Kinked (34 page)

Her head bent down as she slipped one hand to the back of his neck. She said softly, “And even though you are every bit the dangerous bastard I thought you were, you are really quite trustworthy.”

The words hit him between the eyes. They were all the more powerful because he knew how little she cared for returning courtesies, mouthing platitudes or pretty nothings. He said, barely audibly, “I’m glad you think so.”

Her long fingers worked at the back of his neck, massaging him. She straightened her back as if steeling herself. “About the mating thing.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh, is that still in the room?”

Laughter flashed in her eyes. Then she sobered. As blunt and direct as always, she said, “I haven’t put words to what was going on inside me, but I could be mating with you too. I’ve never experienced this kind of—total engagement before. You don’t need things I’m not interested in giving. You fight me, and you don’t back down. You can fight
with
me on the battlefield as an equal partner. You’re strong enough to hold your own, and you’re willing and able to negotiate.”

When she paused as if searching for more words, he held her gaze as one corner of his mouth lifted. “And I sex your ass up.”

She burst out laughing. “And that too. The thing is, we have a choice right now. We haven’t gone too far, and we can back the hell away from all of this if you want. But before you make any decisions, I want to tell you something. A very long time ago, I made a promise to any mate who might or might not come into my life one day.”

Whatever he had been expecting when he initiated this conversation, this wasn’t it. He whispered, “What did you promise?”

She stroked his jaw lightly with one hand. “I will never betray my mate and never endanger his life with my carelessness or impetuosity. I will fight for and with him, and always have his back whenever he might need me. I will
not leave him, and I will not lie to him, and if he will only be patient and forgiving, I will learn how to forgive too, because he will be the most important thing, ever, in the world to me. I will give everything I have to him, along with everything I can be, if he will only do the same for me.”

She couched everything she said so carefully, but those words she spoke were his words. Those promises were to him.

“Why are you telling me this now?” he asked, very low.

“Because as you said, you’re going into war too, and you need to know who your fighting partner is,” she said without preamble. “You need to know that you can trust me. I heard what you said. I heard everything you said, and while I’m still struggling with all of it, I want you to know that somehow it’s going to be okay.” Her eyes filled and she struggled for a moment. Then she said, “I might not know the details of how I’m going to survive, but I know that I will, because I could never endanger someone who was even a possible mate by throwing my own life away.”

That wild, dangerous part of him. He knew now where it was running, and to whom. The panther sank down and put his head in the harpy’s lap. He was an alpha male with too much edge, and he set it all at her feet.

He had never imagined he would find someone strong enough to take everything he was, and willing enough to embrace all of it. He could never have known that the one place where he would find peace was in the heart of the wildest, edgiest creature of all.

As the panther found his peace, the harpy stroked his hair and discovered tenderness. Then everything that lay twisted between them came clear as they reached the heart of the labyrinth they had been traveling together.

NINETEEN

A
ryal sat frozen. She didn’t know what to do when Quentin put his head in her lap. It was such an extraordinary experience, so surprising and fine. The weight of his upper torso against her legs felt exactly right. The sight of him on his knees was not at all what she had imagined in the heat of her anger and desire, and yet it was perfect.

They were perfect.

She ran her hands along his broad, bare shoulders and along as much of his wide, tanned back as she could reach. Underneath her touch, his powerful muscles shifted below his skin, a mystery cloaked in silk. His body was so well made, she basked in the pleasure of stroking him. She scratched her fingers gently against the grain of his short beard and watched as a shudder rippled through him.

“Talking to you doesn’t suck,” she said in surprise.

He lifted his head to look up at her, a grin creasing his face. “No it doesn’t. How about that.” Capturing her wrist, he stood and pulled her to her feet as well. “Come on. There’s a tub the size of a small swimming pool in the other room, and I’ve become obsessed with the thought of getting clean.”

She looked down at herself. She had washed her face
and hands with careful handfuls of water from the wineskin, but it had done little more than shift the grime around, and her jeans, along with what remained of her once white T-shirt, were bloodstained and filthy.

With great relief and a lack of ceremony, she stripped. “This outfit needs to be burned.”

He went tense. As his stillness caught her attention, she glanced at him. He was staring at her nude body, traveling from her high, small breasts down the length of her narrow torso to her slim hips and long, lean legs. The private tuft of silken hair between her legs was very black against her pale skin. The reddened scars from the recent wolf attack still marked her, but they were rapidly fading.

While her arms and shoulders were in proportion with the rest of her body, they were cut with muscle. She had a natural aptitude for strength in her upper body, which she enhanced with regular workouts using a variety of weapons, constantly building aptitude and stamina. One of the most dangerous aspects of swordfights, or any fight, for that matter, was that they were so grueling.

While she didn’t believe that she was beautiful, she didn’t have a self-conscious bone in her body, and she liked herself. She had never once wished any of her physical attributes away, and had always believed that all of her flaws were ones that remained unseen. That was why it was a shock for her to encounter an awkward moment, like running into an invisible wall.

Yes, the attraction that coursed between them had been off the charts, but in that moment she couldn’t read his expression.

And she wanted him to like her.

His voice turned guttural as he said, “I’ve never seen you until now.”

She looked down at herself with a frown and brushed at one of her breasts with the fingers of one hand. She said wryly, “If you’re a boob guy, I guess you’re out of luck.”

Sexual tension smoldered in the hot afternoon air. She could feel it pouring off him. “You’re a knockout,” he said. “Your breasts are perfect-sized bites, and your legs could
grace a runway. I feel like you’ve punched me all over again.”

He moved toward her, his muscled body tight yet fluid. He was broad across the chest and darker than she, his tanned body a warm brown. He had unbuttoned his jeans and the opening revealed the long, rippled line of his abdomen. The dark blond of his hair was like gold treasure glinting in shadows, and the blue in his eyes looked so much like home, unwanted and unexpected moisture dampened her eyes.

To counteract it, she turned toward mischief and pinched her own nipple, rolling it teasingly between her fingers.

He reached her and knocked her hand away. “Stop that. That’s my nipple.”

A grin broke across her face. “That’s one of the more ridiculous things you’ve ever said.” She plucked at both of her nipples and winked at him.

He grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her back. “What can I say,” he said. “I’m ridiculously possessive.”

“And controlling,” she said. “And dominant.” And playful and sexy, and so damn bad her whole body wanted him. She was empty and aching, and had moistened so that she could feel her own dampness on her inner thighs. She whispered, “I can’t believe I haven’t taken you inside of me yet.”

“Oh, you had me inside of you,” he growled. “You had me in your mouth, and I will never forget it. That moment is going to give me wet dreams for decades.”

With her wrists held behind her back, her torso arched against him. It was the first time they had come together with so much skin against skin, and the sensation was intoxicating. His body was hot and slightly damp with sweat, and his Power sizzled as it wrapped around her.

And he was so dirty.

“I loved you all spread out on that table like a feast,” she said against his lips. “Expect more of that when I get my night. Expect that I’ll take a great deal of time over you, and you won’t necessarily climax when you want. You’ll climax when I want.”

He hissed, “Promise?”

“Promise.” Her mouth shaped the word slowly, to prolong the glide of her lips along his.

“You’re not wet enough,” he whispered.

It took a moment for what he said to sink into her hunger-hazed brain. “I’m pretty wet,” she managed to articulate.

He lifted his head, and there it was again, the addictive combination of passion and laughter flaring in his face. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to know that, sunshine,” he purred. He let go of one of her wrists to trail his fingers down the long, curved line of her spine. “But I was actually referring to the pool-sized tub in the other room. I’ll scrub your back if you scrub mine.”

The thought of sliding against his hard, naked body in the water made her hunger spike, thrumming through her body with agonizing strength. “You offer the best bargains.”

He let her go with evident reluctance, and she walked ahead of him into the luxurious bathroom. Soaps, along with jars of salts and lotions, lined the edges of the tub, and stacks of drying cloths filled a decoratively carved oak cabinet against one wall. An ornate screen hid a pull-string lavatory in one corner, and a full-length polished silver mirror stood in a metal stand in one corner. A marble counter with a washbasin and another, smaller silver mirror was set against another wall, along with a long bench with small bottles of oils and fragrances at one end, no doubt used for massages. The Elven lord had liked his luxuries.

She knelt to examine the levers for the massive tub and discovered that it could be filled with either salt or fresh water. She chose fresh and opened the valve wide so that water gushed in. There was some kind of heating system, probably a sun-heated tank, and the water was hot enough for a comfortable soak.

Movement glided at the edge of her vision. As she turned to look, a nude Quentin strode into the room. He was half-erect, that beautiful penis of his in a thick full arc above his tight, drawn-up sac.

His sleek, catlike grace along with those broad shoulders, muscled chest and long bones were a killer mixture.
She remembered all too well what he looked like nude, yet the impact struck her all over again. He gave her a keen, searching glance as she knelt at the side of the tub. Then he walked down the steps. The water had gushed in so fast it was already at his waist. As he came close, his hand snaked out. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into the water.

She started laughing even as she fell, rolling so that she hit the water shoulder first. She caught a glimpse of his lean face, creased in a smile, and then the water closed over her head. After the heat and getting so dirty, submerging felt so incredibly good, she didn’t rise up right away. Instead she stretched her whole body and turned languorously, wallowing in the sense of weightlessness.

Hard hands grasped her shoulders and lifted her. Water rushed away from her face and as she blinked to clear her eyes, she discovered Quentin looking down at her, his face tight and flushed with intent. His expression was so raw, so naked, she stared, and her heart began a slow, heavy pounding. He exhilarated and terrified her.

For a moment she considered pulling away and leaving. As she’d said, they had a choice now about what happened to them, about whether or not they moved forward to see what joining together as possible mates might bring to them.

But she had never backed away from anything just because it frightened her, and the totality of who he was drew her like a siren’s song. He had an extraordinary capacity for both violence and tenderness, and a sensuality so keen it sliced deep into her center.