Powerful Magic (49 page)

          
One large finger gently lifted her chin.
 
"You don't

want?"

          
"To be responsible for..."
 
She waved her hand in the air.
 
"I'm not sure I can lay in your arms and not want you."

          
To her stunned amazement he threw back his head and laughed.
 
A wicked glint in his eye, he leaned closer, brushing the tip of her nose with his mouth.
 
"Aye, but nothing was said about you finding your own pleasure.
 
Tis only me who must not indulge."

          
"I cannot..."
 
Her words faded as he captured her mouth in another deep, drugging kiss, making her burn.
 
Still exploring her mouth with his tongue, he effortlessly lifted her in his massive arms and carried her to the bed.
 

          
She moaned, both aroused and shocked, yet unable to keep from moving her body against him.
 
Part of her wanted to be strong, like him - if he must deny himself such pleasure, then in all fairness, so should she.
 
The other part of her - that wild, wanton, secret part that she hadn't even known existed, urged her to take what bliss he offered, in the same unselfish spirit in which he gave it.

          
Then he loosened her gown in an effortless motion and removed her clothing, exposing her overheated skin to his burning gaze and his clever, clever touch.

          
Ah Kenric
, her mind cried out in protest, while the hot fire he caused in her blood overrode it.

          
When his mouth left hers she made a weak sound of protest, until he captured her nipple and suckled gently.
 
Heat suffused her and mindless, heedless, she arched against him, no longer conscious of her nakedness and the fact that he was still fully clothed.

          
As she did, a tormented groan escaped him and this finally gave her pause.
 
Opening her eyes, she rose up on her elbows and tried to push him away.
 

          
He raised his head, his gaze hooded and burning.
 
"Do not," he growled, sounding like a man in pain, "deny us this."

          
"But."
 
Unable to help herself, she looked pointedly at his braes, and the awesome bulge of his arousal that swelled there. "You cannot--"

          
"Hush, my Megan."
 
Bending his head, he touched her lips lightly with his own, effectively silencing her.
 
"I want to pleasure you.
 
I will survive, in fact this will make me stronger."

          
Warrior/Lover/Soulhalf
.

          
His mouth teased her, searing a path down the curve cheek, her throat and shoulder.
 
Again he pleasured her breasts, again she found herself arching herself to meet him.
 
The stroking of his fingers sent jolts of lightening through her, and she parted her thighs eagerly at his touch.
  
           
Aching, on fire, she gave herself up to the sheer delight of his amazing hands, then gasped when she felt the moist heat of his mouth as he kissed her where moments before only his fingers had caressed.

          
"Kenric!"
 
She gasped, entwining her hands in his thick, dark hair, meaning only to push his head away, but instead holding it in place as he stroked inside of her with his tongue.
 
Oh - that such bliss existed, she had never known, never imagined.

          
It built like a storm, like lightening and rain and thunder all at once, and she cried out loud from the sheer power of it.
 
Release overcame her, flowing through her, a honeyed river of her essence, to him, where he feasted like a man starving, stopping only when she thought she could take no more.

          
Limp, exhausted, she wanted him in her then, wanted to feel the swollen hardness of him fill her, though she knew it was forbidden.

          
With a crooked grin, he backed away from her, holding up his hand to stave her off when she would have gone to him.

          
"Not... now."
 
His breathing sounded loud and labored, his expression contorted like a man in torment.
 
"Give me a moment."

          
Backing away, he left her then, leaving her feeling curiously both satisfied and guilty, complete and frustrated. He did not return until several hours later, climbing stiffly

into bed beside her and rolling on to his side while she pretended to sleep.
 

#

          
It was in the dark of the night that it happened.
 
The unwanted knowledge came to Megan in a blinding flash while she watched Kenric sleep, the way such things as intuition and brilliant insights often do.
 
She and Kenric
would
make love, at least once before the battle to come.
 
They had to, to generate the necessary power to ensure that he won the battle.
 
Hadn't the prophecy said that the two soul halves must join?
 

          
Despite his belief that his power would disappear, she knew they had to mate.
 
Whatever he would lose would be temporary at best, but what he would gain would last him forever.
 

          
And then, once they had joined bodies and spirits, once they had produced the necessary magic, she would no longer be needed here.
 
Somehow she knew her fear was on target, that despite what she or Kenric wanted, she would be returned to her own time, after the battle was won.

          
Her purpose would have been served.

          
Either way, she was damned.
 
If she didn't make love with Kenric, the power would not be summoned, the prophecy unfulfilled.
 
And, she admitted to a purely selfish motive as well. If she didn't make love with Kenric before she left, she might never do so again.

#

          
What a night.
 
His willpower tested to the limits of his endurance, Kenric had not slept much.
 
Though, he grinned savagely in the rose-tinted dawn, Megan now slept the deep sleep of the thoroughly exhausted.
 

          
He had pleasured her in every way known to man.
 
Just thinking of the musky taste of her, the gentle rain of her desire upon his lips, made him hard and ready.
 
Again.
 
As if he hadn't spent the entire night aroused and throbbing.

          
But he had spent it with the woman he loved.
 

          
Every inch of Megan's delectable body now knew the touch of his mouth, the gentle raking of his teeth.
 
He had explored her and aroused her, until she had arched her back and begged him to enter her.
 
He had wanted to bury himself in her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

          
From somewhere, somehow, he had found the strength of will to refuse, bringing her to ecstacy instead with his mouth and his hands.
  

          
For himself, he took nothing, other than the pleasure of knowing he had satisfied his woman.
 

          
And now, with the dawn creeping silently up on the horizon, the sexual frustration inside him made him want to take his sword and battle someone.
 
Anyone.
 
Anything to rid himself of the raging fire that burned inside him.

          
Arwydd would be pleased.
 
The magic would explode from him like lightening this morn.
 
He could only imagine what he would be like after a week or two of this.
 

          
Myrddin had better watch his back.
 
He would be no match for Kenric once this time of training was finished.
 

          
Arwydd was already waiting for him.
 
Hands folded serenely in front of him, the wizened faerie smiled gently.
 
"So you survived?"

          
"I did."
 
Kenric said grimly.
 
"And now we'd best begin."

#

          
A week flew by, slowly for Megan.
 
Kenric was so exhausted by the intensive training that, more often than not, he dropped into sleep as soon as he climbed into bed.
 

          
There was no repeat of the night when he'd pleasured her in so many ways, taking nothing for himself.
 
She told herself she did not really want one, it wasn't fair to Kenric after all.
 

          
It didn't help that every night, before he fell asleep, he gathered her close in his muscular arms and held her.
 
Never had she felt so cherished.
 
And never had she felt so sexually frustrated.
 
She wanted him so badly it hurt.
 
She lay awake for hours, listening to his deep, even breathing, inhaling the spicy, masculine scent of him, and aching.
  

          
Yet once they gave in to the nearly uncontrollable passion that simmered inside of them, their time together would be over.
 
This was both her worst fear and her greatest desire.

          
This morn, she'd seen Kenric off with a forced smile.
 
He'd been gruff himself, taut and full of a restless energy that she certainly could relate to.
 

          
All around them, things returned to normal.
 
Lord Brighton, finally accepting that Megan would never be his, left Rune to return to the mortal world and search for his own soul mate.
 
Megan was glad.
 
After all, she had enough to worry about without adding one more thing.

          
Like her thoughts of him had called him, Kenric burst through the door.
 
Barely inside, he stopped, his legs spread apart in a warrior's stance, his eyes hard and full of sorrow.

          
Immediately, she rushed to his side.
 
"What has happened?"

          
He stepped back.
 
"Do not touch me, my love."
 
The warning was low voiced, vibrating with emotion.
 
"It has been decided I am ready."

          
Blankly, she stared up at him.
 
"Ready?"
 
Her heart began to pound.
 
"But it has only been one week.
  
They said you needed--"

          
"I am ready."
 
His tone was so bleak, she trembled.

          
"When?"
 
She asked simply, because there was nothing left to say.
 

          
Kenric lifted one shoulder in an attempt at a casual shrug.
 
The very air seemed to resonate with stirrings of some primal power.

          
"Soon.
 
Even now they release the spell that kept us hidden from Myrddin's scrying.
 
Because of this, I will stay apart from you this one night.
 
Then together we will seek out Myrddin and finish it.
 
We leave Rune in the morning." With those words and one last look of desperate longing, he turned to go.

          
"Wait."
 
Heart heavy, Megan knew it was time for her to play her part.
 
"You must stay with me this night."

          
One dark brow rose as he waited to hear her explanation.

          
She licked her lips, trying to summon up the right words.
 
"The prophecy says we must join for the magic to be made.
 
Tonight you and I must make love, to ensure you will be victorious in the battle."