Retribution (10 page)

Read Retribution Online

Authors: B. C. Burgess

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #New Adult & College, #Angels, #Witches & Wizards, #Paranormal & Urban

BOOK: Retribution
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Like he would have to. “What is it you want?”

“You,” he answered. Then he kissed her nose, cheeks, eyelids, and lips. “Every free moment we get, I want you in my arms. I want us to hold and love each other like there's no tomorrow, and I want to treasure each moment like it's our last. If we have to die, I want to die knowing I held the most amazing woman in the world the way she deserved to be held, that I showed her how much I love and need her, and that I’m happier than I’ve ever been when I’m with her. I want to spend the rest of our lives, no matter how short they may be, showing you these things while touching your soul and letting you touch mine.” He kissed away more tears then found her eyes again. “Will you please let me do that, Layla? It's all I want. It's all I need to make everything worth it. If you’ll give me this, I’ll fight every day for the rest of my life.”

His sweet and sincere request grabbed her heartstrings and yanked, leaving her a vulnerable ball of raging emotions. Tears burst forth as sobs exploded from her chest, and she burrowed into him, her body quaking as love and sadness grasped it and fiercely shook. Her fingers clawed at him, attempting to pull him closer, unconcerned with anything besides his feel and his flesh and the man beneath its surface. She wanted to melt into him. She wanted to be a part of him. She wanted to be securely nestled within him, right next to his heart.

She flattened her palms on his pecs, her cheek pressed against his neck, her lips perched on his shoulder. Then she mentally urged his soul to touch her, attempting to draw his love and devotion and strength and sincerity to the surface of his skin. She just wanted to feel it.
 

He gasped, jolting as her magic clutched his insides and pulled. Then he exhaled hugely when the force reached the surface of his skin and collided with hers. The atmosphere flashed, and the air filled with heat, a peaceful cocoon delivering magical morphine straight into her pores. This was exactly what she wanted… what she needed. It felt like every wonderful thing he'd ever said to her and done for her had been woven into a blanket that was now wrapped around her body, delivering much needed love, security and hope. It felt like she was nestled in his soul, right next to his heart, right where she wanted to be.

She sighed his name. Then she selfishly held onto the feeling for over a minute before letting the tangible emotions slip back into his body.

“How did you do that?” he breathlessly asked.

“I shouldn't have, Quin. I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he assured, pulling her face from his neck. “How did you do that?”

“I don't know. I just did.”

“Do you know what that was?”

She bit her lip then guiltily whispered. “Your soul?” As she said the words aloud, the absurdity and presumptuousness of her actions sank in, and she panicked. “I'm so sorry, Quin. I should never mess with things like that…”

He put a finger to her lips and stopped her babbling. “It was my soul,” he whispered, scanning the air around him. Then he returned his gaze to hers. “And do you know what I saw?”

“You saw something?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, a grin stretching between deep dimples. “I saw my aura.”

“You what?” she asked, looking at the bright haze around him. “You saw your aura?”

He took her cheeks and gave her a happy kiss. “Yes, my perfect, beautiful, amazing angel, I saw my aura.”

The magic left Layla feeling sedate, and his joy was contagious, so her smile came naturally. “I told you it's magnificent.”

“It is magnificent. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because of you. Once I realized what I was looking at, I saw you. You're all over my aura, and you make it shine beautifully.”

“It's your heart and soul, Quin, not mine.”

“You're wrong. They are yours. I just saw visual proof of that.”

Her throat tightened as her heart swelled. “If you keep saying things like that, you're going to make me lose it again. I can’t seem to control my emotions.”

“Stop trying. I want to see them. I want to see everything about you. Remember? Live every second like it's our last. That's what I want.”

She slid her hand from his chest to his cheek. “That's what I want, too, Quin. No more wasted moments.”

“You're not going to make me beg?” he asked, flashing a grin.

She guiltily looked down as she quietly responded. “That would be a wasted moment.”

“Hey,” he whispered, and her thick lashes fluttered up, revealing the deep, emerald eyes that, on so many unpredictable occasions, left him breathless.
 

“Hey back.”

His lungs found air again, and he pulled a curl to his nose, sweetening the oxygen. “Even if I die tomorrow, I'll be able to say I was a lucky man; that I lived a blessed life where my most amazing dreams came true. You've made my life breathtakingly beautiful and uniquely divine, and no matter how this turns out, I'll never regret one second I've had with you. Eleven days is short, but it's been long enough for you to provide me with more happiness than most people discover in a lifetime. For that, I owe you my heart and soul, and they're yours.”

More tears slipped from her lids, and he quickly kissed them away while working his fingers into her hair. With her cheeks momentarily dry, he moved his lips to hers, and she could feel herself getting sucked in, just as she could feel herself being pulled back. She was halfway between the dark state-of-mind their troubles generated, and the glorious peace-of-mind their relationship provided. If someone stood in her brain, they could look to the left and see a black abyss, then look to the right and see a bright and beautiful haze.

Layla turned toward the light, snapping the chains stretching from the dark while moving toward the silver wisps sweetly summoning her. No wasted moments. There was still so much she wanted to do with him, so much she wanted to show and tell him; sides of him she wanted to see and words she wanted to hear. There were parts of him she had yet to touch, and ways he had yet to touch her.

She closed her eyes, turning her intense focus to the sensations produced by contact with him – the blood pulsing her pout each time his lips brushed hers; the twitching at the corners of her mouth each time his tongue lightly licked; the tickling of the nerve-endings around her eyelids when his thumb dried her tears; and the tingles that stretched across her scalp when he gathered her hair in his fist.

She could also feel the rhythm of her heartbeat – solid and steady; and her breathing – slow and deep. And by expanding her focus, she could feel her skin thrumming at her pulse points, and the air whispering across her feet. She'd managed to search out all the sensations her body was undergoing and could concentrate on all of them at once. She'd heard of others achieving a similar state-of-mind through meditation, but this was the first time she’d ever experienced such intense self-awareness.

Keeping the feel of her body in the forefront of her mind, she vanished her robe then did the same with his shorts. When her skin was exposed to the air, when it should have chilled, her heart beat hard, and hot blood rushed her veins, warming and stimulating her flesh.
 

She blindly found his hand then drifted his fingertips down her neck, reveling in the tingles and goose bumps sprouting along the trail. As she pulled his hand lower, a chill swept across her shoulders and shot down her spine, and she shuddered from head to toe.
 

His heavenly appendages were between her breasts, warm and pliable, so she took his forefinger and brushed it across one of her nipples. The flesh puckered beneath his compliant touch, and her breathing deepened as she provided her other nipple with the same treatment. She slid his fingers lower, quivering when they flitted across her abdomen. Then she formed her hand to the back of his and slipped it between her thighs.

Her breathing was no longer slow, but it remained deep, and her heartbeat had gone from solid and steady to powerful and sporadic. He wasn't kissing her, but his parted lips touched hers as she breathed into his mouth, compelling his fingers to press and caress her in all the right places.
 

If ever there was a heaven on earth, Quin was in it, his body throbbing as he watched his angel’s expression, inhaled her sweet breath, and touched her sultry sex. It was difficult – keeping his fingers relaxed as she manipulated them to her pleasure. He itched to do things his own way, explore more territory while staking claims on more prosperous realms. But to see and feel her leave her troubles behind using his hand as transportation merited more than mere willpower and patience. He’d sell his soul to be at the center of all her experiments, to remain her mode of transportation, so he remained motionless, his heart thundering as his lungs swelled.

Her back arched, her alert nipples entertaining his chest as she took his fingers in both hands and opened her thighs, exposing herself to full discovery.

He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard while willing his hand to stay limp in hers. Then he returned his gaze to her face. Her expressions and aura were beyond stunning as she worked her way up the mountain of pleasure; and each crinkle of her nose, tweak of her eyebrows, and flutter of her lashes sent an extra burst of need down his spine to his groin. She was almost to the top. He could see it and feel it.

She sharply inhaled and shifted her hips forward, sliding two of his fingers inside while adding pressure against his palm, and he severed his restraint, grasping her outside and in. Her fingers stretched as her palms pressed, and a rapturous hum rolled from her tongue, vibrated across his starving lips.

She jolted before going limp, and he relaxed his hand, giving her muscles a break. But as soon as her blood slowed, calming the rapid pulse he could so easily and erotically feel, he began pushing her back up the mountain.

Layla didn’t realize his intent at first, as her insides were flooded with sensations and his touch was so tender, but when she expected his fingers to withdraw, yet they advanced, her eyes popped open. He grinned, humored by her shock and happy to have the upper hand, but she wasn’t going to yield so easily.

Keeping her eyes on his, she reached for his stomach, then followed the ridged slant of his flexed abdomen. When she found what she was looking for, she found it hard, and she firmly grasped him with both hands while curling her tongue around his.

She'd meant to get a reaction out of him, to drain his ever present control, but she didn’t expect what happened next. His chest rumbled, his fingers flexed and curled inside her, and his magic clutched her body, supporting her weight as he lifted her from the bed and pressed her against the wall.

She flashed her gaze from the ceiling a few feet above to the bed several feet below. Then she found his confident stare as his mouth came down on hers and his fingers abandoned her body. His erection throbbed in her hands, daring her to let go, and the emptiness left by his fingers joined in the chorus.

She relinquished her grip, squeezing his shoulders instead, and he grasped the back of her thighs, gliding sensitive skin over his arousal as he lifted her up and spread her open. His lips skimmed her jaw as he positioned himself at her entrance. Then he bit her earlobe as he pushed hard into her body.

Layla screamed, rocked by a painful yet pleasing jolt. He’d never filled her so forcefully and quickly… so roughly, and somewhere in the back of her swirling mind she realized this was what she’d get when she attempted to play games with him.

He pulled away so she could fill her lungs, but they emptied again when he powerfully moved back inside. She clamped her teeth together, caught in a riptide of pleasure and pain as he grinded inside her, forcing her to conform to his girth. Then he tilted his head back, letting the thunder in his chest resound his pleasure throughout the room.

She breathlessly watched his flexed neck and jaw, her lips quivering as she ached and pulsed around him. Then he met her gaze and lifted her legs higher, moving between them with impassioned purpose.

Her hands slipped from his shoulders and slapped the wall, and her eyes rolled back as he pushed her to the edge. Leaving her left leg trembling around his waist, he took her jaw. Then he forced her to look at him as he shoved her off the cliff. She should have been embarrassed – screaming his name as she looked him right in the eye, but his reverent expression merely fueled her orgasm.

Drifting his thumb across her lips, he smiled and moved in for a kiss, and though she’d been the one to finish, she got the sense he’d won. In one of the most honest exchanges they’d shared, she’d given up a bigger piece of herself than he had; it was her who had surrendered control and submitted to the pleasure and the pain it entailed… submitted to him. And it was obvious, now, that this was the way it would always be. He may let her win outside the bedroom, but in this, he’d always have the upper hand. She wondered if he’d groomed her this way, taking things painstakingly slow so she’d understand he set the pace, that he was the authority on the subject, not her. Then she realized she didn’t care. Submitting to his carnal desires was the most amazing feeling in the world.

His lips toyed with hers as his eyes glinted, and she knew he was aware of her comprehension as well as her acceptance. And she found immense pleasure in giving him what he wanted. About damn time she had a way to tip the scales.

His lips left hers. Then he pulled her to his chest and leaned back in mid-air, letting her rest on his torso. She twitched, he throbbed, and her quivering body ached for more. She kissed one solid pec, then the other. Then she slid her tongue over his heart while dragging her palms down his tight sides.

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