Seal of Surrender (17 page)

They believed she hosted some ancient relic — a genetic equivalent of war incarnate. Never mind she'd spent her whole adult life in the struggle to prevent conflict and its accompanying horrors. She'd worked too damn hard to have a group of crazy zealots end her work now.

Seemingly fearless, Xander ventured into the minefield of her persistent disbelief first. He slid into the sofa seat beside her, his measured movements holding the stealthy caution of a bomb expert. “Irena, what questions do you have for us?”

She stood and fled to the relative safety of the windows, taking a tentative sip of her drink. Her nose wrinkled as the liquor burned down her throat and cleared her sinuses. “This is crazy.”

“I realize how this must sound.” Xander folded his hands and waited patiently. “We prefer to release necessary information in palatable chunks, to avoid this sort of fallout. Thankfully, most missions don't require full disclosure.”

Irena gazed out the window at the small wedges of blue sky visible through the clouds. “But this mission does?”

No answer.

She turned to find the Scion commander now slumped against the sofa cushions with his arms crossed, an implied question in his quicksilver stare. Fine. She'd play along — for now. “Full disclosure. What exactly is your objective here?”

“I gave her a brief explanation.” Chago refilled his glass then settled in a chair across from Xander. His gaze remained steadfast on his drink, his voice quiet. “As a Seal host, Irena deserves the truth.”

“Truth?” Sudden white-hot fury boiled through her veins in an unstoppable tirade. “Fuck you, Chago. You've done nothing but lie to me.”

His cool stare coated her with a thick sheet of bone-chilling frost. “I did what was necessary, Irena. I never lied.”

“Right. As your buddy so eloquently put it, you only failed to disclose pertinent information. Nothing but horseshit semantics.”

Irena gulped the rest of her liquor. The aged Scotch seared her throat like battery acid. She sputtered, choking and hacking as her eyes watered. Luther rushed to her aid only to halt as she glared daggers in his direction. “Touch me and I swear you'll walk funny for the remainder of your unnatural born life.”

Xander took a deep breath. “Look. I'm not sure how much you think you understand, but allow me to explain. The three of us are members of the Scion. We were chosen by Divinity to serve as she commands. We mean you no harm.”

The burn in her throat eased to a tolerable scald. Irena brushed tears from her cheeks and slumped against the wall. “He told me he's military intelligence, a warfare expert.”

“All true. Chago's our resident combat expert. The intelligence part is debatable.”

Chago took a long swallow of liquor and stared at the floor. “I tried to explain the Seal to her.”

The mark at the small of her back flared, igniting a strong pulse of energy. She tapped her foot against the baseboard, trying to release some excess tension as the oxygen in the room seemed to evaporate.

“Don't you find it odd a person who works in the pursuit of peace, rebuilding people's lives, would host some genetic monument to the carnage of war?” She paced the floor. “What proof can you give me that I am what you say I am?”

Xander moved to perch on the arm of the couch, his expression solemn. “What about your birthmark, Irena?”

“Lots of people have birthmarks.” The blasted mark flared hotter and she inched farther away. Dammit. “Doesn't mean anything.”

“This one does.” Xander kept his gaze steady on hers as he spread a crumbling scroll on the coffee table. “Not many birthmarks are in the shape of a sword. Only yours.”

Curiosity won out. Irena moved to stand beside him, her attention on the faded parchment. A passage followed a perfectly sketched rendition of her birthmark. Impossible. Breath held, she dug deep into her high-school Latin to translate the ancient verse:

“And when he had opened the second Seal, the beast uttered: “Come and see.” There emerged another horse, red. Power was granted the rider to take peace from the earth, forcing them to kill and unto them was given a great sword.”

Revelation. Irena slumped against the cushions, her attention fixed on the far wall. An ancient biblical prophecy. She raised a tremulous hand to her mouth and wiped away the sheen of sweat on her upper lip. The room seemed overheated, too small for the bodies inside. She needed air, needed space, needed to get the hell away before she ran screaming like a lunatic.

“I want some time.” She got up and walked to stand beside the bed. “Alone.”

The Scion left her room without a word, taking Innocent with them.

Only Chago remained, studying her with insidious calm. The appalling need for his comfort was the last thing she expected. She yearned for a connection, a strong support, a safe harbor. He stood and moved beside her to cup her face with gentle hands, his gaze full of concern and desire.

She averted her eyes. A potent combination of passion and protectiveness stormed her heart. Craving, wild and deep, smashed her defenses. Irena looked up at him again and stroked his cheek, enjoying the shadow of stubble now covering his chiseled jaw. She traced her fingertips down the open neck of his shirt to his chest, tangling in the soft smatter of dark curls there. “Kiss me, Chago.”

“Si
.
” His lips descended toward hers, parted and wet. Their eyes locked. His pupils dilated with a dark, burning heat. From the first soft brush of his mouth against hers, she was hooked. At their second sweep, she begged for more. The promise of his kiss hovered only a hair's breadth away, just out of reach. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones as his husky words drove her over the edge. “Ah, mi vida, I'm going to savor every drop of you until you scream for release.”

Beyond reason with lust, Irena grabbed his head and pulled him down with abandon, her own lips parted and ready. His tongue swept inside, infusing her with his sweet, spicy taste, heady and potent as the finest wine. He nibbled along her cheekbone to nuzzle the shell of her ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive lobe before soothing the tiny nip with a swipe of his tongue. Low, guttural moans rumbled from his throat and Irena's excitement skyrocketed.

Chago eased her down to the mattress and loomed above her, his thigh slipping between hers to rest atop her overheated core. His hips rocked against hers, creating a delightful friction. He was so hard, so hot, so ready. Irena nearly climaxed. She gripped him closer, tearing at his clothes and her own, wanting the pleasure of skin on skin.

Her nails pressed deep into his lower back in a show of fierce possession. His answering growl reeked of pure animal satisfaction and he rewarded her efforts with another heated kiss, the stiff length of his manhood grinding against the ridge of her hip. Irena reveled in her newfound ecstasy. Chago had fast become her favorite scent, her favorite flavor, her favorite everything.

He dusted a trail of kisses along the length of her throat to the pulse hammering at its base, releasing the buttons of her blouse with the slow, hypnotic rhythm of one well trained in the art of seduction.

Lost in a haze of wanton need and with less finesse, Irena grasped his shirt and yanked hard. The placket wrenched free with a satisfying rip. She didn't give a damn about his ruined attire. She wanted the man, the hot flesh beneath his sedate, exterior barriers.

Irena dove under the shredded cotton, her fingertips sliding through the fine mat of dark hair on his chest before skimming lower to the rippled muscles of his abdomen. Her lips and tongue located a flat nipple. She suckled his salty flesh, giving the sensitive nub a nip followed by a cool breath. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make it count. Chago's answering shudder spoke volumes.

Her blouse parted, exposing Irena to his heated perusal. A restless ache scorched through her veins. She longed to make this first time last an eternity, but the increased pressure in her loins demanded release. He seemed to sense her desperation and to delight in remaining cool and detached. She wanted to make him crack. Wanted him to desire her with the same unquenchable ferocity. She wanted his love.

With her new goal in sight, she slipped her fingers to the waistband of his jeans and dipped inside to graze the velvet head of his cock.

Chago pinned her with a heated look. “Santo Cristo
,
woman! If you expect me to last, do not torture me.”

Irena removed her hand and smiled, content. Her warrior wasn't as cool as he pretended. She'd refrain from touching him, for now. She wanted him to last — until the end and beyond.

• • •

Chago dropped his forehead to the soft valley between Irena's breasts and stopped to worship one pert mound as he released the front clasp of her bra. He reigned in his crazed libido and pushed the lace aside. Her flesh heaved in rosy-tipped perfection. Slowly, with infinite reverence, he took one taut tip into his mouth, sucking hard then grazing gently with his teeth.

Irena arched beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair, seemingly mindless with sensation. Her sweet, floral scent flowed around him like the sweet strains of a mandolin, mixed with a richer note of arousal. He never wanted these moments to end. Her earlier ministrations had nearly caused him to spill his seed. After long years alone, she had awakened emotions he'd thought long dead. Her generous passion bent his steadfast control like a sapling in a tornado.

He kissed his way to her stomach and stopped to suckle her navel before moving lower. The button on her shorts slipped free and his tongue traced over the soft skin above her waistband. She trembled and his wicked chuckle of masculine pride echoed through the room. Chago tugged her zipper down with his teeth. The heady fragrance of her sex tickled his nostrils His shaft twitched in anticipation, but he refused to rush. This time was all for Irena.

She moaned, a throaty sound ripe with need. He mustered every ounce of his considerable control to avoid ripping the scrap of scarlet lace aside and taking what she so willingly offered. Even a battle-hardened Scion had his limits.

His fingers hooked beneath the waistband of her shorts and panties, removing both in one fell swoop. He kissed his way back up the inside of each leg, with a brief stop to adore the sensitive spot behind each knee before proceeding to her core. With gentle hands on her inner thighs, he moved them apart and exposed her to his hungry gaze.

Chago hesitated, leaning forward to savor the essence of the woman he loved. Her dewy pink folds glistened, as if eager for his touch. He drew a solitary fingertip up her center and collected the gathered moisture. Eyes trained on hers, he brought the digit to his lips and sucked. Madre Dio, she was perfection. A single taste of her would never quench his thirst. Greedy for more, he parted her with gentle fingers and dipped his tongue inside, reveling in her response.

Irena bucked beneath him, her eyes clamped shut. She clutched the bedding, her hands tangled in the sheets. He lapped, suckled, gave an occasional nip — all to heighten her pleasure. He slipped two fingers between her slick walls and returned to suckle her most sensitive spot. Her gaze remained hidden, but he wanted more. He wanted to see her climax, wanted to watch as she reached her fulfillment.

“Look at me, Irena.” His tone demanded her attention. Irena's eyes fluttered open and locked with his down the length of their bodies. Sweet Jesus, she was beautiful.

Her moans grew louder, more desperate as she teetered on the precipice. His tongue circled on the nub of her passion, once, twice, as his fingers teased within her heated core. She cried out as her pleasure crested. He continued his gentle assault and brought her to the brink again and again until she slumped to the mattress and begged him to join her.

He lavished kisses over her now quivering thighs and abdomen all the way up to her breasts. Chago quickly stripped off her blouse and bra then moved off the bed to remove the remnants of his clothing. As he pulled away, she moaned in protest, her pleasure-glazed eyes feverish. Fuck. Irena's soft mewls made him harder than a randy stallion.

He stretched on a condom before rejoining her, prowling up over her body like a restless jungle cat. Settling over her, Chago rested his weight on his forearms and studied her beautiful face. She couldn't seem to get enough of his body, her hands skimming over his flesh with desperation. His heart swelled with pure male satisfaction, pleased his woman seemed to find pleasure in his form. The feeling was mutual.

Beneath the bedside lamp's glow, Chago marveled at the way Irena's pale skin shown beside his darker complexion. Her fingers reveled in the mat of hair on his chest and swirled around his sensitive nipples. He shivered beneath her touch. She smiled as he traced a thumb over her lips. “Are you happy, mi amor?”

She didn't answer, only grinned wider. He grinned too. He'd never enjoyed himself this much in bed play. He'd had his share of sexual adventures, but no pleasure as pure as being with Irena. Their bodies seemed perfectly attuned and her response to his touch was nothing short of exquisite.

He kissed her once more, his tongue dueling with hers, stoking the passion higher.

Irena grew restless beneath him and Chago returned one hand to her breasts, toying with the sensitive peaks while his other slipped lower to her slick folds.

His swollen cock pulsed against her belly, throbbing in time with his heart. She grasped his rigid length and, for a moment, he allowed her caress, craving her touch too much to resist. He struggled for the last shreds of his control and fought against the torrent of need fizzing in his blood.

With urgent, gentle force, he drew her away from his shaft and secured both hands above her head with a singled-handed grip. Nestled between her thighs, Chago poised his throbbing manhood at her wet entrance. “I'm sorry, carina
,
but I can't wait any longer. I must have you now.”