"All right. Enough," William said.
"I'm sorry." Hurting him wasn't her intention. "Go to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day. We enter the maze, face monsters and puzzles and whatever else Sin has cooked up."
"And we officially begin your divorce proceedings."
She almost protested. Almost.
I won't keep you, lass.
"Yes," she said, her tone hollow. "We do."
*
Puck stalked the camp's perimeter, the snippet of conversation he'd overhead between Gillian and William ringing in his ears, drowning out Indifference. Life is a revelation to him. I'm a revelation. He lights up when he experiences new things with me. Though he is possessed by Indifference, he cares for his people. He wants the best for them.
Then she'd agreed about beginning divorce proceedings.
I pine for her, and she secretly wants to be rid of me? Despite the things she likes about me.
Or she tries to protect herself, as I have?
Whatever her reason, she'd refused to answer his question about her feelings, which was an answer in itself. While they were together, she would use him for pleasure, nothing more.
As he stalked around the pond, Puck hoped against hope some predator would spring from the shadows and attack. A fight to the death might improve his mood.
Strange noises seeped from the maze--howls, moans, groans, screeches and screams. Each served as a warning: stay out, or die. Evil created a dark curtain over the maze's entrance, allowing only the barest glimpse into what appeared to be a tropical forest. Evil born from Sin, considering his younger brother had conjured every tree and trap.
Had Sin known Puck would come for him at some point, despite the demon? Probably. Sin was many things, but foolish wasn't one of them.
Tomorrow morning, nothing would stop Puck from entering the maze. The sooner he defeated Sin, the sooner he would be rid of William...and Gillian. Puck needed to be rid of her. Before he did something reckless, like abandon his people and realm for her, a woman who would abandon him when all was said and done.
Damn her! How had she put him in this state with a single conversation? And why would she choose Puck over William after the divorce, anyway? Why give up affection, fun and familiarity?
Why did Puck even want to keep her, despite the obstacles? The woman twisted him up inside and out, and set him on edge.
She also turned him on, leaving him fevered. Fever meant sickness. Sickness meant he needed a cure.
He slammed his fist into the trunk of a tree, bark cutting his skin, the force fracturing his knuckles. Pain shot through his entire arm, but offered no relief from the pressure and strain inside him.
Thunder rumbled, rattling the trees. The third time in the last five minutes. The storm grew closer.
William had created some sort of magical cap over the campsite, but Puck had ventured outside the enclosure. Would rather be plugged with ice daggers than accept any more help from that man. Besides, the thick canopy of leaves overhead should keep him safe.
"Not exactly apathetic now, huh?"
He swung around, a dagger raised in reflex. As Gillian stepped into a stray beam of moonlight, a vision from his deepest fantasies, he sheathed the weapon with a trembling hand.
"Go to sleep," he said, his voice hoarse, his chest constricting and burning, as if he'd been scraped raw inside. "You need rest." I need peace. "You don't want to be around me right now. I'm neither affectionate nor fun."
"I'm sensing a theme," she said, staying put. "Are you able to feel emotion if you don't summon ice, without suffering some kind of punishment? Or does the demon snuff out everything?"
He turned his back on her. One more glance, and he would lose control. He would take her, obstacles and consequences be damned.
"Answer me," she demanded. "I'm not leaving until you do."
"The answer doesn't matter."
"It matters to me. You matter. So tell me true. Can you feel for extended periods if you allow yourself? Or were you pretending the times I thought you'd warmed?"
"Yes, I can feel for extended periods," he snapped in a quiet voice. More thunder. Louder, closer. The pitter-patter of rain sounded next, followed by the whoosh of falling ice daggers. A cool breeze blew in, damp with dew.
"What happens when you do? I know Indifference doesn't weaken you anymore. Does he punish you in other ways? You said you needed to protect yourself. Protect yourself from what?"
He needed her to go now. If she needed answers in order to leave, he would give her answers. "Yes, I'm punished, but not in the sense you think. I'm punished because I'm distracted. Because I forget what's important and endanger my goals. Because I hurt in ways I hadn't known were possible."
She flinched, as if he'd struck her. "What if I won't let you forget your goals? Would you be with me while we can? You said you would, and you never lie to me."
He wanted this. He wanted this so badly. Still he resisted.
"Without me, will Indifference regain power over you?" she asked.
He offered a single, curt nod. "For a time. But once we're parted, I'll rid myself of the demon the same way I rid myself of you." And he would pray the fiend took his emotions. All of this feeling... Puck loathed it more than ever and craved his icy, emotionless existence.
Again she flinched, but he refused to harbor any kind of guilt.
"Why are you here, asking these questions, Gillian?"
"I'm trying to understand how you can burn me up one minute but freeze me out the next."
"Well, wonder no more. I want to keep you but can't, so I war with the things you make me feel. They are my enemy, and I fight my enemies with every ounce of my strength," he snarled, and something inside him snapped. He spun, facing her, his chest expanding with raging desire and fury.
She took a step back, which only incited him further.
Blood rushed into each of his muscles, causing them to bulge. "Nothing more to say?" he chided.
She raised her chin. "You're clearly not done."
No, he wasn't. "To be with you, I must condemn my realm to destruction and my people to pain. But what kind of man abandons his people? On the other hand, what kind of man abandons his wife? A wife he craves with every fiber of his being. A wife who will not want him back once she's set free."
Her eyes smoldered. "I want you while we're together. Why isn't that enough?"
"Because--just because!"
"Stop thinking about tomorrow. What do you want right now, in this moment?"
In this moment? Her. He couldn't see past the want, couldn't think past the need. The two pulsed in his temples, his throat, and squeezed at his chest, vibrated throughout the rest of his body.
He wanted her--and he would have her. Right now. Walk around the sword? No longer. Some wounds you bore, because anything less was worse.
"If you want me while we're together, you'll have me," he vowed, "but you'll also have the fallout. I can barely deal with my emotions now. What do you think I'll feel after this?"
"I'll deal," she said, raising her chin another notch.
Then how could he do any less? "So be it."
Puck stalked toward his wife--his prey. As his long legs ate up the distance, tension lived and breathed inside him. Good thing. Because he couldn't breathe at all. But then, he didn't need to--soon, Gillian would do it for him.
When he reached her, he wrapped his arm around her waist, lifted her off her feet and kept walking until he pressed her back against a tree. Their bodies smashed together, chest to breasts, erection to cradle, as he lowered his head and took possession of her mouth.
His tongue tangled with hers in a mad frenzy. He poured himself into the kiss, feeding her every drop of his ferocity, nothing held back. He was too aggressive, and he knew it, but there was no slowing down. He'd been pushed too far, control beyond him.
And maybe she liked it. She combed her fingers through his hair and made a fist at his nape. Her other hand migrated to his chest--
"Not the bird," he grated.
Without a word of complaint, she moved her hand to his shoulder and sank her nails in deep. Both actions were a silent demand: Puck was not to walk away from her. As if he could.
"Off." He stopped kissing her only long enough to lift her arms and then her pretty dress over her head, freeing her breasts from confinement. Such perfect little handfuls, with dusky rose tips. His new favorite sight in all the realms.
The moment his mouth resealed over hers, her hands returned to his nape and shoulder. Puck's hands worshipped those luscious mounds, luxuriating in the pearl-hard nipples.
"Touch me," he rasped into her mouth.
"Yes, yes." The hand on his shoulder slid down his chest, delved under the waistband of his pants. Silken fingers wrapped around his length, stoking his need higher and higher.
Puck's roar blended with the next crack of thunder and the increasingly riotous patter of rain.
"You're so big," she said between panting breaths.
"More," he commanded. "Stroke more."
As his good, good lass stroked him up, down, up, he grew more frantic and set into her mouth with renewed vigor. Thrusting his tongue. Sucking on hers. Exacting a response. Nipping her lower lip before running the plump flesh between his teeth.
Only when she writhed against him did he tunnel a hand between her legs, rip away her panties and slam two fingers inside her.
Her scream of pleasure...music to his ears. Her head fell back as she arched her hips, allowing him to drive his fingers deeper.
"So wet, lass. So hot. You like having a part of me inside you."
"Yes! I do, I do, I do. More!"
He thrust in a third, and her inner walls clamped down, gloving him as she came and came and came.
"Don't stop," she gasped out, her grip on his rigid length contracting. "Please, don't stop."
Not this time. "Would rather die." He took another nip at her lip before he pried her hand from his shaft. Sheer torture! Without the pressure she provided, pleasure-pain morphed into pain-pain.
Going to be worth it. Puck dropped to his knees.
Fingers continuing to glide in and out of her slick heat, he positioned his mouth between her legs...and licked. The sweetest honey on his tongue. He tasted her, he realized with awe. He hadn't tasted anything for thousands of years, but he tasted her, and he couldn't get enough.
The little mewling sounds she made--heaven! Pressure built in his shaft. So good, but so much worse. He desperately needed to come. Could he?
"This is...this... Puck!" With her fingers wrapped around his horns, steering him, she rolled her hips forward.
This was worth anything.
He pressed and rubbed and flicked his tongue against her little bundle of nerves, until her inner walls clamped down on his fingers, and Gillian unleashed another broken scream.
The newest climax turned her honey into wine, intoxicating him.
He stayed down there, licking at her, nuzzling, until she quieted...until her very last shudder waned. As he rose, their eyes met, and the inferno he saw in those whiskey-rich depths sent his butterfly tattoo moving over his chest.
Indifference hushed and hid, as if he couldn't handle the deluge of emotion.
Good boy. Puck wrapped an arm around Gillian's waist and yanked her closer. Pivoting, he dropped to his knees and spread her open on a bed of moss and wildflowers.
"Puck...my Puck."
Hers, always.
No, no. Now. Only now. As her legs parted, welcoming him, he tore at the waist of his pants to free his throbbing shaft. He wouldn't penetrate her tonight, would only teach her to handle his length. And he would come. He would. So close already.
They would have more nights like this, for he had a new goal: give her all the pleasure she had been missing.
As he lowered his body onto hers, Gillian slapped her foot against his chest to stop him. Though he wanted to snap and snarl in response--nothing keeps me from what's mine--he merely arched a brow in question.
She didn't notice, her hungry gaze remaining glued to his length. "Birth control?"
"No need." He stroked himself once, twice, before clasping her ankle to place a kiss on her calf.
"No need?"
He leaned down, hovering over her, and rasped, "Get your hand wet, lass."
A furrow of confusion between her eyes. Once again, she parroted him. "Wet?"
"Wet," he confirmed.
*
Only seconds ago, Gillian believed her body had been wrung out and incapable of experiencing another orgasm. The moment Puck had opened his pants, he'd taught her better. Pleasure had nearly burned her alive.
Pleasure still burned her.
Puck guided her hands between her legs and urged two of her fingers inside her core, along with one of his. For centuries, her own touch had brought her nothing but frustration and anger. Here, now, with Puck, the single stroke nearly sent her careening into another climax.
Moaning, arching her back, she opened her legs wider. Offering more. Offering everything.
"Now wrap your fingers around my shaft," he commanded.
Eager, she obeyed. Oh. Oh! The essence of her arousal provided an easy glide, allowing her to clasp him tighter. He rocked into her first stroke, then her second, his big body heaving over hers.
His expression...
Had any male ever been so beautiful? Caught up in the throes--because of me!--his eyes were closed and his lips parted. His skin was flushed and dewy with sweat.
"The things you make me feel," he said, now peering down at her. His inhalations sharpened and shallowed. The sounds he made...so carnal, so sexy. "Want this never to end. But need you to squeeze tighter, lass."
Once again, she obeyed. "Get inside me, Puck. Please." She needed him to. What had he meant, no need for birth control? Could he not get her pregnant? Perhaps he planned to use magic? Or did he not want to enter her because he feared she had some kind of disease? "I was tested after...just after. Haven't been with anyone since. I'm clean, I swear."
He stopped, just stopped, and she suspected the action--non-action--had to be killing him. Had the situation been reversed, she wouldn't have found the strength to pause. With his gaze steady on hers, he traced two fingertips along her jawline. A tender caress. A bead of sweat splashed onto her. No, not sweat. Cool raindrops were fighting their way through the treetops. Several caught in Puck's spiky black lashes.
"Never wanted anything more than I want you, inside of you," he intoned, "but I'm not going to take you. Not tonight."
She swallowed a wealth of disappointment. "Because the others are so close?"
"Because we're going to experience everything." He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, teasing her with his tongue, then lifted to his knees.
Going to leave her? No! "This is mine," she said, scrambling up to reclaim her grip on his shaft. As she stroked him harder, faster, his hips bucked. "I want your pleasure. Give it to me."
All the things she'd wanted to do with a man, Puck was giving her in a single night. He'd kinda sorta had her for dinner. What they were doing now, an erotic dance and a true gift exchange. He'd made her come; now she would do the same for him.
"Yes. Yours, all yours." He tangled a hand in her hair and cupped her ass with the other, yanking her closer, slanting his lips over hers and kissing the air from her lungs.
Then...oh! He used the hand on her ass to reach around and glide the tip of his fingers against the throbbing heart of her. Gillian began rocking back and forth, chasing those fingers while stroking Puck's massive erection. Soon, they were writhing against each other, mimicking the motions of sex.
Still chasing. Still stroking. Desperate.
"How are you...how can I..." She cried out as pleasure exploded inside her once more. Stronger than before, earth-crumbling--life-changing. For one blissful moment in time, absolute contentment filled her. She had everything she'd ever wanted, everything she would ever need.
"Lass. My la
ss. You're doing it. You're making me--I'm coming!" His head fell back and he roared up at the trees as his hips jerked again and again and hot seed spilled over her hand.
Once they calmed, they washed in the pond. He shed his pants along the way, presenting her with his naked form. So beautiful. So perfect. When they finished, they returned to their spot in the flowers, where Gillian cuddled up against him, and rested her head on his shoulder. The tension had drained from him, from them both.
"Puck?" she asked.
"Aye."
"That was fun." And amazing and wonderful.
"Aye," he repeated.
"Don't freeze me out," she whispered. "Not tonight."
He pressed another soft kiss into her temple. "Not tonight," he agreed.
28
Gillian spent the night snuggled into Puck's side, his heat and scent wrapped around her, just like his arms. His soft legs acted as the warmest blanket of all time.
What they'd done...better than her fantasies. And he hadn't even penetrated her!
How would he treat her tomorrow? Would the Ice Man return?
What would she do if ever the Ice Man returned for good?
She dozed lightly, on and off, too afraid to fall into a deep sleep. She doubted Puck slept at all. He remained tense and on alert, ready to slay anyone who neared their oasis.
Just before the suns rose, his body went lax. Gillian extracted herself from his embrace, pulled on her dress. A quick glance at her husband--anything more, and she might not be able to walk away. He maneuvered to his side, his eyes closed, his expression soft, almost boyish. Almost, because with his muscle mass, he could never pass for anything other than all man.
Regret pursued her relentlessly as she snuck back into camp, fed and watered Peanut, then slid into her sleeping bag.
"Everything you'd hoped and more?" William asked. For the first time, he sounded possessed by Indifference, his voice devoid of emotion.
She heaved a full-body sigh and offered the truth, whole truth and nothing but the truth. "Yes." And she would not feel guilty. "I like him, Liam."
"I told you. The bond likes him. You don't know him."
He'd blamed the bond before. So had she. So had Puck. Didn't change how she felt.
Wasn't long before the suns appeared overhead, and Puck strode into camp, backlit by bright golden beams. Her heart fluttered, and her belly clenched as she remembered the things they'd done...the things she still wanted to do. He'd promised her everything.