Mists of Velvet (29 page)

“It is not what you think. This is the card of rebirth, a time of change. A time for something to end, but also for something to begin. It is the phoenix rising from the ashes. Death is not the end; it is only the precursor to resurrection. It’s a powerful card.”

She stood up, needing to control her thoughts, but he reached for her and stroked her arm.

“I’ve frightened you. I’m sorry. Many consider the tarot an invitation to evil. But much can be learned from the cards. I do not use the cards for the Dark Arts, but to shine light in the darkness.”

Rowan slowly looked at him. It was now or never. Her time was drawing to an end, and she needed some answers. “Is that why you isolate yourself, why you come here to this black room?”

She heard his breath catch and saw him turn away from her, his face a beautiful mask concealing his thoughts and feelings. “I don’t isolate myself.”

“It’s only you and Rhys. And when you’re not with him, you’re alone.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes dark and stormy. “Have you ever noticed how a house can be full and bursting with life, yet one can feel utterly alone in it?”

“Yes.” She had felt that way, too, especially now, staying with Bran and Mairi. People surrounded her, people who cared for her; yet she felt utterly alone.

“You and I are very much alike. Few people, I think, would even acknowledge such a thing.”

Rowan nodded and glanced about the room. “Perhaps that is what draws us to each other. We are alike.”

His eyes turned violet, and his voice dropped to a bone-melting purr. “Is that the only thing that draws us to each other?”

Her stomach did a little flip, and a million butterflies were suddenly set loose inside her. She couldn’t answer his question. It was too personal. It was too risky to tell him the truth. Instead, she let her gaze wander around the room as she thought of an answer.

On a table beside the bed, a square of shiny black satin lay beside a candle. On the fabric was a lock of blond hair. Crumpled beside it was a piece of paper.

Keir suddenly stood in front of her, blocking her view. “What is that?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Keir—”

“Nothing that concerns you, then.”

Rowan felt her heart crumble to dust. Did Keir have a lover? Was it Bronwnn? The blond hair was light enough. Oh, God, was Keir with her . . . sister? It was possible. Rhys and Keir shared things—all things—or so Sayer had told her. Maybe they were sharing her.

And why wouldn’t they? Bronwnn was gorgeous—and thin, which was something Rowan was not. Figured. She
would
discover she had a sister, and that she was the ugly one, all in the matter of an evening.

“What brings you to me tonight?”

It was a question, but his words and the huskiness of his voice made it sound downright seductive.

“I—I don’t know.” She glanced away, unable to meet his gaze. “I suppose I needed someone to talk to. And Mairi . . . Well, ah . . .”

“She is with her mate,” he supplied. Taking her glass, he set it behind him on the table. “What is it you wish to talk about?”

He advanced upon her, and she backed up. He followed her, not allowing her any space.

“I . . . ah . . .” She tried to think of something to say, anything but the truth, but it flew out of her mouth before she could stop it. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His eyes grew darker and his chest broader as he continued to swallow up the space between them.

“Tell me these thoughts.”

“Tonight,” she whispered, licking her lips nervously. “Bronwnn. What I am.”

“No. The other thoughts. Of me. Of you.”

Of course, she had thought of them together. But now she wished she hadn’t, because she didn’t know how to go on. She wanted him. But she needed him to make the first move.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice darker, more commanding. “Let me into your thoughts. You thought of us together, didn’t you?”

“A journey,” she blurted out. “You know, to learn more about me. What I am? Don’t you want to learn more about me?”

He was forcing her back, and she wet her lips once more, her body responding to the aggression she felt pouring off him. “Yes, I want to learn more.”

She smiled in relief, which faded when she felt the bedroom door press against her back. Rowan was forced to look at him as he loomed big and male over her.

She tried to speak, to ask him where he wanted her for the divination, but he held a finger up to her mouth to silence her.

“I’ve wanted to learn how you would feel in my arms. Taste on my tongue. I’ve wanted to learn your body, what you like, what makes you wet and moan. I want to know what it’s like to be so deep inside you that I can feel you pulsing around my cock.”

She could hardly think as he reached out and touched her, pulling the quartz necklace from beneath the neckline of her dress.

“I want to know what it’s like to have you naked beneath me, your eyes focused on me as I show you how much I want you.”

She gulped and saw his gaze drop to the fluttering pulse in her neck. He inhaled and pressed his eyes shut.

“I already know your scent; it clings to me. But what I don’t know is how you will smell when you’re aroused. When I’ve marked you with
my
scent.”

“Keir,” she whispered, afraid to touch him, afraid that this last minute might have been a dream, and any second now she was going to wake up alone in bed, her body weak and chilled, her head hurting from the growing tumor.

“All this time I have kept myself apart from you because I believed you feared me. I was afraid I would hurt you. My desire . . .” He lowered his head and nuzzled her ear. “My desire for you is so strong. It’s grown, and I’m so hungry for you, Rowan. Tell me, do you feel the same way? Have I guessed wrongly that the real reason you’re here tonight is not for a divination journey, but another sort of journey altogether?”

She was literally trembling all over. Yes, he was right. She had come to him in the hope that he would show her passion. She wanted—needed to know—if he felt anything for her.

“Have you come to share your body with me?”

She blinked, and then she nodded like a mute idiot. She couldn’t speak. She was so damned nervous.

“How long?” he whispered, and she heard the door lock behind her. His hands reached for her shoulders, and he smoothed his fingers down her arms. “How much longer will I have to wait to learn everything about you?”

“Please,” she pleaded, and she hated the bit of fear she heard in her voice. She wanted him. Her body was crying for his, but her past would not give up its claim on her.

His head lowered till his mouth was resting against her ear. “How long since you had a man inside you?”

Rowan closed her eyes and allowed herself to drown in the sensation of his face pressed into her hair. “Keir,” she said huskily as his fingers brushed her hair over her shoulder, baring her neck.

“Have you ever had a man kiss every inch of your skin?” He pressed his warm mouth against her neck. “Have you ever had him explore every part of you with his hands, his mouth, his tongue?”

“Please,” she whimpered. But was it a plea for him to stop or to continue?

She felt him reach around her hips for the hem of her dress. He pulled it up slowly, teasing her with the movements of his fingers and his breath against her neck. Her legs shook as he slid the lace from her shoulders and kissed his way down her arm until the dress fell silently to the carpet. She stood before him in her panties, watching as his gaze roved over her body. Instinctively she covered her chest with her arms.

“Don’t.”

His command was harsh—dark—and her nipples beaded tightly.

“I’m going to look at you. Feel you. Taste you. And I can tell you right now that I’m going to love everything I feel and touch—and the taste of you”—his gaze lifted to her face—“is going to be ambrosia.”

Nervously, she allowed him to pull her arms away from her body.

“Perfect.”

One word, said in his dark, passionate voice, was more powerful than any she could imagine. The hunger, the desire she saw in his eyes made her stand a little straighter, a little prouder of her body, away from which he seemed unable to look.

“How long since a man has tasted your skin? Felt between your thighs, and made you come?” Never, she wanted to scream, but she could not. She could only gasp as Keir’s large hand cupped her breast. His hot palm pressed into her soft flesh as he rubbed his hand along her nipple, making it hard and beaded as it strained against his hand.

“Tell me how long, Rowan.”

She turned her face to his and watched as his hot gaze passed over her face, then down to where his hand cupped her breast. He used his fingers to feel her and send her nipple and areola puckering. Sharp stabs of need shot through her, straight to her belly, and suddenly she felt the desire to curl her fingers in his hair and guide his mouth to her breast.

“Don’t be afraid, Rowan; don’t,” he whispered softly, gazing up into her eyes. “I won’t hurt you. I only want to be with you. To give you pleasure. To have you take it from me.”

As if aware of her desires, Keir lowered his head to her breast and closed his eyes, running the tip of his tongue along her searching nipple. The sharp spark of desire ignited deep in her belly and made her knees weaken. She reached for him, her fingers biting into his upper arms—arms that felt so solid and strong.

She watched as he curled his tongue around her nipple, then slipped it gently between his lips, sucking her. She had never seen anything so damned hot, and arousal swept through her, making her moan. She reached for his thick, silken hair and ran her fingers through it, clutching it tightly as he built the pressure up inside her. Not even her own fingers tugging at her nipples felt this arousing. Keir’s mouth was pure decadence, and she encouraged him further with little moans and whimpers.

He lifted her up as though she weighed nothing, then turned her so she was kneeling on the bed and his mouth was level with her breasts. He was pushing both her breasts together.

“So beautiful,” he rasped as he cupped her and brought her breasts together in his hands. “I want to do so many things with these. I could look at you forever. I could feast on you forever.”

“Yes,” she said in a long rush of breath and whispered words as he ran his tongue along both nipples. He released her, nuzzling the scented valley of her breasts before capturing one nipple between his teeth and nibbling gently so that she called out and was forced to smother the sound in his hair.

His hands slid down her waist to grasp her buttocks, and he cupped her, pushing her forward so that he took her breast into his mouth and suckled her fiercely as he kneaded her bottom. His finger found the cleft of her sex through her panties, and he pressed his finger against her, wetting the fabric. “Have you dreamed of me kissing you here?”

She nodded, and with a wave of his hand, she was divested of her panties. “I’ve thought of it, too,” he whispered. Then he slid the pad of his thumb between her swollen folds until he found her clitoris. She sucked in a breath as he passed his thumb lightly over it. “I’ve thought every day about going down on you, tasting you. I’ve imagined you naked, but nothing compares to what I see now.”

“Keir, you’re saying all the right things,” she gasped.

“All true,” he whispered as he kissed his way down her chest. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you in your store. I’ve had you every night in my dreams.”

“Then why did you wait?”

“Because I was afraid that I would hurt you. That you would see my tattoos, and that they would remind you I was not . . . human.” He met her gaze. “I want to be with you, Rowan. But I’m not a mortal man.”

“I see only you now. I feel only you. Right now, it’s just you and I.” She was amazed at the words that fell so easily from her mouth. But they were the truth. Right now her past was forgotten. It was only Keir with her.

“I’ll make this right for you, Rowan. I swear it.”

She moaned as he slid down her body and put his mouth to her sex, blowing hot breath against her swollen, sensitive flesh.

“You need it, don’t you? My mouth down here, tasting, licking . . .
eating
.”

“Oh, God,” she cried as she felt his mouth pressed against her. She felt the firm, wet tip of his tongue thrusting between her sex until he could flick her clitoris, and she wanted to beg him to press his face into her so she could feel that hot, hard tongue on her skin. Thrusting her hips back so that his finger could enter her, he groaned and cupped her pussy, rubbing her with his palm as his finger sank into her.

“You’re so wet.” His eyes had darkened to a glittering silver. The violet edge was now a dark purple. She saw that his fingers were wet and glistening, and that he wiped the moisture from his hand onto the black satin square.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

Then his jeans were off, and he was naked—and how he took her breath away. He was big and gorgeous, and his cock was huge, the tip glistening wet.

Rowan thought she should be terrified, but she wasn’t. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel him.

Reaching for him, she curled her fingers around him, stroking him. His eyes sparkled as he leaned into her. “This is going to be so damned good.” And then he brought his mouth down slow and soft against hers. Fisting his hand in her hair, he angled her head so he could taste her, and Rowan opened her mouth to him, allowing him to search between her lips with his tongue. He kissed her long and slow, his tongue moving with hers, his hand fisting and loosening in her hair.

It was a kiss with no ending, and soon she was so needy, so reckless, that she was clutching him to her and rubbing herself against his hard body.