Seduced by Crimson (24 page)

"Your body is the Earth," he said as he caressed his hands up over her stomach and ribs. "It has soft hollows and hard mountains." He caressed even higher. His palms encircled her breasts, narrowing in a slow, sensuous slide to her taut nipples. "You nourish your young and bring life to all who touch you."

"How very erotic," she drawled. "My boobs are milk jugs."

She was nervous, defusing her tension with humor. He smiled and kissed her neck. "That's not how I see them at all." He settled her more firmly on his thigh. "Do you know why men are fascinated with breasts?"

"Why?"

He paused. "Uh… I have no idea, we just are. But they're round and firm and they peak when I touch them." To prove his point, he narrowed his fingers until he pinched her nipples, then had to grin when she gasped in response. Warming to his theme, he continued. "They're soft and squishy. They jiggle when you walk. And, er, I don't know, I just love playing with them." And it was true; he did. He lifted them with both hands. He squeezed slightly and twisted. He flicked her nipples with his thumb, then pulled her breasts taut by their tightened peaks. "Ever play with Play-Doh?"

She frowned as she looked over her shoulder at him. "You mean what you flatten down on the comics to pull up an image of Snoopy? Then distort him into a weird shape, like a bad dinosaur?"

He shook his head and laughed. "That's Silly Putty."

"Really?"

"Really." He pinched her nipple again and she arched back in delight. "I was thinking about the way I kinda just had to feel it, to move it, knead it. You know—do stuff to it."

"Play-Doh?"

"Yeah, but only till I was about thirteen. Then I found these." He kept toying with her breasts, loving the slide of her flesh in his hands, the weight and her heat. Most especially he loved the way her breath seemed to catch and stutter with his every movement.

"So… my boobs are an adult form of Play-Doh?"

He twisted her on his thigh so that she half sat on his leg, half reclined across his arm. "Ever eat it?" he asked.

"Eww! You ate that stuff?"

"Nope. But I definitely have the urge now." He pressed his lips to her body. Water splashed past, but he found that sensation incredibly erotic, especially as he felt the rapid beat of her heart. It seemed to tremble beneath his lips even as he lapped at her right nipple. He liked the differing textures of skin and nipple. He loved the sensations of water and hot skin. And he loved sucking her pointed breast into his mouth and rolling his tongue around and around the nipple. His free hand continued to play with one breast as he sucked and kissed his way over the other. "Breasts are just awesome," he murmured directly above her heart.

"How poetic."

He grinned at her dry tone, then lifted his head to look into her flushed face. "Don't try to distance yourself, Xiao Fei. Allow yourself to feel every moment of this. You need to enjoy this, to
be
this. Every inch." She frowned at him, but he reached up and trailed his finger across her lips. "Don't speak. Don't analyze; just live. Let go."

"Just
you
don't let go," she said around his finger. She was balanced precariously on his leg, her arms gripping his neck with surprising strength.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, knowing there were multiple layers to his question.

She sobered. He quieted as well, waiting nervously for her answer. "Yes," she finally said, though the word sounded rushed, as if she had to force herself to say it.

"Yes?" he pressed.

She took a deep breath. "I think you're completely loony. I think this whole concept is messed up. It's some old druids weird sex fantasy, and it has nothing to do with reality. So I think it's a waste of time." His blood cooled and his breath froze in his chest. Then she shrugged, and her breast slid up and down his palm. "But that's my head. For whatever reason, my stupid heart trusts you."

He blinked, trying to absorb what she'd said. "Your heart?" he echoed dumbly.

"You can't think of it's and whys during a war. There's no reason, no logic to what happens. You just have to accept, to shut down your brain and act on instinct. Like a beast."

He blinked again. He had no free hand to brush the drips from his eyes, just as he had no way to escape the confusion that came from her words. "You're allowing yourself to become completely bestial?" The thought was so alien to him, and somewhat repulsive, even though it was exactly what he needed. What the
world
needed. But he was a druid and a Ph.D. He lived in his head, even when he was merging with all that was natural.

She smiled, obviously unashamed. "You are so American."

He pulled back. She hadn't said it like it was a compliment.

"I am not becoming an animal," she clarified. "I am allowing all that is instinctive to surface and rule. How else can one survive madness?"

"War is madness," he agreed, as much to himself as to her.

"Especially this demon war."

He nodded. "Total madness." So he surrendered to it. Following her example, he allowed his instincts to rule. He didn't struggle to hold the image of Earth in his head; he trusted that together he and Xiao Fei represented all of Earth. He simply worshiped her as a man worshiped a woman, as Earth embraced the moon, as the sky loved the sun. Images slipped in and out of his consciousness, few making sense.

This was Xiao Fei. And he was going to make her his.

He bent his head to her breast and took the nipple again in his mouth. He sucked on it, teased the peak with his tongue, drew her essence into himself and feasted on it. She gasped, and soon she was writhing beneath his onslaught. Her hands gripped his shoulders, tightening and releasing in a clear rhythm. Her clenching increased his desire.

He broke away to take her other breast. When that made her balance unstable, he braced her feet against the fiberglass wall. Her back rested against the tile, while his hand moved down her belly. He extended his middle finger and slid it between the folds of her sex. She arched against him. Surrendering to the beat in his head, he widened his grip on her and pushed his finger deeper and deeper in. He cupped her entire sex, his middle finger continuing to probe.

Wet and slick. Soft and hot. A molten core. Her heavenly body. Inside… inside. He wanted to split her wide open, to push inside her. The words slipped through his thoughts. Images. Sensations replaced meaning.

He felt her hands fluttering against his back, near the amulet. He felt himself surge forward, the need to join with her trumping all other impulses.

His mind tried to gain a foothold. This was supposed to be a holy merging, a worshipful act, a spell that would heal the Earth. He was descending to the level of simple sex, of the primal need to possess, to join, to procreate.

She was gasping against him, his finger buried deep inside her. She was so tight, so firm. Her inner muscles gripped him in a way that fired his darkest hunger. He pushed his finger deep, then pulled it out, reveling in the wet slide of flesh. He drew his finger up between her folds, up and under the hood. She arched against him, pushing hard against his hand.

She made a sound of hunger. He growled in response. Circling his finger around the center of her pleasure, he plunged two others inside of her. God, she was tight.

Her belly began to tremble. He felt it both inside and out: a clenching, a tensing, a need.

Again he drew his fingers free, using the moisture of her desire to slick her folds, to caress the nub, to open her wider as he rolled his hips against her.

He wanted to be in front. He needed his cock to be where his hand was. "Wider," he murmured, and he used his hands and knees to spread her thighs. "Open for me." As his body moved, so did his fingers. They rotated around her opening, touching, feeling, stroking whatever he could find. Giving pleasure wherever, however he could.

She was crying out—gasps, sobs, even nervous laughter. The sound was what he needed, a female pulse of desire. His mouth descended onto hers. He wanted to own those birdlike sounds. He needed to draw them into himself. He had to have her—now.

His hands shifted and wrapped around her thighs. His tongue was inside her mouth, pushing, plundering, loving. He lifted her legs so he could step between her thighs. And as he did it, she opened as never before—willingly, wantonly, wondrously. She was at her most vulnerable, and he arched his hips. He thrust inside her, as hard and fast and powerful as any beast. And she screamed, but not in ecstasy—in pain. Her back arched away from him, her hands became claws. She tore her mouth from his.

His concentration shattered. He was abruptly Patrick, his swollen sex embedded within a suddenly stilled woman. Xiao Fei's eyes were huge, and she stared at him in shock.

From Patrick Lewis's journal.

September 24, 1991

I went to the beach today. I owed it to Lisa. She died three years ago today. Mom and Dad offered to go with me, but I said no. Jason was there. I knew he would be.

He's not doing the Dark Lord gig anymore. He says he hasn't since that year. We talked about college. I told him I actually like plants now. Go figure.

He's working as an assistant in Hollywood to some big agent, dines on caviar and helps work megamillion-dollar deals. He says he picks up clients that way, so I guess he's still doing the healer tricks. He's on the fast track with the druids, too. In line to be the next Draig.

I knew his dad was sick
—
Mom and Dad told me
—
but I didn't realize he was going to give up as Draig-Athar. Jason's going to be the Draig-Teine. A fire dragon. That suits him, and he's really excited about it
.

He said he was sorry about Lisa, that he thinks about her a lot, that everything was out of control that year. It's better now, he says. And he's going to be the Draig-Teine, so life is good for him.

I said okay. Lisa wouldn't want me to hate him. What happened was just one of those things. It wasn't anybody's fault. The police ruled it accidental right away.

All those things I imagined before were just grief; I see that now. Crazy teenage stuff plus grief. It was an accident
—
a terrible, horrible accident. And Lisa wouldn't want me to hate anybody anyway. Especially not the guy who used to be my best Mend
.

I think I'm going to try surfing again tomorrow.