Golden Stair (8 page)

She opened her mouth against his, seeking something without really knowing what it was. Part of her mind held back, examining her efforts and internally mocking her. For all that she’d dreamed of this moment, she had no idea what she was doing. What he must think of her and her clumsy efforts. Embarrassment stole her brazenness and she tensed, preparing to pull away.

A sudden groan from Adonis stopped her. The sound vibrated against her mouth, sending a tide of wet heat down her body, burning her and making her feel more alive than she ever had before. He wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging her against his body. A whimper escaped her throat as her brain ceased its analysis, giving her over to a world of sensation with no rational thought. His tongue slid past her lips, delving into her mouth to dance over her teeth and duel with her tongue. Her head swam and she melted against him, letting him take what he would.

After all too short a time, Adonis pulled back just enough to speak.

“The gods help me, Ivy,” he muttered, breathing as if he’d just run a marathon. “You kiss like Aphrodite herself.”

Pleasure soaked Ivy’s senses, combining with Adonis’ praise to make her giddy. She didn’t even care if he was lying, it felt too absolutely amazing.

Adonis ran his hands up and down her back, squeezing here and there to send shivers of pleasure down her body.

“Ivy, you try my control. If I don’t leave now, I’m afraid I’ll take more than the tender kiss you’ve allowed me.”

Ivy blinked, trying to make her brain work. Her eyes widened as she realized the golden haze was gone and she could see again. The distraction helped clear the erotic cloud from her mind and she ran her hands down her robes as she stepped away from Adonis. The incubus let her go, only hesitating for a second, so brief it may have only been her imagination.

“Goodbye,” she managed, offering what she hoped was a pleasant smile. She realized she’d taken a step toward him again and cleared her throat, forcing herself to back away. It unnerved her how much she wanted to throw herself into his arms, to chase that sinfully delightful mouth. Her body still buzzed with arousal and the need to take more of what he had to offer. The look he was giving her wasn’t helping either.

“You are unlike any elemental I’ve ever met,” Adonis said softly.

“I’m not an elemental,” she answered automatically.

Adonis grinned. With a small wave, he turned and leapt over the balcony, sailing off into the sky.

Ivy stood at the balcony until he disappeared, her fingers pressed to her lips where the ghost of his kiss remained.

“You again!”

Adonis lunged for the floating ball of light, grunting as his knee collided with the smooth bark of the tree branch he’d been straddling. The will o’ wisp swirled about in merry circles as the incubus careened out of the tree and landed with an unceremonious thud on the forest floor. Pain sizzled like fireworks over his body in a shower of bruises, cuts, and scrapes, all of which healed nearly as fast as they’d appeared, sealed by the post-coital energy flaring inside him

Musical laughter drifted down from the tree as Adonis growled and righted himself, rolling the shoulder he’d landed on to relieve the dull ache left in the wake of the healing rush. The dryad he had to thank for his current overabundance of energy propped her chin on one delicate, mint-green hand as she stared down at him. Outlined as she was against the rustling canopy of vibrant green leaves in a patchwork against a brilliant sunny blue sky, he was half tempted to ignore the amusement dancing in her eyes.

“I suppose I should be grateful that you fell out of the tree after instead of during,” she teased him, her voice echoing with the sound of leaves in the wind.

Adonis snorted, squinting up in the air for the most recent bane of his existence. “I suppose I should be grateful to have sampled your sense of humor only after availing myself of your delightful charms.”

Lustrous apple green hair fell around him as the dryad leaned down from her branch. Brown eyes sparkled at him from beneath the canopy of her hair.

“Is there any particular reason you lunged for a will o’ wisp? Do I need to refresh your memory as to what happens to naughty men who follow the lights into the darkness?”

“Spare me the wary-traveler tales, my little sapling.” Adonis tweaked the dryad’s nose. “I have no intention of following the nosy fey. However, that particular firefly cost me a great deal of blood a week or so ago, and I intend to have words with it.”

“It won’t have words for you,” the dryad pointed out, rising up to recline on her tree branch again. She stretched her arms over her head, bowing her slender body to beautiful effect.

Adonis spared her an appreciative glance. “I suppose you’re right,” he murmured, already reaching up to haul himself back into the tree. “I—”

The will o’ wisp appeared directly in front of his eyes, so close he could almost see the tiny fey body hidden in the sphere of light.

“Oh, go away,” Adonis snapped. “I’ve decided not to take revenge out on you. Be grateful and get lost.” He started to raise his hand, but the will o’ wisp surged forward, straight into his head.

The forest vanished, replaced with an image of Ivy standing at the balcony of her tower, brown eyes locked on the valley below. In his long life, he’d seen a sea of women staring out their windows, searching for him with lustful longing in their eyes. That lust touched him, called to him, but it was a mere whisper in the dark compared to the achingly sweet song of Ivy’s desire. It was just him she wanted, him she lusted after. She searched for him as if he were the only color on her palate, the only means for her to brighten the blank canvas her mother guarded so fiercely. She looked at him like he was the answer to excitement that went beyond the bedroom.

The picture in his mind was so real, so crystal clear that Adonis couldn’t keep from reaching out to try and touch her. His body stirred to life as he remembered the kiss they’d shared, the eager way the virgin had clutched at him. Her inexperienced mouth had been no less devastating on his senses for its lack of sophistication. Quite the contrary, there’d been something pure and unfiltered in that kiss. He could only imagine what it would have been like if it hadn’t stopped there. If he’d kept going…

Adonis blinked and shook his head, trying to dislodge the will o’ wisp and break the glamour it was holding over his mind. The fey remained stubbornly entrenched, infusing his mind with the image of Ivy. He stumbled back, putting a hand to his head. Emotions washed over him. Longing, fear, anticipation. She was waiting for him.

“What’s wrong?”

The dryad,
Chrysopeleia, shifted in the tree, naked skin brushing the bark. The sound should have conjured up images of her naked body, open and waiting for him, but instead all he could see was Ivy. Her golden flesh, her twinkling eyes, her silky hair.
Through the will o’ wisp’s glamour, he saw her in her lonely tower, staring out into the valley with a hunger that should be reserved for a lover. The sight tugged at something deep inside him, and he had a sudden strong urge to return to the golden shut-in.

“Get out of my head,” Adonis growled. “She nearly roasted me alive, I’d have to be daft to go back there.”

“Are you talking to me?”
Chrysopeleia
asked, her voice thick with confusion.

“No,” Adonis barked. New images cascaded into his head with all the furious power of a waterfall. Ivy in front of him, her eyes drifting closed as he leaned in to kiss her. The flash of determination just before she’d grabbed him and hauled him closer for a bone-melting meeting of the lips. His hands twitched at the memory of her curves in his grasp and her velvet lips parting beneath his. Energy seared his insides at the flashback of the power that only came from a virgin, but that wasn’t what twisted his insides and jerked him forward as if dragging him back to Ivy’s side. No, it was the sweet taste of rebellion, the brief flicker in Ivy that had made her reach for something her mother had tried to make too fearsome to fathom. He’d seen the painting she’d created of him, seen the monster that her mother claimed he was. As thorough as her mother had been in her efforts to scare Ivy away from the outside world, the golden wonder had still scraped together the courage to reach for what she wanted. To have been a part of that was a more powerful aphrodisiac than any incubus could dream up. He swayed where he sat, drunk on the recollection.

“Adonis, this isn’t funny. What’s wrong with you?”

The will o’ wisp flew from his head, and the incubus reeled back against the base of the tree, wincing when the roots dug into his sensitive lower bits. Being the middle of summer, there weren’t nearly enough fallen leaves to cushion the floor of the woods, and the spindly fingers of wood reaching into the dark soil were frightfully uncomfortable for any naked man to sit on.
Chrysopeleia
squealed as he collided with her, squashing her body against the bark where she’d been climbing down, ostensibly to check on him. She tumbled the last foot to the ground and he caught her in time to save her the rough landing he’d had. He planted a quick kiss on her lips.

“You were the loveliest of company as always, my delightful seedling, but I must go. Remember me fondly.”

Adonis grunted as he tripped over a tree root, nearly planting face first into the ground in his haste to be on his way. He stumbled around a bit before regaining his balance, and gave
Chrysopeleia
a slight bow. She laughed at his antics and turned back to her tree. The dryad’s giggling faded behind him as the incubus leapt into the air, wings exploding from his back to catch the smooth caress of the wind and throw him toward the sky.

The cool breeze slid over his heated skin, easing the fierce pounding of the sun against his flesh. The thought of the sun brought Ivy rushing back to the forefront of his mind and Adonis gave a mental tip of the hat to the will o’ wisp. As much as it irritated him to be manipulated, he was not a man to turn down a good idea when one was presented to him.

Besides, this time he would not be entering at a disadvantage. He was bursting with energy, a veritable powerhouse. He thrust his wings down, sending his body hurtling faster through the air. He climbed higher with every gust, dipping sharply now and again just to feel the rush of air. There would be no burning flesh this time, no miserable circle of rocks holding him prisoner. This time, they would meet as equals. He would not be caught off-guard again.

“Hidden dimension,” he muttered to himself as Ivy’s valley came into view. “Ridiculous.”

The natural sanctuary was nestled against the mountain range that marked one of Nysa’s borders. It was a perfect little crescent shaped valley, completely closed on the side opposite the mountains by a thick wall of forest. Hidden dimension, no, but it certainly was out of the way. A shiver of power rippled over him as he flew over the forest. Adonis tapped his chin.

“A hesitation spell? How…interesting.” Someone did not want the valley to be found. Suddenly Ivy’s claim that her tower existed in another dimension did not seem so far-fetched.

Filing that thought away, Adonis circled over the tower and landed in the meadow before the hulking mass of stone and mortar. As an incubus, Adonis had an innate appreciation for phallic architecture, but even for him, a lone tower standing in the middle of a valley was a little on the nose. The stones were aged, natural without a hint of paint or even over enthusiastic polishing. The mortar seemed strong, with hardly a chip to speak of. In fact, the structure looked so perfect it seemed…fake.

Adonis put a hand on the stone and closed his eyes. A faint vibration beneath his palm told him what he needed to know. The tower had been magically constructed. The stone and mortar were real enough, but no human hand had put them together. The magic had seeped into the rock, imbued it with the resonance of energy beyond any human.

The witch is powerful. Yet another reason I should not be here.
Ignoring his better sense with the ease that only comes from years and years of diligent practice, Adonis wandered away from the tower and peered up at the balcony where Ivy would hopefully soon appear. He pulled his wings back into his body, deciding that it would behoove him to look as unintimidating as possible. He had more than enough power to defend himself, true, but he could see no reason to put Ivy on the defensive from the beginning. A defensive female was no one’s friend. It was always best to start with a laugh.

Remembering his last visit, Adonis smiled and took a deep breath.

“My beautiful Ivy, let down your hair!”

A few moments later, Ivy’s head appeared over the edge. She blinked down at him as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. The breeze played with the strands of her hair that had escaped the braid, and Adonis had the urge to smooth his fingers over the flyaways. Ivy was silent, just staring at him, for so long that he started to wonder if perhaps the will o’ wisp had deliberately presented him with a false image of the maiden.

If that little beacon tricked me, I’m going to—

“What are you doing here?” she called out finally.

Adonis perked up, abandoning his dark fantasies of extinguishing the incandescent fey. “A little birdie told me you were pining away for want of my presence,” he called up. “It hurts my heart to think of a lovely maiden bemoaning my absence, and so here I am.”

“Bemoaning your absence?” Ivy echoed. “I think that little birdie may have eaten some bad seeds!”

She’s funny.
“Are you trying to tell me that I’ve been lied to by my little feathered friend?” Adonis put a hand on his chest and leaned back. “Say it isn’t so!”

Ivy shook her head, but the corners of her mouth twitched. He’d seen that look a million times. He had her. Sure enough, she only hesitated for a moment before disappearing over the balcony. A second later, her braid sailed over the edge to lash against the ground.

“Seems odd to climb someone’s hair,” Adonis commented thoughtfully. “Still, when in a hidden dimension…”

Hand over hand, Adonis hauled himself up the silken braid. His muscles bunched with every pull, a pleasant burn tingling in his nerves, and he had to admit it was more fun than he’d anticipated. He couldn’t think of a single other maiden in the kingdom that had the hair—or the inclination—to let him try this. Ivy was turning out to be quite the adventure.

“I’m beginning to think you have no faith in my wings,” he called out conversationally as he climbed. “Not that I mind doing it your way, mind you,” he added. “I’m always up for a little strenuous physical activity.” He inserted a playful tone into his voice for that last bit, trying to put Ivy in the right mindset for his grand entrance.

“Why didn’t you fly?”

Ivy’s voice pealed over the edge of the balcony and skittered over the stone of the tower like a series of sonic booms. Adonis winced and shook his head to rid himself of the ringing in his ears. The acoustics here were impressive—and unfortunate.