Obsidian Flame (40 page)

“You mean, you think if you did that again, it might not hurt? You think it might feel good?”

“Yeah.” His deep gravelly voice got even deeper.

Her body started to tremble. As he pushed against her mind, she let her shields fall, which meant he fell inside and did a kind of lumbering roll as he righted himself. “Do I take that as a yes?”

“Hell, yeah, but I can’t imagine what’s going to happen. And by the way, it really hurt last time.”

“I know and I didn’t like that you were getting hurt, but I liked being in there. A lot.” He rose up out of the water. “What do you think?”

She slid her arms around his waist and held on to him. He was very firm. In fact he was goddamn hard. She pressed up against him and wiggled so that his eyes did a roll and he sucked in air like he was breathing through a straw. “So what position do you want to do this in.”

“Again, so my kind of woman.” He began backing her up in the direction of the platform. “I want you up here, prone.”

She looked behind her, and when he lifted her by her waist, she knew where she was headed. By the time her ass felt the platform, he’d folded a nice thick terry onto the hard stone just for her.

“You are so thoughtful.”

“There’s another one next to you in case you get cold. I’m still in all this warm water up to my thighs but”—he looked down her body at her bare mons—“you might get chilled because I’ll be leaving most of you uncovered.”

She smiled as she spread her legs wide for him and drew her knees up. “What do you intend to do?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.

She watched a tremor pass through him. His mouth fell open. She dragged the extra towel, rolled it up, and shoved it under her head. She wanted to watch this, one big warrior planting his hands on either side of her hips and dipping his face right where she wanted it.

Do you like that I’m bare?
she sent as his tongue made one long swipe.

God yes. At least right now, I do. I loved your thick hair as well. Aw, hell, Marguerite, I’m just so into your body. Addicted.

She knew exactly what he meant. His thick tongue began lapping at her, and everything low began trembling all over again.

Thorne?

Yeah, sweetheart.
He groaned.
You taste of rose and woman blended and I’m hard as rock because of it. But, yeah, what do you want? More of this?
He flicked his tongue over her in quick little pats so that her back arched and he had to hold her pelvis down to keep her on the platform. His warm laughter rippled through the damp air.

Oh, God, she could so get used to this, being with him all the time. She felt him inside her mind as well, a strong presence. Her heart started to hurt all over again.

You said you wanted something.

She looked back down at his head bobbing between her legs.
Actually, I was wondering, before you plunge into my obsiddy power, whether you needed some, you know, sustenance. Sustenance very low this time.

He stopped lapping and groaned so deeply, pushing away from the stone, that she knew the thought of what she was offering had nearly brought him.

When he finally met her gaze, his eyes were at half-mast and his lips were parted as he worked to drag air in.

“Take me low,” she said and she stretched her right leg out, pushing her knees even farther apart, and ran a hand slowly down along the side of her thigh.

He caught her fingers and kissed her hand but immediately settled his face into her groin and nuzzled her. Then he began to lick, long hard swipes to coax the vein to rise.

Her body began to tense because that kind of activity, so close to her clit, told her exactly what was coming. Thorne was no novice, either, and in preparation for what he knew this would do to her, he slid his fingers inside.
You’re so wet.

Of course I am. Oh, God, Thorne. I’m ready. Just do it.

He took his free arm and pressed across her lower abdomen in order to keep her anchored. Thank God he was strong, because as soon as he started taking her blood, she wouldn’t be able to control her body’s reactions.

One last lick, then he struck.

She didn’t care how he did it, but she loved when he penetrated her: tongue, fingers, cock, fangs. Her body did exactly what she knew it would do, a full-body roll lifting her off the platform, but he was strong, and his left arm kept her pinned in place so that his fangs wouldn’t tear her apart.

He drank hard and fast and she could hear his breathing take on a desperate quality, forcing his chest up and down in almost heaving gasps as he dragged air through his nose.

She was so close, but he suddenly rose up, his mouth covered in her blood.

She would have complained at the abrupt cessation, but she glanced low. His cock was a missile. She scooted her hips closer toward him, until she was almost falling off the side of the pool, but he stood breathing hard, his hands in fists.

His eyes were closed and he almost looked like he was in pain.

“Thorne?”

He held up one hand to still her.
Hold on,
he sent.

But for just a moment, as he stood there, that silvery white light poured over him until he was bathed in light, transfigured, a god once more.

*   *   *

Thorne didn’t quite understand what the hell was happening to him. Shit, Marguerite’s blood was suddenly a fire in his stomach, in his chest, in his veins, now flowing through his heart and setting his soul on fire, more than ever before.

He felt stronger, more fit for the world, ready to take on what was about to descend on Second Earth. Sweet Jesus, this was one helluva drug.

He was hard as flint and ready to come, but he didn’t want to, not yet, not like this, not separated from her. And he wanted to delve into her obsidian flame power. He could feel the source waiting for him since he was within her mind, like a radiating heat not far away.

He opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Thorne, your eyes.”

“What?” They felt warm, almost hot.

“They’re almost glowing.”

He nodded and moved toward her, toward all the swollen parts of her, opened wide and waiting. He wasn’t exactly present. His need spoke for him, to be inside her as her blood was inside him, making him burn, making him hard.

He put one hand over her bare mons, savoring the feel of her. He took his cock in his hand and guided himself to her opening, holding himself in place. He began to push, his hips jerking forward.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“No, it felt good. Oh, God, Thorne.”

He looked at her now and she dragged the towel from beneath her head so that she could lie flat. Her head rolled from side to side. “I love you inside me,” she said, her voice breathy.

“I love being here so much.”

She was so wet, so ready for him that three long pushes and he was buried deep. She accommodated him all the way to the end. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he moved over her, covering her because he was just that much bigger than her. He leaned down and arched to kiss the side of her head, her temple, her forehead.

She stretched and he found her lips, kissing her deep for a moment. It was the one thing they couldn’t do because of the difference in their heights: really kiss face-to-face while doing this. But like hell he was complaining when she was everything he could have ever wanted in a partner.

He rolled his hips and drove into her, quickening his pace a little, groaning as she grew so tight, so close, so ready to come.

I want to dive now,
he sent.

Oh, God, do it, Thorne.

If I hurt you, I’ll back out, I promise.

I know you will, but I just have this feeling …

I know. Me, too.

He stretched out, settling his forearms next to her shoulders. In this position, his chest touched hers. She tilted her head, and her mouth found his neck. The groan that left him ricocheted around the rough dark stone walls. “Take my blood, Marguerite. Yes, do it.”

He positioned himself as well as he could. She slid her arm around his neck to anchor him. She struck and the sensation caused his cock to jerk inside her. He tensed, holding back. Dammit, he almost came. He breathed light shallow breaths as she began to draw on his blood.

Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it quick.

He closed his eyes.
You ready?

Yes.

Within her mind, he moved swiftly to her obsidian flame channel. He dove within and he heard her groans and it was all good.

Thorne. Oh, God, Thorne.

I know. I’m feeling it, too. Sweet Jesus all that sensation is going straight to my groin.
He pumped faster. The tunnel was dark and long. Pleasure flowed all around him, teasing his mind, sending streaks of pleasure down through his torso and into his lower abdomen in pulsing streaks that built the deeper he dove.

He saw the pinprick of light that zoomed toward him opening suddenly and then he was inside her power, inside obsidian flame. All that pleasurable sensation intensified and the pulses quickened.

He could tell her orgasm was close.

Her screams were the first signal. The second was the bright flash of light. The third was the sudden energy that propelled him back up through her mind as at the same time he began to ejaculate. He pulsed and pumped and came, the orgasm taking him on a long, long ride all the way back up through her dark tunnel, now made light and brilliant.

He had never felt such intense pleasure, such a complete orgasm, still pulsing within him. She writhed beneath him.
Thorne, I’m still coming.

Yes.
He couldn’t say more than that. He was still flying. His body stilled for a moment, but he threw his head back as another orgasm caught him and he came a second time, apparently to Marguerite’s pleasure because she was screaming again, and arching her hips into him as hard as he was thrusting against her.

When he finally burst from her obsidian flame power it was like being propelled into outer space. He floated as the last of the second orgasm eased out of him, small twinges, sharp and perfect.

He was breathing hard as his body settled down on hers.
I’m going to withdraw from your mind.

Huh? Oh. Sure. Okay.

She was breathing hard as well.

He withdrew, but it felt strange and rubbery until a final little
pop
separated his mind from hers.

She chuckled against him. “That was weird. Wonderful but weird.”

“Yeah.” He could speak. Sort of. “Wow.”

“I know. My mind is full of beautiful rainbow-colored sparkles, like a shower of fireworks. I think I’m high.”

“I know I am.” He drew out of her so he could pull back and look into her eyes. “That was beautiful. What was it like for you?”

She shook her head. “I’m befuddled.”

He smiled and leaned close to her, propping himself up over her with one arm. “Befuddled?”

“Bemused, confused, idiotic. My mind is like a slug right now, but it feels so good.”

He kissed her, a soft pressure on her lips, then drew back.

“When you left the center of my power—”

“You mean when your orgasm propelled me out—”

“Is that what happened?”

“That’s what it seemed like inside your mind.”

“When you
flew
through that channel, oh … my … God. It was like a lightning strike of pleasure that kept coming and coming. I don’t why I’m still alive. And you know what else?”

“What?”

“We are so doing that again. A lot.”

He chuckled and kissed her. He spent the next several minutes just kissing her, thumbing her cheek, feeling her tongue on his lips, kissing her some more. He looked into her eyes and wondered how he could have ever thought of not having a life with her. He wondered if he should complete the
breh-hedden
with her—as in, maybe there was such a thing as destiny, maybe they even had a shared job to do, something together. Who else could have made love to her like this, traveling within her mind and entering her obsiddy power, as she called it.

It struck him as not insignificant that she matched him in power.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

“You. Me. This thing between us. I’m trying to understand what it is. All this … power, especially my ability to handle all that you can give me.”

She nodded. “Do you think it’s more than the
breh-hedden
? More than that weird myth?”