Deliberately, he knelt beside her, lightly resting his hand on her ankle, then sliding it up to her shin, curving around to brush over her calf, then repeating the action on her other leg before moving up to her knee. “I’m going to touch every inch of you, claim every part of you. My blood is part of you and that makes you my woman. Mine and no one else’s.”
His words made her heart beat faster, he could hear it, see it in the pulse at the base of her neck. The scent of her desire caused his own heart to race, his body to harden. She belonged to him and the primitive need to claim her overtook his senses.
Eyes half-closed, she relaxed into his touch, as he skimmed his hands and then his lips over her thighs, her hips, the curve of her belly, the ridges of her ribs. By the time he reached her breasts she was quivering, soft sounds of need escaping her lips. She was hot, aching with need. When she placed her hands on his back urging him to move up so she could kiss him, he resisted, paying homage to each breast, her collarbone, the dip at the base of her throat. Not an inch of her was left untouched.
Finally, he cupped her head, his fingers threaded through her hair, his mouth hovering over hers, his eyes looking into hers. “Mine.”
That one word, spoken in a deep rumbling voice was enough to cause her to melt. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down so his weight rested on her and kissed him with everything she had. Nothing was held back.
And when he finally pulled away and knelt over her, her hands reached eagerly for him, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it from his shoulders. She skimmed over his hair-roughened chest, his defined abs. Her man. Hers.
In anticipation, she watched him slowly undo his waistband. The metallic sound of his zipper being undone broke the quiet of the room. Then he parted the material, freeing his hardened flesh.
Her body clenched at the sight, memories of the feel of him as he moved inside her almost enough to send her over the edge. She sat up and touched him intimately, the feel of his hot flesh in her palm sending frissons of excitement through her. He groaned as her fingers gently played over him, teasing and stroking as she mimicked the act they’d soon begin.
She pushed him onto his back and removed the rest of his clothing. Like some god of old, he lay before her, perfectly formed, powerful, controlled. With lips and hands, she paid homage to him, claiming each inch of him as he’d done to her, breathing in his scent, absorbing the taste that was uniquely him.
When he rolled both of them over, she opened to him, inviting his possession, revelling in the feel of his heat pressing into her, filling her deeper with each stroke until she was gasping, sure she could handle no more yet never wanting the feeling to end.
Filled. Possessed. Claimed. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, hanging on tight as the ride to ecstasy began. It was wild, primitive; urgent yet tender. Sweat slicked their bodies, their hearts were pounding. Panting, they strained to reach that perfect moment. It was close, growing nearer, a glowing quivering explosion of feeling just beyond reach.
Stone nuzzled her neck, his mouth hot and wet against her skin. “I love you, Christina. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” She gasped the words, holding him tight and then a pinprick seemed to pierce her skin followed by a warm gushing feeling that spread through her body to her arms, her legs, even the tips of her fingers and toes.
She felt herself begin to quiver uncontrollably, her muscles clenching, all thought rushing from her mind except the glorious sensations that grew and grew inside her. A feeling that increased exponentially, sending her hurdling forward completely out of control until all that existed, all that kept her from completely disintegrating was the man she held tightly in her arms. And then he, too, seemed to become a ball of nebulous energy, shimmering, shaking, hovering on the edge of some glorious place until with a shout he exploded and took her with him spiralling into oblivion.
Sated, fulfilled, they lay in a tangle of arms and legs. She stroked his back, loving the feel of him pressing down on her. Had they created a child this night? Did he even want children? Something else they needed to talk about. Would they return to Cantala one day to check on Sister Bernita? Or perhaps travel to some distant land to help free...
The phone rang. She sighed, her pleasant daydreams ruined. “Are you going to answer that?”
“No.” Stone rolled off her.
The phone continued to ring.
“It might be important.” She ran her hand over his chest, loving the texture of his light body hair.
“It might not.” Stone sat up even as he spoke. He fumbled for his pants, found the phone in his pocket and checked the caller ID and swore. “Reno, you’d better have a damned good reason for calling right now because if you don’t—” He was silent for a moment, listening intently, nodding occasionally. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
He ended the call, then sat staring at the phone for a moment before setting it down and flopping back on the pillows. “That was Reno.”
“So I heard.”
He rolled his head to the side to look at her. “They’ve found her. Found Adisa.”
“The woman you told me about? From that last mission?”
“Yeah.” His voice cracked. “She’s alive. She...um...” He cleared his throat. “She made her way out of the occupied territory, travelled with a group of nomads.”
“That’s fantastic news.”
“Yeah, it really is.” He drew her close, wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll love her when you meet her.”
“Umm...how old is she, do you think?”
“Adisa? Maybe sixty-five.”
Tina smiled. “Sixty-five is good.”
“Were you jealous?”
“A bit.”
“There’s no need. You and me, we’re linked forever.” Stone pressed a kiss to the top of her head then ran a finger over his already-healing bite mark on her neck.
“Forever?”
“Yep. Definitely forever.”
She rolled over in his arms so she could see his face and placed a hand on his chest. “A man of stone.”
“And a psychedelic witch.” He pulled a lock of her hair.
“We’re going to make a great team, aren’t we?”
“The baddies won’t know what hit them.”
“Baddies?” She giggled at his use of her term.
“See? We’re linked. You’re already rubbing off on me.”
Tina glanced up at his head. “Does that mean we can change the colour of your hair?”
“Christina!” He growled and pinned her to the bed, his eyes twinkling with laughter.
Memories of an earlier vision stirred within her. She’d seen herself climbing a mountain; steep, rocky, impenetrable, frozen. Wind had lashed her hair, tugged at her clothing almost knocking her off her feet. At the time she’d wondered if she’d survive or not.
Now she knew the answer. The ice had melted, the mountain had been conquered. She was at the summit and the whole world stretched out before her.
Lovingly, she traced the features of the smiling man above her. Stone by name but no longer by nature.
Her lover.
Her heart.
Her home.
Epilogue
Midnight had struck and then one o’clock. Club Mystique was quiet, the doors were now locked. Gwyneth sat in bed, hugging her knees and staring pensively out the window.
Blood spells.
That’s what Christina had accidentally become involved in. Dark magic, but not always evil as many erroneously believed. It was all in the intent of the user. Evil begot evil. Good begot good. The Lycan, Stone, had love in his heart when he’d spilled his blood, even if the man was too thick between the ears to realize that fact. Spells made with love were the strongest of all, the most difficult to break. Tina would be well cared for.
Gwyneth gave a satisfied nod and turned her thoughts to other matters. It was an anniversary of sorts for her, not that anyone knew but herself. Tho
se that might have known, or cared, were long since dead.
Sherman, her cat, jumped onto the bed and made his way to her side. After head-butting her as a means of greeting, he curled up against her, the soft rumble of his purr comforting in the silence of the empty apartment.
An empty apartment.
An empty building.
An empty heart?
That was what she’d signed on for so she had no reason to feel melancholy. It had gotten her where she was today. Successful, magically powerful, a respected member of the Universal Coven. If she felt anything was missing in her life it was likely Tina’s fault. The witchling and her Lycan had fallen in love and remnants of the newly birthed emotion still contaminated the building.
“In the morning, I’ll do a cleansing. That should restore my equilibrium and banish any treacly sweet feelings that might be lingering in the air.” Her voice broke the silence of the room, echoing off the unadorned walls.
Sherman chose that moment to issue a loud ‘meow’ and gave her a reproachful glance.
“Be quiet,” she chided. “You’re only here to deal with the mice, remember?”
Sherman twitched his ears and settled at her side again, likely realizing he’d yet to justify his presence by producing a dead rodent. Keeping a low profile and not irritating her was in his best interest.
She sighed and turned out the light casting the room into darkness. The dim light of the moon shone through the window creating shadows on the walls. Her mind took a flight of fancy, conjuring up images from the past in the nebulous shapes. Gwyneth settled back on her pillow and idly traced the small scar on her chest.
A blood spell by the light of a blood moon, that’s how it had all started...
~FIN~
A Message from Nicky Charles
Hello readers!
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review at your favourite retailer.
One of the topics touched upon in this book, organ donations, is much more serious than a mere paranormal novel can begin to convey. When a missionary spoke at my church about organ trafficking, a collective gasp went out. This atrocity must be stopped. One of the easiest ways is to provide legitimate sources, i.e., donations after natural death.
The need for transplants is always urgent and I strongly encourage everyone to consider signing a donor card or letting family and friends know their wishes with regard to this. A final act of generosity as you move onto the next plain of existence can save a life and be a lasting legacy.
This story is the seventh story in my Lycan series. I have ideas for several more instalments, providing my muse cooperates. Jan Gordon (Black Silk, Life in the Shadows) and I have been collaborating on a novella that should be making its appearance around Christmas. Daniel and Tessa’s story still needs to be sorted out. Armand is pining away and now Gwyneth is beginning to poke and prod my muse! There are also several new characters dancing about in my head, all clamouring to be brought to light. Some are Lycan tales and others will be featured in standalone stories. If all goes as planned, I will be busy writing for the next several years!
-Nicky
The Law of the Lycans Series
The Mating
The Keeping
The Finding
Bonded
Betrayed: Days of the Rogue
Betrayed – Book Two: The Road to Redemption
For the Good of All
Connect with Me
Email:
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[email protected] At my website: http://www.nickycharles.com
On my blog: http://lycanlaws.blogspot.ca
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Nicky Charles, For the Good of All
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