The Charmer (24 page)

He reared up to watch her, something like
surprise and fierce satisfaction in his face. “More,” he commanded,
and slipped a finger inside her.

This time she screamed.

Thoroughly aroused, eyes bright, he demanded,
“Again,” This time his thumb circled her sensitive peak as he slid
two fingers inside her, fast.

Her response deafened them both.

“Please!” she cried, scrabbling at his back,
begging with her words and her body. “Please! I-I can’t—”

”Yes,” he promised. “I will please you.” He
tossed his hair over his shoulder and kissed his way down her
belly, teasing the sensitive hollows as he went.

“Keilor!” she wailed. What was the man doing?
She wanted him, needed him more with each passing second, and all
he wanted to do was stoke the fire! What would it take to make him
put it out?

By the time he reached her ankles and began
to lick his way back up she was ready to kill him. She begged for
more with her hands, tugged urgently at his hair, yet he
wouldn’t—

He reached her inner thigh, and she knew she
was about to die. No woman could possibly survive this kind of
pleasure. There was no time to consider whether or not she was
ready when his burning lips left her thigh and covered her
intimately. His tongue darted deep within and she went mad. She
twisted and begged him to stop, to not stop, to make
it
stop
while her hands tangled in his hair and forced him to remain
exactly where he was.

And he loved it.

One look at his riotous eyes was all her
overloaded senses could take. A beast knelt between her legs,
feasting on her body, deliberately driving her to the edge of
sanity. She began to sob. Any more and the barriers she’d
constructed around her emotions would vanish, leaving her
completely exposed. “I can’t take it!”

“You will,” he growled against her. He gave
her a long, deliberate kiss.

And the walls came a’ tumbling down.

Only then, when she was completely spent,
trembling, and feeling more shy and untried than at any other time
in her life, did he come to her. He stripped off his pants as she
slipped under the covers, hiding. It did no good. He simply flung
the covers back and pinned her hips to the bed with his own,
slipping his legs between her thighs to spread them wide. “I’m
going to love you so deeply you’ll never get me outside of you,” he
warned her. “You’ll walk from this bed, but you’ll take a piece of
me with you wherever you go.”

She panted as the broad head of his erection
parted her slick folds. She wanted him there, but it burned. She
knew she’d taken all she could when the burning turned to fierce
pain. “Are you done yet?” she demanded, freezing up around him.

He huffed in disbelief. “I’ve barely begun.”
He pressed harder, gaining what seemed to be more than enough
ground.

“H-how ‘bout now?”

Teeth gritted, he forced himself to a
trembling halt. “Have you done this before?” His breathing was
harsh and getting harsher.

“Once. Four years ago,” she admitted with
embarrassment, adding defensively, “But it didn’t hurt then!”

He growled. “What was he, deformed? You’re as
tight as any virgin. Never mind,” he told her as she tried to hide
her face. “All the better that I be the one to break you in.”

The actual words were harsh, but she
understood what he meant. Reassured, for she’d had no way of
knowing what he’d think of her sexual history, she found the
strength to endure as he slowly and gently worked his way in.

“That will have to be enough,” he said at
last. “You can’t take any more of me tonight.”

Her eyes widened with indignation. What she’d
already ‘taken’ had caused her discomfort enough. The idea of
having to absorb more of him at another time displeased her
greatly.

Her expression must have said as much, for he
laughed, causing vibrations deep within. Giving her a quick kiss,
he told her, “Don’t worry, sweet, you’ll soon have cause to be
thankful for a big lover.” His eyes darkened, and he became
serious. “Tell me if it hurts.”

He withdrew a fraction, and she stiffened in
pain. The careful return thrust was no better. Switching tactics,
he began to rock her gently, neither pushing nor withdrawing, using
the least possible friction. The micro movements were bearable as
the longer thrusts hadn’t been. She began to feel a touch of
pleasure in spite of the discomfort, just enough to keep her from
asking him to stop. Still, it was a guilty relief when he threw his
head back in a silent roar as he shuddered with his own climax.

He held his weight over her for long moments
while she stroked his damp back. When he finally gathered his
strength and rolled off, drawing her with him, she lay quietly with
her head on his chest, thinking.

“So, when do I get to climax?”

Keilor drew back, startled, and peered at
her. “Sweetheart, you found your pleasure so many times I lost
count.”

She propped herself up on her elbow and
frowned at him. “I didn’t feel like I was exploding, or flying, or
anything like that.” When his expression grew even more mystified,
she explained lamely, “That’s what all the romance novels I’ve read
described it as.”

He laughed and shook his head at her. He
opened his mouth, but words must have been beyond him because
nothing came out. Instead, he leaned over and kissed her, grinning
against her lips. Then his hand drifted down her body as he worked
his potent magic.

This time when the pleasure came, she knew it
for what it was.

“Oh,” she panted, when the power of speech
returned.

“Oh,” he agreed smugly, propped on his elbow
as he watched her. He smoothed the hair from her face with fingers
that smelled of sex. “How is it that such a beautiful woman comes
to me almost untouched?” His eyes warmed. “I am grateful, but
astonished. Wasn’t there anyone?”

Jasmine ducked her head. “No one ever thought
of me as beautiful.”

“Impossible,” he assured her, and gave her
another tender kiss. “What of slug tongue?”

She choked with laughter.

He sighed and drew her close, lying back on
the pillows. “Their foolishness is my good fortune, and I am a
happy man tonight.” He kissed her temple. “Go to sleep, wife, in
the arms of the man who loves you.” He felt her swallow against his
chest.

“I love you, too, Keilor.”

He kissed her again and settled back with a
contented sigh. “I know.”

Chapter 20

What a view.

Jasmine wasn’t one for mornings, but if she
got to wake up to
this
every day, she just might revise her
opinion.

Keilor leaned against the back of a chair as
he watched the sunrise. Pink and gold light delineated every inch
of his superbly naked body. It was a sight to make a make a maiden
faint, or even a newly made wife.

She must have made some sound, for suddenly
she was looking at her first, full frontal view of a naked man.
Fire leapt to her cheeks, and she looked down. They might have done
it
, but she’d never actually checked one out before, and she
just couldn’t stare at it—him

and still
look him in the face.

He had no such hang ups.

“Good morning,” he murmured and joined her on
the bed. He slid down to suckle on one unsuspecting breast. She
grabbed his head and arched with pleasure, only to cry out as sore
muscles protested.

Instantly he stopped, concerned. “Are you
alright?”

She gave him a rueful smile. “Just a little
sore, is all. It surprised me.”

“Ah.” He looked down at the painful area,
hidden under the blankets, until she squirmed. He sighed. “I shall
have to be very careful with you, I see.” Casanova poked his nose
at him, asking for attention, and he petted the little villi. As he
did he shifted, exposing himself to her.

Jasmine looked away.

He smiled and gave her another sweet kiss.
“You have nothing to fear, my love. I like it when you look at me.”
He took her hand and guided it to him, showed her what he liked. “I
like it even better when you touch me.”

Given formal permission, Jasmine explored
him. She watched as her hand moved from wet tip and silky-hardness
to the vulnerable testi at the base. All the while, he neither
flinched nor displayed the least bit of self-consciousness. When
she began to stroke him with a rhythmic pattern, he wrapped his
hand around hers and showed her the proper pressure and timing,
then let go and let her have her way. Head back, he reveled in the
pleasure. It was beautiful.

He was beautiful.

Afterward they shared a bath. As they
cleansed away the exertions of the night, new fires began. She was
still too tender to fully appreciate his loving, but still she
wanted him too badly to stop. She knew it would get better every
time until nothing was left but pure, sweet pleasure.

They ate breakfast and reclined on the bed
afterward. Keilor held her against his chest while they talked.

“We’ll need to choose a suite,” Keilor
murmured, drawing her hair away to kiss her neck. “Our rooms aren’t
suitable for a mated couple.” She felt him smile against her skin.
“I think we’ll have to take this bed and the mirror with us,
though.”

Some of her drowsiness fled and she turned
over to swat him in playful warning. “Don’t you dare!” He grinned
and nipped at her, then pretended to wrestle, ending their play
with a long, drugging kiss.

Reluctantly he drew away, murmuring, “Many
more nights.” He settled her comfortably into his arms. With his
chin on her head, he said, “Jayems’ and Rihlia’s wedding ceremony
is tonight. Maybe you should get some rest. It’s bound to be a long
evening.”

A sudden thought struck her, and she leaned
up on one elbow, her head on her hand. “Do we have to have a
ceremony?”

He brushed her hair off her shoulder. “Do you
want one?” he asked, feeling indulgent. If that was what she
wanted, he wouldn’t argue. Personally, he’d never favored public
ceremonies, and wouldn’t feel any more married for it. As far as he
and Haunt law were concerned, she was now his wife.

She frowned and looked at the bed. “To tell
the truth, I’d rather just skip it. It seems like a lot of bother
just to announce to the world that we’re, ah, married.”

The careful way she said it raised his short
hairs. He pinned her with a hard stare. “You gave me your promise,
charmer.”

It was the wrong word to use.

She wouldn’t look at him. “I said I was yours
for as long as you want me.” She took a deep breath. “In twenty or
thirty years—“

He forced her to look at him, to see his
anger. “My promise was for a lifetime, wife. And I meant it.” She
pulled away, and he cursed the fact that she was too new to loving
to speak with his body. She needed his possession right now.

Unsure what else to do, he got up and pulled
on his clothes, intent on working off his frustration. “I don’t
understand you, woman,” he said grimly. He tugged on the carefully
polished boots, so at odds with his careless housekeeping. “One
moment you trust me enough to take me to your bed, and the next you
are taking me for an honorless animal.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut
her off, his eyes sparking gold. “You’ve got something to learn
about your new world,
wife
. Haunt men take but one mate, and
we don’t touch another woman for as long as she lives, unless we
wish to go insane. Unlike humans, once mated, for us there is no
going back. As soon as the fluids mix, a connection is made that
won’t bear severance.

“Unlike you, I can never play you false. Do
you not think I considered that carefully before I spoke to
Jayems?”

“I’m not planning to run off with the butler
and the family jewels the first chance I get!” Most of what he said
went right over her head. He already thought of her betraying him?
Is that what he expected? “I was just trying to give you breathing
room, a chance to bow out gracefully when—”

He turned on his heel and stalked to the
door. “I’m not listening to any more of this. If I’d known what
madness it was to take a human for a wife—” The door slammed,
cutting off whatever else he had to say.

Jasmine stared at the door, wondering what
just happened. She’d tried to be considerate. He’d never be able to
have kids with her, and she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t be
revolted once old age set in. It wouldn’t be fair not to let him
go.

Her chest constricted, and she flinched at
the thought of Keilor taking another lover, or a wife. She’d be
better off to think of this as an extended affair.

Her eyes prickled, and she flopped back on
the bed, her arm over her eyes. So much for the honeymoon.

The moment Rihlia saw her somber face, she
dropped everything. She dragged Jasmine into her old room and
firmly shut the door. The lock snicked shut.

The women who’d hovered around her, fussing
over her wedding dress, protested loudly. They were ignored.

“Out with it,” she demanded, and sat down on
the bed. She pulled Jasmine down to the white and yellow quilt. “I
know Keilor spent the night with you.”

“Ri!” Jasmine rolled her eyes and avoided her
friend’s curious gaze. She felt guilty for taking her away from her
wedding preparations, but she’d needed to talk to someone, and
somehow she’d doubted Keilor would appreciate her talking to the
door guards.

“So now you’re married,” she continued, all
curiosity, not realizing in her happiness that Jasmine wasn’t
nearly as thrilled.

“Sort of,” Jasmine hedged.

A frown gathered on Rihlia’s brow. “Sort of?
How can you be ‘sort of’ married, Jas? Didn’t you sleep with him?
Didn’t he make you a promise?” A golden square of sunlight from the
mullioned windows sparkled on the gems in her hair. Their gaiety
was a sharp contrast to her expression of concern. No bride should
look so serious.