Retribution (13 page)

Layla left her sanctuary and glanced around. “You mean destiny?”

“Yes,” Kemble confirmed. “Under the circumstances, we wonder if you and Quinlan's relationship isn't meant to lead to bigger things.”

“Right,” Layla mumbled, cuddling back into Quin.

He shifted her into a cradle hold and stood. “The bizarre circumstances haven’t escaped our attention, but we haven't discussed it or decided how we feel about it. What do you think, love? Got an opinion on the matter?”

She shrugged, her eyes glued to his chest, her fingernail tracing hearts on his pecs. “Not so much at the moment. Ask me again when Agro's dead.”

“Good answer,” Quin approved. “Our future is worth considering, but for now, we're going to concentrate on surviving our confrontation with Agro. Is there anything else we need to deal with tonight?”

“No,” Caitrin answered. “Stay alert and be ready to meet behind Lann's.”

“Will do,” Quin assured, carrying Layla to the door.

“And don't reveal your auras and bonded lights until everyone's here tomorrow,” Caitrin added. “You'll answer far less questions if you answer them all at once.”

“That's fine. We won't be leaving the house until they're here.” He burrowed into Layla’s curls and whispered in her ear. “Conceal us.”

She did. Then they both mumbled
goodnight
as the door swung open.

“Goodnight,” their family called back. Then Caitrin laughed as he shut the door.

The house remained dark as Quin carried Layla through the living room, his lips on hers, their clothes magically discarded at the door. When he reached the kitchen, he abandoned the kiss and wrapped her legs around his waist.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever you feed me,” she answered.

A rush of cold air blew across her backside when he opened the fridge, and she giggled as her arms tightened around his neck. “That's cold.”

He gave her a dose of magical heat with a kiss to her forehead. Then he took note of the fridge’s contents before closing the door and carrying her to the table.

He sat in a chair with her on his lap, and for a while he just watched her face while playing with the curls falling over her cheeks. When he touched his lips to hers and whispered, her lungs expanded as her heart fluttered.

“You're so beautiful, Layla. Everything else looks ordinary in comparison.”

Unable to properly breathe, she merely mouthed the words
thank you
.

Taking her face in both hands, he tilted her head back, exposing her throat to his kisses, and she clutched his sides, getting lost in a wave of tingles. Her lungs quickened as her legs flexed around his thighs. Then he suddenly let go and leaned back, leaving her on the edge of insanity alone.

She peeked with one eye and found him grinning at her while holding up a bowl of fruit. “Ready to eat?”

He offered her a strawberry, and she smirked as she took a bite, her heart tap dancing on her ribs. His gaze stayed on her mouth as he vanished the stem. Then he dug back into the bowl. “You know, when I took you to breakfast the day after we met, you wouldn't let me watch you eat.”

“You didn't ask.”

He laughed and touched a grape to her lips. “You would have thought I was crazy if I had.”

She sucked the fruit in and grinned. “Can you imagine how red my face would have gotten? But you’d already charmed me with your wizardly charisma, so I probably would have agreed. Then I would have choked because of my nerves.”

“I would have saved you.”

“Which would have been pointless, because I would have died of embarrassment once I realized what happened.”

He gave her another bite. Then he set the bowl aside and waited for her to finish chewing. Once she had, he took her by the waist and lifted her onto the table. He candidly stared at her naked body for several seconds, taking in every inch by the glow of her aura. Then he moved his mouth to her hip. “You're not so embarrassed anymore.”

She absently reached for the bowl, popping a bite into her mouth while watching his kisses glide along the crease of her upper thigh. Then his tongue dipped between her legs, making her jolt and swallow a half-eaten slice of kiwi. “Does that disappoint you?” she breathed.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her with glinting black eyes. “Does it look like it disappoints me?”

She grinned as she shook her head no. Then she pulled him to his feet and fed him a bite. “You're not eating.”

“I have all night to eat,” he countered, grabbing a strawberry before sending the bowl away. “Don't worry about my stomach.”

“I'm not worried about anything right now,” she whispered, unable to look away from his hungry eyes.

“Good,” he approved. “That's exactly how I want it to be.”
 

He held up the strawberry, and as he watched her take a bite, he slowly pressed inside her body. She struggled to chew and swallow as a moan vibrated her throat. Then she lay back on the table, ready to accept anything he wanted to give her.

They didn’t sleep that night, not until the sun slithered through the cracks in the curtain, at which point she fell asleep on his chest… with him inside her. He passed out soon after, and it was a true testament to how exhausted he was that he was able to do so.
 

Chapter 8

The desert sun crept through polished windows and across a woven rug, pouring over Guthrie’s eyelids. He blinked while shielding the harsh rays with his hand. Then he looked around, finding Lynette sitting beside him, magically scrawling something on a piece of paper. Last night’s love puppet was draped over his midsection, her limp mouth mere inches from his manhood.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “What are you writing?”

“A list,” Lynette answered.

The sleeping woman stirred, and Guthrie groaned as her soft murmur whispered across bare flesh, bringing him erect. “Damn you, Lynette.”

“What?” Lynette coyly returned. “She was fun… and well rewarded for her willingness.”

Guthrie looked down, and while the responsible part of him wanted to remove the witch’s head from his lap, the depraved part of him wanted to move her mouth a few inches to the left. “I hope she isn’t one of the soothsayers we’re taking with us.”

“She isn’t. I checked. She cleanses auras; they call themselves expurgators.”

“Good. The last thing we need is a soothsayer looking to screw her way to a better life. I doubt she has it any easier than we did at that age.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Guthrie? Look around. We never had shelter like this, or food like we ate last night. Not even the most privileged soldiers in the Dark Elite see amenities like these. Vortigern’s students may be his pawns, but at least he allows them daily comforts.”

Guthrie curiously met Lynette’s stormy stare. “You think that makes it better?”

“Yes,” she firmly answered, “square meals and soft beds are better than tents and community cauldrons.”

“I guess,” he conceded, looking away. “We need to get her out of here. We don’t have time to waste.”

Lynette was quiet for a moment. Then she gave him her list and scooted closer, laying her head on the hip opposite the one the student occupied.

Doing his best to ignore the fact that his cock throbbed between two sets of lips, Guthrie scanned the paper, finding the names of several Dark Elite soldiers. “What’s this?”

“That,” Lynette answered, taking him in her hand, “is a list of soldiers who’d kill to upgrade from soup to steak… soldiers who’d welcome a shift in power.”

Guthrie balled up the paper and threw it across the room. Then he opened his mouth to reprimand her mutinous behavior, but he couldn’t find the words… only a groan elicited by her lips parting around his erection.

Chapter 9

Layla was having a good dream… a
very
good dream. She was walking down the beach, her hand in Quin’s, her bare soles sinking into silky sand. Haystack Rock jutted from frothy waves, a mere silhouette against a bright moon, and a puppy – a teeny King Charles spaniel – bounded beside them, occasionally distracted by a clump of kelp.

Quin squeezed Layla’s hand, and as she turned to smile at him, he dove in for a deep kiss. The tide crept up, soaking their feet, and she shivered as he gripped her backside and picked her up. Only then did she realize she was naked. There was nothing to stop him from pushing inside her, which he did, right there on the beach!

Yes, it was an incredible dream… and it merged into sweet reality when she awoke to find she wasn’t merely dreaming Quin was hard inside her. He
was
hard inside her, stretching her with his morning arousal.

She moaned and flexed, so turned on by the dream the real finish line was in sight. Then she jolted when a growl tore from his chest. Without warning, she was on her back, and he had her by the collarbone and inner thigh, holding her open as he plunged deep inside and stayed there. His muscles rippled as he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Then he glared down at her, his gaze a turbulent mixture of anger and need.

Body breathless and yearning beneath his rough grip, Layla stared back with wide eyes, unsure how to perceive this side of him.

When his name squeaked from her pulsing lips, another rumble barked from his chest, but his grip on her collarbone eased as he leaned close. “Never again,” he sternly stipulated. “We can’t sleep like that.”

Ha! He’d lost control!

Layla was tempted to grin, but he was pissed, so she stifled her smug humor and slid her hands to his butt. “Don’t stop. It feels good.”

The request garnered another quiet growl as he moved inside her, and though he maintained control the remainder of the time, he played rougher than usual. Probably because he was still mad at himself, and… well, she might have egged him on.

They peaked loud and hard. Then his tension melted as he burrowed through her unruly hair and whispered in her ear. “Did I hurt you?”

She breathlessly laughed as her vision cleared. “No.” It was the truth… mostly. She’d experienced a little pain – in his grip and around his girth. But she was learning some aches could feel incredible. “I love how tender you usually are, Quin, but that felt amazing.”

He kissed her ear then leaned up, searching her for injuries. When he found red marks on her clavicle, he grimaced and slid healing fingers over the welts. “I meant what I said. We can’t sleep like that. It would be entirely too easy for me to hurt you, and the thought alone makes me ill. Do you understand?”

She raised a hand to his heart as she nodded her compliance, and he slowly pulled himself from her body before lying down and wrapping her in a hug. “If you want me to be more aggressive,” he added, playing with her hair, “I’m more than happy to oblige, but it’s not a good idea for me to lose my head and forget I’m making love to an angel.”

She cuddled close and pressed her lips to his heart. “Then we’ll go back to sleeping like this.”

The family gathering was minutes away by the time Layla and Quin emerged from the shower, and she stared at the curtains while scarfing down a piece of toast and rushing through a cup of coffee. Their entire family was on the other side of the velvet, waiting for news that would change their lives.

“Are you worried?” Quin asked, refilling her coffee.

“Yes,” she confessed, finding his stare. “I know they'll be happy for us, but they've already had their lives flipped upside down because of me. Now I’m piling more on their plates.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and looked at the window. “They won't mind.”

She sighed and took one more sip of coffee. Then she sent her mug to the table and headed for the closet. “I better get dressed. Will you be able to summon clothes from your parents’?”

“Yep,” he answered, doing just that.

She glanced over her shoulder, happy to see he’d merely donned shorts and no shirt. Then she entered the closet and shuffled through the multitude of dresses. When she emerged, she wore a black maxi dress boasting several layers of chiffon and a neckline deep enough to display the chrome tourmaline necklace he’d given her.

She walked to the dresser to get the jewelry, and his gaze followed her across the room. “Black looks good on you.”

“You say that about everything I wear.”

He approached and took her necklace, motioning for her to turn around. “I mean it.”

“I know,” she whispered, shivering as his fingers brushed the back of her neck.

After securing the necklace around her throat and the bracelet around her wrist, he turned her into his arms and gave her a deep kiss. “Are you ready?”

“I guess.”

“We need to conceal the proof,” he noted, gathering her skirt in his fists. Then he grasped her butt and picked her up, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Let's wait until we get to the front door,” she suggested. “I don't want to hide our lights longer than necessary.”

“Good idea,” he agreed, carrying her down the hallway.

She laid her head on his shoulder, but when they entered the living room, she blinked and straightened. “Quin!”