Immortal Trust (34 page)

She twisted her head, terminating the kiss. “More, Lucan,” she whispered. “I want more of you.” And God help her, she knew in that moment, she would never get enough.

On a hoarse groan, he reached between their bodies, and released the buttons on his jeans.

CHAPTER 31

The flutter of Chloe’s hands alongside his as she helped free him from the confines of his jeans electrified Lucan’s skin. He was aware of her in ways he had never been aware of any woman. The scent of her arousal, the rasp of her breath, damnation, the brush of her hair against his elbow stirred some deeply foreign craving that only she could fulfill.

Cool air washed across his buttocks. A shake of his ankle removed the last of the denim. He was bare, and she lay stretched out on the floor beneath him. Ready. Willing. Waiting.

He ought to pick her up and take her to the bed. She deserved more than the hard floor and rug burn. And yet, naught would make his body obey. The need to be inside her, and quickly, beat through his veins like long-ago drums of war.

Kneeling between her legs, he bent his head to draw one rosy, taut nipple back into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around the hardened bud. Soft fingertips glided over his shoulders, and a quiet sigh of contentment slipped off her lips. Her hips lifted, grazing his, inviting him to descend and slide into her waiting warmth. He resisted. This was not about desire. Nay. Though the light in her eyes revealed she had surrendered her objections, he wanted more.
Must have
more.

Tonight he could not settle for simple pleasure, though ’twould be so damnably easy to do. He must elicit her complete, unyielding trust. For come morn, he would need it when he confided her status as a seraph.

And in truth, he ached for Chloe in ways he could not describe. Ways that went far deeper than the joining of flesh and the spilling of his seed. He could not abide this distance that spanned between them during the waking hours, and he would accept no more of it. Tonight, she would yield. As he yielded to her.

He released her breast and dusted kisses down the straight-line center of her body, to her navel. Her hands followed the contours of his arms, over his shoulders, along his biceps, down his forearms until her fingers lay atop his. He eased his weight to his elbows and took her hands. Contact. As much as possible. Saints’ blood,
aye.

Then he dropped his mouth on her warm, wet flesh. Her gasp tore through him like lightning, and she bucked up off the floor. His body answered, his cock stiffening further, though he had not believed such could be possible. He glanced up to look on her delicate face and nearly unraveled. Sweet sacred Mary, she was a fantasy come to life. Long auburn hair spilled on the white rug, a halo touched by fire. Rapture softened features that were already soft and inviting. Full pink lips swelled beneath the sharp press of her teeth.

He disentangled his hands, determined to hear the cry she sought to silence, and gripped her hips, lifting her up into his mouth. Lapping at her sensitive feminine nub, he savored her sweet flavor. Reveled in her musky scent. She undulated in time with the steady, slow caress of his tongue.

“Oh, Lucan, that feels … good…” She exhaled unsteadily. “So good.”

When her hands settled into his hair, Lucan sucked the sweet bud into his mouth. She keened as her nails scraped against his scalp. His pride swelled. He had broken through that barrier of restraint. Pulled from her a soul-deep sound that he knew she did not wish to give, but could not help herself. A precious, timeless cry he would carry in his memory for as long as he walked the earth.

As her flesh pulsed against his mouth, he withdrew from her intoxicating warmth and lifted his head, waiting for her to open her eyes and look at him. When she did, a question loomed on her face. But beyond the outward curiosity, something richer gleamed. Those dilated pupils held nothing back. He saw clear through to her heart, and what he found there, tightened his own to painful limits. Acceptance. Affection.

So deep was his reaction to the profound discovery, his lungs ceased to function for a frightening drum of several heavy heartbeats. But as she raised her hips to his and her moist flesh rubbed against the swollen head of his cock, his senses slammed back into him.

She pulled at his biceps, urging his body down to hers. “Make love to me, Lucan. Make me yours.”

“Aye, my sweet.” He took his hard shaft in his hand, aligned it with her slick opening. “From tonight forward, hold naught back from me, Chloe. Give me your word on this.” His body trembled as he awaited her response.

A moment of fear passed across her face. She struggled for a tenacious smile, hesitatingly nodded her head. Her flesh clamped around the tip of his erection, begging him to embed himself inside her. Still, he resisted. He would have her words.

To elicit them, he would give her his. He held her gaze steady and willed her to believe in his sincerity. “I give to you my eternal loyalty.”

Were they in different places, under different circumstances, he would have bent on one knee and pledged the words with the offering of his sword. But ’twas out of reach, and the gesture entirely unsuitable to the deeper intimacy flowing between them. Words would have to suffice. He only hoped she could understand the imperishable meaning. For in the utterance, he stood in service to her. He would be judged as she was, her safety his only responsibility. Even the oaths of brotherhood and the immortal Code came second unto her, and her alone.

Beneath him, Chloe shuddered. Tears pricked her eyes, adding a brighter sparkle to their already mesmerizing shine. “I’ll fall in love with you.”

Her whisper did not hold as much fear as it did promise. The tension fled his body, and with a low groan, Lucan pushed himself inside her warm sheath. God’s teeth, she fit so perfectly around him. Each grip and squeeze of her flesh drew him deeper. Brought him into the depths of her body until he touched the mouth of her womb and staggered under the waves of ecstasy that crashed over him. No more divine haven existed. He could stay here a lifetime. Where her heat enveloped him and the steady thrum of her heart pulsed around him. Where he felt her unlike he had ever felt another.

Lowering his body onto hers, he hovered over her mouth. “I want you to, my sweet.”

Before she could either agree or protest, he drew her into a hard kiss. Need surpassed all thoughts of gentleness. He had waited too long. Held back until his body refused to listen to another willful command. He knew he should give her a moment to recover, that as a virgin would need time to accommodate his body, her shy mind needed time to accept what had just passed between them. But damnation, he could not stop his hips from retreating and dragging his swollen cock through her tight, wet flesh.

He yielded to the timeless rhythm of lovers. With a hard thrust, he sank back into her. Buried himself to the hilt. “Ah, Chloe, you are more heavenly than I had imagined,” he murmured against the corner of her mouth.

She turned her head to draw in a great gulp of air and lifted her hips. He sank deeper. Release clenched a tight fist around his chest, making it impossible to draw in a normal breath. Sweat broke over his body. His cock pulsed. His mind reeled. He pulled back, intending to give them both a moment. Yet her body clung to his, rising and lifting, chasing after pleasure that boiled just beneath the surface.

On a hoarse groan, Lucan gave up all attempts at restraint. He slammed into her, jarring her into the floor. She cried out, but as she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, he realized the sound had naught to do with pain. Still, he could not abide the thought that tonight would leave her with any regrets. He slid his arms behind her and cradled her shoulders in his hands to prevent her body from rubbing too harshly against the course carpet fibers. Then he let go completely.

Her body moved in time with his, a matched rhythm to the piston of his hips. Her soft cries mingled with his low, satisfied murmurs. He thrust forward, dragged himself across the sensitive nub guaranteed to ignite her. Her inner walls clamped down hard. Lucan set his jaw. He would find release with her. Not before. Not after. Perfect synchronicity to match the perfection of their melded bodies.

His hard, steady strokes took on urgency. Chloe met him with equal abandon. Her hands grabbed onto his shoulders. Her legs tightened around his waist. “Oh God, Lucan. I’m going to—”

Her words strangled on a sharp cry as her body spasmed beneath him. He was there with her, need breaking to the surface and ecstasy ripping through his veins. His cock swelled and pulsed. Satisfaction poured through him, and along with it something deeper. Something richer.

Something akin to love.

Dropping his head to her shoulder, he sank into her, marking her with the spilling of his seed. Gradually, their bodies slowed. Their breathing stabilized. Lucan lifted on shaking arms to gaze into her amber eyes. Wonder lay in her wide-eyed stare. Tears crept down her cheeks.

And in that moment, Lucan realized ’twas not
akin
to love, but love itself. Though it seemed implausible, unbelievable in so many ways, he had lost his heart to Chloe. Something he had given no other woman in over nine hundred years of life.

Taking a deep steadying breath, he kissed the dampness from her face and wrapped her in his embrace. “Shall we move to the bed?” he asked in a near whisper.

She let out an airy laugh. “I’m not sure I can move.”

He could not stop a grin from spreading across his face. “You best be able to. I am not finished with you yet, Chloe Broussard.”

Like a cat, she curled into his arms. Her nails scraped across the small of his back. “Mm. That sounds delightful.”

Though he wanted naught more than to stay in the warm recesses of her tight sheath, he forced himself to leave the enticing heat and eased out of her body. As he rose to his feet, he brought her with him, then swung her into his arms. Three long strides took him to the bed, where he laid her down in the pillows and stretched out alongside her body. Pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat, he tasted the salt of her perspiration. “Come with me again, my sweet. I fear this hunger for you is yet unsatisfied.”

“Let me help you with that.” Smiling, Chloe turned into his embrace. She slipped her hand between them to rest over his cock. He swelled against the firm grip of her fingers, the equally firm slide of her palm.

God’s blood, her touch gave him a sweeter glimpse of heaven than all the archangels combined. When morning came, ’twould be too soon.

*   *   *

Tane squared off with Merrick in the gray light of imminent dawn. Swords at the ready, he faced his commander, his body attuned to the fight. “One more time, aye?”

Merrick gave a sharp nod, his onyx eyes never leaving Tane’s poised blade. “Aye. Then I must attend to Anne.”

Slowly they circled one another. Mistrust flowed from Merrick into Tane. Four months, and though Merrick had agreed to allow Tane to return at his leisure, Merrick had not yet forgiven. Tane could not blame him for that. And so he challenged his commander to a round of practice, determined to prove himself in blades, if not in deed.

His fate hung in the outcome of the spar. If he lost, Merrick would deem him unworthy to accompany Caradoc to Sicily. If he won, he earned more than the assignment. He earned the chance to reclaim his honor.

Honor he was not so certain he deserved, and yet he craved all the same. He had wronged them all greatly by kidnapping Anne. Destroyed bonds of brotherhood that had withstood centuries of loss.

Merrick took a quick jab at Tane’s left thigh. He drew his broadsword down sharp, blocking the crippling blow with a bone-jarring
clang.
The sound echoed through the indoor training yard as if they sparred in the long-ago tunnels beneath the Temple Mount that brought them to this immortal fate.

Bringing his arm up hard and fast, he thrust Merrick’s blade aside. But the light of angels, the light Anne gave to her mate, made Merrick faster. He spun on his inside leg, arced his sword around his body, and slammed the flat side of it into Tane’s shoulder. Had it been the sharp edge, as ’twould have been in battle, the forceful slice would have ripped through links of chain. As it was, the impact unbalanced Tane. He stumbled forward. Dropped to his knees.

Disgusted, he tossed his sword on the ground in front of him. “’Tis an unfair advantage you possess, Merrick. That makes three of three.”

A grin pulled at the corners of Merrick’s mouth, but he did not set it free. Four months ago, he would have. Nay, ’twould take far longer to bring Merrick back to the state of laughter and companionship they had once known.

He did, however, offer Tane a respectful bow. “Aye, ’tis true. But ’tis why we are given the seraphs. I must take my leave. Your arm is sturdy, Tane. Do not be disheartened.” Always the commander at heart, even the betrayal that lay between them would not deter Merrick from commending his men.

Tane did not believe the words. Yet again, he had failed. He watched Merrick leave, disgusted by his inability to stand toe-to-toe with one he had once matched. Sheathing his sword, he cursed the darkness in his soul. Had he not been plagued with such vile jealousy, mayhap the archangels would have seen fit to bless him with a seraph by now, and he too could experience the healing strength of their angelic light.

For now, he must content himself with once again being allowed to roam the Temple halls at will. And he must abide by the looks of reproach his brethren cast his way. Such was his punishment. Though ’twould have been a kinder fate had Mikhail seen fit to expel him from this earth.

He stormed to the door, only to have them open inward as he reached for the handle. Merrick ducked his head inside. “You will arrive in Sicily, two days hence. I shall inform Caradoc to meet you at the airport.”

Tane blinked. He had failed the challenge. Why send him? He had not earned the reward.

As the door settled into its frame, he could not cease the quickening of his pulse. Though the reasoning eluded his grasp, he understood he had been offered the opportunity he requested on returning to the Temple at the beginning of the month. He would be allowed a greater duty. Although Caradoc would be present to oversee him, Merrick had extended a boon.