Finding the Lost Page 27
Her body relaxed beneath him, going soft and pliant. She was still hovering inside his mind, but her presence was faint and content. Her legs were splayed wide, her sex glistening in the moonlight.
If he’d been a better man, he would have moved away and let her rest. But he wasn’t better. He needed her too much. Sweat beaded up on his skin and his muscles were knotted with pain. He had to have her. Now, before she had the chance to deny him.
He kissed his way back up her body, praying she’d understand his need.
“I’m sorry,” he grated out as he aligned his body to fit hers.
She opened her eyes. Paul expected to see shock or maybe even revulsion, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him toward her. His hips moved of their own accord, easing his erection inside her. She was snug, but relaxed, and so wet he slid in without hurting her. Thank God.
His arms shook with restraint as he braced his weight over her body. He was dying to shove deeper and rut inside her, but he held back. “You okay?” he found the strength to ask.
She purred and arched her back so he slid deeper. Paul sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth to stave off his orgasm for just a little longer. As much as he needed to come, he needed to be sure this would not be a one-time thing. It had to be good for her. He had only a few days to prove to her that she couldn’t live without him, and jerking off inside her in thirty seconds flat was not the way to do that.
He stilled his body and concentrated on her face, the smooth curve of her cheek, the soft swell of her mouth, the way her eyelids fluttered when his cock twitched inside her.
“You’re not moving,” she whispered, and tightened her muscles around him.
Paul gasped for air. “I’m trying to hold on to a little control here. You’re not helping.”
“I don’t want your control. I want you.”
“I’d be too rough right now.”
She gave him a sexy, knowing smile. “Rough is nice once in a while.” She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and slid her tongue across it before letting it go. “Besides, I’m tough. I can take it.”
Not only could she take it; she wanted to. He could see the desire shining in her eyes, feel it flickering through their connection.
Paul’s control broke open. He slid from her body and surged back into her again, forcing her to take all of him. Andra’s eyes widened and her pupils dilated as he held himself deep inside her and ground his hips against her.
“Oh, God,” she breathed, and clutched at his ass. “Again.”
He complied, but not because she asked. He had no choice. His instincts were raging now, his body moving hard and fast in response. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he should be doing something else. Kissing her, petting her? He was no longer sure. Nothing mattered but the tight grip of her sex around his cock and the slippery heat forming between them. She was tight and slick, and her body cushioned his thrusts, accepting whatever he gave her.
The base of his spine tightened and sparks formed in his vision. He was close and he wanted her right there with him, plunging over the edge.
Paul forced his way into her mind and let her feel what he was feeling. He channeled his power into her body, stretching the boundaries of their link as hard as he could, forcing her to take more than she ever had before. Andra cried out against the pressure, but he didn’t relent. This was what she wanted—what she needed to help Nika—and he was going to give it to her.
Her body bowed up off the ground, lifting his hips with her. It buried him deep inside her, and Paul was lost, reveling in the feelings of his body and mind as they filled her up. His orgasm grabbed him by the throat and choked the air from his body. He shoved her back to the ground and seated himself to the hilt while his seed shot into her.
Pulses of power filled her in time with those of his body until he could feel her straining against the sensation. It was too much for her, and she followed him, crying out as her climax rocked her hips against his. Her stomach tightened rhythmically and a shimmering light flowed up her arms and out of her fingertips, sinking into the earth.
Slowly, the light faded and silence descended over them. Even the crickets were still. A soft breeze cooled his skin while he struggled to slow his uneven breathing.
He’d had centuries of sex and it had never been like that. Either it had something to do with the connection they shared, or he’d been doing something really wrong for a really long time.
“I think you killed me,” she said. Her voice was hoarse and raspy.
“Maybe, but what a way to go.” Paul eased himself from her body, but didn’t go far. The raw, savage need he’d felt was gone now, but when he looked at her spent, damp body lying there and saw the proof of their union shining on his cock and her thighs, he knew it wouldn’t be gone long. She was his now and he wasn’t going to let her forget it.
“You’re just a bit possessive, huh?” she asked him without opening her eyes.
She’d felt his thoughts. Paul reveled in the knowledge that they were close enough that she could. “Absolutely. I suggest you get used to it.”
A small smile lifted one side of her mouth. “A girl could get used to that kind of sex really fast.”
And just like that, Paul was hard and ready to go again. “It won’t ever be like that with anyone else,” he told her. He sounded harsh, almost angry, but had to let her know he wasn’t replaceable.
She cracked one eye open. “Down, boy. I’m not running off. You can relax.”
No, he couldn’t, but if he didn’t back off, he was going to scare her away or piss her off so badly she’d never let him have her like that again. And that couldn’t happen. He had to get a grip. Fast.
She pushed herself up and looked down between her thighs. A shocked look crossed her face, then faded to distress. “I can’t believe I forgot to make you cover up.”
“Cover up?” He didn’t know what she meant, but she seemed so upset he needed to fix it. Whatever it was.
“You didn’t wear a condom. Please tell me you aren’t suffering from some sort of magical crotch rot.”
Paul blinked, at a total loss. His body was still humming along and his mind had yet to catch up and get its share of blood supply. “Magical what?”
“STDs,” she said, as if he should know what she meant. “You know, venereal diseases.”
Finally, it sank in. “Oh, I get it. Human diseases. No, you don’t have to worry. Our kind doesn’t get sick—at least not like that.”
She held up her hand. “I don’t want to know any more right now. Maybe later.”
“I can’t give you a child, either,” he told her out of obligation. He knew it might mean she left him for a man who could father her children, but he had to take that chance. It was something too big for him to ignore.
She went still and cocked her head to the side. “Are you serious, or are you just saying that so I’ll let you get away without wearing a condom again? Because that ain’t happening.”
“I’d wear a hazmat suit and a tutu if that’s what it takes to get back inside your sweet body. Whatever you want. But I am serious. Our men can’t father children. Something was done to us. We don’t know what, but we’re all sterile now.”
She frowned at that and reached for him. Maybe she’d felt his anger that he’d been robbed of that joy, or maybe something on his face had given him away. He wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, she was stroking his hand as if offering condolences, which he guessed was fitting. The absence of life was nearly as desolate as the loss of it.
“I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not looking to be a mom right now, and with the crazy way my life is, probably not ever, but at least I have a choice. I’m sorry you don’t.”
“Me, too. But that’s old news. No sense dwelling on it. I just thought you should know.”
She was oddly quiet for a moment as she gathered her clothes. When she turned back around, her eyes were bright, as if she’d been staving off tears. “You know, in a way, you’re lucky. You’ll never have to worry that your child will be snatched away from you in the dead of night, or that they’ll come back to you a drooling, terrorized shell of what they once were. You’ll never have to worry whether you’re good enough to keep them safe and protect them from danger. You’ll never have to know the anguish of failing them.”
She was talking about her sister Tori now—the one who’d been taken that night eight years ago. He knew because he’d seen it happen, and felt her guilt over not being strong enough to stop it.
Paul pulled her into his arms because he couldn’t not hold her. She needed him now, and it was his duty—his honor—to give her whatever she needed. “You didn’t fail your sisters,” he told her.
“Yes. I did. I still am failing Nika.”
“Maybe not,” said Paul. “You’re stronger now. We’re stronger now. We can try again.”
She let out a shuddering breath and clung to him with desperate strength. “What if I fail again?”
“Then you do, but you can’t lose hope. I know people who may be able to help her even if we can’t. We’ll do whatever it takes, okay?”
He felt her nod against his cheek. “I’m not sure how much more hope I’ve got in me.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, tightening his hold. “I’ll hope enough for both of us.”
Chapter 15
Prince Eron stood on the balcony overlooking the city below. Frigid wind whipped his long hair about his head and made his eyes sting. The twin moons were both waning. Tomorrow, the gate to Earth would open and he would go through to find his daughters. It would be summer there, if his calendar was correct—the eighth summer since he’d last seen his girls.
Not even a year had passed on Athanasia since the Synestryn attack on his Earth family. Certainly not long enough for him to stop grieving for Celine. To stop missing her with every breath he drew.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind him on the stone floor.
Eron didn’t even need to turn around to see the look of displeasure on his older brother’s face. He could hear it hanging heavy in his voice. “You’re not going,” said Lucien.
“Yes. I am.”
“It’s not safe. It could kill you.”
Anger welled up inside Eron, but he tried to control it. If he were going to survive the trip through the gate, he needed to remain calm and focused. “Not knowing if my daughters are alive or dead is killing me, too.”
“I’ll find them for you and report back. It’s safer that way.”
“What if they need me?”
Lucien’s broad hand settled on Eron’s shoulder. His voice softened with understanding. “That’s the risk we all took when we decided to walk this path. We knew our children would grow up not knowing us. It’s the price we must pay.”
Eron spun around, knocking his half brother’s hand away. His careful control shattered to splinters, gone beyond repair. “My daughters may be dead. None of our brothers have been able to find any trace of them. I need to go back. I need to know.”