The Color of Twilight (2 page)

Why would he do this? Was he so bent on binding himself for eternity that he would forsake his chances at true happiness? It would destroy her to have him and then see him turn away in disgust, to live through eternity with someone who would hate her for what she was. She felt sick with the thought.

"You don't mean this,” she said, resisting her instinctual urge to struggle.

"I never break my vows,” he said accusingly.

No, he was a man of his word, in every matter. Which meant only his pride called him to her, as she knew it must be. How many times had she wished it was different, that he could love? Her own pride forbade her to ask him if it was his heart's wish. She knew it didn't matter, regardless.

He ended the dance and released her, watching her intently, as though she would dash away the instant she was free. Darcy knew his ways, knew that she had just this one chance. “I will go with you,” she said softly, meeting his eyes without guile.

He studied her a long moment and finally nodded. There was no touch of suspicion on his countenance. Darcy dared to hope that he trusted her still. She couldn't allow herself to think any differently. “My lord, I ... I must collect my purse before we go. I left it upstairs rather than trust it with the doorman."

"Very well. I will await you outside.” He was quiet a long moment and frowned at her. “Do not break my trust again."

Darcy nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and watched him go. The vice around her body eased as he disappeared from her view, and she took a calming breath. She felt sick with what she had to do, but there was no other choice. Long ago, when she was chosen above all others as the bride for the Dark Fay prince of the frozen kingdom, she'd thought it a dream come true. To have the fate of the kingdom rely on her restoring the prince's virility was something out of her most exotic fantasies, for she'd watched him from afar for years when he visited her community. Her tainted blood coming in to question never crossed her mind, but her arrival at his kingdom went unnoticed by none. And they could not forgive her impure genes.

Human ran through her veins, distant, but still there. How could impurity save them, they cried. She was dirty, unworthy. More than that, Lord Tamann had not chosen her, but rather the counsel of elders had. She was but one of six brides for six kingdoms, light and dark. For all she knew, her name had been selected from a lottery.

She was horrified. The kisses they'd shared couldn't erase what she was—the mistake they'd made—and she couldn't condemn Frost to life with a woman he didn't love. Lustful cravings waned—he would betray her with another eventually, and her heart would break. It was unfair making the decision, but she couldn't change what she felt or how she thought, be it ever so silly to others of higher thought. She had to act according to her own heart, despite the consequences.

Darcy had thought it best, then, to free them both from harm rather than blindly continue on and hope for the best. The farce could damage the already crumbling foundation of the Fay kingdom.

Now she must disappear forever. Darcy swallowed her hurt and moved through the crowd to the back of the room. A line of French doors opened into the gardens. From there, she would escape and never look back.

Darcy passed through the fogged doors into the night, shutting them softly behind her. Outside, the air was surprisingly warm. A breeze tickled through her hair, carrying with it the scent of fresh bloomed greenery. In the center of the garden, a rounded pool stood, blocked with natural granite. Streams of water shot from its center in a pattern lit by recessed lights. The edges of the garden lay in shadow, difficult to discern. She moved from the terrace onto the grass, looking for the gate.

After a few precious minutes of looking about, she spotted the wrought iron entrance, almost overgrown by new vegetation. Darcy chanced a look behind her toward the lighted doors to make sure he hadn't followed. She saw nothing, and breathed a sigh of relief. As she turned back, two hands grabbed her and hauled her against a solid wall of muscle.

Darcy shrieked in surprise and a hand covered her mouth, choking off her cry. She struggled, knowing he'd found her, not caring if she hurt him—though she knew she wouldn't.

He halted her ineffectual struggles, wrapping his arms around her until she was encased by him, unable to move for the binding arms against her back and the hard muscles before her. Some weakness stole over her at her vulnerability, at his utter control of her. She wanted to deny it, deny the sudden excitement that had her blood pounding in anticipation. His aggression enflamed her. Her thighs dampened in expectation. Her clit throbbed, awakened by his scent and her mind's wantonness.

He pressed his lips against her ear, smothering her mouth against the crook of his neck. She tasted the silk of his shirt and wished it was his skin. Beneath her, she could hear the acceleration of his heartbeat, affected as her own. Hot breath tickled the sensitive shell of her ear, birthing shivers across her skin.

"Did you think you'd get away so easily again? I'm not a fool as I once was,” he ground out, anger hot as he bit her earlobe.

Pleasurable pain scored her lobe, danced across her nerves. Darcy gasped with it, moaned as his hands found her buttocks and pulled her to her tiptoes to grind her pelvis against his erection. It was huge, painful against her cleft but so good. She felt herself soaking her slight body stocking with want. She cursed the flimsiness of her covering, wished for more barrier, for less of his heat.

He sucked her lobe, traced his tongue around the whorls of her ear, moved to her neck and lathed her as if she were a piece of candy. His hands kneaded the cheeks of her buttocks, squeezing her into him. He rubbed roughly against her cleft, urging the saturation of her arousal. Teeth scored her flesh, just to the point of pain.

Darcy shuddered, biting her lip, shaking her head. She flattened her palms on his belly, felt him suck in a sharp breath as she touched him. The muscles contracted in surprise, shaking as though he could barely control himself. She pushed more, attempting to gain distance, succeeding only in separating her chest from his own by a few inches.

He lifted his head, gazing down at her. The mask was gone, leaving her in no doubt of his intentions. He released her suddenly, and she slipped back, gasped in surprise, her balance saved only by his hands caught around her wrists. He moved them behind her back, transferred them to one mammoth hand as he traced the fingers of his free hand around her scooped neckline. He teased the edges, slipping one fingertip under it as he neared her cleavage.

Her breathing increased, panicked. He watched her steadily, moving another finger inside, gripping the fragile fabric in a lazy hold. His nails felt unbearably cool against her fevered skin, like polished metal. He tugged suddenly at the neckline. Darcy jerked in surprise, unable to break his grip on her wrists. The rip was deafening in the silence. She felt air slice against the top of one breast, knew he meant to expose her completely to his view.

He glanced down. Something skittered across his gaze. Slowly, his fingers drew feather-light across the top of one breast.

Darcy flinched, unable to hide it. He looked up at her, his eyes stormy. “Don't do this. Someone will see,” she whispered, throwing herself upon his mercy. Deep inside, she was proud she'd held on to herself this long, when all she wanted was for him to touch her, mar her flesh with his suckling mouth.

He twisted her closer, until her back arched deeply and her breasts were thrust forward, easily taken by his mouth. He rubbed a thumb against the peak of her near exposed breast. Her nipple hardened beneath his touch, ignoring her command not to respond. “Is this why you protest? I assure you, no one can. I've frosted the windows and sealed the doors with ice. Unless ... you would rather they see?"

Darcy bit her bottom lip against the sensations gamboling through her breast. She shook her head, trying to gain her voice. “You know what I meant, my lord."

"Do I? Why do you not call me by my name?"

"I have not thought of you by that name for almost a decade, my lord."

"You have not thought of me at all. Say my name,
flamier do'me saol
.”
Flame of my soul
.

Her eyes burned at the endearment. She could feel tears bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. “I can't, my lord. You cannot force me to love you."

"Then I will hear you call it in passion,” he ground out, ripping the stocking to her navel. Air on her skin shocked her. One hand delved into the torn opening, grasped one breast in a rough grip.

She gasped, closing her eyes. “I will scream."

"They can't hear you. The music is too loud,” he said with deadly coldness. Ice touched her nipple, making it pebble unbelievably hard. Touch of ice. He commanded the cold and the water. Some said he could suck the water out of any living being and control it with his magic.

Darcy shuddered, unwanted pleasure blooming between her thighs. “It's rape if you take me now."

"I'm your husband."

"It changes nothing. Worse—you take unfair advantage of your spouse."

His grip shifted to her arms. He shook her. His breath was harsh in the stillness, labored as if he'd been running. “Like you did with my trust?"

"You're scaring me,” she whispered, feeling the heat leave her, replaced by fear. She wasn't afraid he'd hurt her, not that way. These changes in him terrified her. Could she have affected him so much?

He thrust her away and growled in frustrated anger, a mournful sound that poured out from somewhere deep inside him. He turned away, his head hanging down, his shoulders shaking. “Leave me,” he said, his voice breaking.

She'd broken him. The changes she'd seen, they were real, deeper. The wound in his soul echoed in her own. How much damage had she caused? Salt stung her eyes as tears welled. She hated herself and him. Pride would destroy them both. She couldn't leave him, not now. No matter how much she wanted to cower, to run from responsibility for her actions, she could not.

"Go!” he yelled, turning around. Anger etched across his features. His black brows arched like the devil's own.

"I can't."

"You stay to torment me.” He grabbed her biceps in a punishing grip. She felt her flesh bruise and welcomed it. “Don't you know the edge you tread?"

When she made no answer, he pulled her hard against him, as if he was starved for the contact of her body. His cock dug into her belly, his fingers dug deeper. “I could hurt you and enjoy it,” he whispered harshly

Darcy rubbed her face against his neck in supplication and looked up at him. He closed his eyes as if in pain. “Stop this,” he whispered brokenly.

She knew what she had to do. Only in complete control would he purge his wounds. She had to relinquish it to him, beg that he take her, use her in any way he saw fit. To be punished would be reward. Her muscles quivered, awash with weakness at the thought.

"No, my lord,” she said, finally. She nuzzled the crook of his neck, nibbled his flesh. The birthmark that scrolled down the column of his throat tasted as pure as glacier ice, smelled of the tundra. It was his gift, and she could taste it on him, feel it in his muscles. Would that she had her own Fay gift, but her magic existed only in glamour.

"I will break you,” he said with unflinching honesty.

"Then will it so, my lord."

As if unable to control himself any longer, he tipped her back and crushed his mouth against hers. His lips bruised with coaxing force. His body melded to her own, driving her need higher. Her tongue literally ached to feel his own, to feel the suckle of his mouth, taste the darkness inside him. Darcy parted her lips beneath his onslaught, reveled as his tongue thrust into her mouth, delving her crevices like a man starved. His body shuddered, his grip tightened as he tasted her. His chest rose and fell with heaving breaths as he devoured her.

Darcy moaned into the kiss, moving against him. She was desperate to fill him, touch his markings, know the feel of his cock deep inside her. She wanted him to dominate her, bend her to his will. She wanted to relinquish control.

He broke away from her mouth suddenly as if reading her thoughts. His eyes were dark with desire, like a storm on the edge of twilight. He released her only enough to shove his hand in the rip at her navel, down to her cunt. Darcy clenched at the sudden move, too shocked to do anything but feel his rough fingers play in her swollen folds, tease her slit. She groaned, jerking as his thumb rasped her clit. It perked with the touch, blood rushing from her head to that wet spot, leaving her dizzy with lust.

"Say you want me,
flamier
,” he said, his voice a baritone so deep, she felt it vibrate in the muscles of her pussy. Fire licked her nerves as he roughly forced her legs apart, ripping her costume until it bared her cleft to him, leaving her vulnerable.

"I want you,” she said, resisting the impulse to whimper, to beg him to cease his torture and fill her with his cock.

He teased the opening of her vagina, smoothed the cream of her arousal through her folds, pushing inside her just enough her muscles quivered in response. “Do you hurt for me?” he whispered against her neck, nipping her flesh with his teeth.

She whimpered to feel his lips near her ear, to have his fingers so close, teasing her with the soft edges of pleasure. “Yes, my lord."

He plunged two fingers deep inside her. Darcy screamed, coming onto the tips of her toes. A desperate plea erupted from her throat as her body convulsed around the drive of his fingers. “You are so hot. Your fire burns me,” he growled huskily. He retreated before she could climax, removing his fingers from her depths, ignoring her silent plead for him to continue.

"Sit. Here,” Frost commanded, gesturing toward the edge of the pool. “Close your eyes. Do not open them until I give my permission. Do not speak unless spoken to."

She did his bidding, sat on the lip of the fountain, closed her eyes. The stone felt cool against her bottom, seeped into her heated flesh. Excitement surged through her, made her breasts heave with each ragged breath. Anticipation heightened her senses. Her nipples throbbed with want, her ears perked for the slightest sound.