Temptation, Chronicles of the Fallen, Book 3 (13 page)

Chapter Eleven

Stunned silence filled the room.

“There,” she said, clearly exasperated. “You see?”

The shock of feeling her skin—her solid, warm flesh—actually touching him nearly sent Gideon into shock. His head swam. His heart raced so hard, he feared he might pass out and wake up to realize this was all nothing more than a dream. She was really, truly touching him. Not ghosting a hand through him.

Touching me!

Afraid to believe. Afraid to hope. Thoughts of keys and Oblivion were forgotten in his stunned state. His hands shook as he reached for her. He gripped her shoulders. Firm. Substantial. There.

Oh my God!

He couldn’t catch his breath. Couldn’t think. He was going to hyperventilate. She lifted her other hand so she was holding his face, frowning up at him. He was vaguely aware of Carly’s soft gasp, of Niklas’s surprised exclamation.

But the only thing that mattered was the woman he could finally lay hands on. He gazed at her in wide-eyed amazement. In sheer abandoned awe.

“I can touch you!” he whispered.

Without giving it a second thought, Gideon swooped her up in a bone-jarring embrace and seized her lips with his. Gentle was the last thing on his mind. He still couldn’t believe he was actually touching her, could scarce wrap his mind around the fact. But then she began to respond, going soft and willing in his arms, and his body took over, not caring whether or not his mind believed.

The texture of her lips was soft, supple and warm. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. It wasn’t nearly close enough, so Gideon crushed her tighter to him. Her belly cradled his painfully hard shaft. She parted her thighs willingly when he pushed his knee between them.

He couldn’t stop moving his hands, greedy for every last sensation, fearful that this might be the only chance he had to feel. Every sensation, every texture, he marveled over. The delicate skin of her neck, the friction of his fingers rubbing over the cotton of her T-shirt. The way the softness of her worn blue jeans molded to her waist and hips. The taut muscles of her pert ass fit perfectly in his hands.

Growling low in his throat, he flexed his fingers, rubbing his hands over her in bliss before firming his grip and hiking her up higher to fit his erection more snugly in the cradle of her thighs.

A soft giggle, a male chuckle sounded from somewhere behind him. He couldn’t have cared less. Maggie was in his arms at last. He was holding her. He was touching her. He was kissing her. And she was kissing him right back with wild abandon. The house could have burned down around his ears, and he wouldn’t have been able to stop what he was doing.

A whisper of sound, and then Niklas’s energy disappeared. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that Carly and Niklas were both gone. He’d thank them later for their discretion. Much later. Right now, kissing and touching were the only things on his radar. He tore his mouth from Maggie’s, desperate to sample every inch of her before this moment was snatched from him. His lips and tongue lavished attention across the bottom of her jaw and down the side of her neck. Desperate, he gripped the collar of her T-shirt and pulled it out of the way. He then proceeded to nibble and nip his way across her collarbone.

Delectable. He couldn’t get enough. One hand went to the hem of her shirt, tugging it up insistently. He’d never been so eager for anything in his long, long life. He wanted to feel and taste her. Wanted to lay claim to her. Wanted to bring her to peak after peak, until she screamed his name in abandon, mindless and addicted to his touch, as he was addicted to touching her already.

He cupped her generous breast, and he devoured his way back up the side of her throat. He groaned in appreciation. So damned perfect he could have wept for joy.

The sound seemed to startle her, and she began to stiffen in his arms. At first, he ignored it, sure with a little extra persuasion she’d come around. And so he pressed his hips more firmly against her, rubbing his erection into the vee of her thighs. A tiny moan escaped her, and he grinned against her skin.

But when he tried to capture her lips again, she turned away, pushing at his shoulders now.

For a man—for a demon—denied physical contact, denied carnal contact, for what felt like an eternity, stopping now required nearly more control than he was capable of. Chest heaving, heart racing, he pulled back, but only slightly. He couldn’t bear to let her go. The fear that he wouldn’t be able to touch her again was too terrifying.

“What? What!”

“Slow down,” she gasped. “Just…I need a second here.”

She wiggled until he set her back on her feet. But he refused to relinquish her waist. Somebody would have to kill him before he let go completely.

She glanced around the room. “Where did they…”

“Gone. It’s just us now, Maggie.” His chest heaved as he fought to slow his breathing.

“Gideon, I have to understand this,” she said, pushing gently at him, but he refused to be dislodged.

Shaking her head, she relented and rested her hands upon his chest. The feel of those small hands, the warmth, the weight of them sent pleasure coursing through his veins. His lips throbbed from kissing her. He’d never felt such a wondrous thing.

“You really couldn’t touch anyone before this, could you?” Disbelief warred with baffled confusion.

“No.”

“So I’m the first woman you’ve been able to…to touch?”

He licked his lips, his gaze sliding eagerly to her mouth. “Yes.”

Her brow puckered. Reaching up, he smoothed the pad of his thumb across the creases, the way he’d seen Xander do to Kyanna a hundred times. Her skin was smooth here as well, soft. Pleasant was too weak of a word to describe the feeling, but he couldn’t think well enough just now to come up with a better one.

Shaking her head to dislodge his hand, she pushed harder until she finally succeeded in breaking his hold.

The moment he lost contact, anxiety swamped him. As a man drowning might, he gulped for air. His vision blurred. Instinct made him reach out, made him grab for her. The moment their hands connected, and his didn’t ghost right through hers, he was able to take another breath.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, still caught up in the shock. “I…I just can’t let you go right now. I can’t stop touching you. I need…I have to—”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. Careful not to break the connection of their hands, she took a careful step back. That space was uncomfortable for him to maintain, but he forced himself to stand still and not follow her.

Her chin dipped, and a frown tugged her lips down. Gideon reached for her face, then out of habit, he hesitated. But that hesitation lasted only a moment before he tenderly cupped her cheek in his hand and lifted her face to his. It took major effort on his part not to get lost in the creamy perfection of her skin. He searched her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I understand now,” she began slowly, her voice hesitant. Uncertain. “I really do. I understand why you were the way you were before. And I can appreciate what you must be feeling right now.” She paused, cleared her throat, and pressed on. But as she did so, her gaze slid sideways, as if what she was about to say embarrassed her. “But I think we both need to slow down. Think this through before things go too far. A lot’s happened tonight. And we both need to, um, decompress.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. A slap to the face. Despite his need to touch her, he could feel her pulling away, at least mentally. A part of him, in that moment, was angry with her for putting distance between them, for relegating him back to the land of the cursed. Another part of him took up her argument. She had been through a lot. She’d watched him turn into the monster. And that monster had damned near killed her. She was probably afraid of him. Probably scared to push him.

Letting go of her hand was one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life. But he did it. For her. Putting more space between them.

“You’re right. You should get some rest.”

She stared up at him, frowning, shaking her head. She reached for him once more, but this time he was the one to stiffen and pull away.

“But you said we’d train today—”

“I think you’ve had enough
training
for one day. After all, not many have seen a demon battle up close and personal and lived to tell the tale.”

“Gideon—”

“No more today,” he insisted, cutting her off. He was drained. He couldn’t imagine what she must be feeling. She didn’t have to worry that he would back out on his promise or change his mind. What happened today only proved she needed to know how to defend herself.

“I’ll take you upstairs. You need to rest and I don’t know if shimmering you back to the plantation is safe for you yet or not with how badly you were…injured. So, for the time being, we’ll hang out here. Sebastian has ward stones in place, and Kyanna has reinforced them with spells. You’re as safe here as you would be at the plantation, all things considered.”

“What do you mean, all things considered?”

“Well, as safe as you can be with a monster just down the hall.” He chuckled, but his voice, and his laugh, held no humor.

Before she could comment further, he dropped his old, familiar shields back in place and skirted around her, vigilant not to even let their hands so much as brush. Not touching her, now that he knew he could, was damned near killing him. He thought he’d been tortured before—that was nothing compared to this. The taste of forbidden fruit had been so sweet. And now that it was out of his reach once more, it was all the more temptation.

“This way,” he called over his shoulder as he led her through the living room, past Sebastian’s den, toward the staircase on the far wall. He strode up the stairs and down the long hallway, past the room Niklas usually used whenever he stayed at the farm, past Xander’s room. He came to a stop beside the door at the end of the hall.

“You can sleep here,” he said, reaching out to turn the doorknob.

She glanced through the doorway, then arched her brow at him after taking in the décor. “This is your room, isn’t it?”

He nodded.

“I can sleep someplace else. You shouldn’t have to give up your bed yet again for me.”

The thought of her sleeping in someone else’s bed nearly sent him into a rage.
His
sheets would cover her.
His
scent would linger on her skin. No one else’s. Even if he couldn’t put it there personally.

“You’ll sleep here,” he commanded before turning to stalk away.

“Wait,” she called and grabbed his wrist. The sensation of her touch made him gasp and she immediately—to his dismay—let go. “Look, I, ah…I just wanted to say thank you. For earlier.”

“For what? For not checking your house, for not taking basic precautions before I let you go back? For almost getting you killed? Or for nearly killing you myself?”

Her lips tightened for a moment. “For agreeing to train me. For being willing to teach me what I need to know to survive.”

“Yeah, I’m doing a real bang-up job there. Damned near as good as your father, huh?”

“Gideon!” She reached out to touch him, only to pull back at the last minute when he stiffened once more. He snorted in self-disgust, furious with both of them now, and turned to walk away once more.

“Damn it! Stop!”

Gideon halted in his tracks once again, torturing himself with the hope that she might touch him, just one more time. He slowly turned to face her.

“I just don’t like the whole last-woman-on-earth thing, you know?”

Frowning, he shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.

She looked as if she’d like to find a hole to crawl into. “You’ve saved me—”

Now he did snort derisively. “I didn’t save you. I nearly killed you. Mikhail saved you.”

“Oh, will you shut up!” Clearly frustrated, she raked her hands through her hair. “You have saved me, before. That night at the club? From those three demons? And if Niklas and Mikhail hadn’t shown up at my place, I truly believe you would have calmed down and changed back. You were so close already, before they came.” He made a sound of disbelief, but she ignored him and trudged on. “I just wanted to let you know that I understand, and I won’t push.”

It was her turn to walk away. But he caught the glint of perceived rejection, the sad frown, and his hand shot out of its own volition. He grabbed her.

“You understand what exactly?”

“Oh God, why are you making me say this!” Maggie was angry now. She made a fist of her hand and gave it a good tug, but she couldn’t break his hold. “I get it, all right. You’re not interested, now that the shock and the heat of the moment have had time to wear off. Believe me, I’m not all that hot to be swept off my feet just because I’m the last girl standing, so to speak. I mean, how flattering is that?” She lowered her voice to mimic him. She even affected a mocking southern drawl. “‘Hey, darlin’, you’re the only girl I’ve been able to touch since before the time of the dinosaur. Wanna get lucky?’”

“You think I’m older than dinosaurs?”

“Compared to me, you’re a fossil,” she said. A spark of anger flickered in her beautiful eyes. Anger and unmistakable hurt. “You know, just once, I’d like to factor. Me. Just for myself. Just once I’d like to actually be important to someone. Not because my job and my reputation would complement someone’s idea of what they believe their life should be like.

“And not because of who my father was. Not because of my bloodlines or some stupid visions I might or might not have. Not because of some damned
destiny
that sucks, by the way. I mean, come on. Boil it all down, and look what I’ve got. I’ve basically been relegated to be a brood mare for some demon bent on conquering the world. Oh, please, sign me up,” she snapped.

Shaking her head, she turned to walk away, apparently forgetting he was still in possession of her wrist. He jerked her back. She collided with his chest and gasped aloud.

“Is that what you think?” he demanded, incredulous. “That I see you like that, and nothing more? Or that I’m only interested in you because I can touch someone now?”