"Yes," she said.
"Then I'll see that it's done. He'll be waiting for you at the fortress in Budapest."
It was difficult, but she did it--she said the words Thank you.
He inclined his head. "You will spend the next two days in this palace. As my honored guest, of course. I will see to your every need, ensure you are utterly protected, as we wait for the All-seeing Eye to open the portal for you."
Seeing no other option, she said, "Torin will stay, too."
Hades worked his jaw with irritation. "There's no need. I can return him now."
"Torin will stay," she insisted. "We'll be bunking together."
"There are more than enough--"
"We'll be in the same room or we'll leave," Torin said. "I don't care what we have to face out there."
Hades did not look away from Keeley as he nodded stiffly.
She smiled at him. "You may show us to our accommodations."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
THROUGHOUT THE PALACE minions were doing things that made Torin want to scrub his corneas with bleach. Also there were countless red, beady gazes lingering on his fly as if he'd hidden a snack pack beneath it.
Hades opened a door and waved them inside a spacious chamber. "All yours. Shout my name if you need anything, and I will appear." He spoke to Keeley and only to Keeley. But his menacing glare to Torin spoke volumes. "Shout his name and I'm not sure how I'll react."
Torin shut the door in his face.
Keeley hurried throughout the room, plugging peepholes and covering what had to be two-way mirrors.
"I know this is going to sound moronic coming from me," he said, "but I kind of feel like I'm food for every STD in the underworld." The place had probably seen more action than Paris's pants.
Keeley said nothing, just walked to him with steely determination and claimed one of his swords. She cleaned it in the en suite bathroom, then removed her shirt and revealed her freshly branded back.
Fury detonated within him.
"Cut them off me," she demanded.
First instinct: refusal. No way he'd hurt her.
But the scars were the equivalent of chains, leaving her vulnerable. And he knew how much she despised vulnerability. Someone had to do this and he'd be damned if he allowed anyone else to touch her.
"Lie on the bed," he instructed.
She obeyed without hesitation.
Such lovely curves. Skin like satin. Elegant spine.
He gave his temple a hard punch, punch. This wasn't sexy playtime.
Disease was strangely silent. Happy to be home?
"I'm sorry," Torin whispered and got to work.
Never once did she cry out, but that wasn't the blessing it should have been. It wasn't because her pain threshold was high. It was. Or that this barely registered. It did. It was because she'd had to do this before. For years. Decades. Centuries. That's how long she'd lived with so much pain--all alone. She knew what to expect and had steeled herself against it.
After all she'd endured, all she'd suffered, she'd still chosen Torin to be a part of her future.
I'm not worthy.
But he would be. He would make himself. He loved her with all of his heart, all that he was--every fiber of his being. He would be whatever she needed. Give her whatever she wanted.
He was trembling as he finished cutting out the ward. As carefully as possible he soaked the gaping wound in water, then bandaged it using strips of her shirt, the only thing currently available. He wished there were a potted plant or--
Head slap! She wasn't only bonded to the earth. She was also bonded to Torin.
Although, despite their bond, she had still sickened every time he touched her. But she hadn't reacted negatively to his semen when he'd come on her belly. That had to mean something. Maybe she wouldn't react negatively to his blood, either. Might actually react positively.
Could he base his actions on "might"?
Her blood trickled from the sides of the bandage.
Yes. Yes, he could.
He turned the sword on himself.
"What are you doing?" she asked weakly.
Hissing, he pressed the blade underneath the layers of his brimstone scars and sliced. He'd promised her he would remove them, and there was no better time. The bloody flesh plopped to the ground, reminding him of a piece of shaved ham. He peeled away Keeley's bandage and held his arm over her wound, letting droplets of crimson splash inside. After the entire area had been saturated, he returned the bandage and applied pressure--finally, blessedly, she passed out.
"Torin," she gasped a few hours later, pushing upright on her hands.
"I'm here, princess. I'm here." He tenderly brushed her cheek with a gloved hand. He hadn't left her side. "How are you feeling?"
"Better. You?"
"Fine, just fine. Lie flat again so I can check your wound."
She obeyed, and he gently peeled away the bandage. To his amazement, she was almost healed. Muscle and skin had already woven back together, leaving thin pink lines that would soon fade.
His blood had helped her without making her sick.
Or had the removal of the brimstone scars done the trick?
Hades's taunt teased the back of his mind. Had the answer all along. Too wrapped in fear to realize it.
The scar had weakened her. Might have weakened her immune system. Could Torin finally touch her without consequences?
Did he dare hope it was that simple? That easy?
There was only one way to find out....
"Thank you," she said, sitting up. "For everything." The sheet fell, revealing plump breasts and rosy nipples.
A blast of blistering desire, swift and sharp, overtook him. He gripped the coverlet to stop himself from reaching for her.
Soon...
"No," he said. "Thank you."
*
TWO DAYS LATER, just as planned, Danika opened a portal in the middle of the bedroom they shared.
Keeley, healed from her wounds, passed through beside Torin, the Cloak of Invisibility covering them both.
Something had changed. Torin's steps were lighter, his smiles coming quicker, more often. She loved it, but because he wouldn't discuss its source, she didn't trust it. No, trust wasn't the right word. She didn't know if it would last.
He removed the Cloak, allowing others to see them.
"Free Dani," Reyes said the moment he spotted Keeley.
She bounded over and opened the cage. Reyes scooped the weak, mussed blonde into his arms and carried her out of the room.
Torin was fast on the warrior's heels, dragging Keeley with him. There were a few people hanging out in the hallway, and they tried to get his attention.
"Dude. Baden's with Strider and they're playing Call of Duty. Did you know Baden was such a sore loser?"
"All we lack is that cursed box and that kid Anya wants to find. Can you believe it?"
Torin offered no reply. He hurried Keeley to their room, and in his haste slammed the door. But his expression was soft, tender.
"Finally." He kept her hand intertwined with his. "There's a chance I can touch you freely now. A chance I could be wrong. But my blood helped heal your wounds, didn't sicken you, and I've removed the brimstone scars, which were weakening you. I should have realized...didn't think. But if you're willing to risk it..."
He was asking to be with her...fully? Nothing held back? No clothes between them?
As if she needed to think about it. She cupped his cheek. He leaned into her touch, savoring the feel and heat of her. "I want you, Torin. All of you."
Relief shimmered over his features as he kissed her palm. "Strip, lie on your back and close your eyes."
*
WITHOUT HER BABY blues watching him, breaking him slowly, Torin expected a release from the tension building inside him, even in the minutest degree. He didn't get it. Being near her was like being plugged into an outlet. Power flowed and awareness sizzled. That was never going to change.
> "I'm going to touch you the way I've always dreamed." Nothing held back.
"Mmm. Yes."
He discarded his gloves. She offered such a lovely canvas, her female form draped across his bed, he wished he could start everywhere at once. Jaw clenched as he steeled himself against the rapture, he brushed his fingertips over her forehead, down her nose. The warmth of her breath caressed his skin. It was intimate, erotic. A miracle of sensation, connection. He traced the plumpness of her lips, luxuriating in her softness. Her chin, her collar, her shoulders. Dooown her arms and the web between her fingers. Goose bumps appeared on her flesh and he relished the feel of them.
She reached for him, hoping to touch him in turn. He took her by the wrists and lifted her arms above her head. "Grip the headboard." If she put her hands on him, he would lose focus.
He waited until she'd complied, then traced each of her sensitive joints. There were many, and he adored them all. Adored every inch of her. With his hands...with his mouth. She seemed to dissolve in his mouth like cotton candy, and infuse with every one of his cells.
"Torin."
He cupped her breasts, watched as her nipples pearled. Such sweet little jewels. His mouth watered for them, but he ran a single fingertip down the center of her stomach and circled her navel. Her belly quivered, her breath coming in shallow pants. She hadn't removed her panties, and he traced his fingers along the damp center. Her back arched as she moaned.
Merciless, he teased her, outlining the edges of the material. Her hips rolled, trying to force him where she needed him most. But he always remained a whisper away, and "damp" soon became "soaked." He rewarded her by shifting the panties out of the way and plunging a finger deep, feeling not only her tightness and warmth, but her readiness for him, too.
She cried out, then cried out again as he pulled out.
Her eyelids flicked open, glowing with wild, reckless need. "Torin."
He let her watch as he sucked the moist finger into his mouth. Let her witness his enjoyment as he sampled her taste.
The roll of her hips became frenzied. "Don't be selfish. Give me a taste of your lips."
"Until I've finished touching all of you, I'll be as selfish as I please...and you'll like it." He traced the length of her legs, slowly, leisurely, up, then down, stopping to play at her knees and then her ankles before tapping the end of each of her toes. Her body was a treasure map, and every spot should have been marked with an X. No matter where he ventured, his every nerve ending reacted, catching fire.
"Torin." Her breathlessness thrilled him to his soul. "Please."
He tore off his shirt, and she purred her approval. He surged up, pressing his mouth into hers. Her tongue met his with a hard thrust, and it was fuel to an already-raging inferno. He kneaded her beautiful breasts, not even trying to temper his strength. But then, he knew how much she reveled in his fierceness.
Her teeth bit into his tongue, his lip. He pinched her nipple, hard, and she screamed, "Yes, oh, yes, yes!" while writhing against him, her softness providing the perfect cradle for his hardness.
He hissed in a breath, thinking this had to be the sweetest agony he'd ever known. The scent of her arousal permeated his senses, made his mouth water all over again.
"I've touched you and kissed you, you're right about that," he said. "But next I will taste you the way I've dreamed."
A ragged purr. "Not sure I'll survive."
"Try." He chuckled with dark promise and licked his way down...down her curves. Starting with her breasts, sucking on those gorgeous nipples, stopping at her navel to play. "Keep your hands over your head," he commanded. "I mean it. Don't let go."
"Wouldn't dare." A tremor rocked her. Such a heady sight. "What my warrior wants, he gets."
He spread her legs, until her knees rested against the mattress--completely defenseless to my every whim. Or rather, he was completely defenseless to hers. Her panties were utterly drenched.
With a satisfied grunt, he ripped the material off her and bared her--bared perfection. Made for me. He took a good, long lick, his eyes closing as he savored the sweetness and heat.
A ragged plea for more escaped her. He obliged, could deny her nothing, even as his own desire raged. Another long lick before he tunneled his way inside, mimicking with his fingers what he would soon do with his shaft. When she was undulating wildly, muttering incoherently, her honey a drug he couldn't resist, he sucked on the tender bud of her arousal.
Her scream of satisfaction echoed off the walls.
Pain hadn't managed to draw that sound out of her, but pleasure had. He was smiling as he sucked harder. Her fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on.
"Demanding little princess." He loved it. But he still forced himself to stop.
She moaned, tried to push his head back down. "Torin! You're not done!"
"Hands." One word. One command. But she understood, and she obeyed. And the moment she was once again gripping the headboard, he set back to work, licking and sucking, even biting.
"It's good. So good."
Her thighs squeezed his temples, the pressure a testament to her mounting desire. But he knew what she was doing. Trying yet again to gain control. But he knew his girl and knew she didn't want control, not really, not here, so he forced her legs to part again, keeping her wide open. She trembled with vibrant desire and begged him to do more, to take her further, deeper, and he did...deeper into a realm where sensation prevailed.
He fed her dripping core a finger, and she climaxed, clamping down around it, screaming his name again and again. He inserted another finger, pushing in deep, drawing out the orgasm, making it last. Licking her, sucking her, still moving in and out of her...until she sagged against the mattress, panting.
He withdrew from her and sat up, watching her for several seconds, drinking in the sight of her satisfaction. His woman, satisfied. It was a heady thought and only increased his need for completion.
It was time.
"Unfasten my pants."
Eager, she sat up. Her hair was a tangled mess, her skin flushed a dusky rose. His chest constricted. Mine, all mine.
With trembling fingers Keeley freed his throbbing erection. And as she did so, she watched him lick her honey from his fingers once again.
"I could live on you, princess."
"Could you?" She took his hand, pulled his fingers from his mouth--and sucked them into her own. "I could live on us."
The pressure, hot and wet, made him shudder with delicious need. Need her. Have to have her.
She protested when he pulled away from her. But still he did it, standing beside the bed, shucking his boots and kicking off his pants. He took a condom from the pocket and sheathed himself. Though he wanted to take her bare, to feel her that way, a child would never be an option. His motions were harried--if he wasn't inside her within the next few seconds, he might as well curl up and die.
At last free to touch him however she wished, she ran her hands over his shoulders, his chest...down his stomach. The glory of it was almost too much, as he'd known it would be. Too much, but also perfect. Another dream come true.
"All this strength," she praised.
"You like?" He curled his hand around his thick length and pumped once, twice through the latex, then tugged on his sac. In the past, he'd always been dissatisfied having a woman watch him, but that was because no other woman was Keeley. When she watched him, the pleasure on her face only added to what he felt.
"Like...and crave."
"Let's give it to you, then." He grabbed her by the ankles and yanked.
As she fell, she gasped with delight. Then, realizing her lower half was hanging over the side of the bed, she moaned. "So naughty."
He stepped between her legs, anchoring her ankles on his shoulders. The pressure there proved beyond sublime. The sights...more so, her nakedness on display before him. Breasts plump and perfect, nipples swollen and red. Belly quivering. Thatch of blond curls gleaming with her arousal.
"Yo
u're going to feel me in every cell of this sweet body," he promised. And I will feel her.
"Yes. Do it!"
He surged inside her, too shattered to give her time to adjust. He went all the way in. And oh, damn, the silk of her inner walls...the heat...the wet...every sensation heightened, and glorious, and yet almost unbearable. Too good. Her back arched as she cried out, already coming again. So tight. A vise around him, squeezing at him. He hammered inside her, hard and brutal, again and again, lost in every mind-blowing stroke, craving more of every sensation.
This was pleasure.
This was satisfaction.
This was...life.
But as she neared another peak, he pulled out of her.
She didn't understand his purpose and whimpered.
He lowered her legs and flipped her to her stomach, then once again thrust inside her. As she praised him, begged him, urged him harder, faster, she reached up and gripped handfuls of the comforter. Soon her cries of yet another completion were blending with his grunts, filling the room. If ever she forgot him...no, no...this moment would be forever branded in her mind--forever imprinted on her soul.
"I'm so close, princess." He leaned over and bit the sensitive cord running from her neck to her shoulder.
She screamed, coiling around him, her inner walls milking him all over again. This time it wasn't just too much--it was more than enough. He could hold out no longer. He shattered completely, pouring into her, giving her every drop until she'd wrung him dry.
*
THEY LAUGHED AND cuddled for hours--and of course, made love again--and Torin's happiness only magnified until he practically burst with it.
So far there were no signs of sickness.
The second time they'd made love, she had taken the time to learn him, the way he'd learned her. She had massaged the rigidness from his shoulders before dragging her fingers along the bumps of his spine. The hard mounds of his backside had received an appreciative squeeze. She had moved in front of him and slid her hands down his chest, between their bodies, and fisted the base of his erection. She had traced her thumb over the moist slit, and when he'd groaned his approval, she had licked away the little bead.
She had given him every touch he'd ever craved, and he would never be the same.
"I'm going to make a few improvements to the fortress," she said, snuggling into his side, running her knee up his leg, "Currently we lack a throne room."
"And no home is complete without one. Just remember, as my queen your throne needs to be smaller than mine."