Crimson Cove (18 page)

              All around me was sound and sensation. It was there, drumming in my ears, Bane’s heart beating. I was aware of his desperation, his eagerness and the knowledge had me swallowing knotted clutches from my throat, had me pulling him to me, loving the slick feel of our skin touching.  Bane’s fingers smoothed along my ribs, flirted against my stomach, descending, as he kissed me, a controlling, pressing touch. 

              “So damn warm,” he growled against my ear.  I shivered at the vibration of the sound, skimming my fingers along his naked back, smiling at the small work of red light that collected in the friction of our touching. His movements quickened—mouth on my flesh, on my breasts, cupping, licking along my stomach, and I sucked in a harsh breath when his fingers jarred me into a moan.  “I love you making that sound.”

              I was speechless, anxious, my thoughts becoming inconsistent and unorganized.  Bane’s mouth, his teeth and tongue, met every inch of my skin, trailed over my body to draw me into a fury of hard pants and a desperate requisite for completion. It was the same drugging sensation I felt that day in the English Lit classroom, stronger than the kiss that night in the forest when simple touches and insistent kisses had me lightheaded and high, like some rogue chemical was coursing through my veins. In a flash and quicksilver of movement, he growled again, a rough, dire rumble and then we shifted, coming together, our bodies arching to join, to connect in a smooth sweet pleasurable pain. 

              “Finally,” he hissed as he buried himself in me. He was larger than I’d ever had and fit me securely, filled me up with the strength of his body and the deep, pleasurable jarring of his body inside me. We moved together, breaths seaming to moisten our faces, his body stretched out over mine, his hands on either side of my head. He stared at me and I could only manage to blink back.  His mouth went to my neck, suckling.

“Bane.” My whisper was breathy and weak, and I disregarded how desperately my body shook, how the sensation of him inside me, over me, should have made me scared, should have filled me with guilt. It didn’t, I wouldn’t let it, and with each juddering movement, each plunge, I shuddered, my skin humming with sensation, with the inexorable feel of him reaching up within me, piercing me so hard I could feel him near my womb.  Yet, I needed more, still felt incomplete.  I pushed on his shoulders, making him frown, then kissed him, tracing my fingertips over his skin.

              I didn’t have to speak, to demand. Bane followed my lead, went down onto his back easily when I moved over him, smiling, happy, giddy when my knees went to his hips and I slid onto his dick.

Eyes rounded, he obeyed my silent command, not hastening to grab my hips, his fingers pressing into my waist, sitting up to fasten his mouth to my breast. The room filled with noises—the rhythmic creaking of the wood floor, my harsh whines and Bane’s low growl, assimilating to form a liquid song; the sound of life, of inevitability. When he reached a hand to my breast, his fingers shook, grazing my ribs, and I saw the low glow of red light swirling over my body.  The heat coiled beneath me, rose to crest through my knees, up my torso until it exploded below my stomach, a dulcet, aching stab that had me pulling away from his mouth and leaning my head back as I cried out, racked by wave after wave of searing heat. I could feel Bane’s smile on my chest as he rested his forehead against my collarbone, the sensation only helping along the complete satisfaction of my finish.

              Boneless in his arms, I fell on the rug, with Bane’s impatient hands pulling my hips, settling me over him again so that my back arched, just touched his leg as he sat in front of me, my weight centered over his lap, his still hard dick pushing up deep inside of me. His movements continued, and I could hear our echoing heartbeats, thundering in time with one another and the smell of us, thick and feverish as we moved together. Bane’s attentions went back to my stomach, holding me at the waist, while pushing me up and down on his cock, so that he could rub his lips over the flat plane of my skin, across my ribs, near my breast, to pay tribute to the small birthmark next to my left nipple. 

              With a kiss, small and gentle, I squeezed tight around him, desperate to feel him slip out of control and Bane jerked, roaring as his head fell back and I watched him shudder and jerk under me.  He held firm to my body, pushing down on my shoulders. His body tensed and convulsed as he filled me up, straining, shuddering to completion. Slowly he relaxed, and, staring back at me, that fierce, red light faded as Bane’s breath slowed, fanning along my skin to kiss me.

“Better,” he said, his face buried in my neck. “So much better than the daydream.”

There in the lull of buzzing, naked skin and the cool comfort of Bane’s arm heavy against my back, the cabin grew quiet. We were inside a bubble of our own making—one that protected us from what lay beyond those walls. As long as we did not move, as long as we kept to the silence and the soothing hum of our limbs tangled together, then nothing would dissolve that bubble.

              I had wanted him, it seemed, always. Just then, I had him. My hips still ached. My womb felt full and swollen and deliciously used. Bane had cornered and caught every available sensation I tried to hold back; he’d shaken loose the hold I had on my own control. Letting him know my thoughts, those raw emotions, had not been my plan and still he took them, wrangled them loose until he caught sense of what I’d felt wrapped around his body.

              We weren’t sleeping. Breaths too labored, too cautious came and went as I rested on top of him, his palm firm and steady on my lower back. For a moment I thought pretending would suffice. Not speaking, not breathing too quickly might make Bane believe I’d drifted off, that our time in the cabin could be prolonged.

              I didn’t want the spell to weaken. I didn’t want the bubble to burst.

“All things end, Jani.”

He curled that large arm tighter around my waist, a possessive, comforting movement that I wanted to resent. I couldn’t. It felt too good.

“Stop reading my mind.” My body still hummed, still felt stretched and languid. I wanted the moment, to live inside it, keep it between my fingers.

“Not your mind,” he said. “Emotions.” Bane moved his fingers up my back, brushing the ends of my hair between his knuckles. “I can’t read your mind.”

“I disagree.” When Bane looked down, eyebrows pinched together, I smiled. “Anyone that touches me like the way you did has to be a mind reader.” The crystal glint in his eyes and the brilliant blue flecks danced in the firelight.

“Emotion, little witch. It’s the best compass,” he sighed, kissing my shoulder.

We’d leave soon and the thought wrenched my insides, coiled knots in the center making a dull ache spread into my chest. To be, just there, comfortable, as though it was usual for Bane to hold me, as though it wasn’t some disruption of our reality, was a kind of bliss I’d only daydreamed about. And so, apparently, did he—or thought he had.

The quiet room, the warm, sweet scent of our bodies all stirred something elemental, something that could match the lines’ power. Something that could level its reach.

I’ll always want you.
He’d sworn that ten years ago. It’d been a vow I imagined he’d forgotten and laying there, thinking of that day, I wondered if some part of him remembered making that promise.

Whatever Bane thought, whatever he remembered about the past got cast aside by the slow movement of his fingers over my skin, by long, liquid feel of his tongue against my shoulder, down the slope of my breasts when he kissed me there.

“You taste like jasmine,” he said, moving over me, mouth open against my hip, hand gripping, fingers sliding inside me.

Bane tasted me again, his body strong over me, his slow, soft words reminding me that he wove spells with a touch, that he could shift the tides with a kiss timed perfectly. And when he lifted me, settled me over his lap again, urged me on top of him to take and take and take, that sweet, quiet fragile bubble protecting us expanded. We clamored for taste and touch, swimming in sensation—Bane sitting up, guiding me, my fingers tugging on the wavy strands of his hair, him thick and large, pulsing and deep inside me until I could only cry out. Then Bane atop me, arms shaking as he stared down, his body large, his breath heavy, was all the sensation that mattered in the world.

But time spun quickly; it sped us toward an end we knew we couldn’t avoid. No matter how long we stayed there—Bane still inside me, me clinging to his shoulders—reality would come knocking, insisting, reminding us that our obligations had already been set.

Still he held me like I was precious, like just moving away from me meant a goodbye he didn’t want to speak, and I could only inhale, etch the smell and feel of him right in that moment to the sharper points in my memory. “We could run away,” I said, knowing that would never be an option.

“Where would we run?” Bane would play a while, humor me while we fantasized.

“The beach. Some place remote.” I smiled against his chest when he pulled me close. “Some place where I can walk around naked, roll around in the sand with nothing on.”

“Wouldn’t mind that.” He moved his fingers down to cup my ass. “You with white sand dusting all over those plump nipples.” He demonstrated, holding my breasts in his hand, testing the weight. “I could invent other things…things I’ve imagined for years.”

“Like what?” I asked, sliding up his body.

Bane pulled on my waist, gliding his hands up my ribs. “You on my mouth, wrapped around me, holding me, gripping me…God, Jani, do you know how you looked to me back then?” When I shook my head, Bane got a little lost in the memory. That small unfocused stare of his shifted, and his voice took on something akin to wonder. “You nodding off in class, you staring at me like you were both scared and turned on and utterly at a loss how to deal with any of that? All of those months came to a head in that classroom when you kissed me.” He snapped his fingers. “One minute I’m thinking about what you’d taste like, the next there you are, answering a call I didn’t make and I’d never felt anything like it. I’d never wanted something so much and then wanted it even more after I’d had it. I want it again, Jani. Fuck, how I want it again.”

“Bane…”

“No, don’t make excuses. I know what’s in your head.” He followed when I shuffled to my feet, reaching for me as I disengaged. “Why is it you? Why is it always you, Jani? What is it about you that keeps me wanting you?”

“I don’t…it doesn’t matter.” My shirt caught on my elbow when I lifted it over my head and Bane held me still, trapping me against the wall when I refused to look at him. “Your coven…they won’t care about anything between us. Your uncle…”

              He silenced me then, large hands covering my face, his forehead against mine. “I don’t care what they want.”

              He smelled so good, his skin was so hot, all that delicious sensation distracted me, tempted me not to walk away. “Bane, I’m not going to let you sacrifice the future of your coven, of the Cove, for me.”

              “Why?” he said, looking down at me with one hand pressed against the wall. “I didn’t ask for this. None of it. I never wanted for any of this to be my responsibility.”

              “It doesn’t matter if you wanted it or not. It’s here. You can’t walk away.” I hated the truth of the moment, how he closed his eyes, how he looked so eager to ignore the reality of our lives. The Elam was still missing. The Cove was still threatened and Bane and I had spent the better part of the night forgetting about our mission. It wasn’t fair, but then what the hell is?

              “I would,” he said, voice still soft. “I’d walk away in a second if I could have you.”

              “You can’t…”

              The quick rapt of knuckles on the door interrupted me and I frowned when Bane walked away. He moved his head toward the handle, then worked his jaw again.

              “Trevor,” he told me, nodding for me to finish dressing. 

              “Wonderful.” The bubble disintegrated in my hurry to shimmy into my jeans and the disappearance of all of Bane’s lovely inked skin when he covered it with his shirt.

“He isn’t alone.” Bane tilted his head, seeming to pick up another signature on the other side of the rattling door.

              “What?” But I didn’t need to ask who Trevor had with him. I’d know that energy anywhere and grunted as Bane swung open the door, my shoulders falling when Trevor and my brother walked inside.

              “Nice sleep over?” Trevor asked, moving his gaze around the room as though he looked for some evidence of our activities.

              “What do you want?” Bane said, fastening his belt as his cousin and Sam walked further into the tiny cabin.

              “Change in plans,” Sam said, casting a side long glance at how close Bane stood next to me. I hadn’t even picked up on it, but didn’t let my brother’s judgmental look make me self-conscious.

              “Beckerman is calling in the big boys.” Trevor spoke to Bane, barely glancing my way when I folded my arms to combat the chill I felt. The wizard managed one long, slow look over at me before he returned his attention to Bane. “We need you in the Cove to help distract the mortals before the state troopers and feds are called in.”

              “Can’t Papa…”

              “He’s over his head with this one,” Sam said, interrupting me. “Ivy wants answers and is beginning to resist the compulsion charms. We can’t manage to convince him that things aren’t as they seem. Whoever stole the Elam is leveling up.” My brother paused, squinting as he watched the way Bane moved his hand to my lower back. “Someone set Batty’s bar on fire last night and it spread through the town. They’re targeting our family, Jani, and the Grant’s.”

              That hand on my back smoothed over my exposed skin and I swear I felt the smallest buzz of energy moving from Bane’s fingertips to my back, but then Trevor spoke, giving Bane a look that seemed baiting, possibly a bit judgmental and he crossed his arms, taking that small warmth from me.

              “You’re to come with me and help with the mortals,” Trevor said, slapping Bane on the shoulder. “Sam will go with Jani toward the Elam on the trail.”

              How did this happen? Two minutes before he was inside me. Three minutes before that we were in our own world free from obligation and responsibility and the people who loved to control us. We had spent the night forgetting, just for a little while about who we were and what we wanted. It was a small reprieve from the expectations that clouded our lives, not something to repeat but as Bane dressed and we busied ourselves with preparing to leave, I still felt the small flicker of his stare, that heat that was never too far from me anytime I was around him.

              “Your fiancé is worried about you, cousin,” Trevor said, and I caught Bane’s low grunt as they moved toward the door. Then Bane stopped to look at me and there was something in that expression that told me goodbye was the last thing on his mind. It lasted only a second, but if felt significant; something I’d store away like all my frayed memories.

Behind the closing door, Bane and Trevor’s voices trailed off into the distance as Sam and I prepared to leave. “What were you thinking?” my brother asked me.

              For a few seconds, my gaze unfocused at that closed door, another small reprieve I wanted to keep before reality crashed back on my shoulders. “Don’t start with the interrogations, Sam. It’s not the time.”

              When I shuffled my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the door, my brother stopped me, grabbing my arm. “Does he know?”

              “What?”

              The pressure on my arm wasn’t tight, but was constrictive as Sam stared down at me. “Did you tell him? About the block? Did you remove it?”

              They thought I was careless. My family thought I was selfish and irresponsible and that little stunt at eighteen had haunted me for ten years. Removing the block would have been a mistake, no matter how badly I wanted to do it. But it wouldn’t remove the danger from the situation. It wouldn’t restore the Elam and it would only make Bane hate me sooner. That was coming, but I wouldn’t hurry it along. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I didn’t.”

              Something in my brother’s gaze eased the tension in my chest. Of everyone, Sam understood wanting to let the old ways go. He hated that one of his best friends was stuck marrying a witch he didn’t love. Sam hated that we still had to hide from the mortals. But he knew what was at stake. He knew the danger we were all in and I saw that emotion shifting his expression, making that hard frown dim.

              Sometimes we see outside of ourselves. Sometimes there are moments so profound that it’s like we’re watching them from another vantage point, from someone else’s body. That’s how the next few minutes played out to me.

There was no forethought to what happened next. There was no preparation.

Sam stood in front of me, blocking my view of the door. He stared down at me so that his attention was on me. The cabin itself was small, the area around it filling with the noises of the woods and the animals and insects that went on living and being without any commentary from us. And the lines, those taunting, loud lines that Bane had managed to block from me somewhat still sung low and sweet, teasing, taunting so that it became part of the environmental elements that kept my attention distracted.

“Look, this entire situation is shit, Jani. You think I don’t get that? And I don’t want to add pressure to an already tense situation, but it’s not the time for you to make confessions.”

              “Which is why I didn’t open my mouth.” Sam released me and I stepped back, ready to get on the trail and forget everything that had happened in this cabin. “I told you that.”

              “You know I would never…”

              Our words kept us distracted from the rustle of feet outside of the cabin.