Moon Borne (Halcyon Romance Series Book 1) (16 page)

Arsenius growled low in his throat while her fingers brushed his length, dancing along the veins, teasing their way to the tip and back. Though his flesh was silken, underneath was rigid, like one of her blades.

“Teach me how to pleasure you,” she murmured against his lips.

He placed his hand atop hers and glided their hands up and down, showing her the rhythm of the strokes. “Now, your turn.” The corner of his mouth curved and he eased his hand off hers, giving her rein to explore his body.

She closed her fist around him and slowly pumped. With her left hand, she traced the path of dark curls to his navel. He shifted and opened his thighs wider. She accepted the invitation and trailed her fingers lower. The heavy weight of his sac filled her hand.

Amazing, how this male, who’d suffered such torture, closed his eyes for her to explore him. Her heart softened at the trust he placed in her—trust she wasn’t sure she’d earned, but would never betray. In this moment, her heart swore she would not kill this male.

Arsenius was not her enemy.

An ache deepened low in her belly, an emptiness demanding to be filled. He lifted her and nudged his leg between hers, so she straddled his thigh. She moaned as the ache deepened, growing more insistent.

As she stroked him, she rubbed her core against his undulating thigh, climbing ever closer to the blinding ecstasy he’d shared with her before. He covered her hand with his and made more aggressive strokes. Clasping her bottom with his other hand, he rocked her against him, and she wrapped her arm around his neck for support.

Soon both of their moans filled the cabin and their labored breathing intensified. White heat exploded in her center, stole her strength, and shattered her. Had he not been holding her so firmly, she would have liquefied into a puddle on the floor. She cried out and collapsed into him, his body shuddering against hers.

Arsenius loosened his lethal grasp on her body. She tilted her head and slid her tongue along her bottom lip at the thick, determined erection in her hand. No presence of seed indicated it was spent. Had she imagined his thunderous roar in her ear? The spasms which had rippled through his body?

Or did her splendid male simply demand more?

***

Arsenius chuckled at the crease in Kyme’s forehead. “Son of Ares, remember?” he murmured. “One of the many gifts from his consort Aphrodite. Limitless virility, if I wish.”

She gripped him in her hands and flashed him a wicked smile that broke his last defense. “Is that what you wish, Arsenius?”

He swallowed hard.
She can’t be serious
. He searched her expression, and though a playfulness shone in those blue depths, unfulfilled passion consumed them. Aye, the Amazon legends were true.

The part deep inside him which yearned to bond would never deny her. Yet he couldn’t cope with more of her explorations. Already his lust simmered to a point where he wasn’t sure he would resist the urge to thrust deep inside her with his next release.

He’d pinned her so tightly against him he’d almost crushed her. As a result, the honey of her arousal slicked his thigh, taunting him to taste her. He grinned. And so he would.

Scooping Kyme up, he carried her to the bed. He laid her carefully on the mattress and strode back to the desk where he snatched up his breeches.

She sat up on her elbows. “What are you—?”

“Brace yourself,
Amazone
.” He hauled on his breeches. “Now I shall tame your body to
my
touch.”

Her eyes widened, darkening until they were no longer blue. He strode back to the bed and claimed her lips. With satisfaction, he unbound her heavy braid and twisted his fingers into her chestnut curls. She moaned and sank into the mattress. He draped his weight above her, nudged her thighs apart, and settled in between them.

His lips trailed to her breasts, where his tongue flicked across each of her tight peaks, but his mouth had a different destination.

He unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and kissed his way down until his lips secured his ambrosia. That fragrance at the center of her, which no mortal man was ever meant to sample. He teased her swollen bud, savoring her low moans, the way she gasped at this new sensation. As he determined how she liked to be suckled, he lost himself in her plush sex.

He cupped her bottom in his hands and lifted her body to his mouth to feast on her. Kyme’s fingers dug through the sheets, crept across to his hair, and burrowed in his locks, urging him on. Just like her panting whimpers. He shifted his tongue lower, ravenous to claim more of her.

She arched her back and tilted her hips. “Oh yes, please, Arsenius.”

His tongue circled her entrance. She gasped and bucked against him, as frantic as he was to fill her. He couldn’t resist, couldn’t deny. With extreme caution, he lowered his hand and dipped his finger inside her sweet sex.

He groaned into her thigh at how sleek, tight, needy she was.

“More,” her sultry voice pleaded.

Ever so gently, he returned his finger, thrust a little deeper, careful not to break that which was priceless to them both.

Sweat beaded his forehead. His cock throbbed rebelliously inside his breeches, demanding to be released, to replace his finger. Yet too much was at stake to renounce her virginity in a blind moment of passion. Besides, his control was so far gone he’d release before he made it even halfway inside her.

He’d crossed the edge of his restraint. Finding her nub, in earnest, he drank her in. His finger delved inside her until her sheath convulsed around him and she cried out in rapture. He clenched his jaw as she cradled his head to her abdomen, until he could bear it no longer.

The scent of her on his tongue was too much. The sight of her lying nude on the mattress, ready for him to claim, was a temptation he wasn’t prepared to face. He grunted as he retreated from her sweet warmth and paced at the base of the bed.

“I need some air. I’ll return later.” Halfway through the door, he stole one last glimpse of Kyme.

This shared physical pleasure, it had to be enough.

He shook his head.

It would never be enough.

***

Kyme sighed as she sank into the sheets. She’d never believed her sisters when they’d recounted the ecstasy to be shared with a male.

One taste hadn’t been enough, and she feared the more she indulged, the greater her addiction would grow.

When would Arsenius return? The way he’d growled with masculine arrogance had sent shivers through her body. He was a magnificent lover who exploited his talent. His masterful skill interpreted and fulfilled her desires. His touch avenged her one hundred and forty-three years of abstinence. No ordinary man would measure up to him. She was sure of it. In the same way she understood he’d never take, only give. He would not hurt her. No, he’d been wounded too many times to ever inflict such pain on another.

Everything in her life thus far was predictable, safe. Just this once, she could wish for something for herself. To place her own aspirations above those of her sisters. She’d been living a life of self-denial for so long, she hadn’t even realized she had such needs. Until she’d met Arsenius.

The tenderness she felt for him terrified her. She shook off those foolish musings.
I’m an Amazon.
What she experienced was passion.

It would never be anything more. This was as much as she had to give. She wouldn’t relinquish her gift. Or her life. She wasn’t a fool. No male would be satisfied forever with kissing and caressing.

Would there never be more?

Perhaps Arsenius didn’t intend to take things any further. He might revoke his word and hand her over to his buyer, permanently. They hadn’t worked out a plan yet, and… He’d spent years searching for a way to free his sister.

As he’d told her, she was his sister’s only hope.

What if he wasn’t so eager to take her virtue, after all?

***

Arsenius removed his shirt and eased onto the bed beside Kyme. Gods, she was lovely. A lone candle burned and its glow was more than enough for his sharp eyes to discern her delicate features, every sensuous curve of her body. She was exactly like something that walked in a man’s dreams, not while he was awake.

Her chestnut curls fanned the pillow and he couldn’t resist wrapping one tendril around his finger. Releasing it, he stroked her forehead, his other hand rubbing slow circles on her back. She moaned in her sleep and curled closer to him, pushing her bottom into his groin. His cock shot to life. Suppressing a growl, he firmly told that member of his anatomy to recede. It was not making another appearance tonight.

It’d been a long time indeed since he’d held a female. Not since his baby sister had been a sleep-troubled child. The memory of rocking her to sleep in his arms still brought a sting to his eyes.

He clutched Kyme tighter to his chest. He would not choose between them.

By the gods, he would not.

***

Arsenius stretched out in his bed and his senses fired. A small weight rested beside him. With his left hand, he clasped the handle of a dagger he stowed under his pillow. Rolling over, he raised the blade, preparing to sink it into whoever had ventured into his chamber. His eyes flew open just as he was about to plunge the knife.

Kyme.
He used his right hand to clutch his left and steady it. Then his breathing. Deep, heavy gasps.
I might have killed her.
All of these years he’d trained not to let down his guard, to be prepared to attack.

Hell, he didn’t risk sleeping with anyone because dozens of men, and women, had attempted to slit his throat while he slept. He always killed them first.

As he watched Kyme sleep, long-abandoned emotions invaded his chest. His heart. He yearned to protect her. Which was foolish. She was more than capable of handling herself. Yet, he’d been the first to touch her, to introduce her to carnal pleasure. He’d made her feel safe, and in turn, her trust had made him powerful.

Her softness, her warmth beside him felt right. As though she was meant to always sleep beside him. Her chest gently rose and fell with each sweetly-scented breath. If he wasn’t careful, he would soon be completely lost.

To her.

Chapter 15

Arsenius watched Kyme for hours as she slept. Though he’d only climaxed once, he’d never been so sated. He hadn’t even been inside her. Rather than linger on what a full claiming would be like, he focused on what he had. Right here, lying beside Kyme, he could spend his life with her. The notion caused the weight in his chest pull at him even harder.

“I wanted you to hate me.” Arsenius ground his jaw.

Kyme blinked at him. He hadn’t realized she was awake, so he rushed to explain. “That night on Limnos. I wanted you to hate me.”

Understanding softened her features. “I know, and I know why.”

He gave his head a slight shake. “I tried everything to rid myself of you, Kyme. Yet somehow, here you are.” He brushed the hair back from her face.

She tensed in his arms.

Right. He braced his resolve. What the hell was he doing, confessing his emotions to an Amazon? Damn, the word love almost slipped out. If Amazons did fear anything, it was that word uttered by a male.

By the gods, did he want her. Her essence, her purity. Not just her innocence, but a measure of virtue he’d concluded didn’t exist in this world. He hadn’t perceived it since…

“Tell me about Lena.”

His gaze shot to hers and he ignored the lump in his throat, the stinging of his eyes.

With tenderness, she trailed a finger along his cheek. Leaning into him, she pressed her lips to his. As she pulled back, she cupped his face in her hands. “Will you tell me about her?”

His eyes grew misty as the image of a delicate, blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel flashed across his vision. “Our mother died giving birth to her. Only, well, she wasn’t precisely Lena’s mother. A surrogate mother is more accurate. Lena is the daughter of Ares and Aphrodite. The other gods on Olympus disapproved of their relationship, so Zeus eventually forbade them from having more children.”

He spread his fingers across hers, which caressed his cheek. “They discovered another way. If a mortal woman bears their child, the child will not be immortal or possess enough gifts to make the other gods jealous. My mother, though, was not strong enough…” He drifted off for a moment.

Kyme squeezed his hand. “How old were you?”

“Twelve.” He pushed back to sit. “Our mother understood the risk. It was her choice.” A smiled tugged at his lips as the memory fluttered in his mind. “Gods, I fell in love the moment I gazed upon Lena’s sweet face. As much as I sought someone to blame for my mother’s death, it could not be Lena.” His grin deepened. “Not a soul who looked upon her was not enamored.”

A reciprocating smile played on her lips. “How old is she now?”

His heart clenched.
If
she were alive. “She would be four and twenty.”

“Arsenius, why did her parents not intervene? Surely if she had been beloved by them—”

The images in his mind frosted over. “Think not so highly of the gods. In the end, they will only seek to please themselves and their fair words will come to naught.”