Velvet Haven (35 page)

“Kiss me.” He reached for the back of her head, fisted his hand in her long, tangled hair, and brought her mouth down to his. But she took over, and instead of pressing her lips to his, she flicked her tongue along his lips.

She repeated the movement, but this time she swirled her nipples against the width of his chest. Again her tongue crept out, but he tricked her and met her tongue with the tip of his.

Slowly, erotically, their tongues touched in curling flicks, reminding him of the way her tongue had licked its way up his cock. As he gazed up into her eyes, Bran felt her hips shifting, rocking against his shaft, her pussy trying to find its way to him. He reached down between their bodies and stroked himself, rubbing the head of his erection against her sex, which was hot and wet. The slick head found her clitoris and her eyes flared, deepening to black as he circled the erect nub with his cock.

Now fully ensnared in her trance, he wet his lips and cupped his hand around her head. His fingers tangled in her hair, he brought her forward, crushing his mouth against hers. Like the animal he was, Bran broke the kiss and fitted his hands around her waist, lifting her up, bringing her breasts to his mouth. Hungrily he took from her, suckling her—starving for her.

His hand moved between their bodies, as she writhed atop him, her moans filling the room. He reached for his cock, brought it to her opening. She sank down fast and hard, taking him all the way in her tight cunt, which squeezed him like a choking fist.

He groaned, clasped her hips in his palms, and showed her the rhythm he wanted, a slow, writhing dance of seduction. He wanted to last, didn’t want to spill inside her after a handful of strokes. He wanted to be inside her all night.

He was watching her. Mairi knew it, even though her eyes were closed. She could feel the heat of his beautiful gaze traveling along her body as she hovered over him. She was in a shaft of moonlight, and she knew that the silver glow gave a luminescence to her body. She could literally feel his desire coursing along her skin where he touched her.

“You look so good riding my cock,
muirnin
.”

Her body hummed. His words were so arousing, just like the incredible vibrations from his big hands, which were roving up her hips. She felt his gaze burning her nipples, and knew then that he was watching the sway and bounce of her breasts. Suddenly he covered them with his hands, and she opened her eyes to see how they spilled out of his palms.

“I like the way you feel, big and strong between my thighs. You make me feel wild.” With a smile she tossed back her head and listened to the harshness of his breaths as she leaned back, giving him a full view of her undulating body. She writhed and moaned on top of him. “Harder, Bran. I want to feel you go deeper inside me—so deep,” she moaned.

He surged upward, filling her full. “You fuck like a nymph,” he said, his voice now a low growl in the dark. “A beautiful seductress, sucking the life out of me. It is a torture I’d willingly die for. But you know that, don’t you?”

His words broke her heart. He truly believed that she would take his life. She tried to show him with her body how she felt. Tried to make him see that it was her love for him, and not some curse, that made her desire him.

“You have no need for nymphs,” she whispered as she bent to kiss his nipple. “You have me. No one can love this body better than me, Bran. No one can love you, as you are, more than I do.”

He moaned, reached for her hips, and thrust deeper into her.

The bed was rocking with his thrusts. Mairi rode her lover harder and harder, and still he wanted more. When she grew tired, and her thighs burned, he helped her, thrusting his hips up, filling her impossibly farther and deeper, unrelenting in his strokes until she was sweating.

And then, knowing she was so close, he found her clitoris and stroked it, pulled at it, until she screamed and stiffened, but he kept thrusting into her, and her body took him, until he stiffened, pulled her roughly down to his damp chest.

“I am your slave,” he moaned as he came hot and hard, pulsing heavily inside her. “Do with me what you will.”

“I want you to submit to me,” she whispered, kissing his mouth.

“Yes,
muirnin
. For you, anything.”

Rolling off of him, she pulled out the iron manacles. She couldn’t believe he was going to let her do this. She could not look into his beautiful mismatched eyes. She knew if she did, she could never go through with her plan.

“You may use my feathers, Mairi.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she ignored it, knowing she was doing the right thing. “You’re so strong. How could I feel like you’re at my mercy wrapped in feathers?”

“You don’t need chains to have me at your mercy. Can you not feel how weak I am now? I’m yours to do anything you want with.”

“This is how I want it. Now roll over.”

He turned onto his stomach. She straddled him and he looked up at her unblinkingly.

Her heart felt heavy, and she kissed him. “I love you, Bran. Believe that.” With a click, she manacled his wrists.

Bran was on his belly, his wrists manacled. He was sweating, knowing what would come. He felt Mairi straddle him, her wet core dampening his skin. She licked away the rivulet of sweat, and his body strained, his wrists tugging at his bonds. Her tongue was flicking along the tattoo of the sword on his back, and he felt his curse grip him even tighter.

He wanted her again. Her sweet, wet cunt that was teasing him. She licked him, and he arched, trying to connect once more with her tongue. Beneath her, his ass flexed, rising up hard between her thighs to nestle between the folds of her sex.

He moaned as the heat from her core swamped his skin, coating him with her own arousal. Tormenting him more, she dragged her nipples along his back, scraping the pointed tips over his skin as her tongue flicked up his spine in teasing, insinuating lashes. He was shackled, his wrists in black manacles, his fingers curled into fists. On his left hand he wore a ring that bore an oval stone, the color of fire. It was the seal of the king of Annwyn. With her lips and teeth she pulled it from him, allowing him to feel her mouth wrapped around his finger. She sucked it, torturing him. He wanted that mouth on his cock, sucking him in deep, drinking him down.

“I can’t wait,” he said in a voice that sounded intoxicated with lust. She didn’t answer him, and he growled, pulling at his bonds. “Let me taste you one last time,” he begged. Inside him a fever raged. She rocked her sex against his ass. She was wet. He groaned and shifted, the manacles straining with his immense strength.

“Once more. Let me you feel you again.”

“You are too impatient,” she whispered in his ear.

“I would feel you
now
,” he growled, a sound that made her shiver, which he felt all over his body.

“All right.” Reaching between his thighs, she teased him until he lifted his hips from the bed. He wanted her to reach for his cock. Instead, she reached for something just as hard. Her breasts scraped against his back and he closed his eyes, tortured by the feel of the hard nipples moving along his flesh. She reached over his shoulder, saw her fingers curl around the hilt of the athame. Her body shifted; the petals of her sex caressed his skin. He inhaled her scent, let it wash over him, just like he had done when he had picked the flowers by the reflecting pool. She lifted the athame high in the air. When he turned his head to look up at her through strands of damp, black hair, he felt his entire life force stop, then hang by a thread.

“After all this?” he murmured. “After everything we’ve done, you would betray me now? Why,
muirnin
?”

Mairi’s grip on the athame faltered. This was her dream. Down to the very last detail.

She was breathing heavily, knowing what would come next. Tears trickled down her face and she squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see him.

“Mairi?”

She didn’t answer him, but her eyelids flew open and she held his gaze as she plunged the blade of the athame deep between his shoulders. Using all her weight she shoved the blade deeper, feeling it tear through muscle and connective tissue, scraping between two ribs to puncture the tough tissue of his heart.

She heard Morgan’s voice whisper in her ear, “In a house of mourning, a garden of pain, a path of tears, you will find him.”

“No riddles,” Mairi screamed, but Bran’s cry of agony deafened her to Morgan’s answer.

With a flash it was dark and she felt the familiar veil flutter down, covering her body.

Rain poured down on them and Bran opened his eyes to the sounds of Mairi’s scream. They were on the ground, in a grove. In Nemed, his sacred space. Back home. In Annwyn.

Rain fell onto his face, and he wiped his wet hair from his eyes. His wrists. They were freed. Pulling himself up, he saw Mairi lying next to him, writhing in pain. Blood pooled beneath her. There was so much of it that the rain could not wash it away.

“Mairi,” he cried, reaching for her, cradling her in his arms. “What have you done?”

“Saved you . . . from Morgan’s curse,” she said between harsh breaths. “You’re free now . . . Your brother is free . . . I know where to find him. He’s—”

“Shh,” he whispered, holding her closer. “Why did you do this?”

“To break the curse and . . . and save your brother. The thing you want most in this world.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he held her closer, melding her body into his. “You’re wrong,” he whispered. “You are what I want most in life.”

She smiled, a weak one, and raised a shaking hand to his face. “I love you.”

His eyes stung, as tears mixed with the rain. “What can I do? How do I fix you?”

“Can’t.” She gasped as another pain overtook her and her vision dimmed. “Just hold me.”

“No!”
he said, his voice panicked. “No, there must be something. Mairi, open your eyes, damn you.
Now
—open—”