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Authors: Gabrielle Bisset

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As
she rode him, he slid the pad of his thumb over her tender nub and rubbed in
slow circles. The effect was immediate. She bit her lip and moaned as she began
to buck wildly on him. Amon knew her release wasn’t far off and thrust upward
to meet her movements.

“Come
for me, Thea,” he ordered, and with one last thrust into her, she came as he
watched in wonder. She became more beautiful than he thought possible in those
moments of sweet surrender as her body released its passion onto him, and he
felt his own climax rage through him and into her, flooding her with warmth.

She
fell onto him, exhausted, her damp hair blanketing the two of them, and
breathed heavily near his ear. He reveled in the pleasure of bringing her
satisfaction in addition to enjoying his own. As he softly caressed her back,
she kissed his ear.

“Mmmmm,
that was wonderful,” she cooed.

Amon
slowly removed himself from her and placed her next to him on the bed. Turning
on her side, she looked at him and smiled sweetly. She looked like an angel with
her hands folded under her head and her hair splayed over her body.

His
angel.

“I
wish I didn’t have to wait all those lifetimes to finally meet you,” she said
quietly with a look of sadness in her eyes.

Smiling,
he leaned over and kissed her shoulder. “I don’t think you would have liked me
before.”

“I
never had a choice, so it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Amon
was struck by the truth of her statement. As Aeveren, they never had a choice
of their destined ones. But she wasn’t entirely correct.

“Just
because I’m your destined one doesn’t mean it was certain you’d like me or want
me.”

Thea
sat up and looked down at him. “You don’t understand. I don’t love you because
you’re my destined one. I’m called to you and sexually drawn to you because of
Aeveren biology, but that isn’t why I love you. Trust me. I have forty-five
lifetimes of experience with love.”

Raising
one eyebrow, he leaned close to her. “Now I think I’m jealous.”

“I
could say something about them being practice,” she teased, “but I won’t.”

“How
nice of you.”

“What
if I told you that I’ve never felt like I do for you with anyone else in all my
lifetimes?”

“I
feel my male ego improving by the second,” he said with a smile.

Thea
leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. “How could you be jealous of any
man I’ve ever been with? You’re an ancient of our race and a tempuster who can
teleport into places, avoiding actually being guilty of breaking and entering.”

Thea
placed her head on his chest, and in the gentle silence that grew between them
as they lay in each other’s arms, Amon decided this was the moment to tell her about
his other abilities. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to end up apologizing and
ruining their first lovemaking.

“Thea,
I need to talk to you about something. There is something I haven’t told you.”

Snuggling
closer to him, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and mumbled, “You
don’t have to be jealous. I was just teasing about having that much
experience.”

 “I
have other abilities in addition to those you already know about,” he began.

Thea
lifted her head and looked up at him with a look of confidence on her face. “Like
being able to communicate mentally with Gethen?”

“Not
exactly.”

“What
do you mean?”

As
he stroked her hair, he continued. “My ability to communicate with Gethen
without speaking is more because of him than me. Because he’s a Sidhe, he can
understand what I’m thinking.”

“I’m
confused. How do you communicate then?”

“That’s
where my mental abilities come in. I can know what people are thinking
sometimes if I focus. It’s easier with some people than others. I’ve never
really been able to master my mental powers.” Then, after a long pause, he said
with hesitation, “In addition to that power, I can do other things.”

“Like?”

“I
can plant ideas into people’s minds,” he confessed.

Thea
grew very quiet. “Have you ever done that to me?”

Amon
considered how much to tell her and decided against a full confession. “Yes, at
Kiril’s to calm you.”

“That
explains why I suddenly felt okay there.”

“Yes.”

Thea
remained silent for a few moments. “Amon, I need you to promise me you’ll never
use your powers on me, except to help me.”

With
a twinge of guilt from knowing he’d already used them on her for his own
selfish benefit, he agreed. “I promise. Never, unless I think you need my
help.”

A
sly smile crossed her face and her stare drifted down his body. “Any idea what
I’m thinking of now?”

Amon
watched as Thea slid down his body, her hands following her mouth to his cock.
Already hard, it jumped when her tongue flicked over the head.

Looking
up at him, she grinned. “Seeing anything good in my mind?”

“Definitely,”
he groaned as she began to take him into her mouth, the guilt from not telling
her the absolute truth about when he’d used his ability on her dissipating with
every touch of her lips and tongue on him.

When
Thea returned to his side, he kissed her, more in love than he believed he
could be. Somehow, he’d been blessed with her, a happiness he knew he didn’t
deserve. Deep in his heart, he knew he was a different man because she’d
rescued him from himself, though. As they drifted off to sleep, he could think
only of the happiness she brought him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 Amon
lay peacefully next to Thea listening to her breathe softly in her sleep. Her
head rested on his chest, and he lazily stroked her hair as he let the joy of being
in love sink in. Everything about Thea with him felt right. It was more than
she was meant for him. It was the way she made him feel love again. Since his
time with his last destined one, he’d only loved two women. Callia had brought
him back from lifetimes of loneliness, but she hadn’t loved him without his
manipulation of her. But the woman he’d loved before her—lifetimes earlier—had
loved him with all her heart.

Victoria.

The
name haunted him still. The guilt of what he’d been as Riordan Blake and what
he’d done to her was never far from his mind, no matter how much he worked to
bury it. Now, as he began a new life with Thea, he was reminded of Victoria, another woman who’d cared for him all that time ago.

He
entered the dance with Frederika on his arm, prepared for yet another
uneventful night in Bedfordshire. As a member of the landed gentry, balls like
this were part of his social responsibilities, no matter how much he detested
them.
Frederika, his wife and destined one for seventeen lifetimes,
adored social affairs, so at least half the couple presented a pleasant face at
such functions.

To
the vast majority of those he interacted with in the sleepy hamlet of Hinwick,
where his manor Hinwick Hall was located, and the slightly less sleepy county
of Bedfordshire, he was Riordan Blake, part of the landed gentry, husband to
Frederika, and father to James and Simon. He tended to his business and lands
as every other gentleman and lived a generally comfortable life punctuated by
frequent social duties, such as the one he found himself attending this August
evening.

Inside,
however, he yearned for the excitement of his previous lifetimes. As an ancient
Aeveren, he’d lived many lifetimes before his reincarnation as an English
gentleman, with quite a few ranking higher in interest than his current one.
From a Roman in the third century Empire to his lifetime as a Nordic marauder
to his time in a position high in Aztec society before the arrival of the
Spanish conquistadores, he’d lived lives of daring and action. Now he spent his
days doing little more than watching over his fortune.

Worse
yet, his destined one for the past seventeen lifetimes and he had grown apart
in this lifetime, at least in small part due to his unhappiness with the life
he’d been given. For her part, she’d always yearned for a life of stable
luxury, so being Frederika Blake of Hinwick Hall was the perfect fulfillment of
this wish.

As
Riordan made his way through the crowd, smiling through his obligation to play
the content husband, he scanned the faces of his fellow Bedfordshire residents.
One blended into the next; from men to women, they all shared a bland common
look, no matter how wealthy they were. Even the Aeveren seemed happy to be
nothing more than staid English society dictated. Riordan wondered if they
might all by some wild coincidence be in their first lifetimes and simply
didn’t know any better. Whatever their excuse was, he couldn’t forgive his kind
for their seemingly eager acceptance of such a banal existence.

Dance
after dance, he performed his duties knowing at least his destined one would
have no quarrel with him on this issue. An hour into the gathering, he spied a
face in the crowd that was unfamiliar to him. She stood on the opposite side of
the hall, immediately noticeable by her blaze of red hair. Next to her stood a
man Riordan had only met on a few occasions but had quickly written off as a
complete bore.

Mr.
Harold Adams was a fellow Aeveren and from what Riordan could judge, he was one
of the worst offenders in accepting his lot in this lifetime. Perfectly happy
in his life as a landed gentleman, he’d moved to the county recently and
appeared to gleefully enjoy every job of his social position, if his endless
prattling about grounds and tenants was any indication. Riordan had made a solemn
pledge to himself after their second meeting to avoid him as much as possible.

Now
as he watched the beautiful woman standing next to him, he wondered if an
adjustment to that idea was in order. Unable to gain her attention through the
throng of people who stood between him on one side of the hall and her on the
other, Riordan began to make his way through the crowd, his gaze never wavering
from her face.

As
he inched closer, he saw that distance had not improved her looks. She wore a
pale blue dress that highlighted her pale, white skin and stunning green eyes.
Blessed with an ample décolletage, this beauty made the odious Harold Adams all
the more a beast and certainly unworthy of such a woman.

He
finally caught her eye and saw he had the same effect on her that she had on
him. As he approached her and Adams, a pink blush colored her cheeks and told
him of her interest.

“Harold
Adams, a delight seeing you here,” Riordan announced with a strong pat on the
man’s shoulder, knowing it would take only these few words to begin a
conversation.

“Riordan
Blake. How have you been? I haven’t seen you since before I left for London.”

“Very
well, thank you. Do your responsibilities call you away from Bedfordshire
often?”

“Yes,
it looks like my time away from here will be increasing in the near future. How
about you?”

“No,
I find few reasons to leave the county.”

As
he spoke, he kept an eye on the woman who now looked at him intently with those
pale green eyes.

“Mr.
Blake, please let me introduce my wife, Victoria. Dear, this is Riordan Blake
of Hinwick Hall.”

Riordan
bowed and let his gaze settle on the lovely area of milky white skin just above
her dress’s neckline when she curtsied. Even before she’d spoken a word, he
knew he wanted her.

“Mr.
Blake, I believe I met your wife earlier in the other room with Lady Russell.”

“Yes,
Frederika enjoys her time at these balls.”

Hearing
the music end, Riordan turned to Harold Adams. “Would you mind, Adams?” he
asked as he indicated to Victoria his desire for the next dance.

“Please
do. My poor wife would never dance if she relied on me,” Harold Adams said with
a tone of relief in his voice.

Riordan
led Victoria to the dance floor and despite his almost total disinterest in
dancing, waited in anticipation for the music to begin again. She stood across
from him in her line and after curtsying, reached out to place her hand gently
in his to begin the intricate steps of the chosen country dance.

He
noted how small her hand felt in his as he completed the first pass of the
dance. She barely touched him, but her effect on him was tremendous. He
struggled to keep his composure in the room full of his country neighbors while
his mind raced with ideas of what he hoped to enjoy with her in the future when
it would be just the two of them.

“I
haven’t seen you smile much tonight, sir. Do you not enjoy gatherings like
this?”

Her
words brought him out of his fantasy, and he was pleased by the sound of her
voice.

“No,
I do not. And I’m afraid I leave much to be desired as a dance partner.”

His
attempt at being self-effacing was successful, and she smiled warmly at him.
“Not at all. But perhaps I’m a poor judge as I rarely have the opportunity to
enjoy events like this either because I cannot attend or because my husband
dislikes dancing.”

Riordan
pressed his palms to hers and turned away before the dance returned them to
face one another. “Perhaps we should make a pact to entertain one another as
you seem to be tolerant of my abilities.”

As
the music ended, Victoria looked into his eyes as she leaned in to a respectful
distance and whispered, “And what do you get out of such an agreement?”

Remembering
where he was, he pushed aside the plans he had for her and grinned. “The
pleasure of spending time with you, Victoria,” he said quietly as they walked
back to her husband’s side.

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