Authors: Cindy Paterson
She had to ask. “Did you like
being with her?”
His mouth crushed over hers in a
violent assault, pushing past the barriers of her teeth as his tongue drove
into her, sucking, tasting, discovering once again the rapture of what lay
between them. He was crazed for a few minutes, almost like he was afraid to
stop kissing her lest she leave. “Baby. Maitagarri. Don’t you know…?” He fell
back on the pillow his arm over his eyes. “I was so drugged up I can’t even
remember being with her. I popped so many damn pills to try and numb out what I
had to do. I hated it. I cringed at her touch.” He sat up grabbed her, pulling her
down on top of him, so her head rested on his chest. “After Jasmine.” He paused
and she could hear his heart beat faster. “She touched me…Jasmine’s hands
touched me intimately all the time. She wanted me to feel. To react to her. And
Christ sometimes my body did. Not me. But my body. I hated it so much. My body
for reacting. Myself for being weak. Most of all I began to hate any woman’s
touch.” He tightened his hold. “Except yours. I was scared when you touched me
that night. Of how I’d react, but then I craved it. God, I needed it. But the
drugs helped numb that too after a while.”
Delara was crying now. For him.
For what Jasmine had done. For what she’d done. For everything that had tried
to keep them apart.
But a burned city could be
rebuilt as long as the land remained. There love was the foundation, it
couldn’t be dug up. It couldn’t be destroyed because it was part of the land.
It was for eternity.
She was done waiting. “I need
you. I’ve always needed you.” It was more than desire between them, it was an
emotional connection. Always had been from the moment their eyes met in a
different time when they were even different people. But their love had
remained as they changed over time. Both of them suffering beyond immeasurable
circumstances.
Their love remained even when
she’d thought he didn’t believe in love. But it had been the drugs making him
so cold to what was beating inside him, to the love that refused to be doused.
“Baby.” Waleron nuzzled her neck,
the slight roughness of his scruff tickling her skin. “I’m going to make love
to you now. And for the next several hours. Maybe months if you let me.”
Wetness clung to the warm flesh
between her legs. The swarm of butterflies in her stomach took flight. And her
breath became short gasps. Her heart…her heart had taken off in a mad gallop
the moment she woke on the grass and saw him. It had yet to slow down.
“Okay.”
That was all he needed. One word.
Waleron rolled so he was on top of her, palms sinking into the mattress on
either side of her head.
The weight of his body sunk down.
“Spread your legs, baby.” A sound escaped the back of his throat. His body felt
every inch of hers. It felt so good to groan. To not think about having to
leave her—to feel. Even when his Scar chose to awaken again, he’d stay. He was
never leaving this woman.
Her hand was up behind his neck
trying to pull his head down to kiss him, but he needed a moment. Christ he
needed a thousand moments. This woman he’d wanted for so long, ached and
anguished for, she was beneath him. Finally.
His emotions were all over the
place. Desire. Love. Fear. That’d been so diluted and now they were shooting
off in sparks. So much buried beneath a blanket of drugs—except anger. That had
always been there. Calmer. More controlled, but still alive. Maybe because of
his Scar? Or maybe because Waleron couldn’t have what everything inside him
wanted? Even his Scar wanted her.
But now—Jesus. She was here with
him. Fuck, he’d been so alone without her. She’d never know how much. She’d
never realize that he never touched another woman. She would feel guilty and
had no reason to be. It didn’t matter anymore. This woman was his and he was
hers.
“Waleron?”
How long had he been staring down
into her coffee eyes? Never long enough. “I’m here, baby. I’ll always be here.”
He lowered his head and tasted what he swore was born to be his. Their mouths
interlocked with a slow languish, moving across warm, plush lips; their tongues
swept inside trying to ease the urgency that threatened to unleash.
It was like the first time again.
A slow, teasing exploration of one another’s bodies. He watched her every
second as he tasted every inch of her skin. He watched how her head sunk
further into the pillow and heard how she made this soft, aching noise that
made his groin twitch. He watched how her lips parted when she gasped then
sighed.
They finished undressing one
another silently, every touch of her skin to his bare flesh renewing their
fever. Their eyes rarely left one another, never wanting to let the other go...
Disbelief that this was happening and needing the constant reminder that it was
real.
When his fingers slid through her
wetness, he swore beneath his breath and the corners of her lips hinted upward.
Yes, he was different now, but they were the same—this was the same and
yet…better.
He knew her body, knew what she
needed and he brought her close to the height of collapse then eased off. Her
eyes said it all, frustration mixed with a plea, but he needed to be inside
her. To feel her tighten around him, scream when he did. He needed them
together because they’d been apart for so long; it had to be together this
time.
When he couldn’t wait any longer,
he slid inside. Slowly. Feeling every inch of her. Then he stopped. It was as
if in that moment they told each other how much they loved. That nothing would
break them apart again. Without words, they were saying I love you.
Hands interlocking on either side
of her head, he pushed all the way inside her and began to move. It wasn’t mad
or furious, it was more than that. It was a rediscovery of themselves. A
harmony, and they matched effortlessly.
This was about making love. A
tragic love that spanned over a century. A beginning where they would make new
memories and erase the old. This was their love for eternity.
There was no kissing. No words
until he saw her eyes widen and her mouth drop open. He was holding back
waiting for her, knowing that this first time they were going to be together.
Come as one. Because they were combined. Two people so woven together that they
were one and the same.
His hands clenched hers as she
gasped, her entire body tightening underneath him. He drove into her twice more
then let go. “I love you, Delara. God, I love you.”
It was two days before they left
the bedroom, neither one able to be apart for longer than a few seconds. Well,
it was more Waleron than her. He’d taken to being rather possessive. It was as
if he couldn’t stand for her to be out of his sight. Even when she crept out of
bed to go downstairs to get a drink he’d gone crazy. He was shouting her name
and Tracing from room to room until he’d found her.
The torture she’d seen in him. It
was more than she ever thought possible for Waleron to feel and she wondered if
he was taking his pills. There was so much emotion in him. A few times, she’d
heard him in the bathroom, it sounded like he was hitting the tiles with his
fist. But when he joined her in bed again, he pulled her into his arms and
kissed her and soon made her forget.
It was as if he was terrified
she’d slip away. Didn’t he realize that she couldn’t survive without him just
as much as he couldn’t live without her?
The Wraiths had contacted Waleron
telepathically, apologizing for the misunderstanding. Waleron told her Tor
sounded really upset. Even asked if Waleron could come to the Realm so he could
apologize in person. Waleron’s answer was straightforward— No. With my woman.
She suspected Waleron might have a few words with the Goddess Enid one day over
this.
He was lying on his back, eyes
closed and arms above his head, breathing slow and even. She was wide awake, up
on her elbow, tracing the ink on his side. It was new. She hadn’t seen it the
last time they were together. Half of it was hidden beneath him and she was
curious to know what it was. There was only his Scar on his body, no other
tattoos.
His cell phone rang and he
groaned, rubbing his eyes. Then the corners of his lips curved upwards when he
noticed her leaning over him. “Hmmm, baby. You look delicious in the morning.”
She laughed. “You said that
yesterday morning.”
“That’s because I mean it. And I
never want you to forget.” The phone kept ringing, but he ignored it. Instead,
he reached up and put his hand around her neck and pulled her down to kiss him.
The phone went silent then
started again. He groaned beneath her lips. “It won’t stop, will it?”
No. It had to be important. Maybe
they’d heard from Damien or Abby.
Waleron leaned over her to grab
his phone lying on the floor beside the bed. Her eyes caught the rest of the
ink tattoo and she gasped at the same time he said hello.
Etched in his side amongst
interwoven swirls of ink designs was her name.
He knew she saw it. He stared at
her, his hand holding the phone to his ear, listening and watching her
reaction. It took her a few minutes to grasp what he’d done. He’d really never
let her go. He pushed her away, but he never stopped loving her.
The phone fell to the bed.
She wanted to kiss him all over.
Love him again and again. But nothing in his face would allow that. The mask of
coldness had descended and with it this tension; this was his barrier that she
knew all too well.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
“What? Why?” He climbed off the
bed. “Waleron, what—” It was then she saw the snake on his shoulder, slithering
to life, eyes beaming a brilliant red. It disappeared behind his neck then
slowly slunk over his shoulder. “Waleron?”
He put on his black army pants
then went to the door.
She moved out of bed. He swung
around and she staggered backwards until the backs of her thighs hit the edge
of the mattress.
His Scar was now dancing across
his body and she saw the rage inside him. She could smell the fury building,
intensifying. “Damn it, Delara. Stay here. I need time. Alone.”
“But—”
He seemed to calm for a second
and he ran his hand over top of his head. “Give me an hour. I need an hour.”
She saw this was hard for him;
his body rejected the rage, yet it took control of him anyway. Where were his
pills? She’d yet to see him take out his Pez. Was he hiding it from her,
knowing how much she detested it?
The door slammed. Delara picked
up her phone and called Jedrik.
****
It took her a while to find her
bearings, after all she had no idea where Waleron lived. But with her Tracking
ability she was able to find her way back to the city within a half hour. She’d
left in a hurry after Jedrik informed her what had set Waleron off. Luckily,
Waleron left his keys in the glass bowl and, despite her poor ability to drive a
stick shift, she managed to get the Audi to the highway. She suspected he’d be
pissed she’d left, but she needed to settle things and now was the perfect
opportunity.
The gate to the Talde house was
already opening as she skidded around the corner.
“She still there?”
Jedrik’s voice sounded rather
amused.
“Oh yeah.”
He chuckled
. “She’s talking to Keir about some
vision she wants payment for.”
What? The only payment Trinity
ever asked for was Waleron in her bed. Delara parked and hopped out of the car.
She took a few calming breaths then walked up to the house and quietly entered
the library.
“He will want this vision, Keir.
Tell him to come speak with me and let him decide.”
Trinity was standing with her
back to her, curvy hips on display while leaning over the desk, her face inches
away from Keir’s.
Keir had noticed Delara enter the
library, but didn’t acknowledge it, keeping his focus on the witch. “Message
will be given. Now before I have to repeat myself, best you…”
Delara saw the moment Trinity
noticed her. The witch slowly turned with hands on her hips and a sensual sway
of her body. She raised her thin dark brows and her stark white teeth gleamed
as she smiled. Oh it was fake. So fake. Every bone in her body was fake. No
doubt, so were her breasts.
“I was just telling Keir about a
delicious new vision Waleron would be interested in it. I suspect he’ll come to
my place later and we will…discuss it at great lengths.” She accentuated the
words
great lengths
.
I bet her vision didn’t show
me making love with him over the last few days,
Delara thought. Too bad. Delara smiled and she immediately saw Trinity’s falter
for a split second. Normally, Delara would be as mad as a raging bull with
spears in its butt, but not this time. No, she was taking the witch-bitch down.
“I doubt it, Trinity. Waleron is unwilling to
discuss
anything with you
any longer.”