Sorceress of Faith (36 page)

An
aroused man.

Her
insides began to tremble as her body readied for him. No need to suppress
logical thought patterns now—they were gone. Memories whirled through her of
his hands, his lips, the sound of his low groan as he climaxed. She wanted it
all again. More and longer.

She
wanted to glide her hands over his firm muscles, feel the teasing prickle of
his body hair. She wanted him over her and in her.

So
she held out her hand, but he stepped past her. Half turning, she saw him place
his palm against the door A maroon light flared around his fingers as he
crooned, “Private and special, softly keep this place for us alone.”

That
Song was a tune that repeated again and again in her mind as he came to her,
smiling.

Eyes
locked on hers, he took her hands, lifted one to his lips, turned it over and
pressed a tingling kiss into her palm, then did the same with the other. He
loosed her hands and her fingers curled inward, to hold his tender kisses.

His
palms curled around her shoulders as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead,
then her eyes closed as he touched his lips to each eyelid. He was undoing her,
utterly. Nothing in the universe mattered save him, his soft mouth, his gentle
wooing of her. She didn’t even care that he comprised her world. No warning
alarms rang in her head. Only the deep languid feelings stirring inside her
were important. Only the yearning that would coil tightly, demanding to be
assuaged.

Her
eyes opened again as he kissed the tip of her nose, brushed her lips with his.
All so reverent, as if he was cherishing her. Her breath left on a moan.

She
raised her own hands, placed them on his face, felt the elegant bones beneath
his skin, saw the shadows under his eyes that grief had painted. Yet nothing in
his touch, in his bearing, in his Song reverberated with grief and she was glad
she gave him surcease from that emotion. She stroked his lean jaw, slid her
thumbs over his full lips. Lips she had to taste. She tilted her head and drew
his mouth to hers.

The
meeting of their lips was the most exquisite thing she’d ever felt. Promising.
Infinitely promising. She could believe anything with his mouth against hers.
Feel everything. She opened her lips, feathered her tongue across his lips,
savored his taste of wild forest herbs, of wind, of man, bringing it into her
to keep.

His
tongue followed suit, traced his taste over her lips, relished her, then
plunged into her mouth, penetrating, exploring, as if all her essence could be
learned from this kiss.

He
broke the embrace and stepped back, his eyes dark, his face taut with passion,
his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. When he raised his hands they
trembled, and he met her eyes and laughed. “What you do to me, Lady. Beauty—of
heart, of mind, of body, of
Song
. I have never heard such a compelling
Song.” Fisting his hands as if checking they still obeyed him, he crushed the
fabric of her dress at her shoulders, then lifted the gown from her, tossing it
aside to lie like an emerald shadow.

A
raspy noise caught in his throat as he studied her. He shook his head.
“Exotique. Who knew such splendor existed—pale skin, red, red hair, nipples the
color of—” Again the groan and head shake. “Beyond any Lladranan delights.”

Frowning,
he said, “What happened to that—that garment which molds your breasts?”

She
felt herself blush, and since it started above her breasts he watched with
interest. “My bra?” She nodded to the gown. “It’s in a pocket of my gown.”

“Yet
you wear the lower piece that emphasizes your femininity.”

It
was nothing more than a pair of high-cut panties.

Jaquar
shuddered. “You’d best hurry and bathe. I have already done so. I can’t stand
the wait for you much longer.”

She
shucked her panties, scanned the tile for puddles and avoided his tracks as she
hurried to the pool. She decided it was long and deep enough for a flat dive.
The Marshalls did themselves proud.

The
water—warm and gliding silkily against her skin—full of herbs, she guessed. Her
fingers touched the bench jutting from the pool wall and she surfaced. She
shook her head to fling her hair from her eyes and glanced around.

Jaquar
slowly walked to the pool. She thought she could see the heat of desire
emanating from him in the steam.

Marian
ducked under, then bobbed back up. She wanted to soak her bruised body—later.
She spied a dish of soaps, grabbed the first one and began a scrub. She’d just
done her hair when Jaquar put his hands under her arms and drew her from the
water.

She
gasped, but before she could protest, he was washing her thoroughly. She moaned
and hung on to him as his slick hands caressed her, massaging her breasts until
all she could hear was her own panting. He was relentless, sliding his hands
over the curve of her hips and belly, up and down her legs. His fingers delved
between her thighs, exquisitely, knowledgeably. Her balance wavered.

Her
vision dimmed, but her sense of smell heightened. The fragrance of the soap
rose to her nostrils—aloe and something sharper that reminded her of deserts
more than green Lladrana. It mixed with a luxurious scent that she realized
with a touch of self-consciousness was her own arousal. Then there was Jaquar’s
natural scent, and his own musky arousal. She whimpered as the combination blew
through her like a scouring wind, hollowing so she could be filled with
something else, something new.

And
filled with man.

She
swayed toward him.

His
hands were strong around her waist. “Take a breath. I’ll rinse you, then…then…”

She
closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“By
the Song, your
breasts
…” he murmured. She was raised, then lowered
gently into the water that lapped against the soles of her feet, causing her
toes to curl. The water flowed up her calves to her knees, to her thighs. Then
it warmed her sex, and she shuddered, she was so aroused. He slipped her
farther into the pool until her breasts floated, nipples tight, and she began
to moan.

“Breathe!”
he warned.

She
shut her mouth. The water caressed her neck, rose over her face, tingled her
scalp as her hair spread out.

He
smoothed his hands up her body under the water and she could do nothing but
twist under his touch. His fingers untangled her hair, then he caught her under
her arms and pulled her out of the water.

Releasing
her breath in a puff, she finally opened her eyes to see his face taut, and a flush
on his skin that affected her even more. She
needed
him.

The
cool air evaporating the water on her contrasted with her heated blood, coiling
her arousal tighter. She’d never been so aware of her entire body, and the
throbbing of her sex.

Then
he settled her on a soft, fluffy bathsheet, big enough to hold them both. One
of his hands curved around the back of her neck, bringing her lips close for
his kiss. He plunged his cool tongue into her mouth as he angled his body over
hers, slipping his knees between her thighs. The roughened brush of his body
hair against her sensitized skin had her arching to meet him, welcome him.

He
thrust into her, long, deep, powerfully.

She
sucked on his tongue, stared into his eyes. He withdrew slightly, lunged again,
and she shattered into bliss.

He
groaned and followed.

Their
Songs merged, took from each other, gave to each other.

Changed
them both.

Marian
felt enveloped by him. His warmth surrounded her, and the exotic fragrance of
bath and sex whirled around her. Time slowed.

Finally,
he lifted his head and his gaze was as piercing as ever.

She
outlined his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb, chuckled. “You are back to
thinking, Jaquar?”

He
opened his mouth, hesitated, cleared his throat. “
You
can talk.” He set
his brow against hers. “I’m going to roll us over into the pool for a quick
cleansing.”

“I
don’t think—”

The
water slid over them. They didn’t hit the bench as she’d feared. Nor did they
separate. Jaquar kicked, found his feet, and his hands slid to cup her bottom,
entering her.

He
flexed his muscles,
all
of his muscles, and Marian began the spiraling
climb to the center of the storm once more.

“What’s
going on in there? Open up now!” a woman shouted from outside the door, banging
on it.

Jaquar
jerked, withdrew. He grasped her hand and pulled her to the corner stairs
leading out of the pool.

“Don’t
make us use our batons to get in,” threatened the woman. She sounded like an
angry parent scolding unruly children.

Marian
couldn’t help herself, she laughed.

There
was silence, then a more subdued shout. “I don’t recognize you.”

“It’s
Exotique Marian and Circlet Jaquar,” Jaquar said coolly, taking a large
terry-clothlike robe in midnight blue from a hook on one of the pillars. He
wrapped himself in it, then brought another to Marian. It was purple.

Surely
this was Alexa’s robe.

It
was too long for Alexa. It was
Marian’s
robe. She was so bemused by the
startling color and its very presence that she allowed Jaquar to help her on
with it. He stood behind her, overlapped the front and tied the belt in a loose
knot, then brought her back against him.

He
felt hard and solid and wonderful. His breath was sweet and warm next to her
ear. Tenderness flowed from him.

“Ahem,”
rumbled a male outside the door. “These
are
the Marshalls’ baths. And
we
are the Marshalls, yet the door is warded for privacy against us. Do you think
you could finish up quickly in there? Training took place in mud fields today.”

“Quickly?”
whispered Jaquar. “I think not—not this next time.”

Heat
washed over Marian. “We’re coming out. Jaquar, can you dismiss the ward?”

He
heaved a sigh. “If I must.” With a wicked grin, he continued, “Our loving will
be better in bed, anyway.”

Heavens.
An-
ti
-ci-pa-tion. Marian swallowed, fiddled with adjusting her robe. She
hoped they didn’t look as if they had had hot and sweaty sex, since they
hadn’t. It had been more like hot,
wet
, slippery sex. On the other hand,
it was probably too late to impress the Marshalls. The damage of this little
scene was already done.

On
his way to the door, Jaquar picked up her panties and put them in his pocket.

“I
want those!” Marian demanded.

He
shrugged, rolled their clothes together and tucked them under his arm. He
touched the door with one finger. “Open.”

“Thank
you,” the man outside muttered.

Jaquar
stood aside and people swept in. The first was a huge man, already shirtless
and showing a massive chest covered with scars. Another was a stately woman
with narrowed eyes.

Marian
dipped in a little curtsy. “Salutations.”

“Salutations,”
the woman said. “And to you, Jaquar.”

He
inclined his head to the group, “Swordmarshall Thealia.”

Some
moved to opposite sides of the room and behind openings Marian hadn’t noticed.
Dressing rooms?

Jaquar
caught Marian’s hand in his own. He smiled charmingly at Thealia. “Sorry to
delay you. We rode the lightning tonight and got quite dirty.”

Those
who were still in the main bathroom froze.

Thealia
opened her mouth, hesitated, then shook her head and waved toward the door. “We
have business to discuss. Depart.”

“Of
course,” Jaquar said. Tugging slightly on Marian, he led her away.

After
he shut the door, he waited for a moment, and Marian heard the rise of excited
voices.

Jaquar
smiled in satisfaction. “That will give them something to talk about.”

Tucking
her hand in the crook of his arm, he led her to their suite under Alexa’s
rooms. This door, too, he warded for privacy, and Marian watched him and knew
she’d learned enough to do the little whistle spell herself.

He
came back to her and put his hands on her shoulders, rested his brow on hers.
“In the baths, I was too aroused to think. But I want our coming together to be
sharing and mutual pleasure, Marian. An act of conscious decision. Sleep with
me,” he said unsteadily. “More, take me into you and merge with me and hold me
and rock me to infinite Song.” He removed her robe in a quick sweeping
movement. “As I will do for you in return.”

She’d
never believed a person could talk too much, but Jaquar certainly was doing so.
What was that old movie line? “Shut up, you fool, and take me to bed.” Worked
for her.

He
grinned, and laughter rolled from him. He swung her up into his arms.

22

J
aquar didn’t
sleep well. All he wanted to do was forget himself in Marian’s tight body. But
he had to speak to Bastien. Once the Marshalls agreed to the new plan to
assault the Dark, Marian would be completely safe. As it was, he was certain he
had a couple of days before Chalmon and Venetria would act. Chalmon might have
derided the Marshalls when it came to making speedy decisions, but most
Circlets were even slower. And Chalmon and Venetria alone could not Send
Marian; they would have to convince others to help. That, too, took time, and
Jaquar had heard no rumblings.