Rejar brushed his mouth against her creamy cheek. “At least call me Nickolai, souk-souk.”
“Mmm…” Responding to his caress, Lilac nuzzled against his face, breathing in the accustomed cinnamon-bayberry scent. In her sleepy entranced state, he was as warm and snuggily as her favorite old quilt.
“You feel so nice, Nickolai…” She cuddled against him, slumberously wrapping her arms about his neck.
It was a well-known fact that Familiars were excellent sleep-mates—being affectionate, cozy companions.
But he did not want her cozy just yet.
He removed her arms from around his neck. “Not now, Lilac.”
Gathering both her wrists in one hand, he rolled partly over her. “I must conduct a test. It is a very serious thing, so you must be willing to help me.” His heated sights fastened on her full lips. “Will you?” he whispered.
Lilac stared up at him, captivated by his molten look. “Yes,” she breathed, secure in the knowledge this was only a dream. “I believe I shall.”
Rejar released the breath he held.
Lilac wondered at his tenseness. Then, as if he could not help himself, the Prince dropped his head and skimmed her mouth with his own. His loving action caused his hair to slide forward; the long strands teased at her breasts. Lilac decided she liked the feel of it sliding against her; she enthusiastically waited to see what would follow.
She did not have to wait long.
With his free hand, Rejar began to undo the front ties of her nightrail, his dexterous fingers making fast work of the task. When he was done, Lilac was uncovered to her waist.
Rejar wholly examined the milky white skin, the beautiful full breasts with their small pink tips, the graceful curve of her waist.
A tremor raced through him. It was a good sign.
Before he had the chance to think about what he was actually doing, he grabbed a fistful of the material gapping at her waist. With one powerful tug the material split down the center, revealing her fully to his gaze.
She was exquisite. Even more beautiful than he had imagined.
A second tremor raced through him.
His lips found the tender plane of her stomach first. There, he lingered in reverent acknowledgement, rubbing his face against the smooth, silky skin.
The gentle touch of the Prince’s mouth upon her flesh made Lilac flinch. It was a bit ticklish, she thought, bemused. However, when his Highness began a litany of tiny kisses and started to lick her with fluctuating sweeps of his wet tongue, she relaxed, sighing in delight. Nickolai was making her feel tingly right to her toes. For once she was not irritated with him. She had found something in her dreams that the Prince excelled at. In fact, he was outstanding.
Her enchanted response was exactly what Rejar had been hoping for. This was proving an excellent idea! Not only was he testing himself, he was also inflaming her. Moreover, as far as his own supposed problem was concerned, he need not have worried. That fear had been laid to rest almost immediately.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with him.
He grinned against her stomach, giving her a little love bite.
Nothing wrong at all.
Rejar continued with his enjoyable meanderings. He was confident now that she was so attuned to him subconsciously, her arousal would carry over into her waking state. And he definitely wanted her to consciously associate him with arousal. So, he teased her navel with a swirl of his tongue. Then, using just the moist tip, he prodded the small indentation delicately.
Lilac was enchanted with the provocative caress. When she lifted her hips slightly to give him better access, she felt the vibration of his low laugh against her skin.
It was working. Rejar nibbled the underside of her plump breast. All she had needed was a little time to adjust to him, he marveled. Lilac made an approving sound in her throat and impatiently rubbed the plane of her torso against his face.
Perhaps it was working too well.
He could only continue to inflame her so long as he could control the situation. It was important she understand this. Rejar stopped his love play to look up at her with narrowed eyes.
“You will not touch my hair, souk-souk,” he warned her sternly.
“If you say so, Nickolai.” She all but panted her response.
Satisfied she understood his direct decree, he nodded curtly to her before resuming.
He pressed his lips against the curve of her upper thigh, following a path to the inside; here he hesitated briefly, noting the small, kitten-shaped birthmark. His lips curved upward at the delightful surprise.
He could not help but cover it with his lips, taste it with his mouth, love it with his tongue.
His free hand glided seductively up her leg, over her rounded hip, and aside, to softly stroke the small of her back. The sensitive spot responded well to his expert touch; she tried to bring herself closer to him.
Consumed with the taste, touch, feel, and scent of her, Rejar, poised at a very enticing crossroads, took a chance and very slightly opened his special sensual senses to her. It was something he had avoided with her in the past for obvious reasons.
Ah, but she was so sweet!
She was like the rarest of treats, like spun crystal!
She was…untouched.
Rejar froze.
It could not be! Yet, it had to be—Familiar senses did not deceive. She had never been touched by the hand of another man! Never been kissed or stroked or petted or…
He shook his head to clear it. She was an adult woman—who had ever heard of such a thing? He remembered his facetious jest many weeks ago concerning women on this planet not engaging in sexual play, and he wondered if he had somehow jinxed himself.
What was he to do now? He released her hands from his hold.
Beads of perspiration dotted his upper lip. There was more.
Much more.
When he had opened his sensual senses to her for the first time, he had also discovered something else. Something totally unexpected.
She was his.
There was no denying it. What he had been blind to these many weeks became crystal clear. She was his mate.
How could he have not known? Familiars sense their mates, always. It was a hidden ability inherent in their kind. Still, he had never suspected…
It must have been his trip through the Tunnels. Somehow his mating senses were affected.
Or, did the Tunnels bring him to her? Totally ignorant in the mystic ways, he suddenly missed the advice of Yaniff, whose wise counsel he could definitely use. Odd, but he suddenly realized how much he had always relied on the old man in the past; he remembered clearly how the old wizard was always there for him.
Now, however, Yaniff was not here and he had a big problem to solve.
Untouched! It explained much of her behavior toward him. But, what was he to do with an untouched woman? Him, a Familiar! It was ludicrous.
Wait a moment.
There might be something special here, something he had initially overlooked in his horror of the situation. While it was true she was inexperienced, it was also true she had not yet developed a taste for likes or dislikes.
Hmm…This could be interesting.
He could teach her about the sensual journey; show her what pleased him and, in turn, pleased her. She would have no preconceived notions coloring her willingness to experiment with him. He could awaken her fully. To everything.
The concept stimulated him.
And when it sunk in that no man had ever been intimate with her, that he would be the only one to claim her, he became downright passionate over the idea.
While Rejar was having his amazing revelation, Lilac was wondering why the Nickolai of her dream had stopped dispensing pleasure. Still in the throes of the raging desire he had aroused in her, she sunk her hands into the luxuriant strands of his hair.
Rejar almost choked on his own breath. “Lilac…stop!”
Emboldened by the very nature of the dream
she was having, Lilac flatly refused. “No. This is my dream; I will do as I please—not the other way around.” Purposely, she massaged his scalp, stroking through his silky mane with a ruinous intent.
Rejar was caught completely off-guard by her rebelliously amorous behavior, so at odds with her past demeanor. On the one hand, he was proud that he had been able to move her so; on the other hand, he was rapidly loosing his control. He was already lying naked between her thighs.
She was entwining his Familiar senses, which were now completely vulnerable to her. Soon he was incapable of distinguishing their separate scents, breaths, textures. Her scent mingled with his, became their scent; her taste the only woman’s taste he could remember; her feel, a texture so unique, it belonged to him alone.
From henceforth he could conceive of no other.
He was hers.
But not this way. “You must stop.” He closed his eyes to draw strength of purpose. It was difficult; he was throbbing against her and could not believe the hint he was getting of the feel of her.
There was a danger of him turning feral.
He captured her hands again, holding them down by her sides. Unexpectedly, she wiggled beneath him, causing him to loose his balance. He fell on top of her. Lilac quickly turned her head and captured his earlobe with her small teeth.
Now, she was truly making him shiver. He moaned out loud. “Li-lac…”
Her maneuver appeared to be successful; Nickolai was trembling against her. She darted her tongue in his ear in a teasing, sliding motion.
Rejar gritted his teeth. This must end—now. “Stop it,” he bit out, clamping her wrists. “Stop this now, Lilac, or we will both be sorry.”
The tone of his voice frightened her. She went still beneath him.
Rejar drew in great gusts of air in an attempt to still his pulsating body. It was not working. There was only one thing left for him to do.
“Close your eyes, souk-souk.”
Lilac looked up into his face, so near to her own. “Why?” She, too, was gasping for breath.
“Do as I ask.” He groaned in agony, “I beg you.”
Lilac immediately shut her eyes. “For how long, Nickolai?”
“For a few of your minutes…” His voice was already trailing off.
There was a flash of light and the dream was no more.
Lilac found herself awake, in the middle of the bed. Her night rail was split in half and hanging from her in tatters. Scared by the strange, terrifyingly real dream, hurting from unfulfilled desires she did not understand, she burst into tears.
Soon the bed dipped and she felt whiskers nudge her face, consolingly.
“Oh, Rejar!” Wrapping her arms around the sweet cat, she cried herself out for the next half hour. His steady, gentle purring finally lulled her back to sleep.
The knowledge had been revealed to him.
Like a Guardian of Old, Rejar stood close by her side throughout the night. It was part mystical, part superstition. It was a rite of passage and it was obligation. It was duty and it was desire. It was always a sacred trust. Sometimes, it was destiny.
His father’s people called it Chi’in t’se Leau.
Chapter Eight
That very afternoon, Rejar stood before Agatha Whumples in the grand dame’s study. He had chosen his time well, carefully coming to call when he knew Lilac was not at home.
Earlier in the day he had sought Jackie out. He had questions he wanted answers to. Questions as to why Lilac would still be untouched at her age and what the proper procedure was in this society to make her his.
Jackie had been most informative before his language became most colorful. There had been a lot of suggestive winking and elbowing into his side from the odd man. It seemed some gestures transcended the language barrier. He chuckled to himself—one could say some male gestures were universal.
But he got the information he needed.
Rejar intended to “marry” Lilac Devere.
And not just by the customs here. He intended to take her as his real mate. In order to accomplish this, he must first follow the dictates within her own society—just for show, of course. The true ceremony, as far as he was concerned, would follow.
He had some trepidations.
It was highly unusual for a Familiar man to take a mate before his first incarnation. Never had a male Familiar mated outside his own kind. There were good reasons for this, but Rejar believed he could overcome the problems inherent in such a match. In any case, he did not have much choice; they belonged to each other.
He would simply have to teach her to adjust to his…To adjust.
Appetite, he reasoned, can be a learned behavior. Consequently, she would have an excellent tutor. The very model of patience. Albeit, a perfectionist. If the situation warranted, he could patiently instruct her for hour upon hour. Gian had always told him a male Familiar was not finished until he was good and finished.
He smiled wickedly.
Remembering Jackie’s bizarre instructions, he faced Lady Whumples. “Lady Agatha, as Lilac’s only living relative and guardian, I ask permission from you to marry your niece.”
Lady Whumples’s mouth dropped. Obviously, she hadn’t been expecting this so soon. It was too soon, in her opinion. Despite her mechanizations, Lilac was barely tolerating the man.
Seeing her hesitation, Rejar pressed his suit. “I realize this is sudden, but I assure you I am sincere. I am a man of means as well as…a certain title; you need not fear for her welfare. I intend take care of both of you, if you will let me.” This, Rejar spoke from his heart.
Once he mated with Lilac, he would be responsible for the care and protection of the two women; his family. In his universe, it was a responsibility no man, Aviaran or Familiar, took lightly.
“B-but what does Lilac say? I was under the impression she still couldn’t tolerate the very air you breathe.” Agatha peered at him through her lorgnette. “You will forgive me my bluntness, your Highness, but the chit is rather outspoken.”
Like her aunt. Rejar smiled wryly. “Be that as it may; it changes nothing. What say you to this arrangement?”
Impertinent! The man was impertinent. Agatha peered at him through her lorgnette again. And damned handsome…Of course, it would be Lilac’s decision—she wouldn’t take that away from the girl. If the twit refused this magnificent specimen before her it would be her business!
In her personal opinion, such would be the act of a Bedlamite.
She reluctantly dropped her looking glass. “Your Highness, I’m afraid the decision is up to Lilac.”
Rejar frowned. This was not what he wanted to hear. Jackie had told him that as Lilac’s guardian, ultimately it would be Lady Whumples’s decision, which suited him fine. He knew he could win over the aunt; it was Lilac who was going to prove more difficult. That is, until he could show her how loving a Familiar man could be.
Before he could respond, there was a brief commotion in the foyer, followed by the angry swish of skirts and the purposeful stride of pounding shoes. He guessed correctly that Lilac had returned early from her outing and the butler had informed her of his presence in their drawing room. She would be annoyed over his unannounced visit.
Lilac entered the room, all blazing eyes and clenched fists. Rejar briefly glanced at her, then purposely turned his attention to adjusting the cuff of his jacket. He knew his insolent action would so aggravate her that she would be speechless for a moment. A moment he needed to press his advantage.
He gave Lady Agatha a bland look. “I’m afraid it has gone too far for that.”
Lady Whumples sat straight up in her chair. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I have compromised your niece.” The absurdity of the statement suddenly struck him. A Familiar compromising a woman! It was difficult for him to contain his laugh, but he managed it.
Lady Whumples did not see anything humorous in the statement; on the contrary, she was aghast. “What?”
“What?” Lila
c said at the same time. She threw him a furious glare and started walking over to her aunt, who was fanning her face, her shallow breath coming in short gasps.
“I’m afraid I did not hear you correctly, your H-highness,” the old lady stuttered, “wh-what did you say?”
Rejar cleared his throat and succinctly repeated in a loud voice, “I said, I have compromised your niece.”
“He’s lying!” Lilac hissed. She knelt before her aunt. “The despicable rogue is lying! He’s made no secret of the fact the he wants to…well, you know, Auntie.”
Agatha brushed away Lilac’s words, turning to the Prince. Her low authoritative voice bellowed throughout the room. “What is the nature of this compromise?”
Rejar’s gaze flicked to Lilac’s furious expression. “We have been intimate.”
Lilac stood, her fists clenching. “Oh, he lies!”
Agatha looked back and forth between the two of them. Her sharpened gaze rested on Prince Nickolai. She relaxed. He was clever, she’d give the young blood that.
“What am I to do, young man?” Agatha slyly said, stressing certain words so the Prince would get the point. “She denies your statement. Quite vehemently I might add.”
Rejar rubbed his jaw in thought, suddenly piercing Lilac with a smug look. “She has a kitten-shaped birthmark on her thigh.” His eyes flashed with devilish mischief as he whispered, “Her inner thigh.”
“I shall faint!” Aunt Agatha began fanning herself vigorously. This was a bit much!
Lilac flushed. How had he known?
Sensing that the chase was all but over, Rejar artfully sprung the trap. “Yes, I have quite ‘ruined’ your niece.” As if a woman could be ruined by such a thing. Again he tried not to let the vagaries of this race make him laugh out loud.
He turned to Lilac, blinking slowly, as if something of momentous import had just occurred to him. He recalled a line from a joke Byron had once told him. “And there could be a child to think of, sweetings.”
“I shall faint!”
Aunt Agatha had said it, but Lilac did it.
“I shocked her.” Rejar took the moistened cloth from Lady Agatha and gently laid it across Lilac’s forehead. After she had fainted, he had scooped her up, carefully laying her on the settee. She still had not come to.