Married (25 page)

“I saw.” Silviu dropped the others’ hands and stepped back. “A strong witch.”

Ileana looked up at him with eyes gone slate gray with anxiety. “A stronger witch than you, Silver. I hadn’t thought that was possible.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Tulah

Tulah shifted over the smooth, warm heat beneath her cheek, taking comfort in skin sliding against skin. Somewhere in her head, warning bells were ringing, but sleep still held her body soft and plaint, so she did her best to silence the clanging.

“No, don’t move, honey. I like how you’ve managed to stick your skinny bird-bones between my ribs.” Adam’s deep voice slid under her lassitude, poking holes in her comfort.

“Oh, my God.” She jolted upright and experienced a faint body-length ache. Cool air rushed over her naked torso, pulling at her nipples. Her bare legs rubbed Adam’s, skin on skin.

He pulled her back down, rolling until she was beneath him, sinking into the pile of pillows under her head. He shifted, his chest a delicious pressure against hers, and she heard a soft click just before light from the bedside table washed over them. He looked down at her, sleep-tousled and lazy, drilling desire straight into her bones.

Dark stubble lined his jaw, his blue eyes nearly glowed. His lips were soft, smiling at her even as he studied her closely. Adam braced his weight on one elbow, effectively trapping her against the mattress as his other hand rose to her cheek. He smoothed a thumb over the corner of her mouth.

“I healed you as best I could, but you’ll still have a bruise from Graves’ hand.” His eyes darkened. “How do you feel?”

Memories of dinner poured over her, but she found no regret waiting to suck her under. In spite of bringing danger straight down on her head, Tulah felt freer, lighter, stronger. “I feel great. Where am I?”

“My room. It’s almost five in the morning.”

She twisted her head to look around. She was on a twin mattress that barely held them both, and another was no more than four feet away. Heavy drapes framed dark windows, a tall armoire stood silent sentinel against the pale wall, but it was less oppressive than her own room and had a connecting bath.

“I thought your room was spelled against the entry of any non-Davenolds?”

“I cast the spell, I’ll change it if I want to.” Adam’s hand drifted up to smooth her hair from her eyes. “Why do you feel great? Nothing hurts? No lingering effects of Graves’ spell? I need more specifics, honey.”

Her momentary happiness swelled beyond her ability to keep it contained and she laughed. “I stood up to them. Even if they kill me for it, I made my opinion known.”

“Will it do any good?”

“I don’t care. It did me good.” Tulah raised her hands to Adam’s chest, scraping her nails through the light mat of hair angling south. She shimmied, trying to follow the line with her gaze, but the shadows pooled too heavily between them.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” he chided.

She flashed him a grin. “I’m looking for something I haven’t seen yet.”

“And I’m trying to find out if you’re certifiably insane.” His voice took on a dangerous undertone that sent excitement racing over her nerves. “Tulah, you challenged your Family Father
and
Graves.”

She stroked him slowly as she sighed. She traced his ribs, circled his nipples, let the heat of him burn her palms. “I was raised away from the Family. I was raised to be strong, confident and courageous. Since the moment Graves showed up at my door and demanded my presence here, I haven’t been any of those things.”

“Drove you crazy, huh?”

“Certifiable,” she taunted. “But I finally stood up for myself, and it feels great. I don’t care about the consequences.”

“Maybe I do.” He was getting angry—she could see it, hear it.

She tried to calm him by petting him. It always worked for her. “Imagine being a Ngozi female, completely powerless—”

“Try being a Davenold male,” he shot back.

“You have power!” Tulah tried to push up, but he blocked her, keeping her beneath him. “You don’t know what it’s like, to be beaten at your leader’s whim. You don’t know what it’s like to be tossed out of your home, with no money, nowhere to go, nobody to help you. You—”

“You’re right.” He deflated, the anger leaving his eyes in a rush. “I don’t know what that’s like. The Davenolds never set out to prove a point with our fists. Our Mother takes care of us properly.”

“Your men might not be the dominant witches in your Family, but they’re still valued, Adam.”

“Yes. Not in every Motherhouse, though.”

She glared at him, willing him to concede the point. “But in yours.”

“My grandparents were close. I don’t know if they loved each other, but they were friends. Madeleine was raised by parents who fostered a sense of Family, her grandmother was devoted to Family.”

“The Davenolds are unique among witches, then. The Ngozis are all about gaining power over their brothers, their cousins. My mother’s Family does the same.”

“Which Family did your mother come from?”

Tulah shrugged, shook her head and went back to petting his chest. “Adam, I’m naked in your bed and I would rather celebrate my small victory than rehash the past.” She wriggled beneath him and was rewarded with the feel of his cock hardening further against her thigh.

He looked at her for a long moment. His eyes darkened as if he was in the grip of some strong emotion. Tulah was learning the signs, but Adam still kept his tone even when he spoke. “You’re sure your head doesn’t hurt?”

“Positive. Will you fuck me now?”

A new emotion passed through his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do to you.”

He lowered his head slowly. Tulah waited for him to reach her lips without lifting to meet him. He closed in on her, holding her stare, the blue of his eyes turning brilliant and troubled. She shut off the niggling whisper of doubt and regret in her mind by finally tilting her chin, placing her lips just under his.

Still, he hesitated a moment more. Tulah didn’t push—instinct screamed to hold still and wait, to grab her patience and keep it close. She watched him through a tangle of lashes, felt his breath flow over her and simply let her body relax under his.

Adam took his sweet time. His lips brushed over hers, barely there, just an impression of soft heat. Slowly, he dragged his mouth against hers, learning the shape of her. Her impatience slipped its leash, her lips tingled. Without thought, Tulah parted them, licking the lower curve in unconscious temptation.

Adam’s tongue followed the path of hers. A quick flick, then a longer swipe along the upper curve. Tulah caught her breath at the sheer eroticism of his deliberateness. One by one, the muscles of her body, only just relaxed, tensed again as she fought to keep still for him.

He entered her mouth with a gentle glide. Utterly dominant, wholly possessive. He left her no room for a strong response and she held herself passive under his tasting. He licked over her, sliding his tongue against hers, flicking the roof of her mouth. Tulah simply let him.

He withdrew to tease her with soft nips and wet flicks until her passivity was broken and she reached for him. She lifted her head off the pillow, following as he retreated. She caught him just as the pressure of his lips became a phantom, the tip of her tongue questing.

He caught her mouth in a fierce embrace and she realized she’d somehow given him exactly what he’d wanted. Some unfathomable mixture of challenge and surrender only Adam could measure. His kiss sent her world spinning on a new axis.

He possessed her mouth thoroughly and she fought to take his. The intensity skyrocketed, sending flames winging down her spine, but Adam’s speed never increased. Tulah grew restless beneath him, arching and wriggling until he lowered his hips, trapping her against the mattress, his legs caging hers. She could barely move against his weight, but felt compensated by the heat of his hard cock digging into her belly.

She sent her hands gliding over his chest, using the edge of her nails against him in a tortuous pattern. The friction of Adam’s skin had hers twitching in need when he shifted to catch her wrists. He pulled them above her head, anchoring them in one big palm.

But Tulah was determined to celebrate her success at standing up for herself. She was determined to take what she wanted, not knowing if she’d get another chance and not willing to waste the one she had. She wasn’t about to let Adam simply take her power from her after so recently finding it again. She flexed her spine and forced her muscles into compliance, lifting until her pebble-hard nipples scraped his chest.

Sensation flared and struck deep. For the sheer pleasure of it, Tulah lifted again, rubbing slowly as her nipples hardened further. The first wave of bliss ebbed from the peaks and she noticed Adam’s kiss had slowed into lazy licks as his attention to her mouth fractured. Mischief had her straining her back to roll against him, teasing him with pressure before stealing it away.

Tulah tried to break his control because she didn’t know if she could survive a long, slow loving from Adam Davenold. Didn’t know if either her heart or her conscience would make it through the fire.

His control would not be broken.

He growled low in his throat and thrust his hips against her belly, but Tulah wasn’t fooled. He wasn’t giving in—he was punishing her, tantalizing her by holding what she wanted just out of reach. He dropped his torso until he was a hair’s breadth above her, the points of her nipples sliding through his chest hair with every breath as he ripped his mouth from hers. Lips, tongue, teeth—all were used against her as his caresses slipped down the long line of her throat. Tulah took the opportunity to pant for breath.

His tongue rolled over her collarbone, painting a wet trail over her chest, between her breasts. Every nerve filling the swollen mounds quivered and sat up attentively. She couldn’t stop her body’s movement—small jerks, shivers coursing through her, the undeniable need to push impossibly closer.

Heat flash-flooded her body, her eyes widened to see the distortion before them. Magic coasted over her skin, but she didn’t know if it was his or hers, couldn’t think beyond the sensation of it to catalog the nuances. It hadn’t been like this before, in the sitting room, and he was the first witch she’d ever hopped into bed with.

“Adam?”

“Just feel, Tulah. Feel me.”

He licked her nipple. She held her breath. His lips closed around the peak and sucked until white-hot wires shot toward her clit, leaving trails of need sputtering in her abdomen. She gasped, her torso left the mattress. He pushed her back down and sucked again, his cheeks hollowing with the force.

Need grew claws and raked her body. She twisted under him as her lungs squeezed, her heart jogged. Heat and magic coated her, sparking against her collarbone, wriggling over her ribs. Her legs grew restless between his and she used everything she had to lift her belly against his cock. Again and again, shifting and arching up, compressing his rigid length between their bodies.

Adam gave, just a little. He pressed his hips down, meeting her as she rose. The friction of his velvet flesh against her lower abdomen only whipped Tulah’s need higher. Adam turned his head, caught her other nipple, tortured it as he had the first.

Time stretched out, an eon of wondrous torment. Nerves she hadn’t known she possessed surged to life, tautened and hummed. Noises erupted from her throat, growls and purrs, a chorus of pleas Adam refused to heed. Blood thickened in her veins until it flowed in syrupy slides of heat, setting her flesh on fire, zinging through her muscles with careless destruction.

She needed more.

With every lick and nip, with every smooth glide of his hand over her body, Adam drew her tighter, wrapping her up in a web of emotion Tulah didn’t want, but couldn’t refuse. She struggled with her own mind, desperate to reject the connection he forced on her, determined to feel the bliss he pushed through her. She felt torn in too many directions and dependent on Adam to hold her together.

He licked down her belly, sliding his cheek against her skin until she was scraped raw by his morning stubble, but still begging for more. Her belly danced, muscles flickering beyond her ability to control, her skin glistened with sweat and flushed with desire. His tongue dipped into her navel and she felt an echoing pulse between her legs.

Without rushing, he moved lower. He was forced to release her hands and Tulah finally had an opportunity to send them sliding over Adam again. She grabbed his shoulders, kneading the heavy muscle. She looked down at him as he looked up at her, and saw the battle he waged in his eyes. He wanted to plunge into her, hard and fast and
now
, and yet he held back, clearly intent on pushing her higher.

“Why are you doing this?” she croaked. “Why won’t you just take me?”

“Because I want you out of your mind.” His growl nearly had her coming as it vibrated across the top of her mound. “I want you screaming my name and forgetting any others you’ve ever had. I want you so fucking wrecked you’ll compare everyone else to me until the day you die. And they will never measure up.”

She couldn’t understand him. “I just want you to fuck me.”

“I don’t care what you want.
I
want slide into you nice and slow, sinking so deep you’ll taste me when I come, Tulah.
I
want you to feel me, every fucking inch, pressing into you, stretching you, and I want you to feel empty when I’m not there.”

She already felt empty. Her body was weeping,
wailing
, for him, rippling with a brutality that stole her breath and lifted her hips convulsively. Her inner walls clamped onto themselves with nothing else to hold on to, crying for his cock.

He shifted her thighs around his shoulders and dipped his head. His lips closed around her clit and Tulah fell back to the pillows, fighting for the breath to survive. His mouth was hot enough to burn her, wet and slick and expertly pulling on her with long draws and longer licks. Fireworks shot off in her lower stomach, tightening in glittering loops around her spine.