She was falling.
He stood over her, in complete control of the universe, and she couldn’t take her mind off the kiss he’d given her. That one kiss. The one that had promised her heaven before betraying her to hell. Despite it all… she wanted it again.
“Truth serum,” he said, that perfect white smile lighting up the face of an angel, wicked and perfect. It unleashed the softest sound of yearning inside her, and that sound escaped the cage of her teeth. Then his grin turned as dark as his gaze. “I suppose it’s good for a few things.”
But she barely heard him. He moved in so fast, she had no time to react before his strong body bent over her and he at last claimed her lips in the fierce fire of his kiss once more. For the second time in as many hours, Helena’s mind went supernova. The kiss was bruising, his mouth hungry and determined, the rest of him even more so.
He planted a knee against the bed beside her and she found herself on her back, Will towering over her. She lost herself in a whirlwind of thoughts that wouldn’t fully form as his lips scorched a path from her lips to her ear, and the wall of his body moved in. “Say my name again,” he commanded, the brush of his breath against her skin sending delicious waves of sensation washing over her.
Helena barely interpreted his words. It was the meaning behind them, the deeper demand that some part within her comprehended, and it was that same part of her that responded. “William,” she said.
He stilled above her, a deep, desperate sound escaping his throat. Helena turned her head and glanced at his eyes. He’d closed them as if in bliss, his lips parted just above the pulse point on her neck. As she watched, stunned by the image and the sensations he was unleashing within her, he pressed those lips to her throat in a kiss – and power moved through her.
It hit her with the force of something solid, and she gasped, almost crying out. Her back arched as she was pressed into the mattress. Will wrapped a strong arm around her, pulling her into the middle of the bed where his strength – and his magic – held her down.
She closed her eyes while waves washed over her, sizzling and intimate, as if Will had a second form and it had a mind of its own.
“If you aren’t sure, then stop me now,” he told her, heated words spoken desperately into her ear. It was a plea and a warning. But his body opposed his words, hard and radiating heat above her, his hands firm but just shy of painful, his chest pressed against hers – and she had no intention of stopping him. Helena knew something was changing, she knew something integral was happening, and could no longer tell whether it was even good or bad. She only knew she wanted it. And in that selfish, precious moment after all she’d been through in her life, it was damn well all she cared about.
Instead of saying anything at all, Helena fought whatever magic this was just to be able to place her hands to his chest and slide a hand up to his cheek.
Will rose and opened his eyes.
Helena gazed into them and for just a moment, her heart stopped. Time wrapped firmly around it and held tight, claiming it as its own.
Chapter Thirty
Will knew what she was seeing. He knew what she must have been thinking. In that crazy moment of blessed bliss, he felt like if he’d wanted to he could have delved into her mind and read the thoughts like a vampire. Or something more than a vampire.
Like a god.
Her touch so warm, so gentle, was a salve on a soul he hadn’t even realized was wounded. It had laid open and bleeding for what felt like eons. But the moment she tenderly took him in her hands and gazed into his eyes, he began to heal. And he knew he was right.
All he wanted in the multiverse was this woman right here. He would do anything for her. She made him complete. Whole. Even invincible.
There in the heat of his empowered gaze, he knew she saw something frightening. He could feel it infiltrating his form, sinking into his muscle and bone, flowing through his blood. He heard something distant like the ticking of a million clocks, and he could have sworn they were ticking away inside him. And he didn’t care.
Only Helena mattered.
As he rose above her and opened his eyes and captured her with ages of longing, he knew this was the telling moment, the deciding factor. This was zero hour.
What would she do? Would she run from him? Would he let her?
She said nothing as she stared up at him, wrapped in the literal magic of his emerald fire gaze. Her throat worked that beautiful swallow again, and her lips parted, her breath panting softly, her glittering claret-colored eyes making him feel equally intoxicated. She was lost to him, and he knew it. He could have laughed darkly, grinned in triumph, crowed in victory. If he’d had the patience. But he didn’t.
So he straddled her narrow waist on his knees and sat up in one swift motion, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head just as quickly. He wanted to feel her on his skin, needed to feel it. He tossed the shirt to the side and caught the hitch in her breathing as she stared up at him. He smiled, leaned over, and cupped his hand behind her neck, gently pulling her into a sitting position in front of him, his legs still straddling hers.
“Raise your arms, Helena. I want these clothes off of you.”
She did as he said, raising her arms over her head as if in a dream. Will curled his fingers under the hem of her shirt, brushing them against her skin as he lifted it up along her ribcage, exposing her inch by delicious inch. His own breath caught, his body tensed, and his chest felt strange as he exposed her to his hunger.
When the shirt was over her head, he sent that flying as well, and then slowly, tenderly, ran his hands around her rib cage until he’d encircled her, and his fingers worked the clasp of her bra. He held her gaze as he deftly unhooked it, and she wordlessly went still in his arms. She knew this was it. Her final barrier of defense was about to come crashing down.
His hands spread at her back, moving the straps over her shoulders and down her arms until she was fully exposed, and he could have stared down at her forever. No matter how long that was.
His teeth were bared now, his gaze on fire. He was aching all over, breaking out in a sweat, rock hard with need. “Now the jeans,” he said. It was not a request; he was simply telling her what was going to go next.
Her breathing quickened, becoming a rapid-fire response to his assault on her senses. She hesitated, so Will moved in, wrapping his arm around her again and pulling her against him.
Her body against his, skin on skin, set him alight like a bonfire. He could almost hear the inferno catch and raise to the heavens, radiating enough heat for the universe. His fingers curled into her back, and he had to fight not to leave a mark. She made a soft sound against him, but whether it was in pain or pleasure he could not know. He was lost in the mounting berserker madness of intolerable lust.
He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her head to capture her eyes. They were glassed over, nearly unseeing, her brow furrowed with climbing frustration. Just how he wanted her. He bowed his head until his lips were against hers, then commanded, “Lay back, Helena.” He kissed her gently, just the slightest brush of his lips against the plump softness of hers. “And help me take them off.”
Or I will rip them off.
As if she’d heard the after-thought, her eyes widened. She placed her hands to his chest, and he inhaled shakily, hissing through clenched teeth. Her touch was bliss, warm and tentative and precious. And when she pushed against him to lay back, he almost didn’t let her. But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?
So he leaned over, lowering her to his bed, and kissed her gently once more, lingering on the taste of her before he finally let her go to sit back up. He leaned back, reached behind his bent knees, and grasped the laces of her boots. Sweat glinted off the ripped contours of his chest as he did, and Helena broke eye contact, her gaze wandering. He almost laughed. But instead, he just absorbed the attention, his head – and other things – swelling.
Her boots were easy; they were lace-up leather combat, and warde
ns almost always wore them. He could have laced and unlaced them unconscious. He undid them, slipped them off her feet, and tossed them to the floor.
Then his fingers were curling into the waistband of her jeans. They flexed there, and he fought with the tremendous urge to simply shred the impeding garment from her body. Her eyes raced back to his and he stilled.
It would have taken immense strength to rip them apart, strength he knew he shouldn’t have. But it was strength he knew he did have, and he was beyond ready to use it.
For her sake, he didn’t. Instead, he held her beautiful, ruby gaze and un-snapped the top button. The zipper lowered tooth by tooth; he tortured himself with the slow and steady release, displaying his control over time. Finally, he again curled his fingers over the material and pulled.
At once, he felt Helena’s fingers on his grip, sliding over the backs of his hands to his wrists, where she held tight and used him as leverage to lift herself off the bed – helping him rid her of the jeans. He smiled darkly, never taking his eyes from hers. He lowered the jeans down the length of her legs, revealing ever more delicious, edible beauty with every second. She was smooth, slim, tight and perfect.
Will felt drunk with some alien emotion – happiness, joy, hope – and his head was light as her jeans hit the floor along with the boots and shirts. All that remained between them were her tiny white cotton panties.
Those he did shred. Helena cried out in surprise, but there was no stopping him, and they were gone in an instant. In the next, he was leaning over her again, only needing to be closer to her. Her warmth engulfed him as his body pressed into hers. He went to his elbow, his free arm snaking beneath the small of her back to wrap entirely around her. She was so small, and he was so tall, it was easy to encase her completely.
But there was still too much between them. His own jeans barred him now.
He claimed her lips with determined strength, impatient and hungry, and bit down in warning until she parted them for him. Then he delved deep, pulled his hand out from beneath her, and ripped open the front of his jeans, freeing himself at last.
His arm slid free of her waist so he could grasp her legs, his grip just shy of bruising but overtly possessive. His hands curled around, his fingers digging in firmly. He used his grip to pull her legs apart inch by inch. “Open for me,” he told her, breathing the words across the taut skin of her neck beneath her ear. He touched her pulse with his tongue, then his teeth, and felt it jump in response to what he was doing.
“Will…” she moaned again as he won the small struggle, and she granted him entry. He tried like the devil not to grin in victory, and failed. He laughed against her ear, nipped her lobe gently, and turned his face to kiss her temple. “That’s my girl.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Those deft fingers of his moved up her creamy thighs, inching their determined way to her moist, waiting core. It was radiating heat. His mind whispered epitaphs written in lightning, jagged and ancient. His body hurt more and more with each passing, racing heartbeat. It ached relentlessly, driving him on.
He brushed his fingertips slowly along her slick opening, and she bucked beneath him, quaking in response, and he made a sound that he turned against her throat, deep and guttural. He held her beneath him, knowing what was coming when he pressed two fingers between those heated, wet folds, and her body squeezed him tight, promising and perfect.
“Will!” she cried out when he wouldn’t allow her to move away. More lightning wrote across the backdrop of his mind, slicing it to electric ribbons.
She tossed her head to the side, her slim form trying for all it was worth to evade him, nothing but old brain preservation in charge now. Her back and neck arched, her fingers curled into claws against his chest, her knees bent at his sides. He knew the sensations were too much; he was not what he appeared to be. Just like her, he was so much more.
And his fingers were invading her now, pressing inward, gliding deep. She made a desperate sound, her teeth clenched. Fate help me, he thought mindlessly. He was no schoolboy, but this was Helena. He couldn’t wait to feel her around him any longer.
She was burning through him, erasing all he’d ever been and replacing it with need. His cock throbbed, his head swam. Every muscle in his tall, strong body was flexed tight with need, his skin slick, his hair damp. He was on fire.
Will withdrew his fingers from her molten core and grasped Helena’s face between his hands, forcing her to turn her head toward him. She writhed beneath him, desperate sounds of disappointment escaping her bruised lips. “Look at me, Helena,” he commanded. His voice filled the room, echoing and deep. There was an accent to it now that he faintly noticed, but that Helena was oblivious to.
“Damn it, Will!” she hissed through her clenched teeth. She fought him, her nails drawing blood. He ignored the damage she did, his thumbs gently brushing her flushed cheeks. He wanted to look into her eyes when he took her. He wanted to see her soul.
“Helena,” he repeated, hoping against hope for the patience he needed. But he was nearly delirious with pain now, his need was so great.
At last, she obeyed and blinked up at him. He caught her gaze and held it. There in the center of the Promised One’s dilated pupils was a flicker of crimson red as bright and unnatural as the very fire that was consuming him. It was the slightest reflection of her primordial, fateful power. The fire was hypnotically entrancing and would have been grounding had he not already been so far gone.
But as it was, he defiantly gazed into that power, matched it with his own, and covered her mouth with his hand. In one hard thrust, he speared into her.
Helena screamed into his hand as he knew she would. Her arms wrapped around him to hold him tight, her nails drawing more blood as he claimed her. Long, thick, and un-givingly hard, he filled her aching tightness to the exaction of ever more pain. But it was delicious pain, bliss and agony and the wrapping of each around the other the way it was meant to be.
A rumble escaped his chest, rose from his throat, and echoed in the room as he sank slowly and steadily all the way to the hilt, and rested there so very deep inside her. She gasped desperate cries into his palm, her small body attempting to adjust to the massive invasion. But he couldn’t give her much more time. He was seeing stars, swimming motes of delirium threatening his sanity.
He braced himself on either side of her, his nerves riding that lightning that wrote itself across his mind before he slowly started back out of her sweet, ultra-tight core. Helena went suddenly still beneath him; she knew what was coming. He slid his hand off her mouth to the release of tiny, wanton gasps and grinned. “Forgive me,” he warned her.
Her eyes widened. He trapped her lips in a glorious kiss, his body begging him for mercy. But he didn’t want his cousin taking down the door at the sound of Helena’s screams, and he fully planned on wringing more out of her.
Again, he thrust into her, this time a little faster and harder than before. She cried out against his lips, and he drank the sound, teasing her tongue with his own in a dance that could have lasted forever. He sank so perfectly deep into her, he felt he claimed her completely, connecting them unbreakably. It was heaven.
The world was being overrun with Dark World monsters, Cain was free and furious, and they were running out of time. But in heaven, there was nothing but time. Nothing but Time.
And its master.
The swimming stars finally exploded in Will’s mind, a supernova of profound magic that swirled around his strong form as he gripped the sheets of his bed in tight fists and pulled himself out of his mate to take her once more. Harder.
He sank intensely, the sensations so strong they shook the foundation of all he’d thought he knew. She was encompassing him, changing around him, and he was changing within her.
As she adjusted to his subjugation, he broke the kiss and whispered across her lips. “Helena…” he said softly, just to say her name, thoroughly enjoying the sound of it on his tongue. He rocked back, quicken
ing his pace, his need rising to an undeniable crescendo.
Helena’s rasping breaths brushed his lips, but she smiled a lost and helpless smile as that fire in the heart of her eyes continued to burn. The tight glove of her canal pressed in on him, crushing him like a wicked dream, the rings of muscles around his length squeezing back with just as much need as he showed her.
The magic he’d unwittingly released continued to encase them, forming a thick cocoon of power that glowed like the Aurora Borealis in winter and brushed against their naked flesh like a lover’s caress. Its presence was but a whisper beneath the thrumming drum of his heartbeat and the endless, vicious rhythm of his massive need. He drew back and plowed into her with passion just shy of fury, brutal but tender, always teetering on the line between.
She pressed her lips to his chest, silencing her own cries as he took her, and Will wasn’t disappointed when she finally bit down in a fevered frenzy, growling in her own climbing ecstasy. Distantly, Will realized the objects in his room were floating. The books were free of the bookcase, the pens and pencils hovered above his desk, and their clothing drifted. All of it glowed with Helena’s telekinetic magic, a semblance of the fire that literally burned in the depths of her gaze.
Her strangled cries vibrated against his skin, and Will relinquished his grip on the bed to take Helena in his arms again. He was heading into crazy town. There were no logical thoughts for him any longer. His mind was a Chinese New Year, filled with explosions too loud to hear, and colors too bright to behold.
Blood pooled in the half-moon wounds Helena’s short nails had carved into his shoulders and back. He felt the wetness distantly, distractedly. His strong arms held her for a moment more before he snaked one down beneath her to cup her round, tight bottom. The other, he spread across her tight abdomen, slowly moving it lower. Helena moved against him, playing into his every move. He slid lower still until he touched the wet heat of her with his fingertips once more. There, he pressed against her expertly, manipulating her in a new way. Her body tensed beautifully in response – and he didn’t let up.