offer all of himself.

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“No,” she said at last. “It
‟
s not in you to deceive, is it? You
‟
re true, all the way

through.” The courage of it humbled her, stung her eyes with unaccustomed tears.

“Dax, my dear—”

Her voice broke and all she could do was sink her fingers into his biceps and hang

on. Oh gods, he was shaking, hard tremors as if the fever still had him in a fiery grip.

And then she was shaking too, because the thought that he should suffer was more than

she could bear.

“Ah, no, no.” She laid her hand against his cheek. “You mustn
‟
t look like that.

Godsdammit, I
‟
m so bad at this.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “At what?”

“Veil-it, I don
‟
t know! Being…with someone. I never get it right.” She bit her lip.

“I
‟
ll hurt you so bad and I love you too much…to…do…” The sentence trailed away to

lose itself in a shocked whisper. “Oh gods.”

Dax sucked in a breath. Every vestige of color drained from his golden skin then

surged back to paint his cheekbones with a hectic flush.

“Lise, are you sure?” he said, quick and low.

“No.” A wild laugh bubbled out of her. “But I
‟
ll try.” Reeling, she swayed.

“Just…just hold me up for a minute, will you?”

Instead, he took them both down to the mattress, Lise held securely in the curve of

his arm, his tail wrapped around her waist. “Oh love.” As he buried his face in her hair,

his wings spread high and wide above them. “I
‟
ve waited so long and I want you so

much.”

“Hey.” Lise rubbed his shoulders, blinking hard. Every cell in her body urged her

toward him, into the heat and shelter of that massive form. Dax
‟
s wings curved around

in a perfect arc, enclosing her in a mantle of feathers all the way to her ankles. Furling

her own wings, she pressed closer, murmuring nonsense.

There was desire, of course there was, overwhelming, all encompassing. She could

hardly think straight. Between her legs the pulse throbbed, pumping out liquid heat,

the sweet slick musk of a woman
‟
s passion, both familiar and thrilling. But—a slow

wash of wonder and joy suffused her—this was…different. She hadn
‟
t realized before.

Perhaps she hadn
‟
t wanted to acknowledge her need. Being in Dax
‟
s arms felt like some

extravagant unearned luxury, an abandonment of self she
‟
d never had the courage to

risk before. Why should she? Not dutiful practical Liseriel the Gray.

She slipped a hand between shirt buttons, downy feathers caressing her palm, such

a contrast to the hard heat of his skin, his hearts thundering beneath her touch like a

pair of runaway
vranee
.

Oh
yes
.

This time, with this man, she wasn
‟
t alone. They risked their hearts
together
, she and

Dax, needed
together
. Dax was taking shelter in her, just as she did in him, as if the other

were a refuge from the storm.

152

Smiling, she rubbed her cheek against his, and Dax turned his head to kiss her, soft

and sweet and wet, so tender her hearts ached with the beauty of it.

“Come here, chick.” His whisper was so low and deep she felt it vibrate in her very

bones. “Kneel up.”

He steadied her until they were kneeling together in the center of the mattress,

gazes locked. Then he ripped his shirt off and tossed it aside. Reaching behind her, he

unfastened the plackets beneath her wings and untied the laces of her shirt. She thought

he held his breath as he eased the linen off her shoulders, his brow creased with

concentration.

“Oh
Lise
.”

He lifted both hands to drift the backs of his fingers over the curves of her breasts.

She arched into his touch, conscious only of relief when the shirt fell away and she was

free.

Dax skated big, warm palms over her shoulders and down her arms to her wrists.

“Spread your wings,” he said huskily.

When she did so, he took both her hands in his and brought them together in the

center of his chest. Slowly, never taking his gaze from hers, he extended a glory of

bronze plumage until their wingtips pressed together. His tail tightened around her

waist.

“Lise,” he said, very low. “You will never regret this, I swear by the Veil.”

“I just hope
you
don
‟
t.”

“Gods no!” She got a blazing grin, so full of untrammeled joy he looked

transfigured. “Let me—” The sentence ended in a hard swallow and he lowered her to

her back on the mattress. He grabbed the heel of her boot. “Can I—?”

“Yes.” Lise lifted a leg so he could pull it off. “Gods yes!”

Kneeling over her, his face flushed, Dax divested her of the other boot and her

trews. As he stared, Lise undulated, luxuriating in the feel of Michael
‟
s silken sheets

against skin and feather. “Now you,” she panted.

Dax grunted his assent. Boots and trews hit the floor. Lise
‟
s gaze dropped. So did

her jaw.

She
‟
d expected he
‟
d be big, she
‟
d been almost certain his naked body would be

beautiful, but in all honesty, she
‟
d had no idea.

He was massive clothed, but nudity gave him grace and proportion, a primitive

paean of muscle and tendon and bone, the masculine best of her race. Broad, gilded

nipples the same shade of bronze as his plumage shone amid a dusting of fine downy

feathers. The relative narrowness of his waist and hips drew the eye down over a

cobbled belly to—

Rip the Veil and fry the world.

His magnificent cock reared, the broad head flushed a mouthwatering rose-gold.

Something behind her clit twisted hard and hot, a molten nerve spasm that would have

153

felled her if she
‟
d been standing. Gods help her, she wanted him. “Come here,” she

croaked, reaching out to grip, urging him down.

Her eyes fluttered closed. Hot and throbbing against her palm, iron hard and velvet

soft, so thick she had difficulty closing her fingers. And she was empty inside, oh so

empty, her sex soft and weeping, beyond ready to be stretched and filled and

plundered. Her legs fell open to cradle his hips and she raised herself to meet him, the

dense damp velvet of his cock head furrowing between slick folds.

“Slowly,” she whispered, tilting her pelvis just right. “You
‟
re a lot—oh gods!—to

take.”

Making the most extraordinary noise, a sort of guttural moan, Dax inched forward.

For a moment, the pressure was overwhelming, and then he was in, no more than the

head. Her body closed around it, greedy and sucking. Lise
‟
s eyes flew open, in time to

see him throw his head back, cords standing proud on his neck.

“Fuck. Oh gods.” Breathing hard, he blinked down at her, drops of sweat beading

his forehead. “Shit, am I hurting you?”

“No.” Lise flung her tail around his hips and tugged him down. Grabbing two

fistfuls of hair, she nipped his chin. “Fuck me, godsdammit.”

With a groan, he slid forward. Her sheath convulsed around his girth, every nerve

swinging from delight to panic and back again. So full, so full.

“Almost,” Dax rasped against her cheek, his breath hot and gusty.

Almost?
What the—?

Dax thrust, another full inch. Lise would have shrieked, but all the breath punched

out of her lungs.

For an instant, she quivered, teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure.

She
‟
d never thought of herself as small. Yes, she was slim, but she
‟
d always been broad-