Trefoil (16 page)

With Nathan under the same roof but out of reach, Lillian got little sleep. So when John nuzzled her awake, she batted him. He laughed, low and deep, and kissed her on the forehead.

“That’s my spunky girl,” he said, mouth working over her throat to the tips of her bare breasts. She stretched beneath his kiss, drawing in a breath when he sucked her nipple hard.

Jackknifing upward, she caught him around the neck and hurled them both back into bed. He was fresh from the shower, dressed in suit pants and a dress shirt for his day ahead with Dante. The cool notes of his aftershave played in her nose as she worked his buttons.

A rumble vibrated his chest when she reached flesh. Her tongue flicked against the tight nipple set in its bed of crisp dark hair, and the rumble grew. She threw her leg over his waist, pinning him with her moist sex. She ground against his waist, her need ratcheting up a notch as he pinched and pulled her nipples.

Abruptly, she slithered down his body, taking small bites of his skin on the way to his cock. The flavor of her juices was on her lips, driving her lower to taste his.

“I’ve gotta taste your come,” she whispered, raising a harsh moan from him. Her mouth closed about his thick shaft, sucking him to the root. His fists clenched in her hair, sending a new trickle of cream down her inner thigh. She loved when he played rough, but it was rare.

Her tongue turned somersaults over his shaft, twirling about the head where a droplet of pre-come coated her taste buds. She increased her pressure, drawing on his cock until her cheeks hollowed. Wanting more. Wanting his rich, long spurts on her tongue, filling her mouth.

His hand locked on her waist, and he yanked her lower body around to sit on his face. Her breasts swung over his belly, and she wriggled at the sensation of his hot skin against hers.

As his mouth met her soaking pussy, she moaned around his cock. His jaw, though freshly shaven, burned her delicate flesh. He lapped up her cream, tongue poking into her hole briefly before circling up to capture her pulsing clit.

All night, it had throbbed with Visions of Nathan. The previous afternoon, before John had arrived home from a day at the office with Dante, Nathan had spent hours worshipping her breasts. Sucking until she thought she’d come. Pinching until she cried out. Kneading until she quaked. But he refused to advance his torturous foreplay, whispering roughly that he was terrified he couldn’t stop himself from completing their bond. After hours of torment, she climbed into John’s bed and demanded he fuck her.

He had taken her in every position known to man, making her come over and over, and finally fucking her ass until she experienced a mind-blowing orgasm that had left her depleted.

John pulled her clit into his mouth hard, harder than ever, and she screamed with pleasure. “Suck it, baby,” she rasped. “I’m gonna fill your mouth with my cream.”

In response to her hot words, his cock swelled, the head nudging the roof of her mouth. She drew it into her throat, stroking the base of his shaft with determined fingers, milking him. His salty fluid slipped onto her tongue and her pussy responded with a bit of her own. They writhed against each other, mouth-fucking, tits grinding against his tough abs, her hair stroking his thighs.

He gripped the globes of her ass, spreading her cheeks so the air kissed her pucker. It was sensitive after last night’s assault, but eager for more. He dipped two fingers into her slick heat, curled slightly to stroke her g-spot, keeping her spread, while he licked her hard bud. She fucked his face, fucked his fingers, body melting until her world narrowed to include only his mouth, fingers, and her pussy.

When his thumb circled her asshole, she began to quiver. She pressed her ass against his thumb. His fingers worked her deep, his mouth hot silk on her clit. She licked the spongy head of his cock, sensing his orgasm was near. His balls drew up tight in her hand, beginning the pulsing that meant he was about to burst. God, she wanted that thick come in her mouth. She gulped him to the root again just as his thumb poked through the tight rim of her anus, spearing her.

Stars burst behind her eyes. Hot green stars that showered her body with feeling as waves broke over her. John held her hips tighter, thumb prodding her hole, fingers plunging, tongue grinding her core of nerves.

His stomach muscles clenched beneath her breasts, and a hot rush of seed filled her mouth. It hit the back of her throat in quick bursts. She swallowed it down as her own juices flooded John’s hands and face. He shook his face against it, gathering her fluid.

She sank against him, body humming. If only she could convince Nathan to play with her this way.

John gently lifted her off him. He sat up, hair mussed, pupils blown wide, jaw glistening with her juices. She smiled.

“I’m late,” he said.

“You need another shower. Dante will wait. Come on.” She rolled to her feet and gripped his hand. She led him into the luxurious spa shower and soaped him from head to foot. When they were finished, she lay exhausted on their bed, watching him dress in freshly pressed clothes.

He turned to her with a loving smile, eyes aglow. He kissed her forehead, tip of her nose and mouth. “Keep it hot for me, baby. I’ll be home by dinner.”

“I’m glad you're enjoying learning the shipping trade.”

“Dante is a brilliant man. I’m lucky to call him friend.” He kissed her once more, and then paused. He gripped her left wrist and twisted off her wedding cuff, shocking her. In all their years together, he had never removed it. When he brought the blood medallion to his mouth, she shuddered, his kiss penetrating her to the most intimate part of her, like kissing her blood.

He lifted his head, eyes glazed.

“What was that for?”

“I love you, Lillian. You’re my world,” he said.

She drew him into her arms, mind working furiously.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said.

Her heart pinched painfully, causing him to look at her. “I’ll be here when you return, John. Have a great day with Dante.”

His dark eyes searched hers, and she fought to remain still, trying to hide her shaking, hoping he didn’t see that glowing orb that marked her as Nathan’s. When she looked in the mirror, the mark was now evident to her.

She nudged him toward the door. “Better get moving. Dante will wonder what happened to you.”

“He’ll know I was loving my wife,” John growled, kissing her roughly once more. And then he was spinning for the door, flashing a final grin.

After he left, she laid still, misery seeping into her frame. The sky was just lightening with the light of dawn. Beyond her window, the morning looked grey and cold. She shivered beneath the covers, thinking of the web she was caught in. She loved two men. Two men wanted her. Two men hated each other. And she couldn’t decide. To leave John would be like tearing off a limb. To leave Nathan would kill her. Either way, her heart would suffer.

She jumped out of bed and dressed as quickly as possible. She opened the door into the deserted corridor, padded five doors down and knocked.

Will received her with a boyish grin. The scent of aftershave clung to him, though he hadn’t shaved the auburn scuff. “Good morning, doll.” With a flourish, he stepped aside to admit her to his suite. His bedroom stood straight ahead, and a living space off to the left. Decorated in tones of orange and retro furnishings, it was nothing like the rest of the house. She crossed the thick shag carpeting to the wall of shelving and began reading the titles of his CDs. After a minute, she spun on him.

“When exactly were you Made?”

“1975. Why?”

“That explains this,” she said, holding up an
Earth, Wind and Fire
CD.

He shrugged. “You got me.” He sank to his desk chair and swiveled to face her.

“I need you to look something up on your computer for me.”

“What are we looking for?”

“Not what. Who. My mortal husband, Robert Albright.”

His eyes popped. “Say that again. You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Before I was Made, I was married to a man named Robert Albright. He died at Pearl Harbor. Nathan mentioned he found him on the internet. Can you?”

He flipped open his laptop. “Do you remember much about him, Lil?”

Her braid dropped over her shoulder when she shook her head. “Not enough.”

Will typed in Robert Albright’s name and waited a second, meeting her eyes. “You gonna be okay with this, Lillian? Or should you lie down first?”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up and let me read it.” Over his shoulder she read the obituary. As she read, her blood grew colder, and the sick feel was in her once again, like the answers lay within her grasp.

“My God,” she whispered. “I’d even forgotten my whole name.”

“Lillian Howard Burton Albright. Howard?” Will asked.

“My mother’s maiden name.” She slumped against Will’s side. His arms spun around her waist and he supported her until her trembling passed.

“You okay, Lillian?”

She yawned enormously.

“Why don’t you lie down? No one will bother you here, and it’s early yet.”

She took two steps to his bed and collapsed facedown. “I—wufm sapid iss na uh wabeh,” she said, muffled by the duvet cover.

“What?” Will cracked up.

She turned her head to free her mouth. “I said I’m surprised it’s not a waterbed.”

“Shut up, Lillian.” He slapped her backside.

Laughing, she flipped over and gazed up at him as he pulled off her favorite crocodile peep-toe heels. “Will, do you have anyone special? A mortal girl?”

His brown eyes saddened. “I did a few weeks ago. In Chicago.”

“What happened?”

“It wasn’t for me. I broke it off the night before I met you.”

“Are you okay with that?”

He nodded, auburn hair flopping into one eye. “It was the right choice.”

She yawned again and curled onto her side. Will returned to his laptop, and she drifted off to the tapping of keys and the memory of Robert Albright’s warm brown eyes. Just what you need, Lillian, she thought. A third man.

“Will,” Nathan said, bracing himself in Will’s bedroom doorway, “Do you know where—” A moan bubbled from his chest as he saw Lillian sprawled across Will’s bed. “Oh, my God! Is she—?”

He whirled toward Nathan on his desk chair. “She’s sleeping, Nate.”

Nathan’s heart flipped with relief, and then hardened with anger. “What is she doing here? With you?”

“She came to me after she saw John off this morning. She wanted to do a search for Robert Albright.”

“And did you?” Nathan’s fingers squeezed into his palms. His jaw snapped on a roar.

“Yes.”

“Well? What was her reaction?”

Will shrugged, and Nathan lunged at him, intending to choke it from him. This was no game. This was his immortal mate.

Before he reached him, Will pointed at Lillian.

She lay on one side, with her legs locked together and the long coil of hair dangling over her shoulder to rest on the bed before her. She wore a slim navy skirt and a cardigan the color of hyacinths.

His anger faded away, to be replaced with tenderness.

“Don’t wake her,” said Will. “I don’t think she’s slept for days. After she wakes, I’m going to take her downstairs and feed her, even if I have to drive to a sushi bar to find something.”

Nathan raised a brow.

“Never mind. I have things to do. Why don’t you stay with her?” Will suggested, gaining his feet. He left before Nathan responded.

He sank to the edge of the bed, trying not to rustle her, and lifted her heavy plait of hair. He stared at the sleeping woman—his woman, and his heart filled with emotion. Her skin was pale and luminous, lashes dark against her cheek, casting stubby shadows. A soft blush was blooming on her cheeks as the sleep restored her. Her parted lips were dark pink and full, perfectly bowed. He wanted very badly to taste them.

Instead, he stretched out facing her, touching nothing but the braid of hair. He closed his eyes and let her sweet breath wash across his face, matching the rhythm of his breathing to hers.

He felt her come awake by degrees. Her mind lifted through a web of blackness like a buoy coming to the surface of a dark lake. When she opened her eyes, his face was inches from hers. Before she stirred, he clasped her, crushed her to him, took control of those lips that had plagued him for the past hour.

One hand trapped hers overhead while the other traveled from the curve of her breast to the indentation of her waist to her sexy hips. He pressed his thumb into the soft spot that sunk around her hip bone. She wriggled against it, her mouth wild.

She rolled atop him, bringing his immortal tattoo in full contact with her chest. She jerked. Her eyes widened—two grey windows to her soul.

She scrabbled at the buttons on his shirt, tearing it open to the waist. And then her mouth was on it.

An explosion of electricity shook them, charring a hole in their souls. They pitched through the hole headlong. She clung to him, her mouth searing, his veins searing. He fought to create distance, but she was locked to him. They spiraled into the deep well of darkness, and then there was a plunge like water.

He gasped. Leaned over her. Shouted her name. He gathered her up, but her head flopped back.

Will burst into the room, assessing the situation in a heartbeat. “What did you do? You didn’t try to—?”

“No. Something else. She’s okay, I think. Lillian. Are you okay?” He scanned her body, and upon finding nothing wrong, he relaxed minutely. He clutched her against his chest, rocking her. “What did you do? Oh, my God, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She went utterly still. Then leapt to her knees and clasped his face between her palms. “Can you feel that?” she cried.

He searched her eyes, concentrating on his inner workings and detecting a new sense. He occupied her soul in a brand new way. He clearly saw her thoughts moving through her mind. He felt her heart beat inside his chest. It resided next to his, as though he’d grown a second one.

“What did you do?” Will burst out. Will glanced fearfully between them.

“Do you feel my heartbeat now, beside yours?” she asked Nathan. He nodded. “And my thoughts? You can see them, like pictures?”

He gripped her hands. “My God. You’re thinking of the moment you saw me in the cemetery. The way the fog pooled around me.”

Her smile was wild with joy. “I linked us. I linked us more closely. Not imprinted, but—” She pulled off the left bracelet and stared hard at the blood medallion. It was inflamed, welted.

“No,” he exclaimed, cradling her wrist with extreme caution, as if blood might spurt forth any moment.

“It hurts,” she admitted.

Will bent over them, heads nearly touching. “How did you do this, Lillian?”

“It was his tattoo. I put my mouth on it, and he opened up to me.” She met Nathan’s gaze. They both knew this was how the Calling had started, in a Vision, with Nathan’s mouth on her tattoo.

Her fingers flew to her breast, gingerly probing the spot over her heart, coming away damp and sticky.

Nathan’s blood turned to ice. Will slammed into the hall, yelling for Maria and Ricardo. In a jerky movement, Nathan stripped Lillian of her sweater and then more gently peeled the camisole over her head. Blood bloomed on her breast. Nathan began to shake violently, mind reeling with terror and images of his warning dream, but also the sharp need to finish their bond.

Maria appeared in the doorway. She gasped, clapped a hand to her mouth, then turned and bolted down the hall. Ricardo swept into the room next. “She’s bleeding.”

“Here,” Maria said, returning with a first aid kit. She shoved it into Ricardo’s hands.

He worked with calm and gentle fingers. Once cleaned, the wound appeared to be a pinprick. “The start of an imprint,” he said grimly. He fixed Nathan in his glare. “You knew better! Why the hell did you attempt it?”

Nathan shook his head, the lump of fear in his throat choking off his words, if his mind could have formed them.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Lillian said, placing a hand on Ricardo’s forearm. “I did it.”

“What happened?” he asked more reasonably.

Nathan stared at her through burning eyes, seeing blood, pints and pints, soaking her breast, streaking down her face.

Calm down. I’m all right,
she said into his soul.

He swayed with the force. Her voice literally vibrated him now. Will caught him and guided him to a chair. Oh, my God, he thought, swallowing a cry. If I lose her, I’ll die. I’ll want to fucking die. But I’ll be trapped, like Ricardo.

She plucked the thoughts from his mind.
No. It won’t happen.

Ricardo handed Lillian her clothing.

“I won’t lay another hand on you,” Nathan said raggedly.

“No,” she cried, jumping off the bed.

“I agree with his decision,” Ricardo said. “Look at what happened from simply putting your mouth to his tattoo. You weren’t joined, and no blood was shared. You mustn’t do it again, Lillian. You can’t touch him like that again. That pinprick of the blood medallion bled. It bled, Lillian. That dream, the Vision Nate had, it’s the real deal. You will die. Then he may as well be dead too. He’d be better off,” Richardo said, rocketing out of the room.

Silence descended. Maria and Will stared at them, eyes wide.

“I’d rather die than live a half life, Nathan,” Lillian said.

He gripped her upper arms hard. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Don’t I? What would Maria choose? What would Ricardo’s mate have chosen?”

She closed the distance between them, bringing the pinprick in contact with his chest. A shock ripped through them. His cock thickened, ready to complete their bond. His eyes darted around the room, searching for a cutting instrument.

They leaned against each other, holding each other up, trembling. “I feel you so much more intensely,” he said, tipping his forehead into hers.

“It’s amazing.”

“I almost killed you.”

“Stop.”

“John LeClair won’t kill you, Lillian. I will.” He held her at arm’s length. She struggled, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“I’m already dead if you don’t give yourself to me, Nate. J—joyful. K—kinky. L—love.” She threw herself into his arms, her mouth pressing into his.

He pulled in a lungful of her heady scent, eyes closing as emotion crashed over him.
M,
he said.
Maddening.