Guilty as Sin (50 page)

was pale and set, a warrior gathering her courage.

“Michael of Sere,” she said. “We
‟
re asking you formally—be ours, fly with us, bond

with us. Stay—” She swallowed hard. “Stay with us forever.”

“You
‟
re insane,” he croaked. “Lise couldn
‟
t— Not both of us. We
‟
d fall right out of

the sky.”

“We don
‟
t have to be airborne to fly.” Dax smiled against Michael
‟
s mouth, licked

his lower lip. “Here is fine.”

Lise pulled the towel away and molded her palm over Michael
‟
s cock. Instinctively,

he arched into the sweet pressure. Twister take him, he was hard again.

Dax glanced down at the ruddy flesh caged by Lise
‟
s pale fingers. “Oh yeah,” he

growled, and clamped his hand over hers.

Gods, he
‟
d missed them, missed
this
. Michael made a herculean effort not to writhe.

“Go,” he got out from between clenched teeth. “Do it now, the flight thing. You don
‟
t

want a poor substitute. I
‟
ll—
ah, fuck!
—watch.”

Dax
‟
s lips went tight. “Not without you.”

“Stubborn…bastard.”

Lise muttered something that could have been, “You think?”

Dax sat back, bronze wings arching above his shoulders. “That
‟
s me.” A grin broke

over his face, the expression blindingly sweet yet suffused with male power. Michael

reeled. If he
‟
d been standing, he was sure he would have fallen down.

“Listen,” Lise said urgently. “It
‟
s like this.” She was stroking Michael
‟
s hip now, her

fingers traveling up and down the diagonal notch between belly and thigh. “Enough

trust and you can do anything. We
‟
ve trusted you with the secret of the Mating Flight,

put our future in your hands.” A steady look. “Our happiness.”

“Then you
‟
re fools.” The featherpearls in his nipples throbbed. “I
‟
m a thief, a

criminal.”

234

Lise brushed that aside. “You were. You
‟
ve got a pardon, remember? A clean slate.”

She shifted her hand, her thumb circling gently around the smooth head of his cock,

creating little, spreading ripples of pleasure, making it difficult to think.

“Yes, but—”

“A man with your talents? You can do anything you set your mind to. We
‟
ll help.

Trust us, all right?”

“Trust gets you killed. I don
‟
t believe in it.”

Dax said, “We know. But if you think about it, you
‟
ll realize you
‟
ve broken your

own rules—many times over in fact.” A lock of hair flopped into his eyes and Dax

brushed it back for him as if he had every right, as if Michael wanted him to.

He put every ounce of willpower into the sneer. “Balls.”

“You slept most of the way here,” said Dax calmly. “In my arms. If that
‟
s not trust, I

don
‟
t know what is.”

He gave a snort. “So? I was exhausted.”

“You keep saving our lives.” Lise
‟
s smile was more like a grimace. “I
‟
m beginning

to lose count. Michael,
please
.” She ran her hands up his arms, sank her fingers into the

swell of his biceps and gave him a little shake.

“I don
‟
t think I can take much more of this.” Finally—
finally
—her voice cracked.

An icy ball formed in Michael
‟
s guts. Lise might be dangerously perceptive, but she

wasn
‟
t certain they
‟
d succeed, which made her the weak link. If he could break Dax…

It would be over.

235

The Mountains of Morn separate the Sitariat-Gillen Tableland from the Empty Lands.

Running roughly east to west, they stretch for fifty miles. The highest peaks remain snow-clad

and cloud-wreathed, even in summer.

Excerpt from the
Great Encyclopedia
, compiled by Miriliel the Burnished.

* * * * *

Dax reached out and wrapped his fingers around Michael
‟
s wrist. His skin was

very warm. “I
‟
m asking you again—what do you want?”

Michael
‟
s heart slammed up against his rib cage, a dull, heavy beat. “Anything?”

“Anything.” Dax shrugged, a great rustle of bronze feathers and smooth, rippling

muscle. “Trust has to work both ways or it doesn
‟
t work at all.”

Michael ripped himself free and got to his feet. “I need to think. Give me a minute.”

Lise slanted him a thoughtful look. “I
‟
m not sure that
‟
s a good idea,” she said dryly.

“Trust, chick,” Dax said. “Remember?”

“Mmm
.
” She didn
‟
t sound convinced, but when Michael turned to enter the grove,

she didn
‟
t call him back.

The shade of the candlewoods was welcome, a cool draft against his sweaty cheeks.

He knew what he wanted, with every wicked fiber of his being. Absently, he reached

down to cradle the nagging weight of his erection. He knew his Aetherii would give

him their love, their lives. The bitch of it was—when he swallowed his throat felt as if it

were lined with sand—he had to wrench that beautiful gift away from them, make the

act a theft so brutal that they
‟
d never forgive him, never, ever.

Twister help him.

The high, urgent edge of his arousal faded. Deliberately, Michael closed his eyes,

taking himself back to the day he
‟
d fled from the Aetherii, to the hours he
‟
d spent

trapped in the stinking depths of the sewers, fuming. All because of a stupid farm boy

and a woman too damn clever by half. Well, fuck them! And by all the gods, that was

exactly what he was going to do, in every possible sense.

He stepped behind a tree, grabbed his cock and pumped. With grim relish, he

revisited the erotic vision he
‟
d had that day—gods, so far away now it might have been

another life!—the smoothness of clear skin, the exotic fan of feathers, all spread and

helpless beneath him, ready to be impaled, possessed. Sullied so thoroughly, no amount

of washing would rid them of the stain.

What did he want? Stupid question.

236

Yes, yes! He spat on his palm, yanked harder. Settle the score, get even—
win
. His

lips drawing back from his teeth, Michael gave himself to the dark, to the pulsing, black

silence in his soul, a hungry maw of want, want,
want
. His breath clogged in his lungs,

as if his soul floundered in a poison lake, sweet, thick fumes rising from the water to fill

his head with cruel, intoxicating possibilities.

They
‟
d spoiled it, ruined everything, the ungrateful— The first and last time he
‟
d

aspired to honor and they
‟
d made a fool of him. When he thought of the pathetic

feathers tattooed on his back, the pity in their eyes, a wave of heat rose, beads of sweat

popping out all along his hairline. Panting, he worked his resentment as ruthlessly as he

worked his cock. All those weeks of misery—and for what? Gods, he
‟
d cried for them,

he who couldn
‟
t remember shedding a tear, not even as a child, not even when the

rats— He hauled his thoughts back on track.

Meaningless, they
‟
d made his sacrifice meaningless.

And now they demanded his trust. Offered their own.

The poison was cloying on his tongue. He worked his mouth to savor it, but as he

did so, a taint bloomed like rotting flowers, the taste of it oily-sweet and nauseating.

When his guts lurched, he pressed a clenched fist against his belly, breathing hard until

it passed.

His eyes opened, went narrow. By all the fucking gods, he
‟
d drink the poison to the

dregs, even if it killed him. If his Aetherii wanted a guttersnipe so badly, they could

damn well have him, filth, lust, darkness and all, the whole sordid package. Once he
‟
d

abused that shining trust, taken and defiled it, they
‟
d let him go. They wouldn
‟
t be able

to bear the sight of him.

He stalked back over the grass, feeling the blood sing in his cock at the open

warmth of Dax
‟
s admiring gaze, darkly amused at Lise
‟
s more wary expression. She

was no fool, Liseriel the Gray.

“Anything, I believe you said?” Gripping her by the back of the neck, he bent his

head and ravaged her sweet lips. When she opened to let him, he raked his nails

through the feathers at the base of her tail and she cried out into his mouth, wings

flaring.

He drew back, his stomach giving a nasty flip at the sight of the blood on her lip.

But the poison lake in his soul was still there, and he sank into it, drowning his heart in

the tarry filth, using it to form a carapace, something thick and crusted, impervious as

armor.

“As for you…” His chin lifted in challenge, he stared at Dax. “I
‟
m going to shove

my cock so far up your sweet, virgin ass you
‟
ll feel it in your throat when you scream.”

He gave his erection a hard squeeze, blood roaring in triumph when Dax
‟
s gaze

dropped, his pupils dilating.

“Michael, this isn
‟
t—” Lise broke off, swiping at the blood on the abused lip.

“What? Oh, don
‟
t worry, you
‟
re going to help me. Fun for all, sweetheart.”

237

“This is what you want?” Dax said, apparently unmoved, though a pulse ticked

madly in the pit of his throat and his eyes had gone the same vivid green as the new

growth on the candlewoods. “Truly?”

“Yes,
truly
,” Michael mocked.

Digging his fingers into the big man
‟
s waistband, he tugged him closer. When he

reached out to grip, Dax
‟
s cock was as long and thick as he recalled, but meaty-soft

against his palm. “Aw, birdy,” he said. “Scared?” He patted Dax
‟
s cheek, hard.

Dax frowned. “No—well, not for me.” Something flashed in the depths of those

green eyes, and for a split second, Michael tensed, remembering a killing machine

swooping out of the sky, the hapless Hssrda.

Dax turned to Lise. “I brought oil. It
‟
s in the outer pocket of the leather pack, the

smaller one.”

He forestalled the protest gathering on her face. “I
‟
ll be fine, chick.” His tail darted

out to caress hers.

Hands on hips, Lise said, “Dax, this is a very bad idea. I—”

“He needs this.” Dax cupped Michael
‟
s face in his hands and kissed him, taking the

time to be achingly thorough. He tasted like life and warmth and the kind of comfort

Michael had never known. How could he be so confident? So steady when Michael was

shaking, deep in his bones?

“Don
‟
t patronize me, birdy.” Grimly, he clamped down on the tremors.
Remember

who you are, what you are. Drink the poison and do what you have to do. Think of how good

he’ll feel once you force your way inside, tight and hot and—

Dax smiled faintly. “How do you want me?”

“Naked. On your knees.” Michael pointed to the rugs, the cheerful patches on the

quilt incongruously commonplace in the face of the sacrilege he was about to inflict.

“Out here under the sky.”

Dax stepped out of his trews and walked over to the spot, casually magnificent, his

wings furled in a shining feathered cloak that extended from above his shoulders to his

strong calves.

Lise joined them, a corked vial in her hand.

“You too,” croaked Michael.

Instead, she set her hands on her hips, her warrior
‟
s gaze as unyielding as the cliff

face. “Last chance, thief. I may love you, but there are things I will never forgive.”

“I know.”
I’m counting on it.

She sent him a hard stare then slowly, her hands went to her laces. As the clothing

fell away, he savored the long, slim lines of her, the flowing curve of waist and hip and

breast, the glory of her plumage, pewter in the sun, highlighted with silver at the tips.

Her nipples were already tightly peaked, the sweet
summerberry
pink he hadn
‟
t been

able to forget.

238

Kneeling together, they linked hands then tails and turned to look at him. Two

miracles.

The lump in his throat scraped like glass when he swallowed.

It was beyond him to resist. Planting his feet firmly, he stood over them. “Suck me,”

he growled, barely able to articulate the words.

When they hesitated, exchanging a glance, he barked out a laugh. “Show him,

Lise.”

Dax chuckled, breath warm and moist on the head of Michael
‟
s cock. “I think I can

work it out.” A hot, strong tongue took a confident swipe, forcing a hiss from between

his clenched teeth.

“Mmm.” Dax leaned in, set a hand on Michael
‟
s hip to hold him steady and inhaled

half his length in one gulp.

Michael
‟
s knees buckled.

Lise
‟
s fingers trailed through the fine hair on his chest and belly then tracked

around to his back. The teasing touch danced from one vertebra to the next and then

over the hollows where the taut rise of his ass began. When he twitched, she leaned into

his side, her mouth curving against his skin. Sharp teeth nipped one cheek, followed

immediately by the soothing sweep of her tongue. He thought he heard her whisper,

“Gods,” and then, even lower, “Amazing.”

Ah, fuck, it was good! Michael flung his head back, fists clenched, trying not to

thrust. Dax
‟
s mouth was hot and strong and flatteringly eager, but every so often he
‟
d

pause for a choking breath or a tooth would scrape over thin, sensitive skin.

Knowing he was the first only made it better. Blindly, he reached out, finding thick,

soft hair and sinking his fingers deep.

A catlike tongue licked around the lower curve of his ass, Lise
‟
s deft fingers cradled

his balls, rolling them gently. Dax chose that moment to develop an interest in the slit

on Michael
‟
s cock head, licking into it, purring at the taste. All the time, his big hand

slid up and down, dragging Michael perilously close to the brink with every stroke.

Lise
‟
s tail snaked around his chest, flicking across his nipples. Gods, the delicate,