"Why must I be careful, your grace?"
His head righted and he brought his mouth to her ear. "You're going to make me come."
Cormia felt something warm pool between her thighs. "Was that what you did when we were in your bed? That first day?"
"Yes..." He drew the word out, the s drifting.
With a curious, single-minded drive, she found that she wanted him to do that again. Needed him to.
She angled her chin so that she was right at his ear. "Do it for me. Do it now."
The Primale growled deep in his chest, the sound vibrating up between their bodies. Funny, if she'd heard the sound from anyone else she would have been terrified. Coming from him, in this situation, she was thrilled: His leashed power was in the palm of her hand. Literally. And she had the control.
For once in her forsaken life, she was in control.
As he pushed his hips into her palm, he said, "I don't think we should - "
She cranked her hand down on him hard, and he moaned in pleasure. "Don't you take this from me," she demanded. "Don't you dare take this from me."
Following an impulse that came from the Virgin Scribe only knew where, she bit down on his earlobe. The response was immediate. He barked out a curse and leaped up, pinning her to the chair, all but mounting her with lust.
Not about to shrink back, she held her hand right to his sex and worked at him, playing counterbalance to the thrusting of his lower body. He seemed to relish the friction, so she kept at it even as he took her chin and forced her head toward his.
"Let me see your eyes," he bit out. "I want to be looking in your eyes when I - "
He released a wild groan as their stares met, and his body went tense all over. His hips jerked once... twice... three times, each spasm punctuated by a moan.
As his body expressed its pleasure, the Primale's rapt face and straining arms were the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. When he finally settled, he swallowed hard and didn't move away from her. Through the fine wool twill of his slacks, she felt a wetness on her hand.
"I like it when you do that," she said.
He let out a brief laugh. "I like it when you do that to me."
She was about to ask him if he wanted to try it again, when his hand brushed her hair back from her cheek. "Cormia?"
"Yes..." Funny, she drew out the word just as he had.
"Would you let me touch you a little?" He looked down at her body. "I can't promise you anything. I'm not... well, I can't promise you the same thing you gave me. But I would love to touch you. Just a little."
Desperation stole the air out of her lungs and replaced it with fire. "Yes..."
The Primale closed his eyes and seemed to gather himself. Then he bent down and pressed his lips to the side of her throat. "I do think you're beautiful, never doubt that. So beautiful..."
As his hands drifted to the front of her robe, the tips of her br**sts grew so tight, she twisted under him.
"I can stop," he said, hesitating. "Right now - "
"No." She grabbed onto his shoulders, holding him in place. She didn't know what was going to happen next, but she needed it, whatever it was.
His lips moved up higher on her neck, then lingered on her jaw. Just as he pressed his mouth to hers, a featherlight brush ran over the robe... to one of her br**sts.
As she surged up, her nipple pushed into his hand and they both groaned.
"Oh, Jesus..." The Primale eased back a little and carefully, reverently pulled the lapel of her robe away from her breast. "Cormia..." His deep, approving tone was like a caress, nearly tangible and all over her body.
"Can I kiss you here?" he groaned, his touch circling her nipple. "Please."
"Sweet Virgin, yes..."
His head went down and his mouth covered her, warm and moist, pulling gently, suckling.
Cormia threw her head back and thrust her hands deep into his hair, her legs parting for no reason and every reason. She wanted him at her sex, in any way he would come at her -
"Sire?"
Fritz's respectful intrusion from the far end of the theater snapped them both to attention. The Primale quickly straightened and covered her up, even though the chair prevented the butler from seeing anything.
"What the hell is it?" the Primale said.
"Forgive me, but the Chosen Amalya is here with the Chosen Selena to see you."
An ice wave went through Cormia, freezing out all the heat and the urgency in her blood. Her sister. Here to see him. How perfect.
The Primale got to his feet, uttering a horrid word Cormia couldn't help but echo in her own head, and he excused Fritz with a quick movement of his hand. "I'll be there in five minutes."
"Yes, sire."
After the doggen left, the Primale shook his head. "I'm sorry - "
"Go do what you need to do." As he hesitated, she said, "Go. I'd like to be alone."
"We can talk later."
No, not really, she thought. Talk wasn't going to solve any of this.
"Just go," she said, tuning out whatever else he spoke.
When she was alone once more, she stared at the frozen picture on the screen until all of a sudden it was replaced by a black wash, and a little grouping of English letters reading Sony flashed here and there.
She felt wretched, inside and out. Apart from the ache in her chest, her body had hunger pangs as if from a meal denied or a vein left untapped.
Except it wasn't food that she needed.
What she needed had just walked out the door.
Into the arms of her sister.
Chapter Twenty-five
Far upstate in the adirondacks, on the verge of dawn's arrival over Saddleback Mountain, the male who had taken the deer down the night before the male who had taken the deer down the night before was tracking another. Slow and uncoordinated, he knew the hunter role he was playing was a joke. The strength he got from the animal blood just wasn't enough anymore. Tonight as he'd left his cave, he was so weak he wasn't sure whether he could dematerialize at all.
Which meant he probably wasn't going to be able to get close enough to his prey. Which meant he wasn't going to feed. Which meant... the time had finally come.
It was so odd. He'd wondered, as he imagined everyone did from time to time, how exactly he was going to die. What would the circumstances be? Would it hurt? How long would it take? He'd assumed, given what his line of work had been, that it would have been fighting.
Instead, it was going to be here in this quiet forest by the hand of dawn's burning glory.
Surprise.
Up ahead, the buck lifted its heavy rack and prepared to bound away. Gathering what little energy he had, the male willed himself to cross the distance between their two bodies... and nothing happened. His corporeal form flickered in space, blinking on and off as if his light switch were being triggered, but he didn't change positions, and the deer shot off, white tail flicking as it crashed through the underbrush.
The male let himself fall back on his ass. As he looked at the sky, his regrets were many and deep, and most involved the dead. Not all, though. Not all.
Although he was desperate for the reunion he expected to find in the Fade, though he hungered for the embrace of the ones he'd lost so recently, he knew he was leaving a part of himself behind here on earth.
It couldn't be helped. The leaving behind, that was.
His only solace was that his son had been left in very good hands. The best. His brothers would look after his son, as was the proper way of things in families.
He should have said good-bye, though.
He should have done a lot of things.
But the shoulds were over now.
Ever mindful of the suicide legend, the male made a couple of attempts to stand, and when they failed, he even tried to drag his deadweight body in the direction of his cave. He got nowhere, and it was with a slice of joy through his dark heart that he finally allowed himself to collapse onto the pine needles and leaves.
The male lay there facedown, the cool, dewy forest bed filling his nose with smells that were clean even though they came from the dirt.
The first rays of the sun come from behind him, and then he felt the blast of the heat. The end had arrived, and he welcomed it with open arms and with eyes that were closed in relief.
His last sensation before he died was his liberation from the ground, his broken body being drawn up into the brilliant light, drawn unto the reunion it had taken eight horrible months for him to find.
Chapter Twenty-six