Mistress of Redemption (28 page)

didn’t want one
like
Dona. He

wanted
her
. Was that ridiculous, like the soldier falling for his nurse?

Maybe it was a twisted sort of

Stockholm Syndrome, or an

attachment to the first woman who’d

offered justice and love in the same

touch. His gut, which had been well

honed to identify the nuances of a

woman’s moods to take advantage of

her, sensed what lay between the two

of them was far more than that. She’d

said they were soul mates, hadn’t

she?

When she tightened her muscles on

him, he gasped, his fingers curling

into her dark hair. “Mistress.”

“Harder now. Stronger. Let me feel

how strong you are,” she whispered.

“How savage your passion can be

when it’s unleashed honestly.”

He didn’t need a second invitation or

further explanation. Scooping his arm

under her waist, he clamped her to

him, held both of their weights on one

arm as he surged into her. Thrusting

his cock hard and deep, he watched

her eyes glaze, her mouth open, that

beautiful neck arch back even further,

inviting. Her fingers dug into his

buttocks and he didn’t disappoint her,

continuing the deep thrusts, fully

withdrawing on each stroke to tease

her sensitive opening and clit, feeling

how she slid slickly over him.

Their boat rocked, adding to the

sensation with the uncontrolled

response to their passion. The world

tilted around them.

“My name.” He suddenly had that one

desperate demand. “Please.”

“Nathan. My heart. My soul mate.” It

came to her lips so easily, he knew it

had to be truth. She knew the purest

part of who he was. He was here

between her legs now, giving her all

of himself, all she would allow. With

an overwhelming desire he’d never

allowed himself to feel, he
wanted
to give it all. He didn’t want to be

afraid, just wanted 109

Joey W. Hill

to give everything to her, even if she

slashed him to ribbons. As they drew

closer to climax, the power of it

immersed him. He could tell she was

experiencing the same connection.

Light was rising, surrounding them

both as if they were about to detonate

and create a new star.

He bent his head, fully intending to

capture her lips with his own, feeling

that he could dare it now. However,

her hand came up at the last moment,

pressing against his mouth. He had to

content himself with sucking on those

fingertips, licking the tender

crevices. Suckling on her palm, he

fastened his teeth on her wrist pulse

as she convulsed beneath him, cried

out, her legs tightening on him.

“Go…now…” It was barely

coherent, but he thanked whatever

Powers there were for her mercy as

his cock pulsed in response to the

release of her pussy. He jetted deep

inside her, groaning as her body

gripped him like a fist. He made love

to her, fucked her, gave and took

from her in every way possible to

bring her pleasure, his thighs taut

beneath her questing fingertips,

shoulder muscles standing out as he

gave her every ounce of strength he

had. Serving her pleasure to the last

vibration of her climax, he thought of

nothing else but that, no future plans

or past failures. There was just now.

Their natural green boat swayed with

them, adding to the pleasure, a rhythm

controlled by a power far beyond

both of them and far more ancient.

It was a good thing that Nathan could

not see into her the way she could see

into him at this moment. Immersed in

his thoughts, Dona knew she would

have abandoned everything required

of her just to stay in this moment with

him, her arms and legs holding him,

the quiet sounds of the night

surrounding them. As he slowed,

responding to the languid cadence of

her body signaling her completion,

his chest rose and fell against hers.

When he lowered his head, she

closed her eyes and felt the touch of

his lips against her cheek as he

nuzzled her. She knew everything

inside him. His wonder. His love. At

this moment, she held Nathan in her

arms. Jonathan wasn’t even a

whisper of darkness in the pure light

that filled them.

God, help me be cruel enough to

help him. Don’t let me be selfish.

I’m getting so lost in him,
I’m not
sure what the right path is anymore.

After all they had shared and all she

had done to him, Nathan was amazed

at how light and delicate she felt in

his arms. He tightened his arms

around her because he sensed she

needed that strength, the feel of his

wanting her. He wouldn’t ever stop.

He wanted to tell her, but something

in her face kept him quiet. As they

finished with intense, lingering

aftershocks, his brow came to rest on

hers, his mouth only inches from

those tempting lips. He wondered

mazily if she was so light because he

was holding her soul. It contented

him to believe it.

Pressing his lips to her shoulder, he

closed his eyes as he sensed the

shadows hovering at the edges of his

own soul, waiting. His foster

mothers, his mother. Eliza.

How could he have Dona when there

was so much hatred and bitterness in

him? “The world is so dark,” he

murmured. “You told me there’s

hope. This is the only moment of

hope I can imagine, but you’re not

ready to give me your love. So

there’s only despair for me, isn’t

there?”

110

Mistress of Redemption

Because without you, I can’t be

healed. But if I’m with you…
He

would destroy her. The thought

terrified him. He thought he might

rather suffer the fires of Hell than

know he’d done that to her. For as

invincible as she seemed, he knew

she wasn’t.

She was quiet beneath him, stretching

her neck up to nuzzle his throat with

her nose. He sensed her hesitation, as

if she was considering many different

issues that he did not understand. He

waited on her Will, too full of the

past few moments and too fearful of

the next to speak further.

* * * * *

Darkness could be comforting,

bringing a floating sensation. There

was a flash of light that hurt his eyes.

A sense of apprehension came with

that light, then there was a murmur of

sound. The light receded, became

soft blue, green. The smell of grass

touched his senses and he was staring

up into layers of blue and green

leaves with soft filtering silver lights.

Peace, such as he’d never known and

never imagined could exist, filled

him. It became his blood, his breath.

He could lie here forever and it

would be okay.

Everything he’d done wrong, every

shortcoming he’d recognized or

imagined in himself, every self-

doubt, every hurt, it was all forgiven.

Everything was centered, simple. It

therefore made perfect sense that he

felt her hand in his. Looking over, he

saw she lay beside him, both of them

naked. It wasn’t sexual, it just was.

Her hair was loose and soft, so he

reached out and touched it, held it in

his hands and buried his face in it as

she circled her arms around his head,

held him, rocked with him. They

rolled, tumbled over and over

together on the soft blanket of the

ground, a fun, gentle exercise of

movement. The tangling of limbs, the

rubbing together of bodies. When

they stopped, they were on the slope

of a hill. Sitting up, he kept her in the

span of one arm as he looked around.

They’d been lying in a grove of trees,

but just below the green earth gave

way to the silver plateau of a lake

framed by snow-capped mountains,

sculpted with lines of past melting

waters. A canvas entirely sculpted by

Nature.

Untouched by human hands,

everything tranquil, still…

By the lake, a lion came to drink, an

antelope rubbing up against his flank,

dancing away with playful lack of

fear as he grumbled at it as a cat

might do. A stone’s throw away,

several rabbits lay quietly in their

warren, watching it all. Ducks and

their young moved across the water.

“I’ve never felt…is this one of the

illusions of this place, Dona? Is what

I’m feeling real? What
am
I feeling?”

“Contentment. Pure, simple

contentment. A desire for nothing

except what’s around you already.

No desire to do harm.” When Dona

reached up, touched his face, he

pressed his lips to her wrist, holding

the kiss there, savoring her skin,

feeling the fingers of her other hand

move along his cock and rest against

his thigh. A natural, easy touch, freely

exchanged with no tension or

expectation. As much as he enjoyed

the feel of lust, this was somehow an

even stronger type of desire, even in

its tranquility.

111

Joey W. Hill

“Can we stay here forever?”

A shadow crossed her face. “No.

This is Eden. We can only visit for

special purposes, short moments.

Humans are forbidden to live here

until they achieve full enlightenment.

That’s where there’s hope, Nathan.

Not only in the destination, but in the

journey to get there. The promise of

it.”

* * * * *

“Tell me one dream you had.”

He begged for it, wanting some key

to understanding her. “Big or small.”

“Had?” She lifted a brow. “We

dream here too. We do nothing but

dream.”

His Mistress rested her chin on her

knuckles as they sat cross-legged,

shoulder to shoulder, staring down

the hill at the gateway to Eden. The

being who had temporarily allowed

them entry was back on guard, the

sword like a flickering star.

They were like two kids in a

treehouse, sharing confidences. After

experiencing Eden together, Nathan

thought the bond between them right

now felt like a quiet knowledge of

one another down to the soul, far

beyond sexual interest, even beyond

man and woman. No human could

have remained unmoved in such a

place. He had been given this

glimpse, not just of the Garden, but of

her.

“I used to get poison ivy every year,

in the spring,” she said at last.

“Sometimes it itched so badly… The

best thing for it is wet compresses.

Just a wet cloth laid over it.

There’s this first moment, just a

blink, when the cloth touches your

skin. It’s so intense it almost feels

like an orgasm and you want to

scratch so badly. Then the coolness

is there, taking it all away.

Miraculous, just something natural

that makes it feel better. I always

have this fantasy of a man who loves

me doing that. Putting those wet

compresses on my ankles, this look

of concern in his eyes. Changing them

out when needed. Telling me not to

get up, that he’ll take care of it.” Her

gaze shifted to him. “His kisses

would be like that terrible burning

itch at the first contact, melting away

into something natural that feels like

contentment, everything I need.” A

corner of her mouth lifted. “It wasn’t

what you expected one of my

fantasies to be, was it?”

He couldn’t help but grin, lift a

shoulder. She bumped him with her

own.

“Typical man. Tell me one of your

dreams…or fantasies.”

The question took him by surprise,

mainly because he couldn’t

remember any from his life other than

momentary prurient things about a

woman and sex. Something stirred in

the mud of his subconscious, but like

those shadows that kept flitting in the

edges of his vision, he didn’t want to

look closely at them. The question…

hurt. The other things she’d pulled

from him—anger, anxiety, uncertainty

and confusion—they had been

difficult, but he couldn’t seem to

answer this question.

“I don’t know,” he said at last.

“When you were talking, I thought…

it might be nice to be the type of man

who deserved to kneel at your feet

and put those compresses on.”

He stared down at Eden. “I’ll never

be that kind of person, will I? Ever. I

mean, I want 112

Mistress of Redemption

to at this moment, but in a few

minutes, I’ll be afraid and then angry.

I’ll be angry at you and I won’t know