Undying Hope (16 page)

Then she understood his anger. She lightly touched the side of his face with the tips of her fingers. The way he phrased it made her tingle down to her toes. He wasn’t putting the responsibility of their survival squarely on his broad shoulders.

“Maybe not,” she murmured. “But I don’t want to think about Mason.” She went into the apartment. “Can you start a fire in the fireplace?”

“Haven…”

She moved farther into the living room and turned to face him. “I don’t care if you’re having visions of your own harem dancer or you actually understand what my dancing is for me. You didn’t question me, and you didn’t act like it was your God given right to control me just because you have a penis and I don’t.” She bit the corner of her lip and wrung her hands together. “I do get the difference between a good relationship and bad one. I want to focus on what could be the most fantastic relationship of my life instead of the one that nearly destroyed me.”

* * * *

Donovan went to the stack of wood near the fireplace and started arranging logs in the large stone structure. It was counterproductive to think about Mason. The knowledge that some animal had abused his mate exploded like a grenade in his gut.

He needed to pull himself out of this tailspin, or he’d end up pissing off Haven in the worst way. There were enough complications. He could already feel the building need to change her into an Undying so he’d never lose her. It wasn’t something he wanted to risk, and the more he learned about his mate, the more desperate his need to keep her safe. He shook it off with a growl as he lit the logs to flame the easy way—with magic. He cocked his head. She set up a cozy nest out of pillows and blankets next to the fire place big enough for two.

Donovan realized he needed to let go of micromanaging everything. There were powerful men out there patrolling the area around the building. The Cadfaels of other regions had been brought in. His brothers and the other Cadens were close. He and Haven were as safe as the Undying could make them, and he needed to let that be enough.

He could not wait to see what his woman looked like in nothing but her hair. More than the fire was making him hot as she returned. He pulled off his shirt in reaction and tossed it on the back of the recliner.

She bit the tip of her tongue and then grinned at him. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” She went to the coffee table where he left the food and set down a pair of plates, utensils, two goblets, and a bottle of wine. When she was facing him again, her gaze moved over his torso. Heat flushed her cheeks. “You sit first.”

He lowered his tone. “Anything else need to come off first?”

Her head canted to the side as she assessed the length of him. “Lose the boots.” Her eyes met his. “We’ll start there.”

He sauntered over to the recliner and sat down to take off his boots slowly. He never took his gaze from her face. Then he stood up and tipped his head toward the spot she’d made for them next to the fireplace. “And you want me there.”

“Yes.”

“Where are you going to be?”

“Just sit.” A mysterious smile curved her mouth before she hesitantly went for the bag of food and wine on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back. Just—stay there.”

He enjoyed the sway of her hips as she walked away from him while he stretched out on the floor, propped up by the pillows she’d arranged. He wasn’t sure if it was for his comfort or hers. His body wound tight with anticipation.

“You’ve done this before,”
Treòir
intoned. “
Why is this taking so long?”

Donovan dragged a hand over his face and ignored his power. It didn’t need to know anything about how to make love to a woman. Besides, he had more important things to worry about.

What the hell was taking
her
so long?

He wanted her. More than he’d ever wanted to be with another woman. If she hadn’t instructed him to stay, he’d be up prowling the apartment looking for her. She’d be back. Her intentions vibrated through the penthouse. The woman wanted him.

Before he could let his thoughts pull him away from where his focus was supposed to be, the lights went out. His head jerked to the door between the dining room and living room. He hadn’t heard her come back. The lapse of total awareness of his surroundings was totally lost to the sight before him.

There, illuminated by the flicking firelight as it danced and played off the metal surfaces of the weapons hanging on the walls, was Haven. Gone was the teeny shirt that barred him from viewing her slender ribcage. Gone were the pants hiding the exquisite shape of her legs. Her feet were tiny, sexy as hell, and bare. The only scrap of fabric on her body was a wisp of silk and lace between her legs, held on by a flimsy bit of string. Her glorious hair hung down around her, concealing the shape of her body and keeping all but the tiniest peek of her magnificent rounded breasts hidden from his view.

He groaned.

Sweet mother of Oberon! He’d died and somehow managed to find himself in heaven. “Haven?” It wasn’t his voice rasping out—or was it?

She padded closer a step. “I—I thought we could start with dessert.”

He rose off the floor and walked the distance between them. The tips of his fingers skimmed along her shoulders before he shoved her hair back, revealing those perfect breasts. His head lowered to let his lips trace along her jaw line just before his mouth savagely took hers, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be embedded inside her. With one swift motion he scooped her up into his arms, carried her over to the blankets, and laid her down. He moved his gaze over her body as he followed her. Breaths tore out of him in ragged gasps as he fought to control the burning hunger breaking him apart. Then he was on her. He didn’t leave any part of her body untouched. Her body arched up to eagerly meet him. Her hands branded his skin as they moved feather light across his flesh.

“Need to be inside of you.” He groaned the words. A heartbeat later, he managed to extract her from the panties without shredding the delicate fabric. Getting his own pants off hadn’t fared as well for the leather belt or denim. He froze over her. How he’d found a smidgen of control he didn’t know he had, but he was glad for it. She needed gentle. By Oberon’s eternal fire he was going to find it for her. He’d lose his sanity if she kept touching him like this. With a deft move, he pinned her arms above her head with one hand. “Don’t…touch,” he gritted out between tastes of her mouth. “Can’t…handle it.” His free hand slid over her breasts, down her belly, and to the soft, damp mound at the apex of her legs. “Need you”—his mouth teased a taught nipple—“to come.”

Her back arched as he slipped a finger deep in her core. The sound of her pleasure filled his ears and nearly had him coming right then. He shoved another finger inside of her. Her moan turned ragged. He found the sensitized nub in the folds of her sex and flicked the pad of his thumb over it. He let go of her wrists to sit back on his heels to watch her body as she moved to his rhythm in the firelight.

One of her hands fisted in the pillow beside her head, the other in the blanket under her. Her body rippled as she tightened around his fingers.

He used that moment to slide an arm under her hips and position her right at the angle he wanted her in. He used a knee to push her legs farther apart and then impaled her.

The moment her climax shattered through her, Haven’s mind brushed against his. He was powerless to stop their consciousnesses from sliding into each other. Donovan felt every mind numbing, sweetly erotic moment of her climax. The shockwaves quivered through them both. His gaze locked onto hers as he sank into her body.

“Haven,” he rasped out. His body stilled.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, cradling his hips against hers. One of his hands cupped the back of her head and the other the side of her face. His breathing came out in harsh gasps.

“Let it go,” she whispered.

“Can’t.” Sweat beaded on his brow, his forearms, and along his spine. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

Her breath caressed along his throat. It was too much of his energy all at once. There was no way she’d be able to survive. Hell! There was no way he was going to survive the essence of Haven tingling along his insides. He’d never felt a woman the way he was feeling her. He’d never given a woman so much of himself. He couldn’t keep holding himself back, but he was afraid of what it would do to her. She was so tiny and delicate and perfect. He didn’t want anything to cause her pain.

“I want all of you.”

The strength he had snapped. He held onto her as tightly as he dared. His body surged into hers. With each thrust, he brought them both closer to shattering and then bound them tighter together again. She seeped into his bones. He knew everything about this woman there was to know. He feared what such a complete and full knowledge of him would do to her. He couldn’t stop himself, and it terrified him.

There was that one tortured moment when everything that made up both of them was going to be suspended in that one second of time where, if something didn’t explode, they would both perish. Then sweet release ripped through them in a shattering wave of excellence.

Her scream of pleasure lingered in the air.

Donovan was lucid enough to roll to the side before his arms gave out. He puffed for what felt like an eternity, trying to regain his breath. He turned onto his back and pulled Haven up on top of him. It took up the last of the energy he had. Her body was damp and limp above him. “Haven?”

She made a soft, purring sound. “Yeah?”

His jaw worked. They were connected. No longer inside of each other—but still blissfully connected. He relaxed some. “What the hell did you do to me?”

Her head drooped to the side. “The same thing you did to me, I hope.”

His arm tightened around her. “You still okay with being trapped with me forever?”

She stuck her tongue out at him and then snuggled in against his chest. “If you don’t know what kind of wonderful man you are after living with yourself for the last twenty-five hundred years, I’m not going to tell you.”

He barked out a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She kissed his chest. “Fabulous. Now, if you don’t mind, I am quite enjoying being all cuddly with you like this. Don’t ruin it by worrying. We can analyze it after I wake up.”

He found the strength needed to lightly run the tips of his fingers along the column of her spine. “Rest, my sweet Haven.”

Within moments, her breathing evened out as her body fully relaxed in his arms. The power of his
treòir
settled around them both in a warm buzz of happy energy. Donovan slipped into sleep without remembering to do a perimeter check.

Donovan slowly came aware of his surroundings. The fire reduced to glowing embers. Spears of waxing sunlight filtered into the room through slits between the fabric adorning the windows. Nikon’s soft snoring was the only sound in the room. Haven’s earthy, sweet scent was all around him. Her hair draped over his chest, wrapping him in a softness he adored. Her warm body still snuggled against him.

He felt…rested. The weariness he’d felt bone deep was gone. He shifted into a half-upright position careful not to disturb the woman sleeping on top of him. His arm banded tightly around her as a fierce and lethal protectiveness invaded every molecule of his being.

This much he was expecting, but their joining had been different. Something was unusual. There was supposed to be an intensity, but they’d collided with mind-to-mind contact. All the bits and tendrils for either of them weren’t all back in exactly the right places they belonged. He could feel her essence inside of him. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant—it actually felt damn good. He’d known his parents were always linked at some level, but he wasn’t sure if the inability to disconnect from her was natural.

He needed to contact Riordan. He’d have the answers Donovan wanted. With a quick glance at the wall clock, he sighed. Dawn barely broke the horizon. Nadia wouldn’t be happy with this early of an intrusion. Too bad. She’d have to deal.

“Riordan?”

“Everything all right?”
The reply was quick, almost as if he’d been waiting for Donovan to contact him.

“Something…weird happened last night.”
He explained as much as he knew Haven would be comfortable giving another male.

“It might be normal for you, since you’re the Cadeyrn,”
Riordan said after several moments. “
But you know the guidelines. If it doesn’t feel evil, then it’s probably not.”

Oberon’s blood! He never could do anything the easy way, now could he?

“You’re sure you’ve never encountered this with another bonding? Maybe Kenneth mentioned something before the time-shift?”
Kenneth was the first Wolf Healer of the Undying. His age easily doubled Donovan’s.
Something like this had to have happened before. However if there was anyone left alive who would remember or could explain it was another question.

“I have to check my journals. If he did mention something, it will take a while to find,
” Riordan said.

“All right.”
Donovan ended the connection. Not all of Riordan’s journals survived into this time. A good portion of them were preserved in Brogan’s dragon cave, but not all of them.

Haven made a soft moaning sound. Her skin glided against his as she stretched. One of her eyes opened and then the other. A smile graced her face. “It’s already morning?”

“Aye.” He tried to keep the gravel note out of his voice. Hell. He wanted her, but he wasn’t sure sex was the best action to take until he figured out what was going on between them. Connection was good. The inability to completely disconnect might not be.

Her bottom lip poked out in a pout. “Can’t you ban morning when I want to stay here with you—just like this for a little while longer?”

He rested his cheek on the top of her head. Haven’s body next to his was heaven and hell. When he should be figuring out Mason and the unusual bond he’d forged with her, he was content to stay next to her. “I can’t stop the sun from coming up.”