Silvia Day (7 page)

“It doesn’t matter, Aidan.” Lyssa parted her lips in blatant invitation for a kiss, which he obliged with a tempered hunger that made her whimper and grow damp between her thighs.

“You could look like a troll and have antennae,” she gasped when he allowed her to breathe, “and I’d still want you.”

“Why?” His arched brow refuted her claim.

“Because of the way you hold me, and the way you make me feel.” Tossing her leg over his hip, Lyssa pushed him to his back and came over him again. “You really don’t have antennae, right?”

He grinned, and her heart stopped. “Right. Guardians are very similar to humans.”

She licked the tip of his nose, then his lips, then his nipple, which hardened beneath her tongue. “I wanted you when it was dark in here,” she whispered. “Just as much as I want you now.”

Sliding lower, she followed the happy trail of silky hair down the rippling muscles of his abdomen. He tensed and arched into her mouth, his hips thrusting in demand, making her feel every silken inch of hard cock between her breasts.

“Want me to go lower?” she asked, knowing damn well he did.

“I want you to make love to me. In whatever way you want.”

Make love to me.

Startled at his choice of words, she looked up the length of his torso to meet his gaze. Seeing the austere vulnerability in his handsome features, Lyssa’s eyes burned with tears, making his visage blurry. Suddenly their intimacy felt intensely, hauntingly personal.

It would kill her when he left. She didn’t know how she would bear it.

But he was worth it. Where he was concerned, she’d take what she could get and be glad of it.

“I’ve come to realize that I feel the same,” he murmured in that deep rumble she loved.

Aidan looked up at the blond beauty who lay atop him and was content for the first time in centuries. He felt the depth of Lyssa’s affection in every glance, every touch, every word she spoke, and he hungered for it. Needed it.

“Hurry,” she said urgently, as impatient as he was to be connected in every way possible.

He reversed their positions and ripped away the tiny scrap of lace that held her thong to her hip. Taking her mouth with fervent intensity, he reached between her legs and found her slick and hot. His cock jerked in eagerness to be inside her, to be one with her so that nothing could keep them apart.

With reverent fingers he parted her, finding her clit and stroking it with cream-coated fingers, coaxing it from its hood. She moaned into his kiss, her legs falling open, her body undulating in rhythm with his touch.

Leaning his weight on one arm, Aidan settled his hips between hers, his fingers leaving her swollen sex to take his cock in hand. He used the head of his dick to tease her, to arouse her, rubbing it through the liquid evidence of her desire. All the while his tongue fucked her mouth in a deliberate imitation of what was to come. What he longed for more than his next breath.

And he wasn’t alone in his rampant hunger. Lyssa gave as good as she got.

His thoughts were filled with the lewd and lascivious dialogue she was having in her mind, cravings so raw they drenched his skin with sweat. He’d discovered that facet of her sexual desire the first time they made love. Lyssa thought of sex in language so carnal, his balls drew up, aching to be emptied inside her. Her hands clenched and
unclenched convulsively at his sides. He snatched one of her wrists and made her grip his cock.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he bit her earlobe and growled, “Feel how hard you make me? I’d have to ride you for days to get my fill. Nonstop, deep, hard fucking.”

Lyssa’s chest heaved with labored breaths and her skin became as hot as his, then hotter, so that it burned him. She was his oasis, his angel, but when it came to sex with him, she liked it just the way he did—no holds barred. No barriers. Just pure, raw carnality binding them together.

“And you’re so tiny,” he taunted, feeling her desire swell as mental images acted out the words he spoke. “Your cunt so deliciously tight. I can’t wait to feel that again…The way your pussy grips my cock as I work it into you…”

She turned her head and bit his neck with no gentleness, just before she lifted her hips and sucked the pulsing head of his dick just barely inside.

“Start working, then, tough guy,” she challenged, breathless.

Aidan shuddered violently as her drenched, hungry pussy closed tight as a fist around him. The control he’d felt just a moment ago fled, replaced by unadulterated lust. He gritted his teeth and began to pump his hips slowly, feeling her soft-as-velvet walls struggle to expand and take his cock.

Her head fell back and she moaned. “Ah god…you feel amazing.”

He wanted to reply, but couldn’t speak. So many women, so many years…None of them had ever taken
him
. His duty was to fill in dreams about other men. He was never himself, only a phantasm of someone else. Even when he’d
lain with other Guardians, it wasn’t Aidan they wanted, but Captain Cross. The legend, not the man.

No one knew how he’d come to hate that disconnection, how empty his life seemed to him now, how satisfaction with a job well done eluded him. Because it was never done. It was endless.

I wanted you when it was dark in here,
Lyssa had said.

He believed her.

She was the only one who knew him. She was the only lover who wanted
him
. The woman who used adoring fingertips to stroke
his
skin, who shifted her hips to make
him
more comfortable, who whispered her encouragement with no shame or insecurity.

“Yes…” she breathed. “Give it to me.”

He swiveled his hips and worked his cock deeper into her, his entire frame tensed against the pleasure that threatened to unman him.

All the agony of the last two weeks fell away, the hard knots in his shoulders and back loosening from the sensual heat. There was only this moment. The moment when he sank balls-deep into a juicy cunt that belonged to a woman he admired and longed for. A woman who made him smile, and touched him with such reverence.

Gratitude and affection closed his throat.

Feeling the shaking of Aidan’s arms, Lyssa stared up into his flushed face and felt tears well. Deep inside her, he pulsed, every beat of his heart echoed in the throbbing of the hard flesh that filled her.

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted, needing him to know that he was important to her.

His jaw tightened, and he nodded. She knew he had missed her, too. Not just because he was here again, but because she felt it radiating from him. His need and longing were tangible.

“Give me the top,” she murmured, gripping his shoulders as he complied.

For a moment she stared, taking the time to absorb the feel of him beneath her and inside her. It was because of him that she couldn’t move forward with Chad. Chad couldn’t make her feel like this. Chad wasn’t the voice that had found her in the darkness, or the strong arms that held her in sleep, or the quiet strength that made her feel safe. Aidan was her anchor.

“You were right,” she said softly, lifting onto her knees, her eyelids growing heavy at the feel of his cock caressing her as it withdrew.

“About what?” His large body shuddered as she lowered again.

“About making love.” Her hands stroked over the tops of his shoulders.

“Lyssa…” He laced his fingers with hers, supporting her as she began to ride him with greater urgency. She whimpered in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he crooned, watching her with intense blue eyes. “Take me any way you want.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead as she began a steady rhythm of lifting and falling, stroking the thick length of his cock with the adoring clasp of her body. He was too big for her, his hips spreading her thighs wide enough that the lips of her cunt kissed the root of his erection with
every deep lunge. A moan escaped, and then another, as she struggled to rub the spot inside that ached for him.

“I—I can’t…”

Knowing what she needed, Aidan took over, releasing her hands to hold her hips as he pumped upward in steady drives. It was perfect, the way he moved, the variations in the depths of his thrusts, the circling of his hips. She could barely breathe, barely think, her body helplessly lost to his skill.

Leaning forward on all fours, she let him have his way, let him kill her with feeling and sensation, let him take her where he would. The sound of his luscious voice, husky with lust and purring heated sex words, made her cunt flutter along his cock, then clutch tightly in orgasm.

“Ah god…!” The cry that left her throat was not her own. She didn’t know where it came from; it poured up from the same place as her pleasure, from deep within.

“Sweet Lyssa,” he growled, his mouth to her ear as her arms collapsed, leaving her hips suspended by his strength alone. Now he took what he needed, using her body to satisfy his own, his face buried between her breasts, wallowing in her scent, as he drove upward into her spasming depths with long, deep plunges.

His entire frame convulsed when he came, the words he groaned were in some ancient language she couldn’t understand. Except for her name. She heard it, heard the possessiveness in it, and she held him, rocked him, soothed him as he emptied himself inside her in hot, pulsing streams. Giving her all that he was. All that she wanted to keep.

But would be forced to lose when the night was over.

Aidan held Lyssa’s damp body tightly to his, hearing the rasping of his own labored breathing, feeling her raging heartbeat against his chest.

Around them, the soft summer breeze blew, cooling their burning skin. How long had it been since sex had truly satisfied him? He couldn’t remember. He knew only that it had never left him feeling like this.

“Aidan,” she breathed in her soft, innocent voice, a sound filled with wonder and satiety.

“Hmm?”

She sighed and attempted to move off him. Unwilling to be separated, he turned carefully, keeping his cock buried deep inside her. Side by side they faced each other. He lifted a hand to brush the damp hair from her face, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. One of gratitude and joy.

This morning, death had been almost welcome. Exhausted and disheartened, the flow of shadows from the Gateway endless, he’d wondered why he should keep fighting. What good did it do?

Now it seemed so simple. His battle kept Lyssa safe, kept her alive and well. That was enough reason to go on.

It was then that the rustling sounds of papers in her drawing pad caught his attention. He reached over her, his intent to tuck it beneath the blanket, when a soft gust of wind flipped the page. His heart stopped at what he saw, his chest tightening in the viselike grip of pure fear. Everything faded away, even Lyssa, as he stared at her drawings with horror such as he’d never known.

Nightmares, the Gateway, endless years of death and war…None had struck terror in him like the sight of
his own face
staring back at him.

“Lyssa.” His voice was low and gravelly, forcing him to clear his throat before he could go on. “Have you shown these to anyone else?”

“What?” She nuzzled into his throat, her lips brushing against his skin. Golden hair flowed across the arm he used to hold her close, hair that smelled of flowers and hard sex, a potent combination that stirred him deep inside.

“These pictures, have you shared them with other Guardians?”

“No.” She pulled back, her dark eyes capped with a frown. “Why?”

“We must destroy them.” His hands shook.
What can I do?

“Why?” She lifted her head to look at the image with a soft, adoring smile. “I told you the lighting was bad. I couldn’t make out your eye color in the candlelight. Your irises are such a deep blue, they looked dark. And your hair. The silver is so faint.” She glanced at him. “But I like it. In fact, it turns me on.”

He inhaled sharply. All this time it had been
his
appearance she enjoyed so much. Even as masculine satisfaction spread warmth through his veins, the ramifications of her unique cognizance spread goose bumps across his skin.

She winced. “Am I that far off from how you really look? I’m sorry. We’ll tear them up and throw them away.”

Everything he knew, all the work of his friends and the Elders, all his training…For one thing…

To kill the Key.
A prophecy whose traits Lyssa displayed in abundance—she controlled the dream, she called him by name, she could see him. It was the last that was the most damning. That she could see into the Twilight. It was
rare enough to find those Dreamers who recognized that they were dreaming and took control of the events. Never had they found a Dreamer who could see clearly into their world and comprehended that they were interacting with a real being. If the Elders learned of her abilities, they would kill her. Aidan himself didn’t know what to make of the revelation.

But he’d think about it later. Right now he needed to find a way to keep Lyssa safe. Every time she fell asleep, she was in danger. Time was running out. If the Elders didn’t know what she was capable of yet, they soon would.

“When the Guardians come to you, do they ask you to describe them? To draw them? Anything like that?”

“Yes. Weirdos.” She wrinkled her nose. “I told them this isn’t a dog show. I’m not jumping hoops.”

Aidan hugged her tightly to him. He couldn’t do a damn thing for her in the Twilight. By the time sleep brought her here, she was vulnerable. He had to protect her before she arrived. Before she fell asleep.

What the hell am I going to do?

If only there were more Guardians who harbored the same doubts he did, he could ask for their help. If enough of them approached the Elders as one voice, perhaps they would be heard. But if there were others like him, they guarded their thoughts as zealously as he had. As far as he knew, he was the only one to question the wisdom of the Elders.

She could lock herself in again
…

But who knew how long it would take him to build support. She had been on the verge of losing her mind when he found her, a recollection that led him to a darker thought.