Concentric Circles (4 page)

Meekal’s hand brushed a stray lock away from her cheek, and then lost its way within her fullness. “I never believed it could be real. I’ve always seen it right there in front of me. Never believed.”

She ducked, hiding the heated blush that raced across her cheeks.

Fingers entwined, they walked to the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey. Neither spoke, instead, allowing a sense of anticipation to wash over them.

Shayla smiled to herself over the new sensations experienced from their simple joining.

Together, they entered the grounds from the west.

Meekal guided them around a broken wall. “The fee to get into the Abbey actually keeps the number of visitors down. I have permission to come through anytime.”

The Abbey’s remains spread before them in broken majesty. Shayla pulled in a deep breath, and scanned the landscaped lawns. “Pictures don't do it justice,” she said. “I have several screen savers on my computer. But being here is an astounding experience.”

“In the tenth century, St Dunstan, the Abbot of Glastonbury enlarged the church.” He waved his hand in an arc, taking in the full grounds. “He became the Archbishop of Canterbury in nine hundred sixty. This land is referred to as the ‘holiest ground’ in the isles. Joseph of Arimathea built the first Christian church near here, you know.”

Powerful reverence came over her and she sighed contentedly. The sweeping lawns interspersed with the stone ruins of the Abbey called in soft nature whispers. Birds sang in harmony with the wind as it blew through stone openings in an expression of heavenly whistling.

She turned in a full circle, studying the representation of holiness in full panoramic motion. Finally, she reached a hand and traced her fingers across the stone archway. “It’s strange,” she murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“The same energy is here that I felt at the Pool.” She moved her fingers along the carvings as though reading Braille.

“I understand. You’ve never felt that before? The earth energies? It’s just the magic all around you.”

Her eyes still focused on the stone, Shayla spoke as memory carried her home to her place of refuge. “There’s a place at home that comes close, I guess. The Gorge. It’s a national park that’s actually an ice age formation. The Cuyahoga River runs north through it. The energy isn’t as powerful there though.”

Meekal leaned against the stone wall and crossed his arms. “It may be different for you now that you have been attuned.”

Perplexity replaced her contentment. “Attuned?”

He smiled, the reflexive dimple increasing his charm.

Shayla’s heart rate picked up at that simple move.

Eyes dancing in amusement, he said, “When she spoke to you, the White Lady opened your awareness to a new level. You’ll probably begin to understand things you never did before. The omnipresence of life in all things is just a part of that. Some refer to it as earth energies, ley lines or even the web of power.”

She chortled, tapping the stone as though playing the piano. “Yeah, stones have life.”

He grinned, pulling her close. “Aye, they do. Haven’t you ever heard a stone scream or purr?”

Bracing herself, she leaned back and looked up into his eyes. “You’re joking.” She could feel his heartbeat under her fingers and arousal in his jeans.

Hands on her hips, he pulled her tighter. “Those stones are screaming. Can’t you hear them, Shayla?”

Her name rolled off his tongue with a sensual timbre, teasing with potential pleasure. She moaned, leaning in to taste. “This is crazy.” Shayla stopped speaking and bit his pulse point.

“Ah, lass, ‘tis destiny.”

She flicked her tongue over the bite she created on his savory skin. They both shivered in response. “Kal.” She deeply inhaled his scent and clutched the soft cashmere sweater separating them.

Meekal’s arms tightened while his lips spread butterfly kisses across her cheeks and eyelids.

Tucking her face into him for closeness, Shayla rubbed his neck as though marking him for her own. “None of this answers my questions,” she whispered into his ear, nibbling.

He entwined his strong fingers into her hair. She trembled with ecstasy when the sensation made him growl with possessiveness. “Only question I have is, when can we…”

She covered his mouth, stopping his words. Sure, she burned with unexpressed desire. But everything had happened so fast.

He moaned, clutched her tightly, and pressed her against his hardness. Pulling back from her mouth, he purred, “Shay, we can figure it out later.”

Her mind whirling, all she saw was fathomless cobalt blue. Newly awakened senses overpowered her, carrying her on passion’s liquid rush.
Forget happening too fast
. “Kal, now.”

Meekal growled, spun them, and braced her against the stones. Hands flashing in voracious want, he pushed fingers up her thigh.

She gasped at the fire left behind from the heated journey. Clasping his neck with both hands, Shayla wrapped him with her legs.

He groaned, pushing against her, delving into her mouth, sending hands in search of liquid heat.

“Kal!” Her head banged against the wall. Pain only intensified urgency. Rapturous sounds escaped from her as she responded with ardent insistence.

He plunged his face into her neck, and tongued her racing blood. Fingers explored, teasing and pressing with eagerness.

Thrusting faster, waves of an orgasm began flitting from her center, growing in blissful power. Forgetting where they were, she cried, “Shree!”

“Kal,” she said, breath rasping with husky longing. “Wanna feel you.”

She sent her hands fumbling. Denim, zipper, exquisite tight skin.

He accepted her finger’s embrace around him, and then squeezed his hand over hers. When his fingers left, she gasped with both loss of their eager guidance and surprise.

“Protection,” she said with an out rush of air. Then just when she thought bliss couldn’t go any deeper, he pushed into her molten center.

“Aye,” he murmured against her ear before nibbling and teasing its most sensitive curves.

Eyes closing at the exquisite feel of him, Shayla cried out needing more.

He filled her.

She shivered and opened wider while embracing him with fervor.

He withdrew, and then stroked to the hilt. “Shay. Gods, gotta have you.”

“Yes!” She pulled his tongue into her mouth, sucking in time to the dance of life. Thrust for thrust, she accepted his passion, and allowed it to fill her.

Powerful waves of new emotions and physical feelings charged over her. She closed eyes and wove fingers in Meekal’s hair. The sensation extended the feel of his penetration as silk flowed through. She clasped tighter and pulled.

Meekal’s hands clenched.

Passion increased.

“Open your eyes, love. Look at me,” Meekal demanded with a fierce thrust.

Exquisite ardor rolled through her. She opened her eyes, and became lost in his rousing power.

Meekal hissed through his teeth and with one final push he collapsed. His weight squeezed her against the cool stones of the wall.

Breathing heavily, she closed eyes and relished the feel of him. The last ripples of orgasm teased with heighten euphoria. She moved her fingers again through his glossy black locks, caressing in atonement of previous roughness and laved his passion-swelled mouth.

“Gods, it’s real,” he said, breathing heavily.

She slid trembling legs down with deliberate slowness, enjoying the feel of his jeans on the inside of her thighs. “Yeah. Awesome, huh?” Fondling him gave her a thrill of coming home.

He leaned in and kissed gently. “I wasn’t too rough?”

“No. Just right.” Shayla smiled, turned to nuzzle in his hair and inhale his scent.

She could have sworn she heard purring.

[3] Magickal Bonds:
Intertwined Souls

“Bloody hell, it’s real.” Suddenly he could only manage a murmur. The thrumming buzz journeying through his blood made him feel as though he was high.

Shayla’s scent overwhelmed him.

He nibbled on moist skin, savoring her taste on his tongue. Arms tightened, lingering and unwilling to release their prize. A moan started somewhere—he didn’t know its origin as it rumbled forth. “Real.”
Never did that before. Not afterward. Damn, feels good
.

Her softness wafted through his five senses.

“Kal?” she whispered.

He moaned and snuggled even closer, if that was possible. With her hands still in his hair, he finally pulled away from her succulent neck. “Shay.”

Melted eyes looked at him surrounded by an earthy seductive countenance. Her swelled mouth, always full anyway, deepened to a dark cranberry, looked luscious.

Parted enticingly, they called to him. He leaned in, placing his forehead against hers. “Beautiful.” His hands found smooth skin. He expressed another moan. His heart muscle tightened even as it beat strongly in his chest. He tried to speak. “Sahya.” Laughter bubbled up.

She giggled.

Her body, wiggling in laughter within his embrace, felt heavenly. “It’s real. Damn.” He stepped back drunkenly and braced his hands on either side of her.

The wall steadying him slightly.

Hair like black garnets,
he thought
. Glistening in the sunshine
. He pulled a deep breath in and tried again. “Can you feel it?”

She nuzzled into his ear without saying anything, her hand brushing a feather light caress on his jaw.

He tilted his head into the feel of her and let the sensation expand from his heart. “Cat got your tongue?”

She shook with laughter.

Its enticement pulled him in to taste it. He moaned deeply into her mouth and teased her tongue with languorous strokes.
Still there
, he joked within his mind, enjoying her wet slickness. He nibbled, his heart soaring when she wrapped her arms around his neck and delved seductively.

Her hair, between his fingers felt like divinely spun silk. He deepened their kiss and pushed her against the wall.
Abbey
. He groaned and pulled away with reluctance.
Sacred
. “Shay.”

“Humm?”

Harry’s voice laughed in his head,
“I’d avoid the Abbey if I were you.”

He pushed a hand through his hair. “Shay, we have to talk.”

Her eyes, soft as a summer sky, smiled at him. He groaned and took another step back. It didn’t change anything.
Everything still thrumming. Oops.
He wondered vaguely about Black Bry, and how this type of deep bond had affected him.

“Kal, what’s wrong? You’re frowning. Did I do something?”

He pulled up sharply, shaking his head. “No. I mean, you didn’t do anything. It’s me.”

Her hurtful expression twisted his heart. In a rush, he moved back to her and kissed her lightly, trying to soothe the expression away. His heart flipped.
Gotta tell her, Chilkwell.

Despite the ardent pull of his blood, he stepped away yet again, grinding his teeth as the sensation of separateness overwhelmed him.
Bloody Bryan, gonna kick his arse.

“Okay, maybe I didn’t do anything, but you’re scaring me.”

“I’m sorry. I guess, well it just seems like a lot.” His voice disappeared somewhere. Wherever it went, he didn’t know.

He turned and surveyed the expansive lawns of the Abbey grounds. An expressive snigger came forth, born from years of conflict with the local gardener. Old man Lunn had apparently done his final mowing for the year, a ritual of preparing for the winter. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it earlier.
Wrong, Chilkwell. Beautiful enticing woman. Thrumming
.

Meekal sat on the step between the broken arches of the Abbey’s entrance and squinted up at her. “Sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”

Her brow quirked in such a way it caused him another distraction. He swallowed the sensation and readjusted his seating position. “Shayla,” he whispered, indicating the step next to him.

“I gotta admit,” she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. “It’s never happened this fast before.”

“What? Oh no! That’s not what I meant.” A surge of hot jealousy burst forth. At least that’s what he thought it was. He moved back against the arch trying to distance himself from it. He stared into her eyes seeing a sudden storm cloud there. “Shayla, that’s not what it is. Honest. There’s just so much and I don’t know where to begin.”

They sat, sheltered by the split crest of the main archway. Meekal tried to focus and organize his thoughts and decide how he was going to present them.

Magickal bonds? Soulmates? That doesn’t explain anything
.

He remembered something he's heard at many weddings... What God hath joined together, let no one put asunder. But they weren't married, not yet anyway.

Meekal stole a look at Shayla from the corner of his eye. She was chewing her lip again, looking across the grounds, frowning. He pushed his hand through his hair and realized they each had their individual little quirks. He released a sigh in the hopes it would help. It didn’t.

He snuck another look, this time watching her fully when he realized her focus on the broken arch above gave him the advantage. His fingers tingled with longing to touch her.

Impassioned blood rushed through his body, pressing toward her with a magical urgency. Instead of succumbing to its power, he pressed firmly against the stones behind him in stubborn insistence against the magical pull between them.

Shayla’s gaze fell to him.

He looked away quickly, trying to give the impression he had not been watching.

“Kal?” Her voice trembled, her eyes opened wide. He realized she was still fearful. She made a noise in her throat. “The beginning is a good place to start.”

A sudden sense of relaxation soothed him. “I was just trying to figure out where that is.” He tried to reassure her by showing off his dimple. “How did it make you feel when the White Lady appeared?”

There it went again, her lower lip between her teeth.

“Scared. I thought I was dying.” She dropped her gaze to one of her black boots and fidgeted with the tiny brass buckle on the side.