Heart of Darkness (21 page)

Isabeau could remember hearing her mama's
friends complaining about their husband's demands for conjugal
rights. If this was how it felt, so wonderfully relaxing and
providing this sensation that she could only class as something
akin to the cat that ate the cream, then why on Earth would the
women themselves not be demanding it?

She willingly spread her legs as his hands
urged her to do so and when he moved between them and she felt his
hips rest against hers, only this time, without the secure barrier
of her dress between them, she had to admit to beginning to feel
slightly nervous. The thing between his legs was rather large but,
she felt better when it slid against her slick flesh and dragged
pleasure from her once-sated body.

“Where does the moisture come from?” she
asked breathily, licking her lips as he continued to stroke her
down there with his...she urged her memory to recall what one of
her many life-worn friends had called her husband’s thing...ah,
that was it, his cock.

“It is mother nature's way of ensuring your
pleasure, Beau,” he murmured roughly.

She groaned at two things. The tip of his
cock rubbed that strange, yet wonderful place which seemed to be at
the center of her pleasure.

Then she moaned at his use of her nickname.
Only her mama and papa had called her that and it seemed right that
Wolfe should too. “And what is that spot?” she asked
breathlessly.

“That is your clit. An area of extreme
pleasure,” he said, biting off a groan when she ground herself
against his cockhead.

“You make it feel so good,” she murmured,
catching his eyes with her own and feeling drunk off the lust she
found in his gaze.

“It may hurt at first, Beau. But I shall
pleasure you, I promise you.”

Her hips arched upwards as he continued to
prod her there and she felt her stomach undulating as it awaited
something but her mind didn't know what. Her body knew though. Even
in its ignorance, it was born for this and it waited for its future
with bated breath. Suddenly, his fingers were there again and they
were, somehow, inside her. He curled them against her, stroking and
stretching her tight channel in preparation for his invasion.

Gods help her, she wanted him to rend her in
two with that behemoth he kept between his legs. His fingers
couldn’t stretch her enough to accept his girth, and if it felt
anything like his digits, she knew it must be magic inside her.

It seemed that the dynamics of a sexual
relationship were not something she had understood as well as she
had once thought!

A shudder literally juddered down the expanse
of her body, when his fingers moved away and then the blunt head of
his cock rested there momentarily.

She opened her mouth to say something, to
stop him, that she wasn’t nearly ready enough, but the slow
insistent drive of his hips proved to be her undoing. Her entire
body tensed and she felt that lovely sense of relaxation
disappear.

Wolfe grunted, but it was a command
nonetheless, “Beau! Stop it. Relax.”

Isabeau licked her lips and then proceeded to
bite them. “But it hurts!”

“No, it doesn't. It will if you tense. Use
your ring.”

Her mouth popped open at his suggestion. Why
had she not thought of that?

Slowly, she switched her concentration from
what he was doing, to her ring. Her powers were drained, but this
surely would not use that much energy?

She found that, when she called upon them,
they were stronger than she had imagined. As she let the healing
heat rip through her, he simultaneously thrust all of the way
inside her without preamble. She cried out. Not from pain. From
pleasure. Every inch of her body accepted his full length. He
bumped against her womb, deep inside, his girth stretching her
impossibly. Had she not the ability to heal, she knew she’d be in
agony now.

“Oh, God!” she screamed as her legs jumped to
cling to his hips and her arms tightened around him and glued
themselves to his back.

Her nails dug into his flesh as he slowly
began to piston in and out of her and the chasing heat of the
healing warmth she'd summoned was dragged in his wake. His grunts
and groans were like magic to her ears and she realized that the
heat was affecting him too.

She was full … of him. She gasped, adjusting
to the thickness of his cock and his movements, fighting the
burning, searing pleasure that threatened to engulf her body.

“You are so tight,” he ground out as if
pained, pushing to her limit.

Her head twisted as mindless pleasure
assailed her. He thrust a hand between them, roughly rubbing her
clit to counteract the drive of his shaft within her. He slid
nearly free, smooth, and she found herself clenching to hold him
inside. He pulled to the edge then pushed quickly back inside,
driving her against the bed with the force of his reentry.

“I cannot take so much,” she gasped, writhing
and bucking, grasping him as if she could hold onto her sanity.

“You will,” he promised, rasping her clit
with his thumb, driving a wedge of need deep within her that had
the muscles of her channel quivering.

Heat built within her. Perspiration soaked
her hair, trickling down her neck and between her breasts. Her
stomach cramped with desperate need. Sobs trembled through her body
and she was mindless to everything but his incessant drive inside
her body, stroking her to climax. Her hoarse cries echoed around
the room, leaving her throat raw.

As difficult as it was not to concentrate on
what was happening to her body, she began to sob as she tried to
take her thoughts from that and revert her attention back to the
ring. Something told her, that if she were to do that, whatever
magic could be created by their joining would merely be enhanced by
her focused power.

She flung her head back and pressed against
the pillows with the crown of her head. Using that to ground her,
she focused on the ring. Her fingers were no way near it, so she
was unsure if anything would even happen, but she focused on the
minerals. Focused on her energy channeling through each and every
single crevice and crack of the stone and almost as though
something had exploded...her sobs became cries of pleasure, of
ecstasy.

The charring bolts of fire burst through both
of their bloodstreams as pleasure that was literally beyond this
Earth took control of their bodies. Great, gasping breaths weren't
sufficient to regulate her breathing nor slow her heart beat. It
seemed to never end. Bright orbs of color attacked her eyes, loud
blaring sounds hurt her ears. Every sense was affected. From the
tang of his sweat against her tongue as she bit against his
shoulder, to the feeling that every single part of her was being
touched.

Amazing.

Incredible.

Beautiful.

They were her last thoughts before her mind,
having never experienced the like, experienced no more.

Chapter Nine

Isabeau awoke to a soft hand stroking down
the length of her back. Gently, but surely, reawakening her and at
the same time, comforting her. It was so like what he'd done
earlier, that she couldn't help but feel smug.

In fact, what she had felt earlier, was
nothing in comparison to how she felt now. Now, she felt more alive
than ever and how marvelous it was, to feel so bright.

“Wolfe?”

“Beau?”

She smiled against his chest and rubbed her
nose in the hair that had gathered there. His scent was strong,
male, masculine. And because of that, foreign, so deeply
intriguing.

“Why do woman complain about what occurs in
the bedroom with their husbands? You did nothing there that would
not take place between man and wife, is that not so?” she asked
softly.

He laughed a little. Although it did sound
rather choked. He did, however, answer her earnestly. “It can
depend on both parties, Beau. A lot of women are terrified when
they first go to bed. When I first entered you, you seized up. So
even though originally you weren't, you grew to be. Most women are
petrified from the start. They think they're going to be hurt and
because of that, because they react by stiffening up, it makes it
worse. In our case, the ring...well, the ring did things I've never
imagined.” He laughed, sounding like a light-hearted boy who had
discovered that when it rained, the heavens opened up and dropped
toffees on to the fellows on the ground.

That image had her smiling.

“Now I know why my mother always seemed to
have a smile on her face,” she commented blithely and chuckled as
he snorted then burst out laughing. “What! It is true! If she
experienced that, then...let's not forget, she wore the ring before
I did!”

“You're not supposed to think things like
that about one's parents, Beau,” he chastised teasingly.

It was her turn to snort. “Since when? I did
not realize you were a prude, milord.”

He laughed again and squeezed one of her
buttocks roughly. “I'm not!”

She giggled a little then stopped abruptly.
“The Duke of Sinclair and Heath.”

Wolfe stiffened beneath her but she kept
herself close to him and refused to let him not answer her.

“That is you, is it not?”

She felt rather than saw or heard his
affirmative response.

“I can't believe it. They did...what they did
to your father? A duke?!” she exclaimed, shocked.

“What do you mean...what they did? You can't
possibly know! It was hushed up. His killers did the hushing and
very successfully too.” The words were bitter and she realized that
in all the time that had passed between that day with the French
man, Gerard, be it two years or ten, Wolfe was still filled with
resentment and hatred. It was still as strong as ever.

Of course, it was, ninny, Isabeau then
thought sadly. Unless he was being ridden by hard-hitting and
powerful emotions, there was no way she would even be here!

Still, it saddened her. To think that his
parents' deaths and the subsequent torture was still affecting him
and so fiercely.

She tensed and when Isabeau heard his
gruff, harsh laugh, she realized two things. That happy, buoyant
sound was no more
and
he'd
realized how she knew.

“You've been snooping again!”

“I've done no such thing!” she retorted
hotly. “As if I'd do anything of the sort! And how would I do so
anyway? I've only just learned to summon you here, never mind delve
deep into your psyche. I dreamt it again. That's all.”

“That's all? That's all!” he grunted.
“It's more than simply 'that's all' Isabeau! Dammit, don't you
realize those are
my
memories?
They're
mine
! Personal.
Private. Even Gerard, my man, knows nothing of how I was captured.
It is something I guard closely.”

“But I did not do it on purpose. I simply
fell asleep after you left and dreamt...”

“Don't you realize that that makes it all the
more frustrating? How can I berate you for something that is beyond
your control, yet involves and affects me greatly?”

“You can't,” she replied simply and curled
her lips over her teeth at his chuckle.

“So black and white. Yet we both know the
world is filled with more grays than even the mortals can
imagine.”

“Mortals?”

“Aye. Mortals. You are not one. Neither am I.
A Sidhe is neither mortal nor immortal. We can live for a hellish
number of years, yet we very rarely make it because of those
bastards!”

She hushed him by gently stroking his waist,
from navel to hip. It seemed to soothe him, for he settled against
the mattress.

“Do they just hate us in general then?”
Isabeau asked quietly.

“Yes. They hate us and everything we stand
for.”

“But why? I know you explained earlier, but
surely it is more?”

“No. Tis simply a grudge. For something I had
no control over, nor you, nor my man Gerard, nor the countless
thousands of other Sidhe who have been persecuted by them...we are
not to blame. They are. The Tuatha De Danann died out and we became
them. No longer are we mound-dwellers,” he said with a rough laugh.
“Perhaps they are jealous. They wished to keep us below ground with
the insects and animals and yet, here we are. Me, a Duke. And you,
the daughter of an Earl. Rather ironic, don't you think?

“And considering that you are more privy to
my private thoughts than anyone, including myself, if I recall,
that that night was the first time I actually used my talents. I
can remember falling over my mother's body and suddenly lights just
bolted out of nowhere. Again. Ironic. Something they wished to
quench, they fired.”

“Why? There is nothing ironic about this
situation. It's a hideous position to be in and entirely out of
order. I can't understand why we don't fight back. Do we simply
run?”

He stiffened again, but said softly, “You
share my sentiments, Beau. Gerard would have me believe that
they're all innocent beings.” Wolfe snorted. “Innocent, my foot. It
kills them to see the Sidhe flourishing, whilst their low numbers
die out. Well,” he conceded. “...their true numbers. Sidhe's very
rarely mate out of the line. It is too difficult to discuss our
talents with humans. Milesians have bred out and have lost their
true sense of lineage.”