Visions of Magic (18 page)

But for her, there was only her Eternal.

Torin tipped her back onto the bed and she sprawled beneath him, hungry now, ravenous to have him in her, on her, under her. She wanted to feel every inch of his hard body. She scraped her hands up and down his back, along his butt, dragging her short nails across his skin. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, nibbling, kissing, tasting.

She arched again, parting her thighs, demanding that he take notice, that he give her what she craved.

He did. He shifted one hand to her center and thumbed her core until she was writhing and twisting beneath him. Tension radiated from her into him. She felt his sex pressing against her hip and she wanted it inside her. Wanted
him
locked deeply within her.

When he raised his head, she looked into his eyes and in those pale gray depths, she read more hunger than she'd ever seen before. She thought she might burn up from the heat of his gaze and knew she wouldn't care. As long as she could feel him sliding deep within her, she wouldn't care about anything else.

It was a fever now, a soul-deep ache that demanded to be fed.

“Now, Torin,” she ordered, turning into him, trying to straddle him so that she could feel his hard thickness inside. “Take me now, damn it.”

“Now,” he agreed and shifted, rolling her onto her back again, moving to kneel between her parted thighs. Then he paused and looked his fill of her. His hands touched her, parted her tender flesh and stroked her until she grabbed fistsful of the quilt beneath her and hung on for dear life.

“Is torture a part of mating, you bastard?” she demanded, lifting her hips into his touch, nearly whimpering for what he was denying her.

“It's the hunger,” he told her in a voice choked out of his throat. “The craving claws at you. At me. Once begun, the mating will only become more powerful. More all-consuming. We will need. Always.”

“Then take me,” she told him, rearing up off the mattress to link her arms around his neck and pull his mouth to hers for a brief, hard kiss. “Take me now and then again. But be inside me, Torin.”

“Always,” he promised and keeping his gaze locked with hers, entered her body in one long, swift stroke.

She screamed his name as his body claimed hers. She clung to his shoulders, his back, as he pulled her up to sit on his lap. She twisted, grinding her hips against him, taking him deeper, higher. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and felt flames quicken there as well.

That knot of heat inside her chest flared brightly for an instant and burned behind her left breast as she rode him. She didn't care about the brief jolt of pain. It was gone in an instant and all there was, was
him.

Their gazes locked, Shea moved on him. His hands at her waist set the rhythm for her to follow. It was fast, it was hard and it was everything.

The first stirrings of her climax tingled into life and were enveloped in a firestorm of sensation. She let her head fall back on her neck as she held on to him and continued to move, rocking, writhing, twisting, taking him as high and as deep as possible. His thickness filled her, and still it wasn't enough. She would never have enough of him. Heart. Soul. Mind. She felt the connection between them flash into life and she knew that nothing she ever did would be as important as this moment.

“Shatter for me,” he commanded.

She did, instantly. Her body rocked and she called his name as wave after wave carried her over and above anything she had ever known before.

And almost before the last ripple sighed through her system, Torin moved her, shifting her in his arms, setting her on the bed. Facedown, she braced her hands on the mattress, and knowing what he wanted, went up on her knees, lifting her hips to him.

His big hands held her in place as he stroked his thick body back and forth across her so-sensitive entrance. Shea couldn't believe it herself, but she needed him again. Now. The climax she'd experienced was barely complete and a fresh hunger was erupting within her.

She moved, pushing at him, twisting her hips despite his firm grasp on her body and when she looked back over her shoulder at him, her heart nearly stopped. In the dancing firelight, he was every inch an ancient warrior. His body was golden and hard and looked as though it had been sculpted by a generous god.

And he was hers.

He met her gaze and pushed himself into her heat. Shea gasped and moved against him, taking him even deeper and higher than she had before. He rocked against her and she felt every stroking glide of his body light up her insides like fireworks in a black sky.

Again and again, he claimed her, his body entering and retreating in a fast and furious rhythm that stole her breath and shut down her mind. Another orgasm shot through her and she cried out with the force of it. Then there was still more and he touched her center, rubbing his thumb across that one sensitive spot until she cried his name again and again, body shaking, trembling with the force of the climax claiming her.

Over the roar of her own heartbeat, she heard his hoarse shout as he finally allowed himself to follow her into oblivion.

H
ours later, when hunger for actual
food
forced them out of bed, Shea staggered to the bathroom on wobbly legs. She had never been so completely worn out in her life. And she'd certainly never felt so damn good about it.

Every muscle ached, every square inch of her body had been licked and kissed and touched and explored. Her mind was awash with fresh memories of what she and Torin had done to each other over the last few hours and just remembering had her wanting to do it all over again.

When she stared at her reflection, she hardly recognized herself. Her green eyes were glittering. Her long red hair was snarled and tangled and looked as if it had grown two inches in length. How was that possible? She laughed and told herself, “Magic.”

It bubbled inside her, the power—growing and erupting. She felt the changes happening within her and gave herself up to them. Whatever came next, she would be ready for it.

Torin came into the bathroom and stood behind her at the mirror. One of his tanned hands slid up and down the front of her body and she leaned back into him as new desire quickened. God, would she ever have enough? Would she ever reach a point where she would be able to say,
No, thanks, I have a headache?
She didn't think so. And did she want to reach that point?

No. She really didn't.

She met his gaze in the mirror and saw those gray eyes swirling with passion and secrets. His mouth, that delectable, delicious, talented mouth of his, curved a little at the corners as he watched her reflection. He lifted his left hand to cup her breast and his thumb and forefinger tweaked her nipple.

“Seriously?” she said on a half groan, “I don't know how we'll ever get anything done if you keep touching me like that.”

“It has been centuries, Shea,” he whispered. “Hundreds of long, dark years while I've waited for this time with you. For the true mating. My hunger will not be quickly eased.”

She felt his erection rubbing against her behind, thick and hard and soft all at once, and her eyes slid closed as she parted her thighs for him. Again. And again. She would always open for him. Always welcome his touch, his invasion.

“Hold on to the counter,” he told her, “and open your eyes.”

She did, unable to help herself. She stared into the wide glass and watched as he took her. He hitched her hips higher to give him entrance and she leaned over the counter to make it easier for him.

He thrust home and she gasped with the erotic sensations swimming through her. He took her quickly, fiercely, one hand at her hip to steady her, one hand at her left breast, continuing to pull and tweak her nipple. Over and over, he pushed himself into her depths only to retreat and push forward again. He took her higher, faster than he had before and Shea watched it all happen in the mirror.

His features tight, his gaze locked on hers, he moved his hand from her hip to her core and the moment he touched her, she shuddered. Her body clenched around his and the rippling of her muscles tightened over him, holding him to her, forcing him to join her in another staggering release.

When she was leaning over the counter, struggling for air, he smoothed her hair back over her shoulder, and lifted her chin so that she was staring into the mirror at him. “Look, Shea. Look at your body and mine. See what is happening.”

She did and at first, couldn't see what it was he wanted her to. Their reflections were blurred through her passion-glazed eyes, but at last she was able to focus. She looked at his hand on her breast and narrowed her gaze as his long fingers moved over a dark spot above her nipple.

“What is that?” She leaned closer to the mirror. Just over the dark pink areola of her breast, there was a bloodred mark. Elongated, with a slightly teardrop shape, it was almost like an oddly shaped birthmark, but she knew it wasn't.

“The mating brand,” Torin told her, a satisfied tone to his voice.

She shifted her gaze to his. “A brand?”

He shrugged. “A tattoo of sorts, then. Our bodies, when mated, create this mark. I have a matching one.”

Shea turned around to face him and looked at his left nipple. The same dark red mark was there as well. Her fingertip stroked the edges of it. “What is it? It looks like a teardrop.”

Shaking his head, he bent to place a kiss on the mark above her breast. “It is a flame. A single flame to mark the beginning of the mating. Over the next month, the brand will grow and expand, marking each of us as belonging to the other.”

She belonged.

Finally, at last, she knew where she belonged. She'd spent her entire life trying to fit in. Trying not to be the square peg in the round hole and it had never worked. There was always something different about her. Even before her aunt had shown her that their family carried witchcraft in their bloodlines.

She took a breath and slowly released it.

“Over the next month?”

“Yes. The mating is slow, giving witch and Eternal time to enjoy each other and the changes that happen between us.”

She stroked one finger across his warm, muscled chest and smiled when he hissed in a breath at her touch. “Changes?”

“We will gain strength from each other, Shea.” His hands moved up and down her body as if he simply couldn't touch her enough. “The brand begins it, linking our bodies and souls. As the thirty days pass, the brand will spread across our bodies and with each new flame that appears, the bond between us will be that much stronger.” He dipped his head to claim a quick, hard kiss. “When we touch, we will be able to combine our magic to increase our joined strength.”

“And when the thirty days are up?”

“My heart will beat and if Belen is pleased with me, I will gain more power.”

“What kind of power?” she asked, leaning into his hands.

“I don't know,” Torin admitted. “The mating is something of a secret even to us. None of us knows what will be until it's finished.”

“Your god didn't give you many details.”

“What god does?” he asked, one corner of his luscious mouth curving upward. “The goddess Danu,
your
goddess, was no more generous with information.”

“Danu?” Shea shook her head and tried to think. But it was so hard with his hands on her.

“The Mother goddess,” he told her with a shrug. “She who created witchcraft and chose the women to wield it.”

“There is so much I don't know,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his chest, listening to the silence where there should have been a heartbeat.

“I will share with you everything I know,” he promised. “But for now, you must know we have only until the next full moon to complete our mission. To find what was once hidden and get it to safety.”

“What is it?”

“Black silver,” he said and those two words dropped like icy stones into the room.

Shea swayed unsteadily as images raced through her mind at his words. A dark element created by witches, she thought. Black silver was imbued with power that had grown quickly and completely out of control.

“The Artifact,” she whispered, not sure where that word had come from.

“Yes,” he said, stroking his fingertips along the side of her breast. “You remember?”

She shook her head, frowning as her mind turned away from the memory. “No. Not really. It's just that when you said ‘black silver,' I got a flash of something—but it was gone too soon for me to grab it.”

“You will,” he said. “You must.”

“Right.” She nodded and looked down to where his fingers stroked lazily over her newly born tattoo. “You said there were others, like me. Awakening witches. Will we all have this tattoo?”

“Yes,” he said, bending now to flick his tongue across the tip of her nipple. “And each branding will be unique to that witch and her Eternal. Each of you will be marked according to your karma.”

“And what about you?” she asked, struggling to hold on to her thoughts despite the fact that Torin had taken her nipple into his mouth. “What do the Eternals get from this, besides a matching tattoo?”

He stopped what he was doing, pulled his head back and blew a gentle stream of air at her breast. The dampness from his tongue, followed by his soft breath, caused a shiver of chill delight on her skin. “We become one with the other halves of our souls. We stop merely
existing
and begin to
live.”

His tongue stroked the tip of her nipple and Shea sighed. So much had changed in her life so fast that it was almost impossible for her to imagine that it
was
her life anymore. She looked down at his mouth on her breast and sighed again as another tiny red flame erupted from inside to appear just beside the first of the branding.