Dominic's Nemesis (23 page)

“Please…” The roar in her ears nearly drowned
out her own strangled plea.

Even when he retreated away, her hips kept up
their vigil…she heard a rustling and moments later her dew-soaked
drawers were sliding down her legs, his hands pausing just long
enough to strip the stockings away as well. The forgotten chemise
went next. At last, she lay naked and spread before him. Ripe for
pleasure.

He, too, was naked, Eden noted. His
magnificent form loomed over her, an olive-skinned Adonis. Taunt
rippled chest and stomach muscles shifted just under his skin as he
moved over her. His broad torso tapered to sturdy hips. Her eyes
wandered lower to the curious appendage that poked out, stiff and
ominous, from a hairy place between his tree-trunk thighs. She knew
a moment of panic. Is that what had been pulsating inside his
trousers? How had she not noticed the monstrous thing before?

The instant his hands were back on her, the
fear and the reason for it fled her mind. All she felt was clawing
desire for more of him in however form that fulfillment took. He
settled between her legs, weight shifted to one elbow…leaving one
hand free to part the lips of her hungry mouth.

“Ahh…”

Wicked was the only word she could think to
describe what he did next, wedging one of his sausage thick fingers
inside her tight mouth.

“Soon, cara, I promise.”

His voice sounded strained, painful almost…a
pain mirrored in the tight expression on his face.

“Now…” She moaned, able to stand it no
longer. “Do whatever it is,
now
.”

He eased fully over her pliant body,
unsheathed his finger and nudged her entrance with…the thing
she
’
d seen before. Time
slowed as their eyes met, his tortured by some nameless anxiety she
struggled to identify. Not fear exactly. His expression said that
they were crossing over to a new place and once passed no bridge
existed to cross back.

Eden
’
s breath hitched and then she felt it, the thing
pushing slow but relentless into her tight moist mouth. A veil of
scarlet clouded her vision and her head jerked back against the
bed…fingers tore at the counterpane. She felt a sharp, tearing pain
at the core of her body and froze, afraid that if she moved, the
damage would be worse.

“Dom, it hurts.” Her voice, small,
high-pitched.

“I know, cara, and I
’
m sorry.” She felt a tender touch to her
cheek…then her forehead, next her breast. He was kissing her,
apologizing with actions as well as words. “Forgive me, please. I
would not harm you for the world.”

When the thing in her began to retreat,
instinct overtook her and she collapsed her legs around his hips.
Her hands shot up to lock in his hair.

“No, please. It will hurt worse if you leave
me.”

“Shhh…” His soft lips touched hers,
soothing.

She hadn
’
t realized she was crying until she felt his tongue
licking at her temple to catch a falling tear. The weight of his
body sank into hers and she felt the thing nudging into her
again…this time with less effort and a burning friction that spread
deliciously to overtake the pain. Eden relaxed into the evolving
pleasure.

His kisses too evolved, from soothing to
sensual. His tongue slid unbidden into her mouth just as his
appendage slid home a third time, filling her with an edgy bliss
that radiated out from her core like ripples in a pond…leaking into
her entire consciousness.

The thing inside her was over-large, feverish
and quivering. It felt like he had shoehorned a sizzling,
straight-from-the-skillet bratwurst fully into her. Nevertheless,
the rawness of the act, heat, pulse, and jolt of sensations it set
off had her ready for another thrust.

Again and again his came into her, the
pleasure building higher, climbing towards frenzy. His hips
grinding on hers, his weight a decadent delight. Eden tangled her
fingers in his hair and down his back, urging him to continue. She
felt as though they were careening towards the edge of a precipice,
neither willing to break before they tumbled over the side.

Dominic groaned his pleasure into her mouth,
his forceful thrusts quickening with urgency. The same urgency she
sensed in herself. Her inner muscles gripped him with rhythm to
match her run-away heartbeat. Racked by a sensation so overwhelming
that her skin couldn
’
t
contain, her body writhed and twitched, the hot acid-burn of
something spewing inside her drove her over the edge…

She splintered into mindless ecstasy, the
whole spectrum of fulfillment running its course in the space of a
few moment
’
s bliss. A
hail of colorful spangles fluttered above. In her disconnected
world filled only with sensations and feelings, it took Eden a
second to realize the starburst she saw were Dominic
’
s eyes…lost in the same wondrous
place with her.

Her body felt weak, boneless and only
semi-conscious beneath a pressing weight. Hot breath at her neck,
she realized that Dominic lay on top of her…and inside of her. The
thing that had given her so much pleasure lay dormant now, its
presence warm and filling. She liked the feel of him, hot and
heavy, his luscious black hair tickling her throat and shoulder as
he turned his face and placed a light kiss against her bruised
skin.

His breath grazed her throat when he spoke.
“I want Ethan to heal these. I never want to see them again.”

She chuckled at his childish faith in his
brother
’
s medical
skills, and laid a hand atop his head to play in the soft waves.
“Dom, no doctor can heal a bruise. They will fade with time.”

“Ethan will heal them if I ask him to.”

He spoke with a certainty that struck her as
sincere. As if he had some knowledge she did not.

“How?”

When he did not immediately answer, she
assumed he wouldn
’
t.
Content, Eden did not press. He took her by surprise when he
propped himself up on his elbows and then shifted off her,
dislodging himself from her body. Eden sighed at the loss. She
didn
’
t have long to feel
abandoned. He was gone from her no more than the time it took for
him to pull back the blue-black bedspread and sheets.

“Come, before you catch a chill.”

She scrambled over to burrow beneath the
sheets. He joined her there and pulled her flush against the side
of his torso. Only when they were propped on a nest of pillows and
settled into a snug cocoon, did he speak again.

“There are more bruises than before.
Why?”

He must have noticed the lighter bruises
marring her hip and thigh. “When I fell from the tub, I banged
against the floor. At the time, it didn
’
t hurt, but later…” She let the words trailed
off.

“Hmm.”

She looked up at him, curious, but he eyes
stared out over her head, possessed by some unexpressed thought. He
didn
’
t turn his gaze
down to her, even at his next words.

“Do you remember that first day you awoke in
this room? You had a sore throat and a developing lung
congestion.”

She nodded against him. “You were over there
sitting in the window sill. I did not notice at first.”

“Ethan healed you then.”

Her rational mind protested. “The doctor gave
me a fast-acting elixir to sooth the ache and ease my airways.”

“The liquid you drank was spiced tea imported
from the Indies. An exotic expense, but necessary. Ethan is a
practiced hand at healing partially, subtly, so as not to draw
undue attention to his gift. You assumed the tea to be an elixir
because it was strong and spicy and he was a doctor administering
it in a healing setting. It helped that he did not clarify the
grave nature of your condition. The truth is, Ethan saw the
progression of the illness. You wouldn
’
t have lasted the week. Do you still think an
elixir fixed it…in the space of five minutes?”

She wasn
’
t sure how to react. Her mind writhed first with
awe, before settling at last on gratitude. At the time, all she
wanted was the peace that death could provide, but now, reminded
how sweet life could be she thanked the heavens Dominic and his
brothers saved her. Though, the way Dom explained the
doctor
’
s ruse made her
feel like a gullible idiot. Why hadn
’
t she thought to question her sudden recovery?

He seemed to read her mind without even
looking at her. “There is no need to feel foolish. Most folks want
to believe that because Ethan is a doctor he has a miracle cure for
their ailments. Even those few who don
’
t, seem content instead to attribute their recovery
to the Almighty above. Perhaps they are right to do so, who but God
could give such a gift.”

Some of her embarrassment eased knowing she
wasn
’
t the first—and
certainly not the last—to be duped. “So, he can heal anything. Your
eyes?”

“He
’
s grown strong over the years, but, no. His ability
is limited to injuries and simple illnesses. Complex problems such
as inherited conditions, mental illness and age-related
degeneration are beyond his scope.”

Fascinated, she could not help but ask,
“Consumption?”

“Yes. He is especially good with lung
infections and broken bones.”

“What about heart ailments?”

“If it were mechanical in nature, an injury
or the result of a physical malady, yes, but a heart that is
rotting from age, no. He could sooth the pain if necessary, like in
cases of rheumatism, but not fix the problem because aging is not
an illness.”

“If he can do all that then why not wipe out
influenza, malaria, and all manner of deadly diseases?”

He shifted so that he could look down into
her face. The humor lurking in his asymmetrical gaze caused her
heart to flip over. “You know, Cael asked me the same question not
so long ago. Ethan could no more wipe out influenza than he could
the common cold. His healing ability is like my astral travel. It
is draining. The more complex the problem, the more energy is
required. The more patients he heals, the more he is depleted. Not
to mention, the very idea of him having such an ability is
sacrilege. He must be careful and discrete. Even if he could
transcend all that, he cannot be everywhere at once. Influenza
passes from person to person rapidly. He would have to heal
everyone simultaneously to eradicate it.”

“Oh.” She felt silly again and knew the
instant the blush gave her away. “Yes, I see what you mean.”

“Sleep now, cara, I feel I have robbed you of
enough for one evening.”

“Not yet.” She did not want the moment to
end. This time with him was precious to her, a rare gift. Dominic
had never been so relaxed and forthcoming around her, carefree
almost. They were chatting like…lovers, true lovers who held a
genuine long-term affection for one another. She frowned at the
thought, her affection was genuine, but what of his? The question
begged to be asked, but she held back not sure if it was proper for
a lady of gentle breeding to demand declarations from a gentleman.
Of course, having surrendered her virtue to a man she
wasn
’
t married to, she
could hardly claim a close acquaintance with propriety. Still, the
question would not dislodge from her mouth. Instead, she heard
herself asking him more about his family.

“Are all your brothers…blessed with gifts
such as you and he?”

“Blessed is not the word I would use in
Stephan and Gabriel
’
s
circumstance but yes, all
except for Cael.
”

“Tell me more about your eyes. I thought
there was just a color difference, but before, the blue one
appeared…bigger.”

He nodded. “According to Ethan and Cael, my
left eye lacks proper pigmentation, which is why it is an unnatural
shade of blue when it should be grey like the right one. My left
eye also has a slow-closing pupil. Under bright light, the additive
disparity of both size and color is…freakish.”

“They’re odd, yes.” She agreed, guessing her
best course of action would not be to placate him with false
assurances but to tell him what she really thought. “But not
grotesque or freakish as you assume. Honestly, I think it all
depends on you…your expressions. When you were upset before, they
made you look vulnerable, younger. I wanted to hug you. And then
while we were…eh, ahem…they were fascinating…the way you looked at
me was flattering. But, if you were angry or shouting, I imagine it
would be a bit off-putting to look you in the eye.”

When she opened her mouth to saying something
else, he shushed her with an index finger against her lips. “May I
ask you something?”

Her brow shot up in surprise, but she smiled
letting him know she didn
’
t mind.

“Why did they name you ‘Eden
’
? Its lovely, but uncommon.”

His was an easy question to answer, and one
of her favorite stories. She remembered her parents fondly whenever
she told the miracle of her birth, particularly now when memories
were all she had left of them. “Mama and Papa always planned to
have a brood of children. Years passed, and they weren
’
t blessed with even one child.
Papa consulted with doctor after doctor, but they could find no
obvious impediment. When both mama and papa passed out of their
fourth decade they gave up hope, content in their love for each
other.”

Eden paused and looked up from toying with
his nipple to gauge his reaction, both to the story and her
playfulness. He
’
d closed
his eyes and rested his head on the pillows as he listened, much
like Stephan had done when she read to him. His hand continued to
stroke her cheek.