Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1) (34 page)

“’Twill be fine, love,” he said, kissing the crease between her brows.

“Promise me.”

He held her gaze a moment then nodded. She breathed out in relief as his focus shifted away from her face. It touched down on the moon-star that marred the curve of her shoulder. He traced it with his fingertip. “So pretty.”

Afina blinked. Pretty? Really? She’d always thought of it as an ugly stain—something she wanted to scrub off, a great shame that needed to be hidden from view. But as his mouth brushed over her birthmark, she forced herself to see it through his eyes. It wasn’t so bad if she looked at it that way. She would never think it was “pretty,” but if nothing else, the mark symbolized something greater than herself. It made her take stock and reevaluate. It made her believe she had a choice. She wasn’t doomed to be like her mother—freeing the dragons had taught her that. She could decide what she wanted to be and fate would follow.

The realization lightened her heart, and grateful for the man in her arms as much as the lesson, she turned into Xavian. His whiskers pricked her and sensation spiraled as she curled her arms around his neck. He murmured, kissed the moon-star again, and hugged her back.

Unable to help herself, her hands found the curling ends at the nape of his neck. She loved his hair: the color, its softness, how the thick strands played between her fingers. Afina set her mouth to the corner of his and whispered, “You’re all right? Not hurt?”

He shook his head and accepted her kiss, eyes glinting beneath dark lashes. “You are the one who was hurt, Afina.”

“I’ll recover,” she said, knowing it was true. Each kiss—each of his caresses—eased the burden. The stiffness in her muscles
was fading and her headache, though still present, didn’t seem so terrible.

“You had better.”

She huffed, enjoying his rough tone and the threat in it. It told her plainly he cared for her. Had been worried, and for some reason, she liked his concern almost as much as his body against hers.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“A little.” She smiled, daring him to retaliate for her audacity.

“Wench,” he whispered, wielding the word like an endearment.

Dipping his head, he nipped her upper lip, demanding entrance. She opened, welcoming him in with a sigh. He tasted like moonbeams and shadows; a dark decadence that nourished even as it stripped her of pride. Had he demanded it, she would have begged for him, brought herself low for the simple pleasure of holding him, heart to heart and skin to skin.

The fact she was naked beneath the blanket should have shocked her. After all, good girls didn’t wake up bare bottomed in a man’s bed. At least not without the benefit of a marriage ceremony. But Afina was tired of being good. In truth, the only
good
thing she wanted at the moment was to be very, very bad with Xavian.

The imp in her roared with approval and set about making a plan.

“Ah, question for you.” She drew away a little, following her imp’s advice. The need to tease him—the way a woman did a man—was too much to resist.

“Hmm?” Denied the pleasure of her mouth, he changed direction, finding the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Her breath hitched, and she gave in to a shiver. “Any reason I haven’t got a stitch on?”

“Same reason I don’t.”

“Which is?”

“I needed to be skin to skin with you.”

His hand slid down to cup her bottom, caressed with a light touch, making her pay for teasing him. Pleasure hummed, and without shame she wrapped her calf over his hip and rolled against the hard muscle between her thighs. He returned to her mouth, delving deep, tangling their tongues, delivering his taste one delicious stroke at a time. Taking all he gave her, she anchored her hands in his hair and opened wide to appease him.

“Jesu,” he said against her mouth.

Cords of muscle bunched beneath her hands. Afina caught her breath. The sheer strength in his arms, the hard flex of his shoulders, the ripple of his chest...Goddess, it made her head spin. But even as she reveled in the feel of him, he retreated, straightening his arms to break away from her. She tried to hold on, to bring him back, but he locked his elbows, hovering above her. Twin flames flickered in his eyes, half desire, half desperation.

She stroked his biceps, keeping the touch light, coaxing. “What?”

A tremor rolled though him. “Afina, love, I didn’t intend...shouldn’t have started...”

Tracing his collarbone with one hand, her other jumped to his jaw. She ran her fingertips over his whiskers, trying to soothe him while she waited for him to explain. It was hard to be patient. She wanted him so much. Needed his touch like a starving child needed food. But he struggled with something so powerful it furrowed his brow and brought regret into his incredible eyes.

Afina cupped his cheek, not understanding. “What is wrong?”

“We cannot do this. Not now.” Taking her hand from his face, he turned his mouth into her palm. “We should get dressed and...talk.”

Oh, goddess. She was losing him. His retreat was more than physical. It was emotional too. He was taking away what she needed most. But she refused to let him go. He belonged to her whether he wanted to or not. It was too late to go back, for either of them.

She had to make him see it. Had to make him realize how much he meant to her, that she was too far gone to bring her heart back into line. The love had grown with each gentle touch and soft murmur and heated look.

He cared for her too. The truth was in his eyes and the strong hands that stroked her. It was in the way their mouths met and their gazes held and their hearts beat. And as she looked up into his gorgeous face, she needed to make him believe in their connection. Part of that was having him make love to her...here and now, regardless of the consequences.

“Later.” Propped up on her elbow, she kissed the hollow at the base of his throat. He inhaled so sharply his chest jumped. She continued her assault, hands stroking over skin and hard muscle. A fine tremor rolled through him as she caressed his nape and whispered, “We’ll talk after, I promise.”

“Nay.”

She clenched her teeth on his denial, trying to contain the pain. She couldn’t. No matter how hard she fought, it bubbled up from deep inside, coming through on a whimper.

As the anguished sound spilled out, he groaned and one of his arms came around her, supporting her weight as he rolled.
The lambskin murmured as they touched down on their sides, facing each other. Afraid he would pull away, she clutched his shoulders. But instead of setting her aside, he drew her in, surrounding her body with his larger one.

Brushing her hair away from her face, he forced her to meet his gaze. “There are things I haven’t told you...things you need to know about me.”

“I know enough.”

He shook his head.

Determination took hold. Afina tipped her chin up, offering her mouth. His gaze betrayed him, straying to her lips. She parted them. He dipped his head. Their mouths met, but instead of the open-mouth kiss she craved, he gave her a gentle one. She pressed forward, flicked him with her tongue, needing him deep inside her. But he kept the caress light, each brush designed to soothe rather than arouse.

Well, she was way past that. She was hot and wet, so needy she ached from the inside out. And he wasn’t going to relent and let her have her way. She could see it in his eyes, in the controlled way he touched her and the set of his jaw. His restraint pushed her past determined into downright desperate, and she made the only play she had left. She used his concern for her against him.

“Xavian, my head still hurts and your touch helps...I need you right now.”

“Afina,” he said, tone soft with regret. He stroked the outside of her thigh, trying to soothe the way for his denial. “It isn’t that I don’t want you...Jesu, I would kill to be inside you, but ’twould be better if—”

“If you stopped talking and touched me...the way I want you to.”

“
Rahat
, you do not fight fair.”

She hitched her calf over his thigh and pushed into his embrace. “Finish what you started.”

“I am trying to do right by you. If you will just—”

“Do you want me to beg?”

His breath caught as he went statue still beside her. She studied his face, watched his nostrils flare, his eyes narrow, and saw the truth. The thought of her begging excited him...unbearably. It should have shocked her, but it didn’t. Somehow it made perfect sense. Dominant by nature, he liked control, wanted to push her over the edge while she pleaded for him to take her.

She licked her bottom lip and whispered, “Please.”

“Nay...” His tone beyond desperate, he rasped, “Don’t.”

“Please, Xavian.”

He shoved out of her embrace and backed away, sliding on one knee.

Deciding it was all or nothing, she turned onto her back and arched. His breathing became rougher when she spread her thighs and ran a fingertip down her throat. Eyes veiled by her lashes, she moved lower, watching him as he watched her hand trail between her breasts. Already hard, her nipples tingled as his gaze swept over her.

He slid back another foot.

“Please, touch me.”

“Jesu.” His throat worked as he swallowed.

Cupping one breast, her other hand continued its descent. Her heart tumbled as she circled her belly button, touch lazy and light. Watching him watch her, she shifted on the lambskin throw, enticing him one undulation at a time.

“Don’t do that.” His hands curled into fists, he growled, “Play fair, Afina.”

“No.” Her thumb brushed over her nipple, and oh...that felt good.

With a soft moan, she tipped her head back, breaking eye contact with Xavian. She heard him shift closer as her other hand slid into the curls between her thighs. She’d never touched herself before, but had overheard the women she’d tended talk about it. And Xavian had stroked her there once when she’d been beneath him. She wanted to feel him again, the stroke of his fingers and the pleasure and—

“Sweet Christ.” Xavian’s hand skimmed over her hip.

Afina bit down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. She’d won. He’d crumbled, and as he slid between her legs and pushed her knees wider she didn’t resist. Simply opened and waited for his touch, for the magic in his fingertips.

Except something hot and wet touched her instead.

Xavian growled. Her eyes flew open on a sharp inhale. He settled, his shoulders between her thighs, his mouth...

He was...he was...Oh, yes. His tongue was so hot, so insistent and—

Afina whimpered. He showed no mercy and licked her again. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Goddess, and she thought his fingers were good. His tongue was better, pure delight in every stroke.

The pressure built and she twisted as he licked deeper, spreading her with his fingers to reach a sensitive spot high on her sex. He flicked her lightly, sweeping around the nubbin, testing her response. With a keening cry, she surged against him. He held her down, one hand flat on her belly as his tongue explored her folds.

Lost in the bliss, she threw her head back, moving her hips, following his rhythm, wanting more. He didn’t deny her.
Settling deep, he sent her higher, knowing just where to touch and how much pressure to apply. But he wasn’t playing fair. He was making her pay for pushing him. The cost was pleasure: mind-blowing, gut-wrenching pleasure that never spilled into release.

On edge, held high without the promise of rapture, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, demanding he give her what she needed. “Xavian! I c-can’t...Oh, Gods!”

He lifted his mouth and set his chin on her curls.

“No! Don’t...go. Don’t—”

“Beg...beg me to let you come.” His eyes narrowed on her face, he nipped the inside of her thigh while tracing her folds with a fingertip. Her muscles clenched. He hummed, the sound delicious and wicked and ruthless. “You wanted it this way. Now beg. Make me believe you need me.”

As far as payback went, it was diabolical. But her pride was already long gone. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Make me come.”

He murmured in approval and slid one finger inside her. She moaned and rolled her hips, happy to have any part of him. He retreated then came back, stretching her with gentle strokes. But gentle wasn’t what she wanted. “More. I need more!”

“What do you say?”

“Please...please...yes, please!”

Without mercy, he thrust a second finger deep as his mouth moved over her again. He worked her hard: suckling, licking, plucking, his hand moving faster. Sweat slick and needy, she followed his rhythm, pleading with him to let her finish. He nipped her gently. She sobbed his name. He sucked harder. Her spine bowed off the furs: nipples tight, legs spread, the fire in her veins
more than she could handle. She couldn’t take anymore...she couldn’t—

“So good...you taste so damn good.”

His words accompanied one last, lingering lick. Then he latched on, put his mouth right over her nub and sucked until she crested on hard pleasure. Multicolored sparks set off the explosion, devastating her from the inside out.

She came down slowly: panting, boneless, so full of bliss she couldn’t remember her own name.

“Afina?”

Oh, right. That was it.

Something warm tugged on her nipple. She cracked her lids. Xavian’s tongue lapped her again, suckled a moment then turned to lavish its mate. She arched into the wet heat as his hips settled between her thighs. “Hmm...your turn.”

He groaned, the sound full of anticipation as he lifted his head from her breast. Afina met his ascent with her mouth, tasting herself as she tangled their tongues together. The kiss was slow and sweet, a gentle fusing as he cupped her bottom and adjusted their fit.

Afina gave an impatient wiggle. She couldn’t wait to have him inside her. To be picked up and carried away again by his rhythm and the long, hard length of him. She wanted his scent all over her: in her lungs, on her skin, deep inside her.

Poised to give her all she wanted, Xavian tensed and broke from the kiss. Still as death against her, he looked left, eyes narrowed, head tilted. Gripping the heavy muscle of his shoulders, she started to ask—