A Kiss of Magic: A Kiss of Magic Book One (15 page)

Dendri drew a fresh sheet of vellum from a small stack in the corner of the desk. He dipped his quill and began to write out a hasty note. Yasra watched as a swift, slanted script filled the page, the hand well suited to him. It was neat and elegant, without being florid or overly ornate. He dusted the letter and folded it. He warmed sealing wax while he wrote a second letter and folded it as well. Then he dolloped wax on the seam of the note and used a heavy silver seal to press the wax. It left behind the image of a lion’s head, its mane a ring of fire.

He rang the bell and Tudman was there almost instantly.

“Tudman, see these are delivered immediately into the hands of the addressees. Not their servants…directly into their hands. Make it as soon as possible. I will be awaiting replies and am not of a mind to be patient today.”

“Of course, my lord. I will see it done immediately.”

The manservant took the letters and moved out of the room. Dendri then looked at her, his eyes roaming over her intently. His gaze lingered at her breasts and then her hips. It was a slight hesitation, but she was made highly aware of it. It wasn’t the first time he had looked at her like that.

With hunger in his eyes.

“You are being very brave,” he said after a moment of looking his fill of her. “I admire you for it.”

“I don’t feel brave. I feel cowardly and afraid.”

“To take action in the face of our fears is the very definition of bravery,” he said, moving over to her. She could smell him as he stirred the air between them. He smelled of soapwood and musk, richly male and appealing. She found herself breathing deeply, bringing him into her lungs and into her body.

“It doesn’t feel that way,” she whispered.

He closed the remaining distance between them, his tall, strong body coming to rest against her softer one. She couldn’t help but take note of how well they fit together. In spite of his height and the breadth of his shoulders and chest, they simply seemed to fit together.

“Yasra,” he murmured as his fingers went to her face, drifting back over the shell of her ear as his thumb tipped her chin up. He made her look at him. “Do not sell yourself short. I feel you are constantly underestimating yourself. You are capable of so much. I only wish you would trust that. Trust in yourself.”

“I just don’t trust the majic in myself. I’ve been fine with my life until now. Sure, there were heartaches and troubles, but I was more comfortable when I thought I was a non than I am now being part of this Gestalt.”

“How can I make you more comfortable?” he asked, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw, his fingertips nestled in her hair. His free hand curved around her waist, drawing her in until she was held securely against him.

“How can I be comfortable,” she whispered, “when every time you get close to me you send my world tumbling off its axis.”

He smiled at that, his lips picking up at one corner and his dark green eyes filling with amusement.

“It is good to know I have such an effect on you,” he said, his mouth dipping down briefly to stroke his lips against hers ever so briefly. “It’s good to know I am not alone in my feelings of wild disarray.”

“You…you feel the same way?” she asked, surprised by the confession.

“Of course I do. Do you think something like this happens to me every day?”

“Not the Gestalt, but…as far as…um…other things…how am I to know what you are used to?”

“Other things?” He smiled again and dipped his head into a firmer brush of lips to hers. “Do you mean this incredible, ravenous desire between us, Yasra?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“No, Yasra, I am not used to this at all,” he assured her right before her swept her mouth up against his and seared his kiss onto her lips. He pressed his advantage immediately once he felt her relax beneath his lips. He kissed her with undeniable hunger, devouring her mouth, tasting her with his tongue. She could barely breathe, that was how overwhelming he was. But she let herself be swept away this time, let him pull her in tighter and delve for her response. It wasn’t long before passivity became impossible for her. She reached up, her fingers threading into his silky hair at the back of his head, holding him to her as she began to aggress in the kiss. He tasted so good on her tongue, like coffee and cream. Her head began to spin as he slid his hand up from her waist, following the curve of her back. She felt him tracing a path of flames with his touch as his hand slid around to the front of her body and his fingertips slid into the underside crease of her breast.

He broke from her mouth and they were both panting hard for breath, their breaths mingling between them.

“I want you. Now. Completely,” he said heatedly. There was such intensity in his words that it sent a hot thrill through her.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Then he was sweeping her up into his arms and striding down the hallways with her. They reached his room within heartbeats, it seemed, and then he was kicking the door closed and lowering her down onto the bed.

Dendri took a moment to stand back and look at her. Look at her in his bed. He had wanted her there for so long it seemed. Had it really only been a few days? It felt like longer. He had envisioned her like this many times already.

Actually, not like this. In his visions she had been naked, her hair tumbling all about her.

He reached down and took her foot in his hand. He slowly untied her boot, unthreading the laces until he could slide it off her foot. As he dropped that boot to the floor and reached for the next, he was aware of how hard she was breathing. The sound of it filled the room.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he soothed her, massaging her calf with one hand as he removed her boot with the other. It joined the other on the floor with a thud.

He knelt one knee on the bed, his hand trailing up her leg on the outside. The smooth material of her breeches slid beneath his fingertips. He then reached her blouse where it was tucked in at her waist and began to pull the gathered material free. As soon as he was able, he slid his hand beneath her top and drifted his touch over the flat softness of her belly. Good god she felt good. Powder soft and warm to the touch. He was hungry for even the slightest contact with her bare skin, and it showed in the increasing feverishness of his touch.

“God…the feel of you…it drives me to distraction,” he said. He was shocked by the guttural sound of his own voice. But why should he be he asked himself? Why should it shock him how much he wanted her?

Because he had never known anything like it before, he answered. He had had sexual relations with many women, had been tempted by their bodies and their wiles, but never had it been like this. This all-consuming hunger and intensity. It should have worried him, but it did not. He threw himself into the sensations, into the cravings. He devoured her with all of his senses, from sight to touch to the sweet sensual smell of her. He heard her gasp in a soft breath as his fingers slid up her belly and embraced her breast.

She was a warm, lush weight in his hand, his fingertips brushing over her nipple, back and forth until it puckered and distended into a hard little point. He groaned at the responsiveness, yearned to put his mouth on her. To that end he grasped her blouse, yanking it the rest of the way free of her waistband, and then stripped it over her head. Then he paused, looking down at her, remembering how beautiful he had thought she was ever since he’d first seen her naked. Not in their sex majic. Sex majic always reflected the perceptions people had of themselves. No…it had been when she had come to his bath, the beautiful lines of her sweet body so lush and shy.

She had nipples the color of a combination of tan and pink. Hovering somehow between the two colors. Now that she was exposed to the slightly chilly air both nipples puckered up tight.

“I want to have you on my tongue in every possible way,” he said hotly.

And he meant it. Every possible way. And he would see to it that he did before he was through with her.

His words sent fire racing through Yasra’s blood vessels. It burned her from the inside out, the way he was looking at her. Half of his chocolate colored hair had escaped the tie at the back of his neck by then, the long strands framing his handsome visage as he stared down at her. Then he lowered his head and, direct as you please, he caught her nipple between his teeth and then sucked it into his mouth.

Yasra gasped at the hot, wet scorching of his tongue. Of the way he drew on her as if he were starved for her. His hands were not idle, one coming up to embrace her opposite breast and the other sliding down between her bottom and the bedclothes. He gripped at her, almost desperately, and it made her feel more wanted then she had ever felt in her life. This was nothing like the fumblings and gropings of her only previous lover, his selfishness leaving her wanting. She was only just beginning with Dendri and already she was more satisfied then ever she had felt with…she couldn’t even remember his name right then. And that was just as well. He had no place in her thoughts. Deserved no recognition.

Dendri released her nipple slowly with a wet scraping of his teeth. Then he switched to the opposite breast and danced attendance on it as well. Her hands dove into his hair, freeing it completely of the clasp at the back of his neck, tossing the tie aside somewhere and reveling in the silky feel of his long locks. She half held him to his task, half massaged his scalp just so her hands could feel the heat of it. Her hands drifted down the back of his strong, taut neck and on to the width of his capable shoulders.

All this while he had remained on his knees above her, keeping his weight off of her yearning body. But now she tried to pull him down. She was craving the feel of him against her.

“Wait,” he murmured against her breast. Then he pulled back and she could see the fierce fire of desire in his forest green eyes. The appetite within them was stark and breathtaking.

He reached for his coat, shrugging it back off his shoulders. He was always so impeccably dressed. A perfectly dressed gentleman. Watching the layers of his civilization get peeled off of him, she felt an undeniable hunger building inside of her. He slipped off his waistcoat next. He put both garments over the footboard of the bed and then, after whipping off his cravat, he began on his shirt, yanking it free of his waistband. He loosened the ties at his wrists and his throat and grabbed the back of his collar and pulled it off of his back and over his head. That immediately afforded her an unimpeded view of his broad and spectacular torso, the muscles strapped to it a thing of sheer masculine beauty. She wondered what it was he did to keep himself in such ready physical condition. Did he fence like many aristocrat males did? Or did he wrestle or box like the more middle classes did? Perhaps he was an equestrian? Oh, the possibilities were endless…and unimportant. At least they were right then.

“You’re beautiful,” she breathed as her hands went to his chest. There was only the lightest of hairs on his chest and she traced her fingers through it. He smiled at her compliment, amusement lightening his otherwise dark eyes.

“A sentiment I wholly reciprocate,” he said as he took a moment to run both of his hands up her belly and chest, embracing both of her breasts briefly before switching direction and trailing his fingers to the laces of her breeches. She followed suit and began to loosen his as well. She could feel the heat of him radiating through the fabric and into her hands, she could feel the hard line of flesh her fingertips brushed over. He was heavily aroused, his body making no mystery of it. She paused in her actions to press her hand to him, making out the shape of him through the fabric of his trousers.

There was a hitch in his actions as he groaned and thrust his hips into her hands. Encouraged, she fondled him more blatantly between his legs.

“Enough!” he barked suddenly. He launched himself off of her, grabbing hold of the waist of her pants as he did so, shucking them down her legs. Then he reached to do the same with her drawers.

She was naked now and he just stood there looking at her until she began to feel self-conscious. Her body turned to shy away, but he would have none of it.

“No. I have waited long enough to have you naked in my bed…I will take the time to enjoy you.”

He stroked her skin slowly, brushing his touch up her thighs, his fingers raking through the curls protecting her sex. Instead of lingering there he continued upward, touching her everywhere between there and her shoulders. When he came close enough she reached to touch his waistband again.

“So impatient,” he scolded her when she went to get a better feel of him. He caught her wrist and pressed it to the bed. “Very well. If you won’t give me time to enjoy you, we’ll do this your way.”

He stood back again and stripped out of his pants. His short drawers followed quickly and then he was standing fully, gloriously naked before her. Her eyes roamed the entirety of him and he let her look her fill. Then her gaze fixed on the part of him that thrust out from his body, hard and high, eager to meet with her.

“You see? You see how you affect me?” he asked heatedly. “Good God, I haven’t felt this randy since I was a young boy first learning my way around women.”

“It’s hard to imagine you young,” she said.

“Young and unsure, but a very eager pupil I assure you.”

She chuckled. “I can believe that. But I can’t put an image of you not being confident in my mind.”