Authors: Hanna Martine
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Time Travel
For the first time since she’d arrived here, the thought of returning home came with dread. She had the solid, protective feel of the man’s hand holding hers to thank—to blame?—for that.
They climbed up the stone steps and flew past the Waldgraves’ door. Briefly she wondered if Francine was inside, if she was doing okay. Then William tugged her up higher. They stepped over broken pieces of crockery and ducked beneath laundry lines waving with clothes that would never truly be clean of the New South Wales dirt.
The stairs stopped at a sloped lane, wide enough for a horse and cart, that switchbacked from the top of the Rocks to the bottom. William checked that no one was about, then dashed across the lane to where another set of steps continued straight up the cliffside.
A row of tiny, square homes, only half-built, sat near the top, and he guided her into one of them. Its sandstone walls made jagged horizontal lines against the town. Through the open roof, she could see each and every star as it poked through the night.
Below, the horseshoe of the cove carved a black hole in the center of Sydney Town. The stairs they’d climbed shot straight down into the courtyard, giving them a good view.
“There.” William pointed, his face grim. “We can hide here and watch for Jem’s return.”
Sera slid to the dirt floor, just below a rectangular hole that would become a window. She prayed Jem would come back, and soon. She prayed she hadn’t been the one to send him into danger and to cause such terrible worry on William’s face.
“What is it?” he asked softly, sinking beside her.
She came to her knees before him and touched his face. Ramsesh sang, but the pleasure Sera got from touching him rang even louder. They were two distinct feelings now—a gentle, insistent pulse fed from the cuff, and a louder, more erratic beat that teased her between her legs and sent her heart skipping. And then there was just the feel of him in her hands, the softness of the hair on his cheek, the shape of his chin, the texture of his sun-worn skin.
How could she tell him what she’d sworn to Jem not to repeat, or even think? She’d already upset the boy; she didn’t want to humiliate him in William’s eyes. She didn’t want to make it worse, didn’t want to strain their relationship any more than necessary.
“I, uh…” she began, then her voice dried out.
William sighed. He’d come to his knees, too, and now his hands dropped to her waist. He dipped his head, his eyes finding hers, the emotion behind them going incredibly soft. Powerfully magnetic.
It took nothing more than that, nothing longer than a second or two, for her to be completely swept into his presence. To become wrapped up in it, tied tight with no chance for escape.
To want
more
.
He shifted even closer, his thighs pressing lightly against hers, his mouth hovering so very close.
“You…?” he prompted.
She instantly responded to the hot tease in his voice.
She
did. Though Ramsesh was gleefully prodding her forward, the ethereal woman was in the background, overshadowed. Sera herself was suddenly overtaken by a shivering desire for the man whose quickening breath skated across her face. It was as if she’d been injected with him, and now he swam through her veins, making her high and needy.
“I wanted to tell you,” she whispered, “that even though there are things inside us, souls or spirits or magic or whatever, I think I know what
I
feel now.”
He pressed even closer, and his hardening cock touched her between her legs. “Do you now?”
Her eyelids flickered at the sensation, and her breath stuttered. “I think so.” Her hips made a circle as she rubbed herself against him. It was his turn to groan and she adored the sound.
“This afternoon,” she said, “when you came back to the room, I realized that in the short time you’d been gone, I’d missed you. That I wanted to be with you. And when I listened closer, scared that it was Ramsesh telling me to think that, controlling me, she was silent.”
The tiniest of smiles played at his mouth.
She reached up and ran her thumb across his lower lip, gently pulling it down. Soft and swift, her tongue glided briefly inside his mouth. “It’s me that thinks that,” she murmured. “It’s me that wants you.”
Everything about him went quiet, still.
Then with a low rumble deep in his chest, he crushed her to him. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, thighs to thighs. He angled his head to open her lips and slide his tongue against hers, and she went dizzy. Nearly blacked out. They kissed hard and urgent, their hands groping. They kissed as though a clock were running somewhere, counting down the minutes they had left together.
Maybe that was true.
She didn’t want to think about that now, and tightened her hold on him.
Between them his cock stiffened, trying to push through his pants and her skirt. God, how she’d been dying to feel that. How she’d foolishly tried to make herself believe she hadn’t.
Her hands skimmed his hips and ass, feeling the terrific power in the clench of his muscles—the power he would soon use to push himself inside her the moment nothing came between them.
With great effort she broke the kiss. Cross-eyed with lust, her entire world narrowed down to William. Her eyes locked on his, she whispered, “No more doubt. It’s you and me tonight. No one else.”
His hands cradled her face, and she rubbed her cheeks into the roughness of his palms. His voice turned husky. “You’re certain?”
It took her a moment to realize what he was truly asking her. Though they were linked, their worlds were so different.
“I told you I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re thinking about. You won’t hurt me or anything.”
He frowned, then cleared his throat, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Have you had children then?”
Different worlds…
“Ah. That.” She threaded a hand into the back of his hair, loving the way the curls seemed to find and wrap around her fingers. “No, I haven’t. Because I can’t.”
His eyes widened. “No? You’re sure?”
As sure as a tubal ligation could make her. She’d had so many painful problems since puberty, that the second she got insurance through her secretarial job she’d had surgery to correct them. And then, since she was scared to death of ever becoming her mom, or ever bringing a child of her own into the world, she’d told the surgeon to just go ahead and make infertility permanent.
But all she told William was, “Yes. The doctors told me as much.”
He nodded and kissed her softly, and she noticed that he was shaking. She drew back and searched his face. “How long has it been since you’ve been with a woman?”
The smile that came was severely tilted to one side and gorgeously sheepish. “At least a decade. Forgive me if I’ve forgotten how.”
She wasn’t worried about that. But if it had been over ten years since he’d had sex and he seemed in perfect health, she decided not to worry about the bad things that could come with intercourse in the past.
Besides, the magic in the cuff could help them both, if needed.
She smiled at him, full and warm. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
At that very moment, William Everard was hers and she was his.
Holding her gaze, his hands slid from her face down her neck. They dragged lightly over her collarbone, making her back arch as they covered her breasts with heat and exquisite pressure. Her head lolled back, eyes closing so all she could do was
feel
. He lingered in the center of her body, hands spanning her ribs, thumbs rubbing teasingly over her hard nipples. The rough fabric of her blouse only heightened the sensation.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
When her eyelids fluttered open, she wondered how she could ever again look away from what she saw on his face: soul-clutching desire. Agonizing need.
Love.
Yes, that was what she saw.
She gasped. As much from the shock at seeing it in him as the realization that there was the kindling of something similar deep inside herself.
“Sera.” That voice, that accent. He gave her a tiny, chaste kiss. “No doubts. Just us.”
When he slowly started to pull her blouse from her skirt, she almost cried in relief. Nearly every moment since she’d laid eyes on him had been an awful study in control. To finally let go of that, to release the ties that bound her to doubt and anxiety and fear, gave her such a complete sense of joy.
He popped open the buttons of her blouse, starting at the bottom. He worked smoothly, deftly, his eyes never leaving hers, until he’d bared a strip of flesh down her center. Only then did he look down.
Sinking back onto his heels, he pushed her blouse off her shoulders and used it to trap her arms at her sides. She stared down at him, in awe over the hunger that painted the most amazing expression on his face.
“So beautiful,” he said, before leaning forward and closing his lips around one of her nipples. The shock of the wet, wonderful sensation made her legs weak, her support wobbling.
He held her up, and in more ways than one.
His mouth opened and closed, his tongue dragging over the small hardened peak. He kissed her there as passionately as he’d kissed her mouth. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, he pulled back. The sudden cessation of feeling had her gasping for air. Then he switched sides.
Arms still immobile, she couldn’t drop to the ground in surrender. She couldn’t touch him. She could only beg.
“Please.
Please
.”
William’s eyes squeezed shut and he shuddered, pulling off her. At last he completely stripped off her blouse and threw it to the ground. He rose to his knees again and met her face to face. No part of their bodies now touched. The air swept cool between them and the void stung.
“Please?” A sinful quirk bent his lips. “What exactly do you want?”
A deep sexual hunger flashed in his eyes, enhanced by that other emotion she’d marked earlier. Brilliant as a jewel. Rare and pure.
She forgot where she was. She forget
when
she was. This man had altered how she viewed the past and approached the present. He had, unknowingly, mapped out her future.
He was timeless.
“I want
you
, William. All of you.”
“Oh, Sera.” Her name on his lips vibrated in her blood. “Didn’t you already know? You have me.”
At last he touched her again, his fingers tickling her belly where they plucked at her skirt ties. He moved too slowly. Desperation took over and she slapped his hand away to yank at the various strings herself. Amusement lighted his face until the hated skirt billowed in a circle around her knees.
For once, she didn’t mind a man’s possessive stare. She relished the way his gaze roved over her, like a starving man facing a fine meal. He was still fully clothed and it heightened her arousal to be so exposed when he wasn’t. She was offering herself to him, in every way possible.
Sliding one arm around her shoulders and another around her waist, he pulled her naked body flush against him. The roughness of his shirt and pants scraped against her bare skin and there was something wonderful about that feeling. When he leaned in to kiss her, he aimed for the sensitive slope of skin stretching from shoulder to ear. As his tongue made a wet, hot trail beneath her hair, the hand at her waist dipped down around her ass.
She parted her legs. Slow, like silk, he slipped a finger inside her. No hesitation, as if he already knew she’d gone liquid for him. A high sound escaped her throat. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she moaned into his skin in the same rhythm as his inner strokes. Her thighs quivered around his hand, his quickened breath hissed in her ear.
It wasn’t enough. She was beginning to think that with him, nothing ever would be.
Her hands dove between their bodies. She fumbled with the knot of his pants, her blind need practically scraping skin from her fingertips. Finally the knot came apart and his pants crumpled to the ground. His fingers drew out of her and slid up her wetness, eliciting from her simultaneous sounds of pleasure and disappointment.
He grabbed his shirt at the back of his neck and pulled it forward over his head. Moonlight dappled his torso, so lean and strong. She dragged a hand down his chest, watching his pale skin pebble. When her touch grazed the gunshot scar, his breath hitched, eyebrows drawing together. The worry and fear that surrounded the nature of his wound started to creep back into his eyes, and she refused to let that happen. Not now. Not when they were alone and naked and so close.
She closed her fingers around his hard length and gave him a smooth, tight glide.
The next second he had her on her back, stretched out across their discarded clothing, his body hovering between her legs. Just like that night by the river when they’d first realized what—and who—was inside them. Only this time there were no barriers.
She hooked her ankles around his calves, circling her hips up and up. He held back, his arms trembling. He covered her mouth with his, a long passionate kiss that stole her breath and made her body writhe. The tip of him rubbed against where she most wanted him to be, but he wouldn’t lower himself.
Instead he bent his head and whispered into her ear, “What I feel for you is far stronger than Amonteh.”