Tempt Me with Darkness

Page 38

She closed her eyes against a dizzy rush. Damn, she was going to have to reach out to him soon. Maybe tomorrow. She just couldn’t endure his dutiful touch—not when she wanted his heart too. As a child, she would have been grateful for her mother’s embrace, whatever the reason. Now she knew that touch without affection hurt all the way down to her soul.
Another dizzy wave assailed her. She dug her fists into the sheets. Suddenly, Marrok was poised over her, hard thighs spreading hers wide.
“You need me and you did not say so,” he chided as soft hands soothed her face. “Come to me when you need, anytime you need. I will care for you.”
Such tenderness. Please let it be real.
Olivia closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears shimmering there. “I’m fine.”
“You are lying.”
He smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her in gentle atonement. Her emotions were up, down, inside out. She wished she had the courage to ask if he actually cared about her, but wasn’t in a hurry to break her own heart.
Instead, she asked with her kiss, nudging his lips apart with her own. Marrok grunted in surprise, then barged in and settled deep, as if he planned to stay all night. Long, languorous slides of his tongue, soft brushes of his lips, a melding of breaths and mouths and needs.
Something was different. He’d always been gentle, even tender, that one time in the hall aside. This…She couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Olivia,” he murmured softly. “I have been busy, and we have been at odds of late. I dislike that.”
She hated it too, along with the feeling that she’d left her heart exposed, and he could either embrace or trample it as he pleased. But that didn’t stop her from responding when he again sank deep into her mouth with a soft kiss, spreading the sizzle of pleasure throughout her.
“If I am cynical or have hurt you, forgive me.”
He could never apologize for what hurt her most: not loving her. Nor should he. The foolishness had all been hers. Olivia had known better than to fall in love with a man whose heart had been untouched for a millennium and a half. She wasn’t lovable or a beauty—even if she felt that way in his arms.
Instead, Marrok had apologized for the fact he could not be swayed from suspecting her father. And Olivia couldn’t bear the thought that he was right.
Even if she let go of her anger now, a confrontation about her father or her le Fay blood was bound to come up again. Maybe they were just doomed to be at odds.
She’d barely finished that thought when Marrok kissed her so sweetly, her toes curled. Her belly tightened with heat. Maybe their end was near, but right now she could melt into him, take another memory.
Long, slow strokes of his tongue imitated what he would do to her body. The fire blazed between her thighs; Olivia surrendered. He wended his way down her body, pushing up her T-shirt until he stripped it off, then tossed it onto the floor. As soon as her torso was bare, he latched on to her sensitive nipples, one after the other. She hissed in a breath and grabbed his hair, hanging on while sensations roiled inside her.
Down lower, his hands went, divesting her of her panties A tug and a rip, and they were gone.
His hand covered her mound, then thoroughly explored her every crevice and fold. She gasped and nearly climbed out of her skin as need burned. She grew slick. Marrok murmured his approval. Stupid or not, she wanted him, even if this meant nothing to him.
Almost there…So incredibly close she could weep. But he was clever and patient, dancing away from her sensitive spots, allowing her to cool down before he revved her up again.
Then she was begging. The words fell out of her mouth, and she didn’t care how they sounded. She wanted him inside her. She needed him. Now.
His expression ranged from possessive to determined when he took her in one controlled thrust. Pleasure spiraled instantly, sending her over the edge, into a morass of sensation that nearly drowned her. But he wasn’t done.
Marrok held her firmly, thighs wide. Deep, measured thrusts came one after the other. Suddenly, the pleasure was ramping up again. Pleas rolled off her tongue as he overwhelmed her with ecstasy, even as she forced herself to bottle up her words of love.
Abruptly, he withdrew, flipped her over, and lifted her to her hands and knees. Before she could say anything, Marrok was back inside her, sinking deep, his chest draping her back, his fingers driving her wild. In this position, she felt every vein and ridge of his sex. The friction of every thrust enflamed her even more.
“Come for me again,” he growled. “We will release together.”
His hot breath hit her neck, sending shivers down her back that blended with the tingles he generated. Sensations converged in her belly, sliding down her legs. Pressure built, then a huge explosion rendered her breathless. Her vision faded for a moment. She sank to the bed in a heap as Marrok pumped inside her once more, then shouted her name in a cry of ecstasy.
His arms gave out, and he covered her body with his. “God, woman. What you do to me…”
Olivia resisted the urge to cry. The pleasure was amazing, but more and more, she didn’t care about energy. She cared about his feelings, about having his love. But yearning for a man who had loved no one for fifteen centuries was hopeless.
She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. He wanted to be uncursed and he wanted to die. For that, he needed her. She had pledged to help Marrok end his misery and didn’t want the man she loved to suffer or be unhappy. If the curse was broken, his torment would be over.
But her own would just begin.
Marrok withdrew and padded to the bathroom. The door closed, then water ran from the sink. Olivia sank into the bed and sobbed. God, why hadn’t she listened to her own warning before her feelings deepened? Because she’d wanted and needed him so badly.
Chirp, chirp.
The odd sound came from directly above her. She opened her eyes to the sight of a little white bird. Freaky. How did a bird get into the room?
“Olivia.”
Now it was talking. In her father’s voice. Even freakier.
“Yes.”
“Quick! I’m outside. Can you invite me in? I’ve got something to share with you that will help Marrok. I want you to know you can trust me.”
She glanced at the closed bathroom door. The shower began to run. And her father was outside, waiting to show her something that would prove that her faith in him hadn’t been misplaced. Still, she must be careful.
“I don’t have the power to invite you in.”
“I understand. I’m just outside. This will only take a moment.”
Tossing on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she crept downstairs and, at the front door, hesitated. But if her father had something that would help Marrok, she couldn’t just stay here and hide.
Opening the door, Olivia saw Richard Gray in the distance, breathing hard, as if the hounds of hell had been chasing him. Cautiously, she drew near, comforted that help was likely just a scream away if she needed it.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “Are you alone?”
He was jumpy, jittery. What had gotten into him?
“Yes.” She rubbed her hands over her suddenly chilled arms.
“Look!”
As he extracted something from the pocket of his slacks, Olivia leaned in to glimpse the glinting thing in the moonlight.
The other half of the key!
Ruby-encrusted, this half was shaped most like an M. And suddenly, Olivia understood the symbol on the front of the diary. ML overlapping—Morganna le Fay.
“How…I thought Mathias had this? What did you do?”
“I stole it back.” His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I waited until I knew most of the Anarki would be gone and snuck in. I knew where Mathias once hid it. I feared he had moved it, but no!”
“You know where Mathias’s lair is?”
He nodded. “It hadn’t changed and he hadn’t put protections up against me.”
“Where was Mathias while you took the emblem?”
“I don’t know. I simply snatched it from its hiding place and ran.”
Olivia didn’t know what to say. “That was incredibly risky. Were you seen? Did they chase you?”
“No problems at all. I’d planned it for some days now, knowing how badly we need this piece. I couldn’t let you down. I want to prove that you can trust me. I want Marrok to know it, as well.”
Richard suddenly enveloped her in a big hug. Wrapped in his embrace, her heart stuttered with something bittersweet. He cared about her, her happiness. With his arms wrapped around her, she felt his acceptance. Yet…she no longer wanted it the way she craved Marrok’s.
When he pulled away, she smiled. “You risked so much, but now we can do anything.”
“Exactly. Now, what do you say we get the diary open and end your mate’s curse?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“YOU KNOW HOW to end his curse?” Olivia asked.
“I believe so. Bring me the book and your half of the key. We’ll do it together.”
Marrok’s warnings about her father whipped through her mind. As much as she wanted to believe the best, the man was a relative stranger. What she’d read in the history books reassured her. He’d realized his mistakes and turned against Mathias at great personal risk. And her father had tried to show he cared, despite Marrok’s interference, since their first meeting.
Her father, with his le Fay roots and knowledge of the Doomsday Diary, could make Marrok’s freedom a reality. Even if pain wrenched her heart at the thought of spending the rest of her life without him.
“Olivia, don’t frown. This is cause for joy!”
Marrok would be happier finally leaving this life. And if the man didn’t love her, she was better off without him. It just didn’t feel that way now. She’d be alone again, since her father would still be running from the Anarki. But she was stronger now. Knowing she had been more than a burden to one of her parents and that she had helped Marrok achieve his deepest wish would sustain her in the coming years.
Pasting on a plastic smile, she nodded. “I’ll go get Marrok.”
She darted up the stairs, then slowed as she approached their bedroom door and pushed it wide.
Marrok stood tall, damp from his shower. Her breath caught.
He looked so vital. His Roman nose cast a bold statement above sensual lips, edged by his goatee and sun-bronzed skin. His body rippled after spending all day training wizards he didn’t like, so they would be victorious against the villain who would do anything to acquire her and the diary.
Long black lashes framed blue eyes smudged with purplish dark circles. Moonlight shadows fanned down his slash of a cheek. The man needed rest, and if all went well tonight, he’d have it—eternally.
She wished she had the courage to tell him that she loved him. But he probably didn’t care about his enemy’s great-great granddaughter, beyond using her to get free from his hex and getting an occasional lay. All his caring and seeming tenderness had been to keep the person he needed to help break his curse happy. Blurting it out would only put him on the spot.
He wasn’t trying to stay in this life; he’d told her almost from the beginning that he was trying to leave it. Which meant he would leave her.
Fighting the prickling of tears that stabbed her eyes, Olivia retrieved her half of the diary’s key from the pocket of the jeans she’d been wearing earlier and slung it around her neck. Dread multiplied in her gut.
“What are you doing?” He watched her every move.
“My father is outside. He has the means to open the diary and end your curse.”
Marrok froze. “He told you that?”
“I know you don’t trust him, but he’s put himself at great personal risk to help you.”
“Have you asked yourself why he would do such a thing?”
She hesitated. “Because you’re my mate. I’m his daughter.”
“That latter fact meant precious little to him for twenty-three years. The only reason to free me of this curse is to end my need for the diary. After which he assumes I shall give it to him. And what do you imagine he plans to do with it?”
That thought had actually crossed her mind, but Marrok’s tart tone intimated something more sinister than keeping it out of Mathias’s reach. “It belongs in our family, and I don’t believe he’s any fan of the Anarki anymore. Maybe he wants to hide it or destroy it. Ask him.”
“Of course, he will tell me naught but the truth.”
Frustration welled inside her, its level rising, resting on the trigger of her temper. “If you want to end this curse, you’re going to have to talk to him. What can that hurt?”
“Olivia, neither of us are experts on magic. We know not what your father is capable of or if he has chosen to stand with Mathias.”
“I read the books that Sabelle gave me. He chose good and right. I know a little something about magic—”
“Based on a spell book of basic magic. What your father and Mathias can do will be extraordinary.” He caressed her shoulder. “Love, it’s not my wish to crush your faith in him, but we must be cautious.”