Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (67 page)

She raised her head, planting her chin on his chin and looked up into his face. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head. “I was wondering if tomorrow would finally be sunny.”

She snorted. “You’re living in the wrong province. We in the west have given up on this mythical thing called sunlight.”

He sighed in feigned defeat. “Guess we’ll have to move.”

“You know where I want to live?”

“Hmm?”

“The pond.” She rested her cheek on his breast plate. “Nothing can touch us there. We’d be safe and together.”

Her words were nails in a nail gun. Each one pierced his heart without her ever meaning to.

“I’ll keep you safe, Riley,” he murmured. “No matter what I have to do. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“I know.” She stroked his abdomen with her fingers. “I’ll keep you safe, too.”

At this point, with her growing strength, she probably would be the one to keep them both safe. As relieved as it made him feel to know she could protect herself, he hated that she would no longer have need for him.

Pushing the thought aside, he rolled them, taking her beneath him so he stretched alongside her on his side. He skimmed the back of his fingers along her cheek. Turning his touch, he glided them along her jaw to trace her lips. With the same feather light caress, he drifted down the column of her throat, to the ridges running across her chest to her right shoulder.

“Do they bother you?” she asked, searching his eyes.

“Yes,” he murmured. “But only because you were hurt and I wasn’t there.”

She captured his hand, brought his fingers to her lips and kissed them. “You can’t always be there.”

No. He couldn’t. It was a cruel, cold fact. One he hated with everything in him. If he could somehow sew himself to her, he would.

“I don’t always want you to be there either,” she continued. “I need to take care of myself.”

He skimmed the pad of his thumb over the curve of her chin. “You’ve done nothing else your whole life. I like taking care of you.”

She smiled that smile that made his heart hurt. “Sometimes. But sometimes, I need to do it myself.”

He nodded. “But I reserve the right to step in if it looks like you need me.”

She crinkled her nose. “I’ll call you.”

He scowled playfully. “I’m not sure I like being shunned to the sidelines.”

Her laugh made him grin. “You’d never get shunned to the sidelines. You will always be with me, not in front of me or behind me. I want you next to me.”

His smile melted away as he searched her face. “I can live with that position.”

Still grinning, she hooked a slender arm around his neck and drew him down to her lips. He didn’t hesitate. He took the soft, sweet kiss she offered. His fingers ghosted down the length of her arm to the leather band fastened securely around her wrist. But it was the sleek, silky thing just beneath it that had him breaking her enchanting kiss to see.

It was the ribbon from their binding fastened just beneath his pelt. He raised his head and peered at her questioningly.

She returned his gaze with a sheepish half smile. “I wasn’t sure I was allowed to keep it, but I…” She touched the silk band. “I wanted a piece of tonight with me always.”

If he hadn’t been hopelessly in love with her already, that would have done it.

He kissed her, pouring every ounce of his love and adoration over her. He wanted to drown her in it. He wanted to embed it so deep into her soul that nothing could ever erase it. Her arms wound around his neck, holding him in place while she greedily returned his hunger. Her response was electrifying. He felt the surge of lust and power break through his body in a single, hard wave so hot and heady he was crushed by the force. The liquefaction of her supple body only intensified the burning desire to claim her, to make her his forever. He reached for the sheets keeping her from him. He tore them away, kicking them to the foot of the bed and leaving her defenseless against his greedy mouth. He gripped her hip and dragged her further against him as though her nearness could somehow soothe the agony she’d caused.

“I won’t hurt you,” he panted into her swollen lips. “I need you to believe that.”

She nodded, her ragged breath drummed through the room. “I do.”

His mouth went to her neck, to where the little pulse should have been beating in time to her heart rate. “You smell like sin,” he told her, nibbling on the curve of her jaw. “And addiction.” He growled deep in his throat. “God, I’m addicted to you.”

“Don’t pull away this time,” she whispered against his mouth, her hands going to the elastic band of his sweats.

It was on the tip of his tongue to laugh. Nothing short of a nuclear explosion was getting him off her now. She was wiggled herself beneath him, trapping him between her knees and he forgot everything else.

Leaving the warmth of her arms for only a moment, he drew back just long enough to shed his clothes. He went to her next, bunching her nightgown and liberating her of the material. He feasted on her with his eyes, with his hands, with his mouth. He left no inch of her undiscovered by him. He built and shattered her until her incoherent begging echoed through the room, through his soul and only then did he gather her wet, trembling body into his arms and sink home into the velvety sheath of her body.

Mingled sounds of pleasure rang like an age old melody through the night. Greedy hands and desperate lips sank claim over every expanse of bared skin. Names were whispered as fingers raked over sweat kissed skin. The night flickered and danced, panting over the entwined couple lost in the sea of their own existence. Nothing else existed but shimmering light in the distance beckoning them to shore. Euphoric bliss wove over tensed bodies as earth shattered around them in their release.

Long after the sweat had gelled on their skin, they lay entwined in a slack tangle of arms and legs, of slow kisses and soft sighs. Riley smiled up at him and he swore he could conjure the whole world at that moment.

“I love you,” he murmured, meaning it from the bottom of his very heart and soul.

Her smile widened as she swiped damp curls off his brow. “Good. It wouldn’t feel right if I was the only one.”

He nipped at her finger playfully, making her squeak. “Brat.”

Grinning, he dragged them both onto their sides and fumbled for the sheets tangled by their feet. He covered her, cocooning her in the material and his arms. She burrowed into him, a kitten seeking heat and in that moment he swore that he would find a way to protect her, even if he had to sell his soul to the devil himself to make it happen.

It was nearly dawn when Octavian was awakened from a deep sleep by a pair of soft, moist lips roaming his chest. He was super, painfully alert when said lips paved a determined path down the center of his abdomen to places that hurt like nobody’s business in excitement for the attention it was being shown under small hands.

“Are you awake, Octavian?” a soft, seductive voice whispered in the dark.

Oh yeah, he was awake. “Uh huh,” he breathed, nearly panting. “What are you doing?”

“Waking you up,” the voice purred just before she did things he swore someone who looked so innocent shouldn’t know a damn thing about. Hell, he knew first hand of said innocence. Yet she’d captured him in some weird limbo between absolute torture and heart stopping pleasure. And it never even crossed his mind at the time to worry about the fangs.

Where in the world… did it even matter? He was sure he’d implode if she stopped now to answer his so very unimportant question. No way. He wasn’t saying a word.

This went on for several minutes; sometimes moving with the slowest pace imaginable until he was certain he’d go mad if she didn’t hurry. Other times, she worked him so hard, he was certain he’d embarrass himself if she didn’t stop. But just when he was ready to cry out in frustration, the witch pulled away.

His whimper was met with a giggle as she moved lithely up his body and showed him just what an amazing teacher he was. Her hiss of pleasure nearly killed him as her head fell back, her hair a crimson waterfall spilling down her back. Her body arched as he filled her, a goddess rising from the tides.

“Touch me,” she whispered in a voice made for this moment.

“Show me,” he said, setting his hands on her hips. “My hands are at your service.”

She did and he made good on his promise. He took everything she offered with both hands. He dosed her body in gasoline and let her light the match and go up in flames. And God did she burn beautifully.

It took most of his control not to flip her onto her back and set them both ablaze over and over again. It took all his strength to let her take control, let her set the pace, let her drive them both insane as she discovered her bodies’ wants.

When she shuddered with his name a sob on her lips, he was there to catch her collapsed body. Only then did he grant himself release with her tiny whimpers piloting him.

Sated, sleepy and grinning like an idiot, he pulled the sheets back around them for a second time that night, tucked her into his arms, and without a word, they drifted back to sleep.

She was gone. He knew it even before he opened his eyes, before he sent his hand out across the great expanse of cold sheets. He groaned as his fingers curled into emptiness. His eyes opened, and blinked as he surveyed the room. Everything looked the same, which momentarily made him question his sanity. There was no way his imagination was creative enough to conjure his night with her. He was certain it had happened. Hadn’t it?

Sitting up, he raked one hand through his hair as he used the other to throw back the sheets. Nope. Not a dream. So where was his blushing bride? Wasn’t there a rule that they were supposed to stay in bed all day on their honeymoon?

Still upset about waking up alone, he stumbled into the bathroom for a shower, a quick shave and fresh clothes. By the time he jogged downstairs, he felt more awake and less grumpy.

Gorje inclined his head as Octavian passed. Octavian gave him a wave and padded into the dining area. One sweep of the room. No Riley. But Reggie and Gideon were there, playing cards, or more like, Gideon cheating at cards and Reggie falling for it.

“Hello dear brother,” Gideon said, tossing down a four of clubs. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing your face today. Misplace something?” he asked when Octavian did another survey of the room.

“Where’s Riley?”

“Ah, you’re lovely wife is outback with Magnus. He’s teaching her to hunt.”

Octavian frowned. “Why didn’t they wait for me?”

Gideon and Reggie exchanged smirking glances. “Something about you being tired.” Gideon rolled his tongue over his teeth. “Was she too much for you?”

Octavian flipped him the bird and left the room with his brother’s riotous laughter following him back into the kitchen.

“Boss?” Gorje’s gruff baritone interrupted his progress into the back.

Octavian stopped and glanced at the Raver, then at the cleaver fisted in his meaty grasp and raised an eyebrow. “Did I do something special to offend you today?”

Gorje blinked, glanced down at the knife, set it aside. “We’re out of dead man’s tongue.”