He waited by the door whilst she went about collecting a small red satchel from the open nightstand drawer, a vinyl bag from the bathroom, and the most alluring short sleeping gown he had ever witnessed.
Just how close she would be through the night slammed into his consciousness. He was too large for the small couch in his room, which meant they would share his bed. And she would lie within arms’ distance, dressed in that tantalizing bit of satin.
CHAPTER 18
Chloe stood in Lucan’s bathroom, staring at her reflection. Shyness wasn’t typically part of her makeup. But faced with the prospect of walking into the room where Lucan waited, a man she’d known less than a week, dressed only in her nightgown, left her more than a little self-conscious. She needed a few more inches to the hemline, a little more height to the neck. Long sleeves would go a long way too, as opposed to straps that weren’t much wider than a tank top’s and twice as loose.
For that matter, she wished she’d abandoned the personal luxury of spoiling herself when it came to sleep and adopted the habit of long pants and T-shirts. She wouldn’t feel so … obvious. Like she’d picked this gown because she was sharing his room, when in reality, this was the most modest one she owned.
Damn.
She took the towel to her hair one last time and squeezed out the long lengths. At least with wet hair she didn’t create the picture of seduction.
Despite her awkwardness, she couldn’t deny he’d been right, and her earlier argument still embarrassed her. Staying in her room would have been stupid. Between the break-in and the episode at the window, she couldn’t delude herself any longer. She wasn’t safe. Wouldn’t be until she figured out how to get rid of the demons. Permanently.
She only hoped they’d stay away tonight. That Lucan’s presence would somehow hold them off. His protection, the safety she felt when he was near, was the only reason she hadn’t insisted on getting another room altogether.
With a deep, fortifying breath, she looked in the mirror at the back of the door. When she’d entered the shower, the sound of the television drifted through the barrier. Now, quiet reigned beyond. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. If he had, she could climb under the covers and ignore her current state of undress.
Asleep or not, she couldn’t procrastinate any longer. Already, she’d hidden away for almost an hour.
You’re here because it’s not safe to be alone.
With the reminder to herself, she turned around and opened the door on the darkened room. Her gaze jumped to the bed. When she found Lucan there, not asleep but reading a magazine beneath the dim light of his bedside lamp, her stomach rolled into a knot. Propped against the pillows, legs stretched beneath the covers, the sight of him stifled her ability to breathe. His bare chest held more strength than she’d ever imagined. Thick corded muscles spanned across smooth, broad shoulders. A thin line of dark hair dusted between defined pectorals, then trailed over tight abs to disappear beneath the down comforter. He looked up, sending his long hair tumbling over his shoulders, and his gaze locked with hers.
A strange, unexpected thrill tripped down her spine at the bright appreciation that gleamed in his eyes. He took her in from head to toe with one quick, roaming glance, and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Tipping his head to the side, he indicated the nightstand against the empty side of the bed. “I made you a cup of tea. I thought it might help you relax.”
Under other circumstances, it would. But with such a splendid specimen of male beauty in the bed beside her, she’d be lucky to even choke it down. The thoughtful gesture, however, set off a tightening in her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured.
With courage she didn’t feel, she approached the bed, turned down the covers, and slid beneath. When she pulled the comforter up to her belly, she breathed a little easier. But as she reached for the steaming mug, she caught sight of her red bag on the coffee table several feet away. No way could she attempt sleep with it out of reach. The minute the lights went out she’d never be able to find it.
Annoyed with her forgetfulness, she tossed the covers aside and retrieved the tiny sack. Setting it on the table, she returned to the bed, tea in hand.
Her skin prickled with the heavy weight of Lucan’s gaze. She drank from her mug, desperate to ignore the enticing scent of spice that wafted off his skin. Try as she might, however, he was simply too close to ignore. If she bent her knee, she’d touch his thigh. If she reached to adjust her pillow, her elbow would graze his thick bicep. Too much for her already strained senses.
Lucan tossed his magazine aside and scooted deeper beneath the covers. Twisting onto his side, he propped his head in his hand. “If you require sugar—”
“No, no. This is perfect.” She took another drink to stop her hand from falling atop his where it rested between them.
He gave her another grin before he rolled onto his back and folded his arms beneath his head. “You are still angry with me?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Why would you think that? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You are quiet. Your smile has disappeared.”
A wave of warmth slid over her skin. He noticed the smallest things. Little things no one else would ever observe. He paid attention, more so than any man she’d ever known, including her brother, who prided himself on his ability to relate to women. “No,” she answered quietly. “I’m not angry with you. It’s just been a long day.”
Like so many others.
Chloe set her mug aside, the last of her emotional energy having drained from her body. Escape lay in the man beside her. Freedom from the night, the demons, and the confusing collision of thoughts inside her head. She slid onto her side and tucked a hand beneath her cheek, facing him. As if he waited for her signal, he turned off the light. Darkness engulfed them, brightened only by the faint shine of the moon behind his tightly drawn curtains.
She took a deep breath and swallowed down a moment of awkwardness. “I’m sorry for arguing with you in my room. Thank you for letting me stay here.”
He rolled over, his expression soft. Dropping his arm between their bodies, he covered the back of her hand with his palm. “Rest,” he whispered. “You are safe with me.”
What she would give for that to be true. If only he could fulfill that promise. She’d trade the rest of her lifetime for one full, uninterrupted night of sleep. For dreams that didn’t wake her with nameless, faceless ghouls. If Lucan could take all those nightmares away, she’d never again question his intentions. Even if he vanished with morning’s light, she’d treasure him for a lifetime.
Yet as the all-too-familiar tap-tapping began against the window pane, Chloe knew even this magnificent man couldn’t chase away the creatures of the night.
He could, however, make her forget for a little while.
She brushed her fingertips over his soft mouth. His lips caught the pad of her index finger in a gentle kiss. He caressed it with the tip of his tongue.
A pleasant ache stirred in her womb, and Chloe shivered. With a smile, she ran her hand over his shoulder. He brought his to her hair and pushed the damp locks away from her face. His fingers settled against the back of her head. His gaze held hers, full of silent meaning.
They came together slowly, the touch of their lips soft and fleeting. The twining of their tongues languorous. Chloe didn’t know who moved first, who shifted closer to the other, but the shock of Lucan’s body molding against hers freed a pleasant gasp. He took advantage of the parting of her lips and deepened their kiss.
Warmth flooded through her. This was heaven. The insistence of his mouth, the firm but gentle way he bent her to his will. She ran her fingers along the length of his spine, savoring the feel of hard muscle and smooth, hot skin. Paradise.
The covers rustled as Lucan lifted to his elbow. A nudge of his mouth asked her to turn her head, and she yielded to his silent request. His lips scored along the side of her neck, sending goose bumps coursing down her arms. She shivered in the wake of delightful sensation and let out a soft murmur of pleasure.
“I like you here,” he whispered against her collarbone. His teeth nipped, the flick of his tongue soothed. “In my bed. Overmuch.”
“Overmuch?” she asked. “How can you like it too much?” Seeking to return the pleasure he gave to her, she rained kisses across the shoulder that supported his weight. Heaven above, his skin was just as warm beneath her mouth as it had been beneath her fingertips.
Lucan skated his hand down her exposed arm to her fingertips before dipping beneath the covers. His palm scraped over the flimsy satin of her gown, rising higher, over her abdomen, along her ribs. He cupped her breast in his palm and rubbed his thumb over her nipple. “Because,” he answered hoarsely. He caught her lower lip between his, suckled, then eased away to look into her eyes. As he spoke, his fingers massaged her breast. “Your nearness plagues me with thoughts of all I wish to do to you.”
God help her, the visual that surfaced with that raw confession was so sinfully erotic she couldn’t hold in a low moan. She arched her back, pressing her breast more fully into his palm, and slipped her thigh between his. “Tell me,” she whispered.
With a twist of his hips, he leveraged his weight and guided her onto her back. “Nay,” he murmured against her mouth. Before she could catch and hold his kiss, his lips danced down her throat. Lower until his warm breath feathered across the swell of her breast. He traced a solitary finger over the low fabric of her gown, then pushed it aside. “I would rather show you.” The tip of his tongue swirled around her exposed nipple. Slowly, he drew it into his mouth.
Chloe fastened her fingers into his hair and closed her eyes. Possessed by unexpected bliss, she bit down on her lower lip and pressed his head closer. Her womb contracted under the pull of his mouth. When he took her nipple between his teeth and gave it a tiny twist, she nearly came off the mattress. Moisture gathered between her legs, and she lifted her hips, desperate to feel more of him. All of him.
“Lucan,” she murmured.
He released her nipple to whisper, “Aye?”
Before Chloe could find coherent words, he pulled down the fabric covering her opposite breast and treated it to the same excruciating caresses. She writhed against his body. He sank his hips into hers, pressed her into the mattress, and used his weight to hold her in place. Beneath cotton pants, the hard ridge of his erection nestled against her aching center, full of promise, yet an unbearable torment.
She scattered urgent kisses across his shoulder and clutched at his waist. “Take me away from all this,” she whispered. “Make me forget, Lucan. Take today away.”
* * *
The fire that blistered through Lucan’s veins ebbed at her impassioned response. His body screamed against the effort of controlling himself, and he let her nipple slide from his mouth. She sought escape. Not a joining of their bodies and minds. A temporary relief.
Something he was not willing to share, no matter how fiercely he craved her sweet feminine warmth. He wanted
her.
Not a mere physical release. He had experienced many of those, but never the full union between man and woman that came with the blending of far more than bodies. Deep down in an untouched portion of his soul, he knew she possessed the ability to bring him there. To draw from him not just his sterile seed, but something greater than he had given any woman. And he ached to surrender it to Chloe.
His body, however, was not so willing to cease as his mind. His hips sank hard into hers. His cock strained against the thin barrier of his sleeping pants. The feel of her feminine heat sent another shock of desire scalding through him. ’Twould be so easy to cast aside the foolish quest for a greater fulfillment, nudge their clothing aside, and thrust himself inside her, claiming what she offered.
He tempered the severe urge with a grimace.
Nay.
Ecstasy was not his to claim. Not this night.
Beneath him, Chloe squirmed. Eyes closed, she turned her head side to side. Her teeth pricked the soft fullness of her lower lip. Against the small of his back, the firm press of fingertips urged him to move. To ease the ache she shared.
That, he could do.
“I cannot be your escape, Chloe.” Lowering his mouth to hers, he eased his weight off her body and stretched out along her side. “But I can give you what you desire.” He gathered the hem of her thin gown in his hand and slid the material to her waist. His palm curved over the slope of her hip, cupped the weighty firmness of her bottom as she lifted her leg to set a foot on the mattress.
It required every bit of self-control he could summon, and some he did not realize he possessed, to ignore the scrape of her nails across his chest. The seeking nature of her fingers as she fanned them over his abdomen. Then lower, until she caressed his swollen length. But before she could rob him of thought and free the willfulness of his body, he slipped his fingers beneath the thin band of her panties and eased them between her legs.
Chloe arched into his hand with a low moan. Her thighs fell apart, inviting his caress. Lucan ground his teeth together, determined to resist the silken promise of her damp inner folds, and stroked her hard feminine bud. He subtly eased his body away from her questing fingers.
“Please,” Chloe whispered as she broke their kiss. “Let me touch you.”
In the slight darkness, her gaze held his. He did not need the light to see the rich intensity of her amber eyes. He saw them each time he closed his own. Knew every burnished fleck of gold. He did not answer her breathless request. Instead, he dropped his mouth to the delicate hollow of her throat and eased one finger inside her slickened opening.
Chloe’s nails dug into his shoulders as a gasp tore from her throat. Lucan withdrew, to slowly enter her again. Lacking the courage to witness her release wash across her expression, he closed his eyes and listened to the rasp of her breath. The soft mewl of pleasure that tumbled off her lips. Around his finger, her inner muscles contracted hard. He thrust once more, and Chloe came to a swift, fierce release. Her moist flesh pulsed around him, her hips bucked against his palm. From the recesses of her throat, a soft cry ripped free.