Crystal Moon (19 page)

Honor demanded he remain aloof from her. Honor demanded

he deny what his heart told him of her.

Honor be damned. He would have her.

***

Sianna closed her eyes as Kyne’s head swooped down

and his lips captured hers. Expecting to feel anger in the crush

of his mouth, his tender caress surprised an unexpected response

from her. At the sweet stroke of his lips, her body softened and

went pliant in his now gentle embrace. Warmth spiraled in her

belly, a tumbling, chaotic feeling that left her breathless and

yearning for something she’d never experienced, but knew she

needed to be complete.

This man, and this man alone, could fill the emptiness she’d

carried inside herself for so long, the aloneness, the longing.

Her hands fumbled with his shirt and trousers. She never

thought to protest as he stripped off her tunic and bared her

skin to his heated gaze. With a frustrated snarl, he ripped away

the remainder of his clothes.

Braced on his arms, he hovered above her, his skin gleaming

like smooth, dark honey in the sunlight. She lifted her hand then

hesitated. What did he want of her? Would he welcome or

reject her caress? His jumbled emotions gave her little guidance.

“Touch me.” His warm whisper stirred the down of her

cheek.

In a distant corner of her mind she felt the bed against her

back, the rumpled sheets and the brush of the silky bed robe.

Then the heat, touch, taste and scent of him surrounded her

until she lost any sense of where she ended and he began, as if

the joining of their lips also melded their spirits.

Doubts and fears melted away. They were one. Mind and

body. Her flesh his. His flesh hers. Familiar, yet new and exciting.

Like a baby first explores its own body, they discovered each

other. Touching. Stroking. Feeling.

Warm and solid, his chest muscles quavered beneath the

palm of her hand, and his breath caught in his throat. On either

side of her, his arms trembled. Made bold by his response, she

let her hand drift lower down the ridges of his abdomen. His

flesh was as smooth and hard as polished crystal yet warm and

pliant beneath her touch. She glanced up at his face, and the

look of naked longing in his eyes stirred her own growing desire.

Her fingers brushed over his heated length, and he jerked.

At his groan, she knew what he needed and cupped his weight

in her hand. A surge of heat shot through her own groin as she

experienced the touch of her hand on his body.

Did all people feel this way? Or did the unique bond

between Kyne and her make their mating different?

When he bent his head and took the peak of her breast into

his warm, moist mouth, her questions dissolved.

A sweet river of emotions swirled around them, their

essences blending into a rapid rush. Forgetting all that lay

between them, she let sensation carry her into an unfamiliar

realm of wonder.

Kyne felt Sianna’s presence, a part of him, yet separate.

How honestly she responded to his touch, no tricks or guile in

her reactions. The catch in her breath, the arch of her body

toward his, the flush of pink staining her chest and cheeks

revealed her arousal. She affected him far beyond the physical.

Made uneasy by the thought, he focused on the merging of

their bodies—the brush of skin against skin, the soft moistness

of her lips under his, the tingle of her cool, slim fingers grazing

shyly over him. He couldn’t stop his groan as those fingers

worked their way down his body and cupped him. Heat flared.

Need battled patience. Blood ran hot and thick through his

veins. Every muscle and tendon strained to let loose, to run this

race full speed rather than savor each sweet moment.

On a voyage of discovery, her hands, wanton yet somehow

innocent, wandered across his flesh and sought out his secrets.

Afraid it all would end before it began, he took her hands in his

and pinned them above her head.

“Relax and trust me,” he soothed when she started to

protest.

Clear azure eyes searched his. Before the tension in her

delicate wrists eased, he sensed her surrender. Satisfaction shot

through him as her lips parted slightly on a sigh and she yielded

herself to his care.

He released her hands and knelt over her. Though her gaze

followed him, she didn’t lower her arms or attempt to cover

herself. Bare to his view she stretched out on the bed, fearless,

a proud offering to some ancient god.

A cool harvest breeze contrasted with the warmth of the

sun streaming in through the open windows. Specks of dust

glittered and danced in the sunbeams, bathing Sianna in a

shimmering haze. With one large, calloused hand, Kyne cupped

her soft breast and stroked the nipple with his thumb. Instantly,

the pink bud puckered and stood erect, demanding attention—

attention he had no intention of denying it. Her breathy gasp

when his mouth closed over her breast echoed inside him. His

own nipples contracted and his stomach clenched at the sweet

suction of his mouth on her breast.

He felt her delight in his touch as he knew she felt his

pleasure in her caress. The realization that they were connected

beyond the norm unsettled him, but a torrent of sensation

dissipated his concern.

Breath whispered through her parted lips and her back

arched, thrusting her breasts upward in a silent offer. Her steady,

undaunted gaze never left his. Held captive by his reflection in

the dark depths of her eyes, he surrendered to her power and

levered his body over hers.

At the slight nudge of his knee, her legs slid apart to accept

him. Like sun-warmed silk her inner thighs brushed his hair-

rough skin. He clenched his teeth against the urge to drive

himself into her body without first seeing to her pleasure. His

need to stroke and satisfy her went beyond enhancing his own

enjoyment in their physical coupling.

“Love me.”

He swallowed her husky whisper and plunged his tongue

into the hot, wet cavern of her willing mouth. Arms winding

around his neck, she arched into him, her soft curves filling his

hard hollows.

His hand closed over her warm, damp woman’s mound,

and he felt a corresponding pressure over his own groin. Her

whimper of need echoed his moan of demand. Against her

belly his arousal throbbed in time with the rapid beat of her

heart. Eager hands stroked over trembling flesh. Kyne couldn’t

tell who stroked and who trembled. It didn’t matter. They were

one, both reaching, straining for a distant summit.

Parting the downy softness of her nether curls, he found

the tiny nub hidden in her folds and began a rhythmic massage.

With each stroke of his fingers her body grew taut and her

breath short. Lost to rational thought, she twisted compulsively

beneath him, legs twitching, body undulating, fingers clenching

the bed sheets. Concentrating on bringing her to completion,

Kyne tried to ignore the shafts of pleasure darting through him

with each stroke.

“Please, Kyne. Please,” she pleaded. “I can’t...I didn’t....”

Glazed now with passion nearly met, her eyes fluttered

shut and her mouth formed a soundless “O” as her body arched

into his hand and went rigid. Pink tinged her throat and chest,

and her nipples turned hard and red. For long moments she

hung there, suspended by the ecstasy coursing through her.

Echoes of her pleasure speared through Kyne, then moisture

streamed over his fingers.

With a ragged exhalation, she sank back to the bed. “I

didn’t know it could be like this.”

Her bemused confession confused him. Had Aubin left her

wanting? “There’s more.”

She shook her head slowly in denial, her sated lethargy

stealing over him. “More?”

“Much more.” With hands and mouth he bent to fan the

glowing embers of her desire. When the inferno raged again,

he positioned himself above her trembling form and plunged

into the heated blaze.

A fragile barrier blocked his thrust.

At her shocked cry and the brief piercing pain in his groin,

the connection between them ended. Though they remained

physically joined, their minds were no longer as one. He was

alone. Frozen, he fought his body’s demand to move, his arousal

throbbing insistently inside her hot, tight sheath.

A virgin? She was a virgin.

The thought had barely formed when she shifted beneath

him, and her long, slender legs wrapped around his hips. The

movement snapped his brittle control. Nothing mattered except

he purge himself in Sianna’s fire. Groaning in defeat, he let

instinct take charge and, regardless of the consequences,

embedded himself to the hilt in her body.

Again and again he withdrew and thrust. Though virgin,

she matched him thrust for thrust until sweat slicked both their

bodies and the tempo of their breathing grew hoarse and ragged.

Suddenly she shuddered, and her internal muscles milked him.

With a harsh moan he surrendered to his own climax and gave

her his seed. Though more intense than any coupling he’d yet

experienced, Kyne sensed that the sensation was only a fraction

of what could have been if they had maintained their link.

Drained and confused, he sagged against her limp form.

Questions hammered at his mind.

Virgin? Who was she? Laila, daughter of DiSanti? Sianna,

Daughter of Light? What of her relationship with Aubin? This

woman would bear no child of Aubin’s. Grief for the loss of

Aubin’s child faded before primitive male elation—she had lain

with no other man. She was his.

Determined to confront her and demand answers, Kyne

lifted his head. Words died on his lips.

Framing her porcelain features like a scarf of midnight silk,

her long hair spread across the white sheet. A dark lock curled

around her breast and teased a dusty-pink nipple. Moisture

pooled in his mouth at the thought of tasting that soft little bud.

Through parted lips, her warm breath brushed his cheek, and

deep inside her his body throbbed to life. Even in sleep she held

him.

“Moon madness!” As he uttered the curse, he jerked away.

Cool air swirled between them, drying the sweat on his skin.

Sianna shivered and murmured a protest, but didn’t wake.

She curled onto her side, her tangled hair draping over her body

like a misty black veil.

Easing himself from the bed, Kyne stared down at her.

“Sleep for now, little liar. Soon enough I will know the truth.”

Eleven

When Sianna awoke later that evening, the setting sun cast

the room in blue-green shadows. Bemused by her strange

languor, she forced herself to rise to see to Graham’s care. Her

muscles protested the movement, and a sticky dampness trickled

down between her thighs. Flecks of red stained rumpled white

sheets. Her tunic lying on the floor stirred her awareness and

brought heat to her cheeks. She pushed the memories aside.

Later, she would deal with what had passed between her

and Kyne and how it would change things. Work would take

her mind from the dangerous path it sought to wander. For

now, she ignored her aching body and heart, snatched up the

wrinkled tunic and yanked it over her head. With shaking fingers,

she combed the worst of the tangles from her hair and quickly

braided the long mass. Warda rose from his place by the hearth,

stretched, and followed as she made her way out into the hall.

Like an unexpected wind, heartbreak made Sianna stagger

just before Katya barreled around a corner and into her. In a

tangle of arms, legs and fur, they went down to the hard stone

floor, Sianna on the bottom. Warda yelped and scrambled to his

feet, his nails scraping Sianna’s belly and thighs as he did so.

Pain distracted her for a moment.

Over her, Katya pushed herself to a kneeling position. “I’m

sorry,” she sniffed. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

Stunned by both the impact and Katya’s lack of animosity

toward her, Sianna lay still.

“Let me help you.”

Warily, for physical contact heightened the flow of emotions,

Sianna accepted Katya’s outstretched hand. As their fingers

touched, Sianna sensed Katya’s deep sorrow, but her rage had

burned away. Katya pulled Sianna to her feet.

Fingers entwined, Sianna felt the young woman’s newfound

maturity. “You no longer hate me?”

Surprise flashed in Katya’s eyes. She snatched her hand

away. “Hating you is useless. It will not bring back Aubin. It

doesn’t punish you nor your father for your crimes. It only

tears apart my soul. And whatever else you’ve done, your skill

has saved Graham’s life. For that, you have my gratitude.”

Sianna could both see and feel the effort it took Katya to

keep her voice steady, but it broke on Graham’s name. Without

hesitation she sought to reassure Katya.

“Graham is a proud, stubborn man. Right now he can’t see