She laughed hysterically. “Are you ill? I have never heard such a ridiculous tale in my life. Think up a better one, your Highness.”
He gave her The Smile.
A chill raced down her spine. If ever there was a man who reminded one of a…She paled. “I am a woman of good sense and sound judgement! I cannot credit such a wild story. As I say—try again.”
The red silk material pulled taut over the muscles in his crossed arms. His long black hair slid forward to curtain his face as he inclined his head, patiently in wait. “Really?”
Lilac faltered for a moment. The picture he made was of an utterly sensuous man. An utterly untamed man. She tried to regain her composure. “Positively. Next you’ll tell me that the dreams—” She stopped abruptly, realizing what she almost revealed to him.
His head snapped up. With a sardonic grin, he abandoned his casual stance by the door and began a deliberate pace towards her. “Those dreams—my sweet, sweet Lilac—were not dreams.”
Her mouth parted in surprise. Did he know about the dreams as well? Her face flushed. How? “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I do not find it amusing! You may leave.” She waved her hand as if to brush the debris out.
He stopped in front of her and pierced her with a steely gaze.
She swallowed convulsively. The Prince could be most intimidating.
Lifting his hand, he insolently ran the tip of his finger down the side of her face. He stopped his motion long enough to rub the pad back and forth over the sensitive spot in front of her ear. Excited nerve endings instantly sizzled to his expert touch.
Somehow, it did not surprise her that he knew this about her as well.
He continued to trace his fingertips lightly along the underside of her jaw to her chin. With a simple upward flick of his thumb, he positioned her mouth to his liking.
“Stop,” she whispered nervously.
“I think not,” he murmured.
Lilac watched those sensual lips coming near and her breath stopped in her throat. Odd—the small indentation below his slightly full bottom lip fascinated her. It was as if she somehow knew exactly what pleasure that sultry lip could deliver. She stood transfixed like prey caught in the hunter’s sight, feeling the heat of him, his warm breath drifting against her mouth. Poised to capture.
He lowered his mouth to hers very, very slowly. He was through waiting.
Instinctually, just a hair’s breath from touch, he hesitated. It was the false reprieve of predator to prey that signified the end of the chase.
Then he was there.
Covering her mouth with his own. Filling her with his taste, his scent, his velvet warmth. He was fluid, damp, expert. He enticed while he demanded. He mastered while he claimed.
It was the kiss of a conqueror.
This time he insisted on entrance to her mouth, seizing his right as her bonded mate to take possession of that which belonged to him and him alone. His swift tongue dipped between her lips, shocking her into clutching the lapels of his robe. He stroked inside her. Tasted her. Swallowed her.
The Familiar unleashed her control with one sweep of his gifted tongue.
In this one area, at least, she never stood a chance. He knew it. And now she knew it too.
Lilac closed her eyes tightly. He was going to have her. She could not stop him. With this sure knowledge came fear…and something else. She began to shake, from exactly what she could not say.
Rejar sensed her fear—a lot of fear. But under the fear…
He spoke low in her ear. “You cannot hide what you feel from me, Lilac; I sense your desire.”
A small sound issued from her lips. He stared deeply into her frightened, expectant eyes. Their breaths sounded in the quiet room, a complimentary cadence. The mating kiss he had given her earlier was syncopating their life rhythms.
When she inhaled, he exhaled.
When she exhaled, he inhaled.
It was the awakening sound of building passion.
His arm went securely around her waist, bringing her snug against him. Lowering his head, he began to sip on the skin of her neck and throat, his movements as graceful and sophisticated as an artist’s. Rejar entered into the trancelike state which preceded the ancient mating dance of the Familiars. The nearer he came to the spot in the curve of her throat where her neck met her shoulder, the more his blood pulsed. His breathing became deeper, slower. Desire pounded in his veins, thick and hot.
He had never experienced the mating trance before. It was a drugging sensuality, at once enervating and electrifying. Surrendering to his passion, he opened all his senses to her completely, letting her seep inside him. She was a rich viscous honey. Each pore of his being filled with everything that was Lilac; her essence hummed inside of him, vibrating a complimentary pitch to their now synchronous breaths.
It was the most extraordinary experience of his life.
Without conscious thought, he shucked off the robe he wore. It slid to the floor in a puddle at his feet, forgotten. In the same beat, he began to undo the small pearl buttons going down the front of her nightrail.
Lilac closed her eyes tightly, too ashamed to look upon a naked man. In her fear, her hands clutched his powerful shoulders—in some strange way the cause became the anchor. What terrible thing would he do to her?
His lips followed the descent of his hand, laving what he revealed between the heavy folds of the material. She felt the heat of his mouth, a line of fire trickling down her belly. The masculine hands at her waist began to inch up the fabric of her gown while his lips and tongue worked their magic on the narrow band of soft skin. Her eyes opened a slit.
The buttons stopped just below her belly button. Down on one knee now, Nickolai paused to look up at her before leaning forward to press a possessive kiss on the slight swell of her stomach. Then he stood, his hands taking the bunched cloth in his grasp and lifting it over her head.
He tossed the ugly garment into the fire. It would no longer come between them at night.
“My gown!” She could not evade his embrace to save her night rail from the fire. Greedy flames licked at the cloth. In seconds it was consumed by the inferno. She viewed Nickolai out of the corner of her eye, catching a smooth expanse of golden-tan skin. Consumed as I shall be. A little whimper escaped her.
Rejar had no way of knowing that a great deal of Lilac’s fear was in not knowing exactly what he was going to do with her. She knew it involved some mysterious exchange but no one had ever told her what that exchange was.
His hands came down on her shoulders, turning her in the direction of the expansive floor-length mirror which hung against the wall. Lilac took one look, saw something very large, and shut her eyes. She heard his low chuckle…behind her?
Maybe they were just supposed to stare at each other naked in the looking glass. That seemed pretty risqué—a very intimate thing to do. Yes, that must be it. How long would he want to look at her? This was terribly embarrassing. No wonder women dreaded it! This was—
His velvet lips touched her shoulder. The edge of his hand brushed her hair forward to the right side of her throat, exposing the back of her neck.
Strong arms came around her waist from behind, pulling her back against heated skin.
Those same arms crossed in front of her, imprisoning her, each hand cupping a breast to massage and knead and rub. His thumbs flicked her nipples, making them protrude and tighten. It made her feel edgy and wanting.
Muscular male legs stroked sinuously against the back of her legs and derriere.
The erotic things he was doing to her made her shiver. I think it’s not just looking in the mirror. Lilac began to shake with a combination of fear and desire.
Growling, his heated lips opened on the curve of her neck, wildly drawing on her as his arms tightened about her waist. Lilac’s breaths were ragged now, catching in her throat at his almost animalistic action. It was the Nickolai of her dreams! How? How?
“Put your palms against
the mirror.” His low snarl was an order.
By the sound of him, she did not dare refuse. She braced herself against the glass. A powerful thigh forced its way between her legs. She could feel him against her now, enormous. The broad head of his shaft was at the entrance of her feminine core. He wasn’t going to…!
She had only a second to panic before he sunk his teeth sharply into the nape of her neck and simultaneously pierced her maidenhead in one powerful thrust.
Lilac screamed.
She kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut as the pain flowed through her in waves, making her aware that he was embedded in her to the hilt. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.
Rejar knew he had hurt her. There was no help for it. Her maiden state combined with the position of the ritualistic first mate-bond of the Familiars made it inevitable. He could feel her trembling against him, around him.
He remained motionless inside her, allowing her to adjust to him. The pain would soon be over and the pleasure would begin. His action mirroring his thought, Rejar licked her tear away.
When he felt her ease around him, he spoke low in her ear. “Open your eyes and look at me, my beautiful wife.”
Still shaken, Lilac remained as she was, eyes tightly closed.
“I want you to see me when I first move in you,” he whispered against her. “I want you to look on me and know that I am inside you. Open your eyes, souk-souk; we are joined. Right now—this moment. We are like one being. Look…” he coaxed softly.
She opened her eyes slowly. Great luminous green pools gazed up at him through the mirror. Innocent, beautiful eyes that tugged at his heart. Aviaran eyes.
“N-Nickolai…” She turned her head to look up at him. There was wonder on her face. Wonder and soon, he hoped, desire.
He bent his head at an angle, sweetly capturing her lush lips. “Watch…in the mirror.” He moved a fraction of an inch. Her eyes widened. Her lips, still dewy from his kiss, parted in surprise.
He withdrew halfway and slid into her. She gasped.
Again.
“My god.”
And again.
“Nickolai.”
He made a low husky sound against her neck. “Mmmm…”
His mouth laved her neck and throat, kissing, licking, as he hugged her close to him and began a steady, vigorous rhythm.
His spicy scent surrounded her, steaming her hot. Little mewing sounds issued from her throat. He acknowledged them by catching her earlobe in his teeth with a quick, tugging motion. Watching him in the mirror, Lilac could not prevent the moan that escaped her lips.
The rhythm he set became a harmonic chant to his pagan saturnalia.
He excited, he touched, he moved, he awakened.
Each thrust came more powerful than the last. She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming out loud. He was a raging storm.
The tempest of his sexual fury called forth her latent passion. Longing flared up from deep within, burst through her and, in turn, him. He fueled their hunger higher and higher with every yearning stroke, then, like his kind, mastered the ferocity he unleashed.
His hands came over hers on the mirror, his strong fingers interlacing with hers. She could feel the sinews of his muscular arms slide along her own, straining and bunching with his erotic movements. The fiery heat of him covered her like a second skin. He thrust and thrust and thrust.
She couldn’t catch her breath! Torrid sensations spiraled through her, wave upon wave…the pleasure, she would surely die of it!
“I…I can’t…I—” was all she could seem to utter. Her head fell back against his chest. She was near to swooning.
He bit her shoulder.
“Have mercy! Have mercy, Nickolai!” she cried out.
With a final thrust that nearly lifted her off her feet, he growled savagely into the nape of her neck, “Rejar. I am Rejar.”
Then everything exploded around her and within her.
Including him.
Chapter Ten
She collapsed into his arms.
Rejar easily scooped her up. Walking over to the bed, he tossed back the covers and carefully laid her down. Lilac’s eyes fluttered open. Dazed, her pupils were still dilated with her recent desire. Catching sight of them inflamed him anew.
She watched him silently, her lips gently parted. There was wonder on her face as well as apprehension and shock.
He stood beside the bed, letting his gaze trail a possessive path down the length of her body. He flinched slightly when he spotted the splatters of blood on her thighs.
Embarrassed, Lilac tried to cover herself.
His hand shot out, clasping her wrist. “No.”
She turned away too shy to look at him. “I need to wash; let me—”
“Leave it for now.” His lids lowered halfway. “The sight of it stimulates me.”
Lilac didn’t think he needed any more stimulation. She purposely threw him a scathing look to dampen that line of thinking. “Proof of how you hurt me? Does that make you feel good?”
He shook his head. “Proof of how you belong to me alone. Where I come from, it is not a common sight. I apologize for the pain I gave you; although, I must admit, I savored the rarity of the experience.”
Lilac blushed red as a beet. She didn’t want to think about what he had done to her. Well, it was over with now. She had survived the encounter. It was time to put it behind them and go on about their lives. The Prince had gotten what he wanted. He could go his merry way.
“How nice for you, your Highness. Now, if you’ll just—What do you think you’re doing?!” she yelped. Nickolai had come down full length on top of her.
Rejar chuckled low. “What do you think I am doing?”
“You can’t be serious! We already did it! I have no intentions of standing up to lean against that mirror again!”
Rejar threw back his head and let out a roar of laughter.
“I fail to see what you find humorous in the situation. I—oh!” He slid into her completely, the moistness from their previous encounter easing his entry. “This way too?” she squeaked.
His deep laugh rumbled against her.
“Every way, souk-souk.” He nipped her bottom lip.
“No, Nickolai, you mustn’t!”
He grinned down at her. “I am afraid I must.” He started to move in her, then suddenly stopped when he remembered her untried state. Raising his head, his face was intent on hers. “Does it hurt?”
If Lilac had been thinking more clearly she would’ve realized that if she responded in the affirmative, he would have stopped immediately. As it was, her honest nature won out. “Not now…it’s just that I thought you were done with this”—she wiggled against him—“business.” Her squirming movements made him flex deep inside her. A little sigh of enjoyment escaped her lips.
Rejar smiled knowingly. “As long as I am breathing I will never be done with this ‘business.’” One black eyebrow lifted. “You will just have to suffer through it, souk-souk.” So saying, he dropped his head to capture her nipple.
On hearing his prognosis, her lower lip pouted mutinously. “But Nickolai, I don’t like you!” She moaned as his white teeth grazed the peak of her breast.
“It is all right, Lilac. You do not have to like me to do this—you just have to want me.” He pressed in on her and Lilac shivered in response.
Rejar had no way of knowing how his casual words would later come back to haunt him. Distracted by their passion, he proceeded to give her a small taste of what it meant to be the mate of a Familiar.
At close to one in the morning, she began to shyly whisper her encouragement to him.
Around two, she started moaning in ecstasy.
At three o’clock, she was screaming her pleasure.
And by four, she was begging him for it.
Lilac was in a dead sleep.
She lay curled against him, her cheek resting against one side of his chest, her fingers splayed against the other side. Their le
gs were tangled up and every now and then her little toe twitched against the inside of his ankle as it did now. Rejar kissed the top of her head.
For her sake, he had held back.
Lovemaking was very new to her and he thought it best to introduce her only to the basic essentials this first night.
Even so, it had been a surprisingly satisfying beginning.
The memory of it was enough to get him started all over again, and if Lilac was not so exhausted he might do just that. The palm of his hand unconsciously rubbed her back. A Familiar woman would not be so tired. Then again, a Familiar woman would not be in a maiden state by this age. The one thought led to another…
The primary reason Familiar men stayed close to home when it came time to mate was that they believed a non-Familiar woman could not satisfy them over the long term. Rejar disagreed. In his travels, it had been his experience that passion was contagious and tended to rise to its highest form, whatever that form may be. He would simply have to guide Lilac to his own level of physicality.
Already his very existence had set a precedence in the Familiar race, being the first child conceived of Charl and Familiar. Now he was setting a second precedent as the first Familiar male to take a non-Familiar wife. An untouched woman. He smiled. Perhaps it is my destiny to forge new pathways.
He chuckled at the incongruous idea. He was a man who cared little about forging pathways; he just liked to enjoy life.
Temporarily sated, Rejar’s thoughts drifted pleasantly. He never would have believed introducing a woman to her sensuality could be so erotic. Never would he forget the look in her eyes when he first moved in her; the wonder on her face when she experienced the beginnings of feminine desire; the joy in her eyes when he gave her her first release. These were gifts to him alone and he would carry them with him in his heart forever.
Much of his restlessness was gone.
But not all.
There had been no Transference.
Despite his Familiar blood, he had wondered whether it would occur. Aviaran men had a tendency to spark when they made love. And when they mated, they really sparked. The Charl, of course, by their nature, were high sparkers.