Lords Of The Dark Fall - Fabian (13 page)

A smile that offered what he had no right to take.

Before he had time to follow up that thought, she skipped across the kitchen to scrutinise the neat row of jars and metal boxes lining what she laughingly called her pantry.

“So, what’s your pleasure tonight, most exalted one? If the dogs get lucky, I can offer rabbit and rice. If not, it will just have to be rice. I bet you’ll be glad to get home so you can eat some decent food. Do me a favour and reach the canister down for me?”

She’d meant to move out of his way but he was too fast, striding across the kitchen, trapping her in place while he reached up behind her and took down the canister. He placed the metal can on the counter-top and then both of his hands, one on either side of her, stopping her escape.

She stilled, quivering a little like some animal preparing for flight. Or was there anticipation in the glance she flicked him, so briefly he nearly missed it? This was no offer of a hug, and she knew it.

“Mortality is a call to arms like no other,” he whispered. “Do you understand what I’m saying? What we need to do?”

“You’re talking about seizing the moment? That’s something both of us will regret.” She turned in his arms, facing him with a look of such painful honesty something twisted inside of him. “It’s no longer just sex, Fabian. Not for me, anyway. This time it won’t be so easy to walk away from.”

“We may regret this, but I believe that if we do not, then we will regret it more.”

“I bet you say that to all the women.”

He bent his head, pushed back her hair and pressed a light kiss to the shell of her ear. “It is a line I have used more than once, the difference is that this time, I mean it.”

He understood the struggle written plainly on her face. No denying that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The air between them was almost too thick to breathe. When he touched his lips to her throat, he felt the frantic beat of her pulse, the slight tilt of her head to give him better access, to encourage him to continue.

Even though her body practically screamed out its needs to him, he understood why it would be more prudent to walk away from this heat they made between them.

When had prudence any place in affairs of the heart?

“If we don’t do this we will spend the rest of our lives wondering. Say yes, Tig, and I will give you a night you will never forget.”

“Promise?”

“You have my word on it.”

“What about the dogs?”

“They will eat the rabbits. Let them. I’m hungry only for this.”

“You have the cheesiest lines.”

“You doubt my sincerity?”

She shook her head. The faint smile, the light fingers creeping across the soft fabric of his shirt, signalled her capitulation. He’d seduced enough women to know the signs. If he swept her up now, she would not resist. And if he had any sense, he would.

Since being in this world, meeting Tig, his good sense seemed to have deserted him.

“Would that I could offer you more of myself,” he said with genuine regret. “This is all I have, but it is a gift I give freely. You would do me great honour by accepting.”

She made him wait a few more heartbeats before twisting her fingers in his collar to pull him down to her.

No need of words. Her warm mouth, the way she kissed him said she knew this was the start of the long goodbye, and that she cared. Hard to admit he did, too. Somehow, in the past few weeks, she’d crept into his heart and left memories that would be hard to forget.

He may have instigated this, but following her upstairs, knowing that soon he must walk away took more courage than leading an army into war.

“This is what it is to be human,” she said when he hesitated at the door to her bedroom. “We know it will break our hearts, but we do it anyway, foolish mortals that we are.”

He stepped over the threshold, unable to walk away now she was here and willing. They would worry about broken hearts in the morning. For now, there was only this.

She shouldn’t have said it. No illusions that these developing feelings were one sided. Men like Fabian didn’t do broken hearts and to give him his due, he’d made her no false promises. He'd let her know exactly what he needed to do and where she stood in his grand plans.

Take what he offered and be grateful a man like him would even look at someone like her. And when she was inevitably pushed into sharing Hal’s bed, she’d at least have this memory to distract her.

“Let me,” she said and stepped forward to twist open his shirt buttons, one by one. Smoothing the material apart, she revealed his broad chest, took in the dips and curves, the bunched muscles flexing under her questing fingers. She wanted to remember every inch of him so when she looked back and wondered if this was a dream, she’d be able to recall the feel of iron and steel encased in warm flesh. The hard ridges of his abs, the dark hair circling his nipples.

Perhaps she only imagined the sadness in the slow smile that told her he was enjoying her attentions as much as she was her scrutiny of his hard, warrior body. She measured her hand to his. Hands that were twice the size of hers, calloused from wielding the broad-sword. Killers hands, no doubt, yet capable of infinite tenderness.

He opened the shirt-cuffs himself. Threw the shirt down. Her breath caught.

She’d seen him naked more than once, but it was still a revelation. Or was her sudden inability to breathe because of what they were about to do?

Mirroring her actions, he stripped her of her dress, pulled the camisole over her head to leave her clad only in her underpants, his actions decisive and sure. If she asked him to, would he stop? She trusted him to do that but had no will to call a halt to this, despite the small voice in the back of her mind warning her of the pain that would accompany these few hours of pleasure.

“I find you beautiful,” he said before bending to touch his mouth to a nipple. The long, slow sweep of his tongue robbed her of any further thoughts of stopping him.

“You do?” she gasped and threaded her fingers in his hair to hold him in place. “I’m not, but thank you for saying it.”

He lifted his head, brows creased into a frown. “It saddens me that you do not see your own beauty. But know that I do. Believe that I do.”

She wanted nothing more than to do that. He had a clever tongue and sounded sincere. Perhaps it was true.

A burning kiss stopped that thought. She gave in to the assault of his mouth on hers, to the thrust of his tongue only now realising how much she needed this time out from the world and all its problems. He’d asked for this so she gave herself over to him and let him take her. Let him strip her naked and spread her out on the bed for his pleasure.

Through half-closed eyes, she watched him shed the rest of his clothing, boots and socks, pants and underclothes. Never had she met a man so comfortable in his skin. He allowed her scrutiny, not through vanity, but because, unlike her, he knew what she was seeing.

“Use the protection,” she said, pointing to the dresser drawer. Much as she wanted to feel him skin to skin, it would never be an option.

Fishing the small packet from the drawer, he regarded it with a disdain that made her laugh out loud.

“Another downside of being human, but you must understand why. Come here and I’ll put it on you.”

Instead of handing it to her, he tossed it onto the nightstand. With one knee on the bed, he leaned over to place a light kiss on her quivering stomach, then another a little lower down, then another.

“Later,” he breathed against her mound. “We have the whole night ahead of us and I wish to pace myself. To take you slowly. Very, very slowly.”

Oh, by the malformed saints, his words alone could reduce her to mush in his arms. When had she become such a pushover?

He might wish to go slow, but she was already feeling the delicious tightening, the ripples of sensation radiating from the place now receiving the insistent attention of his clever tongue. Here was a man who definitely knew where a clitoris was.

He chuckled when she moaned lightly and rode the first wave.

“I intend to make you come again and again and again, until you plead for mercy. Would you like me to do that?”

Her
yes
was a little too fervent, desperate even, but who in their right mind would refuse an offer like that?

“If you’re going to break my heart, then do it right. I want to remember this night.”

“Oh, you will.” In one swift move he was astride her, pinning her arms above her head, the weight of him trapping her in place. Slowly, he slid his hands along the length of her arms, releasing them, continuing the slow slide down her body, while she took in a shuddering breath and gave herself over to him.

The sheer bulk of him blocked out the last pale rays of the sun as it sunk below the horizon. Tonight he could be the haven she so craved. With him wrapped around her, covering her, she had nothing to fear. Constantly being strong, pretending she didn’t care, was a drain on body and soul. Even before Fabian arrived, she’d been hovering at her limit. Hanging on by sheer bloody-minded force of will.

She moaned again when he parted her knees and dipped his dark head between them, unable to help her response to the sinuous lap of his tongue, the rasp of his stubbled cheek against the tender skin of her thigh. The pad of his thumb rubbing and circling and seeking out her most secret places.

Stop him now, her rational mind screamed. You’ll spend the rest of your life searching for more of this, comparing other men to him. And always coming up short.

The second wave brought ecstasy and tears which made her look way too needy. Blinking them away, she focussed on the feel of him, the smell of his sweat-slicked skin. The physical, because that was easier than dealing with the emotional turmoil he’d unleashed. What she wanted most were the things he couldn’t give. Security, companionship, a man who made her smile fondly and her heart miss a beat when he looked at her a certain way.

He raised his head. “You enjoy my attention and yet you cry?”

“Enjoying it too much,” she said, trying to inject a little flippancy in her tone.

“You were thinking about a time when we would no longer be able to do this?”

“I know you have to leave, Fabian.” She touched two fingers to his lips. “I’m cool with it, really I am.”

“I think not.”

“Well the hell, why did you start this, then?” Anger sat too close to the intense longing she’d kept locked inside. Twisting herself, she wriggled out from under him and scooted up the bed, her back flat against the wooden headboard, knees drawn up defensively.

“Don’t run from me, Tig.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t? Break my heart?” She slapped her forehead. “What was I thinking? I should have left you in the desert for the Frey to pick clean. Would have been a heck of a lot simpler.”

The few inches between them might have been a yawning chasm wider than the largest ocean. Did she blame the tears, the sheer hopelessness of wanting a man who was so unattainable? Or had she just come to her senses, at last? Here she was, attempting to play happy families with his man when, outside, her world was about to implode into the usual frenzy of blood and violence that followed a leadership coup.

This man was determined to add to it.

And that terrified her.

He still hadn’t moved after her sudden withdrawal. Chest heaving, eyes lowered, he stared at the space between them as if knowing that whatever decision he made would hurt her beyond bearing.

She slumped back, the fury draining from her as suddenly as it had arrived. The dam couldn’t break, not now. Her grief and fear, the feeling she had for this man, were all safely contained. One breach and the whole lot would break out and overwhelm her.

Not about to happen.

Lifting her eyes to his, she found him staring at her, intently. Respect? Admiration? Pity? She couldn’t fathom his expression Shoulders shaking, everything on alert, yet he remained in place waiting for her decision.

An immortal from another realm? Or just a silver-tongued drifter passing through?

It no longer mattered.

“Better now?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m not angry at you, Fabian. Just life in general.”

He touched her, then. A light grazing of his thumb on her cheek. Even in the throes of passion he gave little away.

Catching his hand, she held it there and willed herself not to cry. She wanted him to remember her strength, not her weakness.

“I would like to gift you a child.”

“Not possible.”

“I know.” He picked up the protective sheath. “Then put this on me and let me honour you with my body.”

His cock was heavy and full. Her passionate outburst had done nothing to cool his ardour. She pressed a kiss to the tip before rolling on the condom with shaking fingers. Later, she would kiss her way over his body, explore every inch of his flesh. Right now she needed him inside of her, filling her, making good on his promise.

Pushing him gently back to rest on his heels, she held onto his shoulders and straddled his lap. The iron band of his arm steadied her as she guided him in. He was big, but she was more than ready for him. Some day, with some man, she would have a child. Everyone did, eventually. But not with this man.

Every lift of her hips, every thrust brought them closer. She tried to mirror his intense focus, the way he locked his gaze with hers, the slow undulating rhythm. Difficult when at the same time the hand jammed between them was covering her breast, squeezing lightly in time to their moving hips.

The room tipped wildly, then the mattress was at her back and Fabian was pounding into her with an intensity that hurt. Leaving her a memory that would never fade. When she tightened around him, he let go with a deep groan that set her nerve endings on fire.

She felt bereft when he rolled away to lie panting beside her. Elated when he gathered her up and tucked her into his side. The heat of him warded off the chill of the evening and she no longer felt like crying. This time with him had been a gift. One she would treasure for a long time to come.