Darkness Possessed (Order of the Blade) Page 18
He felt her hands on the button of his jeans and lifted his hips just enough for her to fit her hands between their bodies. His body quivered in anticipation as she unbuttoned his fly and unzipped the zipper. Before he could even respond, her hands were on his butt, sliding beneath his boxer briefs. His body began to shake with need and with longing at the sensation of her hands on him. It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this. All the discipline he’d been trying to sustain deserted him.
No longer could he hesitate or pretend to be the good guy. He dragged her shirt over her shoulders, taking her bra with it. Her body was lean, well–muscled perfection. At the same time, coating the hardness of her body was a layer of soft flesh, of a woman who had let her body soften and round into that which made her who she was. She tugged down his jeans, taking his boxer briefs with them in one smooth move. There was no doubt that she wanted all of him, just as he wanted all of her. With a low groan he rolled off her just long enough to kick off his boots and yank his jeans over his feet.
The light from the torches flickered over her body, casting her in warm oranges and reds, flickering with the shadows. Her gaze was riveted to his as she unfastened her own pants and slid them over her hips. He grabbed her boots and unlaced each one with violent speed, ripping them off and setting them to the side, making sure they were within reach in case she needed them in a hurry. By the time he’d turned back, she was naked, gloriously naked.
She was propped up on her elbow, her breasts soft mounds. Her nipples were brown and taut, welcoming him. Along her arms from wrist to shoulder were a myriad of tattoos, intricately woven designs that looked vaguely familiar to him. But his mind couldn’t be bothered to process the markings on her skin. He was consumed by the burning desire in her eyes, by the need and hunger simmering so close to the surface.
With a low growl of anticipation he crawled across the ground toward her. Her eyes widened and her tongue flicked across her lower lip as she watched him approach. She didn’t pull back, and he caught the scent of her desire in the air. He moved until he was over her. Bracing himself on his arms and legs, he lowered himself until their bodies were a breath apart, but not touching anywhere. His erection was pulsing with heat and desire, his quads burning with the need to launch himself into her.
But he didn’t.
The memory of her fear and terror was still so vivid that there was no way that he could take her unless he knew that she was with him completely. For a long moment neither of them moved, and the air between them seemed to sizzle and steam with the heat from their bodies. She didn’t reach for him. She simply remained still, leaning back on her elbows, staring at him. Sweat trickled down his temple as he waited for her to make that first move.
They were naked. The desire and lust were so thick in the air he could practically see it and feel it coating his flesh. If she kissed him, if he touched her, there was no question about what would happen, which meant he would not cross that border first. She had to make that choice.
Then she held up her arms to him, inviting him into her embrace. It wasn’t a raw, mindless move of lust. It was a gesture of tenderness and trust, inviting him not just into her space, but into her inner circle.
He lowered himself onto her. Her arms encircled him, and she pulled him close as he kissed her. The kiss was different this time. It wasn’t chaste, but it wasn’t untamed fire. Somehow the mere sight of her holding out her arms to him in an embrace had changed things. This time the kiss, although still laced with lust and desire, was also lit by a tenderness he hadn’t felt in so long.
He was so shocked by his feelings that he actually stopped the kiss. He went still. The tension radiating through his body was no longer about sexual anticipation. It ran deeper than that, penetrating scars that had branded his soul long ago and settled into hard, unforgiving barriers of protection. Memories he had long since buried, ones he had managed to forget about, came surging to the forefront of his mind.
Shit. Sex was one thing. Tenderness? Trust? No fucking way. He couldn’t do that again, not to her, not to himself.
“No.” Swearing, he tensed and started to roll off her…then he made the mistake of looking at her face. She was watching him with such softness on her face that something inside him seemed to shatter. What the hell? No one looked at a Calydon with such tenderness. It made him uncomfortable. It seemed to penetrate through walls he’d spent centuries erecting. “What?” he couldn’t keep the gruffness out of his voice. Hell, he couldn’t even fucking concentrate. He was being assaulted by memories, tempted by the feel of her body beneath his, and undone by the vulnerability and emotions on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, reaching up to brush her finger over his forehead. “I’m sorry for whatever it is that haunts you.”
He closed his eyes, unable to resist the temptation of her touch. Shit, it felt good. Too damn good. He could not go there again. “I can’t do this,” he gritted out. He wrenched himself off her and vaulted to his feet, grabbing his jeans as he did so. He yanked them on, almost catching his damn erection in the zipper he was so frantic to get dressed.
Running his hand through his hair, once he had his pants on, he turned to face her, knowing that he owed her an apology. This woman with demons on her tail had trusted him, and he’d pulled this shit on her. But when he turned to face her, he was shocked to see her staring at him with a look of absolute disbelief on her face, but she didn’t appear to be hurt. Damned if it didn’t look like she was impressed with him.
“You got up,” she said, still lying there propped up on her elbows, naked as hell.
“Yeah.” He ran his hand through his hair as he grabbed his shirt. Shit. He didn’t even know what to say. He was still caught up in memories he didn’t want to revisit.
“Why?”
Swearing, he looked around, trying to find an excuse not to answer her, then he took a second look when he realized what was around them. Woven at least thirty feet high on all sides of them, just beyond the circle of torches, was a wall of vegetation. Flowers danced above their torches, and the plants seemed to undulate gently. Stunned by the sheer magnitude of what she’d created, he walked over to it and placed his hand on the wall. The plants were cool and damp beneath his palm, and he could feel their energy vibrating gently against his flesh. “It’s a living wall.” He looked up, stunned by the sheer artistry of the tapestry she’d woven. It was pure natural art, and he could even see the outlines of assorted forest animals, as if the plants had mimicked the creatures of the jungle beyond.
He pushed lightly at the wall, and it parted for him, allowing his hand to go through. But when he pulled it back, it quickly closed back up, sealing off the spot that had opened. “Unbelievable.”
“It only lets you through because you’re on my side,” she said. “It’s impenetrable from the outside.”
He glanced back over at her, and saw that she was dressed now, her neck craned as she looked up at the top of the wall. “I haven’t created anything like this in a very long time,” she said softly as she walked over next to him.
She laid her hand on the wall beside him, and the plants immediately wove themselves around her hand, like a custom glove holding her in place. She smiled and wiggled her fingers. The plants loosened their grip, and then a pale white flower emerged from the wall, right between her thumb and forefinger. Her face softened into an incredible smile of wonder, and she leaned forward, inhaling the scent of the blossom. “Thank you,” she whispered, so quietly that he knew she was speaking to the plants.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The look of wonderment and rapture on her face gave her a radiance that was riveting. She looked almost innocent, a part of nature so pure that he was in awe. Her hair was still in a bun, but strands of the raven-black tendrils had fallen free, draping over her shoulder.
She turned to him and held out her hand. “I want to show you something.”
He knew that he had to walk away. He knew he co
uldn’t go to these kinds of places with her, but in that moment, he didn’t care. She was different from any woman he’d ever known, from anyone he’d ever met, and he wanted to be a part of it, as if she could chase away all the rot and filth he carried in his own soul.
Wordlessly, he placed his hand in hers. The electricity that jumped between them made his muscles tighten, and she sucked in a small breath. Then she smiled at him and pressed his hand to the wall, just as he’d done by himself. This time, however, she kept her hand over his, tangling their fingers together.
The plants wove over their joined fingers, like a seductive caress that sent chills racing down his spine. Energy seemed to spark through his flesh all the way to the bones of his hand. It was a vibrating, visceral power that was so strong it actually hurt. But at the same time he could feel it running down his arm like a hot, desert wind whipping through all the blockages in his body. “What is it?”
“It’s the earth,” she said quietly. “Can you feel it?”
He nodded.
Her fingers tightened around his, and he looked over at her. “You gave that back to me,” she said. “I haven’t felt that connection with the earth and the plants in a very long time. I forgot what it felt like.” She smiled, a tender smile that was so full of peace and serenity that she was like a different person from the one who had recoiled from him in such terror.
He turned toward her, suddenly wanting to know. Yes, granted, he needed to grill her on the fire god and the Calydons hunting them, but the wall gave them time. Right now, he needed to know about the woman who had dropped into his life. “Tell me,” he said. “Who hurt you so badly that it stripped away from you the very essence of who you are? Was it Luther?”
Shadows drifted into her eyes, and the leaves that had been tangled around their hands retreated back into the wall. She met his gaze, and there was such trauma in her eyes that he wanted to sweep her into his arms and fight the world for her. “I don’t think you want to know,” she said quietly.
She turned away then, and walked back across the clearing to the fire. She sat down and picked up the fish that he’d left in the flames. “Dinner’s ready. I hope you like it a little crispy.”
“Dinner?” He turned to stare at her. Dinner.
Fuck dinner. He didn’t want to eat. All he wanted was to find out what haunted Rhiannon so badly that it had stolen the magnificence of her talent from her. All he wanted was to hear her secrets and find a way to take away her pain.
He took one last look at the wall to double check its security. Satisfied, he then turned his attention to his guide. He had an entire night behind the barricade with just her, and he knew exactly what he was going to do with her.
Chapter 16
Rhiannon’s skin prickled as Zach approached the fire. She didn’t look up from the fish as he stopped right beside her, his bare feet only inches from her. Why was he so close? Didn’t he realize he could sit on the other side of the fire?
Then he eased himself down next to her, and she answered her own question. Of course he knew. The man was far from an idiot. He was doing it intentionally. Why? Maybe he had changed his mind about making love?
The moment she thought it, intense pangs of desire pulsed through her, but this time, she was able to keep a rational thought about it. She didn’t make love with men. It was a foolish, dangerous thing to do, even if it was Zach. She was grateful that he’d had the sense to stop before they had taken it too far.
Wordlessly, she scooped up some fish onto a metal dish from her backpack, and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Sure.” She took some fish for herself, and then they sat there in silence, eating. Rhiannon stared into the fire, watching the flames dance as she ate, viscerally aware of every move that Zach made.
He was so close to her she could feel the heat from his body. She counted his breaths. She watched his biceps flex when he reached to put more wood into the fire. She was riveted by his woodsy, earthy scent that seemed to wrap around her. She noticed the way his jeans encased his muscular thighs as he stretched his legs out. She remembered what he tasted like. She couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt to have his naked body on hers, all that hot flesh touching hers. The memory was so vivid, including the fact that she hadn’t been afraid, and the fact that he had stopped. She knew how badly he’d wanted her, and yet he’d stopped. The strength of his will was astonishing. Unreal. She would have bet that there wasn’t a male alive who would have the discipline and emotional depth to halt on the edge of sex. It was incredible, and it made her want him even more, because it made her feel safe.
He was all male, and she was aware of every single part of him. He didn’t seem to be unsettled by the rising silence between them, but it seemed to be wrapping around her, sending chills through her body, increasing in intensity with every passing moment.
Finally, she whirled around to face him. “What? What is it? What do you want?”
He paused, a forkful of fish halfway to his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m just eating.”
“You’re not just eating! You’re sitting too close to me, you’re breathing too steadily, and you’re just oozing all this temptation right at me, and then not saying anything! What do you want from me? Just stop this!”
He stared at her, and then his massive shoulders gave a slow, lazy shrug. “Sweetheart, I’m just eating—”
“No, you’re not! I’m not an idiot, you know. Sometimes the greatest weapon is the slow, stealthy approach, and you’re doing that! It’s not going to work because I noticed it, so just tell me what you want!”
A slow grin spread across his face, and he shifted to face her. “Well, now, I have to disagree on that one.”
“On what one?”
“That it didn’t work.” He grinned wider. “I wanted you to start talking to me and stop shutting me out. Seems to me it worked.”
She stared at him. “You’re such a jerk.”
He shrugged again. “If that’s the worst you think of me, then I’m having a good day. I’ve been called a lot worse.” Pain suddenly flashed across his face, pain so stark that she sucked in her breath, but it was gone a split second later.
Suddenly, her anger fled, and exhaustion set in, because she knew that pain. Maybe Zach wasn’t so different from her. Maybe he would understand. With a heavy sigh, she set down her plate and turned to face him. “What do you want to know?”
He finished off his fish with one bite, tossed the plate aside, and then turned to face her. His dark eyes were intense, and his humor was gone. “I want to know a lot of things.”
She swallowed. “Like what?”
“I want to know about the fire god. I want to know about the flames I saw in the forest. I want to know every damn thing there is to know about our enemy, and I want to know it before that damn wall comes down around us.”
Relief rushed through her at his answer. He just wanted to know about the enemy? That was easy. She picked up her plate again to resume eating, grateful that he wasn’t going to pry deeper. But even as she relaxed, she couldn’t suppress the sudden surge of disappointment that he hadn’t wanted to know more, to know why she was so scared, to know her. Which was stupid, of course. She didn’t need him or anyone else to hold her hand, or to know the demons that haunted her. It wasn’t as if he could take them away—
“I also want to know who hurt you. I want to know why you’re so damned scared that you couldn’t even run up your veggie wall.” He leaned forward, and she caught her breath. “I want to know it because you’re my partner in this little venture, but I also want to know it because you’re a woman who has gotten under my skin so badly that I can’t even think until I get it sorted out.”
Heat washed over her, a full-on wave of emotional and physical response to him that made her gut clench. “Stop.”
He cocked his brow. “Stop what?”
“That.” She waved her han
d at his pushy stance. “Being so close to me. Being in my space.”
“Why?” He was relentless in his questions, and she started feeling the pressure from his closeness. No longer did he feel like a comfortable cocoon of safety. He felt like a threat.
“Why?” She challenged him by meeting his gaze, refusing to allow herself to be intimidated. “I have a question for you. Why did you stop when we were about to make love?”
Guilt flashed over his face. “Why? Were you offended?”
“No. It was a relief. I just… I’ve just never been in a position where a man has gotten that close and stopped. I don’t understand.”
He turned toward her then, giving her his full attention. “It’s the fire god, isn’t it? He’s the one. What did he do to you? Were you his slave? Were you his captive?”
His questions hammered at her, forcing her into memories she didn’t want to face. She shook her head vigorously and held up her hand, palm out, denying him access. “Just stop —”
“No. We both need you to be able to function in order for us to still be alive by the end of the day tomorrow. What’s going on with you? What are you so afraid of? What did the fire god do to you? What hold does he have over you?” He grasped her upper arms gently, turning her so she was facing him. “I already told you that I failed to keep my sister and her kids alive. That’s how I got you to trust me. It’s your turn. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me everything.”
Anger rushed through her. Anger that José could still make her so scared that she couldn’t connect with her plants unless Zach was almost making love to her, and anger at Zach for shoving his face in her business. “Fine! You want to know what’s going on? I’ll tell you. I was born in this jungle, for the sole purpose of protecting the jungle from José and his crew. I’m part of an ancient tribe assigned with the task of keeping this jungle safe. José is just the latest enemy in a centuries-long battle to preserve our home.”