She couldn't even be sure what she cried about. Seeing her mother, knowing how they treated her there, or feeling for the first time in her life what it was like to be useless, powerless. Burying her face in his shirt, she let the tears come.
He spoke quietly to her in demonic words she didn't understand. She got their meaning; he was trying to soothe her. And it worked. Like snow melting in the sun, the cold chill of fear melted away bit by bit in his arms. He'd keep her safe; he'd protect her. One arm held her pulled against him so tightly that not a breath of air could pass between them, and the other trailed up and down her back in comforting strokes.
She let out an unsteady breath as the crying finally stopped. Her cheeks were warm from a mixture of crying and embarrassment, her eyes were wet, and now he had a large damp circle on his shirt. She pulled back and let out a ragged laugh; it felt good, eased some of the tension inside her. Then she looked up at his eyes, and stilled.
He watched her with predatory awareness. A tiger about to pounce. His eyes smoldered with needs, some of which she wasn't sure she could identify. His hand swept up into her hair to cup her head, tilted it to the side and her breath caught. She knew what he was about to do and every bone in her body wanted it. Her stomach and core clenched with something tight and hot, her breasts suddenly felt heavy in her bra like she'd break the straps of the flimsy material if she so much as jumped. And her heart raced so fast, so loudly, she heard it roaring in her ears, heard her choppy breathing cutting through the quiet air between them.
His eyes swept down to her mouth and then he leaned forward and caught her lips with his own. He didn't kiss her gently, he took her. His lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue conquering her, sweeping inside in a forceful thrust, paring against hers like he mimicked something else entirely. She moaned as the sensation swept up inside her, wetting her, teasing her, warming her blood like melted chocolate.
Her hands came up to grip the long tendrils of his hair. He groaned in approval then squeezed that arm and wrapped around her tighter, pulling her flush against his hard body. And hard he was. She pressed against him, eager to learn more about him, needing to feel him push against her and relieve the burning heat he created between her legs.
He changed the angle of the kiss, thrusting, circling his tongue heavily into her mouth, licking her lips, biting them, sucking them into his mouth and nibbling it with his sharp teeth. He bent his knees then rocked forward with her hips. A wild moan fluttered out from her as his cock speared against her sex. He growled something in demonic, then arched against her again, bending down then thrusting up against her core, rubbing his long cock against her swollen sex. Even with the obstruction of clothing, she whimpered and tightened her grip in his hair. It just felt so good; she'd never felt anything like it.
With a growing hunger of her own, she nipped back at his lips then thrust her tongue in his mouth, dueling and sucking the wet length. His hands became eager, sweeping down her back to cup her bottom and hold her still as he worked his hips against her, bumping his cock along her clitoris in a way that made everything clench tighter inside her like a coiling spring. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, everything was getting harder: her breathing, her tense muscles, her nipples. There was nothing else in the world except him and her.
A sharp whistle tore her out from her sultry thoughts. She whipped her head to the side just as Telal did and they knocked noses against each other. With a soft giggle she rubbed at the throbbing protrusion.
Atop a small cliff stood Kearnyn. Comprehension slowly came. Of course they wouldn't be back at the Tennessee rift, he probably had no clue she even went there. He'd ported them back to where he'd left from—where ever that was.
“Kearnyn,” Telal acknowledged. His arms were still wrapped around her like a second skin, still holding her bottom in his grip. He slowly opened his fingers then pulled his arms away, and finally took two steps back.
“It's been four hours.”
CHAPTER 19
“Yes, that long,” Telal said, distracted.
His eyes watched her with a mixture of disbelief, desire, and confusion. Then he looked away and the bond between them broke. At Telal's look, Kearnyn hopped down from the cliff, kicking up a black ashy smoke cloud. He came towards them and Telal wasted no time touching both of their arms and porting them again.
Telal's office appeared and with only a glance at Telal she could see he looked as weary as she felt. Suddenly, she felt so tired, exhausted.
Her eyes grew heavy, her muscles lax, and she yawned broadly. “Come on, I'll take you to your room.”
She nodded and started walking with zombie-like steps to the door, but then he came up behind her and scooped her up in his arms. She let out a surprised sound and wrapped an arm around his neck, then when he didn't protest that, laid her heavy head on his shoulder. She sighed. It felt good.
He turned to Kearnyn. “When I get back, we have to talk. Wait here.” Then he was walking to the elevator and they were waiting in it as the machine slowly drifted down to her floor. She kept her heavy eyelids closed the whole time and let her body relax more and more by little increments. He smelled wonderful, sexy and male. He felt even better, strong and agile.
He'd kissed her, done more than that. There was something there. The fact that she hadn't made that up in her twisted mind brought a smile to her face. He opened the door and kicked it shut behind him. She opened her eyes at the cold, modern hotel-style room. Her few meager items were still on the dresser and floor. The sheets still ruffled and pulled down. It all looked the same, but it felt so much different now. He walked her to the bed, tightening his hold on her as he reached down to pull the covers back.
“Want your shoes off?” he asked in a gruff, quiet voice. She was so tired she could barely talk so she just nodded and toed them off. He set her in and pushed her legs under the covers, then pulled them up to her chest. She just looked up at him, trying to figure out what she should say about everything. He looked awful. Handsome, but awful. Lines etched across his forehead, his eyebrows were drawn down in consternation, and his lips down in a frown.
He started to pull away and she reached up, her fingertips gliding across his cheek and lips. “Don't be sad.” She didn't know how, but she'd do everything in her power to make things right, to help him. He jerked his head to the side in a 'no'.
No what? He couldn't not be sad or did he not want her to touch him? He stood and started to turn away but at the last moment, came back around and leaned down over her.
“Telal,” she said softly.
He half-laughed, who knew what about. “I like you better like this.” She pulled back in confusion.
“Like what?” He only shook his head again and pressed his lips against hers, softly, the touch barely there. Then he pulled away and went to the door. His eyes scanned the room one last time as if making sure it was clear of perpetrators. His eyes caught on something on the floor—probably her mess of clothes. He walked to the other side of the room and picked up and empty jar.
Lily's stomach hit the floor, her pulse raced. He brought the jar to his nose and sniffed, cringing.
“What is this?”
“For my pain.” His eyes lifted to hers.
“Should I make you some?”
Her heart melted. That he'd do that for her now almost made her want to cry.
She shook her head. “No, I don't hurt badly. Just some sore arms.” He nodded then set the jar on the dresser, then glanced down at the floor and picked up her other empty jar. He smelled that one too. “This one doesn't smell nearly as bad. Two different potions?”