Prince by Blood and Bone: A Fantasy Romance of the Black Court (Tales of the Black Court) (24 page)

She tore her mouth from his. “Kian?”

His fingers clenched and unclenched on her arms before he let go. He stepped away with a tense, “Yes?” His ragged breathing betraying just how close he was to losing control.

“I want you to swear you’ll let me go in the morning, no matter what,” she said.

His face grew stern. His gaze caught and held hers, and she became lost in the deep, crystalline crevices. He let her go and she lost her balance, catching herself on the back of her chair. His voice dropped, echoing around the room with magical intent.

“Bryanna MacElvy—I, Kian de Dannan of the Black Court of the Tuatha, vow you are released from all obligations to me. That you may leave my presence any time you wish, under whatever circumstances you wish, and that I will help you to do so and not hinder you, whatsoever.”

The hair on her arms prickled. The silence of his vow grew into a thick, tangible thing, a wash of crimson color pushing at her Gift, urging her to open her aura…and see.

But she didn’t need to see it. His sincerity shone in his expression and rang loud in his words. She believed him.

She reached out and touched the back of his hand. Need reverberated along the skin of her fingers, up her palm, and throughout her entire body. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered.

His pupils dilated. “Are you sure?”

“I want you, Kian de Dannan. If this is your last chance to be with a woman as a man and not a beast, I want it to be me.” She left unsaid the rest of her desires. Staying with him was an impossibility. For both of them. He was destined to be a prince, and she was destined to find her family and be a MacElvy. But she could steal one more night. When she left in the morning she’d leave her heart and take only memories with her in its place.

Kian swept Bryanna up into his arms. Her small giggle tickled the skin of his neck and his gut tightened. He’d thought of taking her on the rug, but now he wanted to make every minute he’d be naked and tangled with her count. The night was short and it was all he was going to get.

He carried her out of the room and up to the second floor, taking the stairs two at a time.

In the bedroom, he placed her gently on the white sheets and backed away. She kicked off her slippers and crawled under the duvet. She frowned.

He was suddenly nervous, like he’d never made love to a woman before. Or worse, as if he’d never made love to this woman.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot the robe,” she said.

She untied her robe and spread it wide. He blew out a breath. The crests of her breasts rode high, the outline of her nipples pressing through the nearly transparent fabric of the white nightgown. He was rock hard and ready, and she clearly wanted him. And yet, he hesitated.
Why?

The weight of responsibility settled deep into his gut. Bryanna waited for him on the bed. He loved her and he knew it and because of it everything was different. This felt like the first time, but it would be the last.

He made a decision. He would take his time. Go slow. This was going to be a night he carried for millennium in his aching heart. He wanted to remember it all. The fragile white nightgown, the look on her face, his trembling hands.

She scooted over and patted the bed, her lips tilted up in a wicked come-get-me grin. “I think you’ll need to come closer.”

Relief hit him hard and he relaxed.

Everything was fine, better than fine. He was about to make love to someone he desired, and she wanted him, too. He pushed off the nerves, pulled off his tall black boots, and grinned back. “Patience woman, I’ll be next to you for the rest of the night.”

The delighted ripple of her laugh eased the last of his tension. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, got into the bed and tugged at her robe. “This has to go.”

She twisted and turned, and he pulled the robe off. Her nightgown climbed her thighs, her sweet skin sliding against his and he shuddered. He still wasn’t over having his own skin, he wasn’t sure he’d ever take it for granted again. He caught her chin in his hand and held her still, kissing her as her smile drifted away and slow, serious sensuality crept in.

“That’s better,” he whispered against her mouth. He nipped at her lip, teasing a soft moan from her throat.

She opened her mouth and he kissed her again, his tongue skimming against the flavor of fine wine. His groin pulsed. He wanted to taste her and treasure her…prolong this moment, this kiss, before he lost all thought in plundering her body.

She shifted her hips. His cock nudged under the skirt of her nightgown and brushed between her thighs. All his control fled and the kiss grew savage.

He took, and she gave, their tongues dueling together, licking and stroking and pleasuring. He nuzzled her neck, along her collar bone, and headed down the slope of her cleavage, stopped by the thin fabric of her nightgown. He fisted the neck of the gown in both hands and tore, unable to take the time for her to slide the rest of it off. She gasped.

And the fierce exultation of her shock thrummed through him.

Her ripe breasts fell out. He sank his teeth into their peach-soft flesh. She sucked in air and arched back, her nipple skimming his lips. He sucked the peak into his mouth, working it until it stiffened into a hard nub. She gripped his shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles. He smiled against her skin as he worked, rolling and licking and torturing.

“Enough, Kian, enough,” she said, her breathing coming fast and hard.

He chuckled softly and moved to the other breast. His thumb brushed the wet peak he’d just left, and electricity shot through his cock.

Bryanna floundered under him. “Kian.”

Suddenly, he was done playing.

Serious now, he ripped the rest of the gown off and tossed it aside, staring at the slope of her breasts, the trace of ribs, down her slender waist to the rise of her belly and the dip of her sex.

He nibbled and tasted, pillaging her skin along the same path, marveling at the way she smelled of ripe oranges and spice and sex. When he reached the juncture of her thighs she was wet and spread out for his attention. He growled and dove in, working her clit with his tongue and lips. He sucked with just enough pressure, using skills honed on countless women to make this one never forget him for her entire life.

For he would never forget her.

Never forget the experience of Bryanna, thrashing from side to side, her fists wrapped in the sheets as he moved his fingers inside and brought her to ecstasy.

“Kian.” His name sounded garbled. She latched her hands in his hair, holding him there seconds longer, until she tugged him up, her hot emerald eyes begging him for more.

He moved over her and teased her with his cock, bumping against her center until she took him in her hand. She held him tight and he fought the spasm of pleasure back. Too early. He would not go yet.

She spread her folds with one hand, guiding him in with the other, and he slid into warm, wet, bliss.

Balanced on his elbows, he cradled her beloved face in his hands and rocked inside her. She opened her eyes…and he was lost.

This woman.

This woman moved him in ways he had no way to articulate, let alone understand. He, a man whose speeches had motivated armies and incited rebellion, had no words. Pleasure darkened her pupils until they almost took over her eyes. Her lids shut down, flushing blue with her screams, and still, he watched and moved inside her.

He held himself back until Bryanna had come…and come…and come again. When she opened her eyes he stared into them as long as he could. He came into her warmth and lost himself at the same time. Shuddering into the last throes of his orgasm he drowned in MacElvy green eyes, his world crashing down as he finally understood the truth of his mother’s prophecy.

Something woke Bryanna. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She was cocooned in Kian’s embrace, her back nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped around her as he held her in his sleep. The room was dark, lit only by the remains of the fire. If she ignored he was a prince of the Black Court, ignored he was committed to his own cause, ignored his ruthlessness……if she forgot everything important to her except for him, then she could stay. Here. Wrapped up in an illusion of love, and warmth, and safety.

She could practice her Gift and research spells, until she and her magic were strong enough to lift his curse, and he would be in his true form forever.

And then he would love her.

But even as his warm breath tickled a stray hair by her ear, and his hand brushed the side of her breast, she knew she was leaving. She savored the feel of him wrapped around her. His long legs entwined with hers. The sense of safety and security she felt in this warm, idyllic moment. But it couldn’t last. All she could do was pretend this was real. Later, when she had to get dressed and leave, she would hold this feeling tight in her heart.

She shifted away, intent on getting up and checking on her dress, drying next to the hearth.

Kian’s arm tightened around her waist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured against her neck.

She shivered.

“I wanted to check on my dress and add another piece of wood to the fire.” She pulled away, but he didn’t let go.

“Leave them. There will be time in the morning.”

Anxiety swelled in her throat, and she strained against the steel of his muscles caged around her waist. Maybe he would go back on his promise and force her to stay. For a moment, it was almost tempting. If he forced her to stay, she wouldn’t have to leave. Wouldn’t have to face the forest alone. Maybe she’d be happy as his prisoner, his sexual and magical slave.

But as soon as she thought it, she rejected it. She’d never be happy thinking he only wanted her for her Gift and her body. And she didn’t have the luxury of thinking only of herself, anyway. “I should get up.” She pushed at his arm.

“There isn’t long before the dawn. Please stay with me until the light comes.” At the vulnerability in his voice, she stopped struggling. He nuzzled the back of her neck.

“How long until the sun rises?” she asked. She reached behind her and stroked his thigh. Against the cheeks of her ass, his arousal grew.

“Soon.” He reached up, moved the hair away from her neck, and breathed warmth on her skin.

She shuddered.

“Very soon,” he said.

She stroked her fingers along his thigh, working her way to his groin. “Do we have time?”

“If we hurry.” He kissed her neck, and the sweet syrup of desire trickled down her spine. Her pelvis softened, and she rubbed her hips back against his swollen cock. The end was near but she’d steal these last few moments of darkness.

From the shadowy, far corner of the room, a low masculine voice interrupted, “Well, isn’t this cozy. May I join you?”

“Fuck!” Kian was out of the bed and reaching for his sword before she could react. Finally her brain got her body moving and she squealed and dove for the blanket, pulling it high around her breasts, looking across the room at her satchel and the last of her defensive spells, far out of reach.

The shadow stepped to the end of the bed. Bryanna switched on the bedside lamp and blinked at the slender man dressed all in black leather and smirking at Kian. Moonlight pale skin and shockingly black hair swung carelessly over dark eyes so black as to seem not to have pupils. He was one of the most beautiful young men she had ever seen, but the evil in his smile chilled her skin.

His hands rested casually on his hips, and he cocked a brow at Kian standing nude and ready to fight. “So this is what you’ve been doing while your men rot in prison.” A cold smile flirted with his lips.

“Who are you?” Bryanna asked, trying to scoop her robe up off the floor while staying covered by the blanket.

“I’m your worst nightmare, lassie.”

The flat truth of his statement iced down her spine.

Kian gestured with his sword, keeping the point aimed low at the man’s gut. “Solanum, what business have you here?”

“Have you forgotten your men so quickly then? It’s only been a decade and a half, a blink of the eye for the fae.” He moved in closer and leaned on the headboard and sneered. “Unless you’re living in the queen’s dungeons.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Kian said. “You were never one of mine.”

“Ah, but I serve one who was.”

Confusion crossed Kian’s face. “You served the huntsman. The queen had him executed.”

“Now I serve his son.”

“Logan?” Kian’s sword point wavered.

“Yes, Your Highness, and while you’ve been dallying with pretty wenches he’s been lost in the oubliette.”

“He’s in the oubliette? Still?”

Solanum’s humorless laugh made Bryanna shiver. “No thanks to you, he’s been out this year, running from the queen and searching for you high and low.”

In an instant, Solanum moved from his position at the foot of the bed to Bryanna’s side. He hooked his finger in the blanket and yanked it down, spilling out her breasts. “And while I can see the pleasures this one has for a man such as yourself, I do not think Logan will understand fifteen years of abandonment while you fuck the servants.”