Protected by Stone (A Paranormal Romance Novel) (21 page)

Instead of answering, he placed a hand on the frosty glass. I thought he was evaluating what he was seeing out there.

Stepping closer, I copied him and touched the window. It was freezing, my breath fogging it up. Wider than my arms, if I'd stretched them both I wouldn't have touched the edges. “
Does
this open up?”

“It does,” he said, glancing down at me under knit brows. “But it's very cold outside, Farra.”

I wasn't listening. I'd spotted the latch, flipping it open in excitement. It took a hard push to move the window, the ice had sealed the edges. For a second I stumbled, momentum carrying me forward. The snow snatched at me, eager to throw me out into the white world below.

Nimble hands yanked me back, holding me around the waist. “Careful!” he hissed, seething with fear and worry.

I didn't notice.

“This is so beautiful,” I said, gazing out at the ice canvas the hills had become. The window was on the side of the house, explaining how I'd missed it. The slope of the shingles blocked it from below, the solar panels installed on the opposite half of the roof. “I can't believe this view!”

Glancing down, I spotted a flat edge jutting a few feet under the sill. I went to step out, but he held me tight. “Don't, it's slippery.”

“I just want to look,” I assured him. “Let me sit here, then, just inside.” He was tense, but allowed me to hang my legs over into the air. The wind was harsh, snowflakes pattering into the room, sticking to my cheeks. “I can't believe this, your room is amazing!”

He sat beside me, one knee to his chest. “You think so? I feared it might be too plain, too unwelcoming.”

“It's not very warm,” I said, staring at the clouds above. “Does that bother you? I could find out how to get heat up here. Light is easy enough.”

His laugh was gentle, fingers reaching down to entwine with mine between us. “I don't mind the cold. Besides, I spend most of my time in the greenhouse.”

Squeezing his palm, I brushed my hair from my forehead. Bits of snow fell free, melting in my lap. “I don't spend a lot of time in my room, either. I still don't get why you were hiding this from me.”

His lips pressed to my brow-bone, inclining me to shut my eyes. “I didn't think you'd like it. It gets windy, the sound comes through the cracks. It's not a very... suitable place for people.”

For people?
I wondered what he meant. Surely, if it was suitable for him, it was fine for others.

“You know,” I whispered, peeking at him through my lashes. I saw that snow had settled on his, blending with the ivory color. “There
are
ways to fight against the cold, to make a place suitable.”

My breath steamed between us, dancing onto his ashen skin. In the low light, he looked as grey as the first night I'd met him. His shoulders wrapped around, shielding me from the wind. It wouldn't have mattered, my core was hot enough to distract me from such things.

I would have stayed there in the window, letting him kiss me from chin to cheek, if he'd allowed us. Scooping me up, he pulled the green glass shut, hiding us from the winter chill.

Only the lantern showed our bodies, orange glow turning our shadows into giants. I hadn't seen a bed, but Grault placed me on a mattress in the corner furthest from the window.

The blankets lacked warmth, my body helped change that. I was burning up, almost wanting the snow to come back.

“Your coat,” I mumbled, tugging at the coarse material.

His fingers peeled the buttons down, revealing the moon-glow of his pale chest. “Sorry, I forgot it was damp.”

Sitting up, I pulled it down his arms. “That's not why,” I said, my smile coy. “You're behind the curve if you're still thinking about the snow.”

In the shadows, his lips curled like flames. I almost missed it, busy staring at the hard dips of his muscles. “Forgive me for that. I'll try to catch up.”

There was a retort on my lips. He stole it away, teeth grazing my sensitive skin. My fingers were shaking, trailing over his bare back to explore the nooks and lines. He felt
powerful
, something I'd always been aware of in theory. Now, having Grault pressing me down with the same arms that had carried me so easily from danger, I was losing my mind.

His breath caressed my inner ear, palms racing down my ribs. He didn't ask if he could lift my sweater, but I wasn't about to deny him. I wanted to feel his incredibly silken skin, polished marble, on my own.

How is he in such good shape? It's amazing, it's... these shoulders, god.
I should have felt shy, wondered why someone as fit and handsome as Grault would give me the time of day. But the way he held me, ravished me in such a hungry desperate display, there was no room for doubt.

He
wanted
me, wanted me more than I'd seen him crave for anything else.
No, wait, that's not entirely true. The night he came for me, he almost knocked my door down. That was...
My thoughts fled, erased by how he ripped my shirt over my head. It left me dizzy, brunette hair frazzled.

Grault had always been so controlled with me, so polite and proper. Even as we grew close, I'd only seen hints of the beast laying in wait.

It was like I'd entered his lair, the place he'd warned me away from. Now, alone with him in the dark, he was letting himself free.

His snarl along my throat, buried in the crook above my shoulder, elicited a gasp. A single, easy yank tore my bra open.
Slow down,
I thought suddenly, but my body ignored my plea. I arched against him, soft stomach crushed on his iron muscles.

His chest was rumbling like an engine. It burned me up, dragged me along for the ride. He flexed against me, torso rock hard, hips insistent.

We met eyes, a split second that let me see the ancient blackness glowing in his. I wanted to say something, anything. He smiled, and I imagined the glint of sharp teeth.

Had
I imagined them?

What was left of my words dissipated, his face burying against my breasts. It was wet, reminding me of melting hail. The kisses of his expert lips proved even better on my delicate chest.

He's so confident, he knows what he's doing. Maybe I was wrong about his age... maybe he is as old as he claims...

Every tug of his mouth made me squeal, my cheek rubbing on the blanket. I was grateful for his strange, blunt name. It let me hiss it through my teeth with my next moan. “Grault! I—just...”

If he heard me, he gave no hint. Or maybe it was why he slid his fingers down to my waist. He had complete control of me, his animal drive setting my cells aflame.

I felt him, then, the heat between his thighs. He pulled himself over me, blocking out the light of the lantern. I could see nothing of his face, but his aura poured off of him in waves; lust, pure lust.

We don't have protection,
I thought suddenly. It was a cold shock, reminding me painfully of my own mother, her young pregnancy. I was older, but I'd be lying to say I felt ready to be a mom.

And yet... feeling the hot, rigid weight of his manhood between us, it was burying my rationale. His scent, the way he so easily slid my jeans down, grew the fog in my head.

I shouldn't have been so reckless. It wasn't like me. It was also difficult to remember what I
was
like, with the way his hands felt playing over my hips.

Bad idea,
I thought silently, groaning into his hard collar bone.
Irresponsible,
I noted, reaching down to feel the throbbing shape of his member.

Awful, dumb, dangerous.

My scream echoed in the loft when he pushed inside, shoving my panties out of the way. The fact he hadn't even taken them off set my belly surging.

He exhaled in my ear, growling deep in the back of his throat. It vibrated against my skull. I felt myself floating away.

Every pump of his hips made me louder, it was useless to try to bite back the noise. He gripped my middle, almost circling around the whole thing with his long fingers. I felt so small, so wrapped up in every fiber of that man.

I'd wanted him to want me, to stop denying me, and now he was. Now, there was nothing
left
to deny. He had all of me, he'd taken it without question, like he'd known all along that I wished for it.

Grault crushed me down, sliding against my slick flesh. The pressure in my center was building, growing so much I thought I might break in two. I felt full, I felt safe, I felt...

I felt loved.

“Farra,” he grunted, moving me against him as he hit his peak. That was it for me. I couldn't control the heat waves, how they made my toes clench and knot.

Feeling his release shoved me over. I wondered, if I had fallen from the window, if it would have felt similar to this.

Electric fire, my muscles twitched. I knew I'd left nail marks in his back, how could I not have?

In my daze, coming down from my crescendo, I noticed it was my fingers that actually hurt.
Like I was digging my nails into concrete.

Grault nuzzled my neck, sitting up over me. His eyes were still searing, but they cooled to concern in seconds. “Farra, I'm—was I too rough? Forgive me, I was just—”

“Shut up,” I chuckled, my hands in his short hair, guiding him so I could taste his lips. “I'm fine, that was just... I don't even know.” My face was glowing, I felt the heat radiating.

Grault kissed my eyebrows, then slid free with a wince. Nude, he turned away on the blankets. In the glow of the lantern, I saw the intricate tattoos on his shoulder blades.

“Those are beautiful,” I whispered, reaching out to touch them. “When I saw them that day in the greenhouse, I was astonished. It must have hurt to get done, though, they're so big and everything—oh, uh, speaking of which. I think I might have cut you some, with my nails. Sorry about that, I wasn't exactly thinking straight.”

His eyes flashed, one palm reaching back to stroke his own skin. He didn't
look
hurt, but I blamed it on the darkness. “It's fine, I was more worried I'd injured you.”

“No,” I insisted, sitting up on my knees. Draping my arms around his neck, I hugged him from behind. “Don't even say that. I'm a tough girl, haven't you noticed?”

Grault's smile was brittle. “I suppose I have.”

Glancing around, I felt my trepidation growing. The chill was coming back, my body heat fleeing as the passion did. “I mean this in the nicest way, but I might not be able to sleep up here.”

There, the lines of his forehead grew. I saw them before he turned away. “You're right. You should go back to your room.”

“Don't misunderstand,” I said, feeling the tension in his neck. “I
would
stay, but this snow is making things awful. We'll have to get your room more, uh, hospitable. I don't know how you can handle it, actually.”

He offered me my sweater, then hesitated when he lifted the broken lingerie. “Not my proudest moment.”

“Shh,” I said, taking them both, “I enjoyed that moment. So stop ruining it.” My grin was meant to tease, I was relieved to see him mirror me.

Dressing quickly, I gave him another long hug. He seemed in no rush to redress, but I didn't mind. He was pure eye candy.

Leaving him was a chore. He kissed me a few more times, each of them making my heart flutter. I began to hate the cold, an idea forming. “You could come sleep in my room,” I blurted.

“What?” he asked, sitting up straight. “Would that be appropriate?”

My eyebrow slowly crawled upwards.

Laughing, he slipped his pants up, the sound of the zipper making my veins crackle. “I've always spent the nights—well.” He didn't finish, and I watched him stare out at the window. “Perhaps, tonight, it wouldn't matter.”

“What wouldn't matter?” I asked.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the lantern and offered it to me. “Never mind. Come, let's go to your bed.”

“My room,” I said, poking his naked chest. “I never said my bed. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

His answer was a deep tangle of tongues, palms holding me up as my knees crumbled. “The kind of girl I'd like to keep warm,” he whispered.

With a giant smile, I led him down the stairs.

––––––––

T
he dream wasn't what woke me.

In the dark, my eyes saw nothing. Blackness surrounded me, the lantern the only steady constant.

Beside me, I felt Grault's smooth skin. His breathing was soft, peaceful. I was only just coming to my senses when I heard the sound again.

What was that?

It was faint, tickling the edges of my memory. I thought I should
know
what it was, but I couldn't pin it.

Sitting up gently, not wanting to wake Grault, I grabbed the lantern and headed into the hall. My ears strained, focusing.
Where is it coming from?

On stocking-clad feet, I crept down the dark hall. The lantern light flickered, glinting off of the bulbs at the bottom of the stairs. They were dim, a sight that set my pulse dancing.

Why are the lights out? What's wrong?

I'd left the lamps on constantly, something that hadn't seemed a problem.
Shit, I think the power must be drained.
The grey clouds had been hanging around for a few days, the sun unable to recharge the cells.

Awesome, pure darkness. Well, almost.
Hoisting the lantern, I stared around the rounded room. The wailing of the wind sent pin pricks up the backs of my arms.
Okay, starting to scare myself.

I thought the sound was coming from the right hallway, towards the kitchen. Confused by what it could be, I moved silently along the carpet. My legs were cramping from how tense I was, how quiet I was trying to be.

The orange lamp shined on the kitchen floor. At first, I swore the slickness was from my spilled cup of tea. I'd forgotten about it earlier, distracted by Grault's promise to show me his room.

Now, seeing the mug turned sideways, I realized the wetness was too great for just some leftover tea. Twisting, I lifted the lantern, illuminating the open window. The source of the noise was clear, the chilly air was blowing snow everywhere.