Grimm Tidings: Grimm's Circle, Book 6 (16 page)

Sweeping her up into his arms, he waited until the room stopped spinning and then he left the library, striding down familiar halls. This had been his home for decades and although he rarely visited, it was still…plain and simply, home.

He’d wanted her in his home.

The sprawling four-poster bed waited for them in the shadows. He didn’t bother with the lights. He didn’t need them to see her and he didn’t want to waste a second. Already he could feel the cloud struggling to clear from his mind and he didn’t want that—didn’t want the responsibility of thinking clearly. Not yet.

He settled them on the bed and grabbed the waist of her jeans, jerking at the button, the zipper, fumbling in his haste. He should just tear the damn material—

“Hey, what’s your hurry?”

Her hands came over his and he looked up, half-mad with his determination to get her naked. “Damn blue jeans. They won’t seem to come off,” he muttered.

“Sure they will.” She unbuttoned them, unzipped them.

A flush settled on his cheeks as she lifted her hips, wiggling a little as she shoved them down. Then it stopped as the blood drained out of his head, straight, straight down…

Straight to his cock.

Covering her hands with his, he rasped, “Let me.”

Why miss this chance to touch her? Stripping the jeans, the panties away, he stared at her, at those sleek, pale curves, lush enough to cradle him, and underneath those curves, the body of a warrior…his warrior. For now.

Only for now—

It ripped at him. Because he couldn’t let her see, he rolled onto his knees between her thighs and pressed his face to her belly, breathed in her scent. This…just this. To be with her. He hadn’t ever wanted anything as much as he’d wanted this.

And although with every passing second, the fog in his brain was lifting, it didn’t matter. He could get drunk on her now. For now. For the moment. So he would. Easing lower, lower, he settled between her thighs, nuzzling the patch of curls there. Celine hissed out a breath, her hands coming down to grip his wrists.

“Jacob…”

He flicked her a glance as he parted her folds with his tongue, groaned as she bucked against him. Again…he wanted to have her do that again. And again…

From under his lashes, he watched as her head fell back, the long slim line of her throat exposed. So damned beautiful. He loved her so damn much, that strength, that courage…

His chest ached as he brought her to climax—the first time. In real life. They’d only have this for so long…

No
. Even the thought of it shattered him. Growling, he levered his body up over her, staring down at her flushed face. “I’ve dreamt of that,” he whispered, lowering his head to kiss her.

She wrapped one arm around his neck, her mouth opening under his. “I’ve dreamt of you doing that…and more.” Sliding her free hand down his chest, she whispered against his lips, “You’re still wearing clothes. This would be much easier if you weren’t.”

“Very good point.” He shoved up on his knees, tearing at the fly of his jeans, not caring when the sturdy denim tore under his suddenly clumsy hands. Shoving the ragged denim down, he moved back over her, wrapping her in his arms. “Celine…”

“Hmmm.” She pressed her lips to his chin. “Make love to me, Jacob,” she whispered, curving her hand over the back of his head, staring into his eyes.

If he didn’t know better, if he wasn’t careful, he might just think this meant something, might think it meant the same thing to her that it meant to him. And he couldn’t go down that road. Not without risking more heartache than he already had. Closing his eyes, he took her mouth. If he didn’t look at her. If he didn’t let himself wish for more…

Settling between her thighs, he groaned as she wrapped her legs around him. Wet and slick, he could feel her as he nudged against her. The head of his cock brushed against soft, satiny tissues and they yielded as he pressed forward. Both of them shuddered. She whimpered into his kiss, her nails biting into his flesh and she bit his tongue, then sucked on it…

Oh, fuck me—

He slammed into her and she cried out into his mouth, her thighs tensed, the muscles in her sheath rippling around him, milking him—like a fist along all his length and the sensation got tighter and tighter—

Tearing his mouth away, he sucked in a ragged breath of air, braced one arm by her head. “Did I…”

Golden eyes stared up him. Celine reached up and touched his cheek. Beneath him, her body arched and moved, flexing around him. “Just…you have to move.” She flexed around him, gripping him tighter.

“Move…” Despite the ache in his cock, his heart, he smiled. “Move, how?” He went to withdraw, slowly, until just the head of his shaft was lodged in her. “Like this?”

“You tease me and we’re going to have problems,” she whispered. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Mad, are you?” He dipped his head, nipped her lip. “You don’t feel mad. You feel…” His lids dropped closed. Like heaven. Like everything. She felt like everything he’d never known he was missing. And everything he’d long for…for the rest of his life. “You feel amazing,” he finished gruffly.

“So do you. So keep moving.” She arched again, still wiggling against him, and it was driving him insane.

Pinning her hips in place with his, he pressed his mouth to hers. “Be still… for pity’s sake, just be still. This needs to last.”

“Why?” She smiled against his lips. “If it’s over fast, we can just do it again. And again. All night. And tomorrow, and then the next day…”

If only…
“Shhh.” Lifting his head, he cupped her cheek in his hand and stared down at her. They were only going to have this. He wanted a lot more from her than he suspected she could give and he wasn’t going to be shattered. Just this…

He started to rock against her, staring into golden eyes, watching her lovely face as her lips parted, as her lashes fluttered, as the slow flush crept up her neck to stain her cheeks a pale pink. Lovely, so damned lovely. So very much everything he wanted…

“Jacob…” Her voice broke and he felt the tremor in her body, felt her tighten around him.

He shifted and slid a hand between them, seeking out the hard bud buried in the curls between her thighs. As he stroked his thumb over it, she cried out, her head thrashing on the bed.

“That’s it,” he muttered, watching, holding back his own climax just barely. Just…barely—

“Jacob.” Her eyes flew open wide and she stared up at him blindly, her hands gripping him with bruising force. “I…”

The muscles in her sex clenched around him, milking him, drawing him tighter, tighter. He couldn’t…oh, fuck, he couldn’t…

The climax came from him in one explosive, near-painful burst, like the head of his cock was coming off. And then, he heard a harsh, broken whisper.

“Jacob…I love you.”

She was cold.

Seconds after he’d climaxed, he’d levered himself away from her and now he stood by a massive bureau, jerking clothes out of it with terse motions.

Sitting up, she eyed him warily.

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like, pet?” he snapped, grabbing a shirt. It was gray silk, nearly the same shade as his eyes. He’d already pulled out a pair of black trousers and as he pulled the shirt on, she was a little caught off guard by how…well, hell, polished he looked.

“Ah, what’s wrong with you?”

“Not a thing,” he said coolly. “I’m healing up, I had a good fuck and you can go now. I’ll lend you some clothes, call for a car. Will is going to have to get you back to the States, but—”

Rising off the bed, she stared at him. “Excuse me, did you just say, you had a good
fuck
?”

“Well, what else was it supposed to be?” He stared at her. “Sorry, Celine, but I’m a bit old to romanticize things the way you do. You want to make it seem like more than it was, then you do that, but I—”

“You stupid bastard.”

Those flinty eyes narrowed. “Oh, don’t act so insulted. You’re young. You’ll romanticize things—it’s how you explain away any guilt—
ooomph
.”

He rubbed his head and then glanced down at the book she’d just thrown at him. His eyes narrowed and then he looked back at her. “Do you mind? That’s a bit of an antique—a rather priceless one.”

Celine grabbed another book from the bedside table. “And how about this one?” It wasn’t old. It was just heavy—a fat hardback, one that had been hugely popular a few years ago. She thought it was depressing. She also thought it would leave a nice little dent in his hard skull. “You patronizing son of a bitch. I know my own mind.”

“Put the damn book down,” he growled. “I don’t know how you were raised, but I actually have respect for them.”

“And what about people?” She jerked her chin up. “You got respect for them? Think they are capable of knowing what they feel? What they think?”

Jacob sighed, passing a hand over his eyes. “Celine, you
don’t
know what you feel. That’s the whole problem. A few months ago, you were still in love with your husband. And now, because we had sex, you think—”

“I knew I loved you before we had sex,” she said quietly. “It’s why I came looking for you.”

Turning away, she dropped the book down. Hell.

Maybe she
should
have waited to come and talk to him. She looked around, all too aware of the sad state of her clothes. Her jeans and her shoes, her bra and panties, they were in one piece. She could figure out something—

Snagging her clothes, she gathered them into a bundle and headed for the door.

Screw this.

Just…yeah. Screw it.

Before she got the door open, a hand came over her shoulder. “What?”

“Leave me alone, Jacob,” she said quietly. “You get your wish. I’m leaving. I’ll stay the hell away.”

“What did you just say?” he demanded.

She set her jaw, staring stubbornly at the door. The old, polished oak still somehow managed to gleam in the dim light and she focused on that, on the lovely grain, on the ornate beveling. On anything, on everything but the man standing just a whisper away.

His fingers brushed against her nape and she barely managed to suppress a shiver. “What did you say, Celine?” He pressed his lips to her shoulder.

“You know what, I think I’m done stripping myself bare for you, Jacob. You know damn well what I said and I’m not saying it again.” She shoved away from him and grabbed the doorknob. With a savage jerk of her wrist, she opened it and darted through. “I’m done.”

“I’m
not
.” He caught her arm and whirled her around. The gray of his eyes gleamed wildly as he grabbed her clothes, throwing them to the side. “You going to stride out of here, wearing nothing but your skin?”

Glaring at him, she snapped, “Are you
trying
to be a jerk?”

“No. It comes naturally.” He caught her chin in his hand and lowered his head. He didn’t try to kiss her, just pressed his brow to hers. “You said you love me. You meant it.”

Celine closed her eyes, said nothing. What more did he want from her? Was he going to tell her again that she didn’t know her own mind? Her feelings?

Thick lashes swept down over his eyes and he whispered again, rough and raw, “You love me.”

And his voice shook.

Slumping, she tried to steel herself against melting. He didn’t want…

His hands came up and cupped her cheeks, eased her face up until she had no choice but to look at him. Face to face with those eyes, usually so unreadable, almost always so unapproachable, she felt her heart leap into her throat at the naked emotion she saw in them.

“Celine.”

Shaking, he lowered his head, but before he could kiss her, she pulled back. Glancing down at her naked body, she scowled. She was
not
doing this naked. That massive bureau of his took up nearly half of one wall. Heading back into the room, she jerked open a drawer. Underwear. Closefitting boxers. Another drawer. Socks. Geez. A drawer below that held T-shirts. She grabbed one and jerked it on before turning around.

He stood in the door, watching her, with that shaken look still on his face.

“What do you want?” She glared at him. “You’re killing me, damn it.” Groaning, she shoved her hands through her hair and linked them behind her neck, pacing over to stare out the window. She saw nothing but endless green. And wet. Lots and lots of wet. The skies were leaden and gray and they looked like it might never stop raining. Watching the rivulets of water streaming down the window, she said softly, “I’ve thought of nothing but you for the past two weeks. That psychotic bastard Rob is convinced that I’m about as hopeless as everybody says I am because he kept having to haul my ass out of the fray—I kept thinking about you when I should have been thinking about the job. Good thing there were only two times we actually had problems. Will had all but kicked me out, told me that staying there wasn’t helping you because your gift made you more aware of everything around you and I was distracting you, dividing your energy. So I left. But the only place I wanted to be was with you.”

Sighing, she pressed her brow to the window and closed her eyes. “Then I see you. And you practically pat me on the head and just…walk away.