Soulceress (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 2) (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Warren felt his cheekbones heat. “Aye, except with you. Give me a beer.”

She held out the bottle and their fingers touched. A thrill crept up his arm. He wanted to yank her to him. Instead, he turned toward the stove. As much as he wanted her, it was a terrible idea. And he wanted to prove that he wanted her for more than her body.

He tossed the pork chops in the heated pan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Chairman perk up from the couch and then hop down to stalk into the kitchen. He stared up demandingly at the stove, his bullish little face intent on the sizzling meat.

“Chairman, leave him alone.”

The cat ignored her.

“He wants pork,” he said.

“He wants everything.”

“Aye, and he’ll have it. There are three in here.” He’d planned to eat two, but with the Chairman looking at him like this, there was no way he wasn’t sharing. And he doubted the Chairman would settle for the tinned cat food they’d brought for the trip.

After a few minutes, the pork was done and the zucchini nearly there. He slid the chops onto a plate, then plucked one off and put it on a smaller plate for the cat.

“Watch your hand! That’s got to be hot.”

He shrugged. Though he wasn’t a true Mythean, he had their healing ability. He felt pain less than mortals and wounds healed quickly, especially small ones. Considering that without his soul, nothing on heaven or earth could kill him, a little burn from a pork chop was nothing.

“It’s fine,” he said, lowering the now cooling chop to the floor for the cat. If the Chairman had been a normal cat, he’d have cut it up. But he’d seen the Chairman with a steak he’d pulled out of the fridge back at Cadan’s house on Mull. The cat liked the challenge of tearing into a whole piece of meat.

“You’re feeding my cat again?” she asked, something unidentifiable in her voice.

“Aye. I like him.”

He caught her appraising look as she raised her beer bottle to her mouth. He had to force himself to drag his gaze away from her lips. He shifted and turned back to the stove, hiding the fact that his cock was growing obnoxiously hard just from looking at her. It took only a second to serve up the simple meal and he and Esha sat at the small table pressed against the wall.
 

“Thanks,” she said when he placed the dish in front of her.
 

He watched her take a bite. There was a primal satisfaction in feeding her. He hadn’t had anyone to take care of in centuries.
 

“This is really good. Do you do a lot of cooking back home?”

“Some. I’ve a nice kitchen that I remodeled a while back. I actually used to live in your tower flat before you arrived at the university.”

She did a double take. “Oh? I thought it was just for outcasts.”

Guilt stabbed at him, an icepick straight to the gut. “Ah, well.”

“You know it’s true. It’s a beautiful place, but it’s at the far edge of campus, as far from everything else as a building could be.”

He sighed. “Aye. When you came, we weren’t sure where to put you. I liked it when I lived there. A fine place.”

“I guess it is, if you don’t mind being a pariah.”

“You’re no’.”
 

“Yes, I am.” Her voice was fierce, the amber in her eyes darker than usual.

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Sure.” She stabbed another piece of zucchini, clearly wanting to change the subject. “So, why were you placed in the pariah tower?”

He shrugged, not wanting to answer. But he owed her the truth. “You once called me a mystery monster.”

She flinched. “Sorry about that.”

“Doona worry about it, you were right. When I sold my soul, I became something
other
. Deathless in a way that no other immortal is, since I have no soul to take my consciousness to an afterworld.”
 

Esha put down her fork and stared at him. “So you mean that decapitation or immolation or magic can’t kill you like it will the rest of us?”
 

“Aye. Without my soul as my ticket to an afterworld, my body will reform with my consciousness. As a result of the change, I popped up on the university’s radar. I couldn’t stay with my clan. It would reveal the existence of Mytheans.”

“Maybe not.”

“Well, it would reveal that immortality is possible, since I’d never die. That’s close enough. The university knew they had to do something with me. They gave me a place to live—the tower, since they dinna know what I was or what I was capable of—until they figured out a place for me.”

“With the Praesidium.”

“Aye.”

She nodded, then laughed bitterly. “So maybe if I stayed another hundred years, I’d make it out of pariah status.”

“You’re no’ a pariah to me.”

The smallest smile pulled at the edge of her mouth, but she changed the subject. “So, your kitchen. Did you do the renovation yourself?”

“Aye. I like to build things.”

“I know.” He raised an eyebrow, and she flushed. “I saw you go into the Veterans’ League once, to do woodworking with the soldiers. Why do you do that?”

He shrugged. “I like it.”

She nodded encouragingly, brows raised, as if she knew there was more that he wasn’t saying. But he’d said enough today.
 

“You finished?” He nodded at her plate.

“Um, yeah.”
 

He grabbed it and his own and put them on the counter, then leaned over the sink and closed his eyes. Opening up to someone was fucking hard. It came in fits and starts. He’d held his darkest secret for so long that releasing it made him feel empty. It had defined him, but in the worst way.
 

Now, when it came time to share more, it felt like pulling the words from his heart, but they were tangled around the veins and muscle.

Gradually, he realized that the heat he felt at his back was Esha standing so close to him that he could feel the warmth of her body.

Hesitantly, Esha laid a hand on the tense muscles of Warren’s back. She’d followed him over here, unable to help herself even though she knew he sought distance from her. From sharing more.

That, she could understand. Trust and change weren’t easy. She swallowed hard, acknowledging that where she had trouble trusting, so did he. But she was so close now, desperate to know more about him. She was throwing herself into this, but couldn’t seem to help herself. “You go to the Veterans’ League as a way to atone, don’t you?”

He stiffened, but turned to look down at her. He stood so close that she could feel his heat. She had to stifle a shiver that rushed over her. When his eyes met hers, intense and hot, she felt the heat of a flush creep up her cheeks.

“Aye. And it helps me, no’ just them. I’m no’ a good man. No’ what everyone thinks I am.”

She raised a hand to his chest, laying it against his pounding heart. “Why is it such a secret? You’ve done it for years and no one knows about it.”

He shrugged, but his gaze dropped to her mouth. The hunger in his eyes sent a streak of heat straight to her pussy. Now that he’d had a taste of what ditching celibacy was like, he wanted more, it seemed.
 

But she’d told herself she was going to be smart about this. Not get involved, especially not after everything he’d told her. She could fall for a man like him. But falling for someone had never ended well in the past, and it wouldn’t end well this time either.
 

She pulled away, but was stopped short when he reached out and wrapped a strong arm around her waist.

A small gasp escaped her. “I should—”

The heat of his lips cut her off. One of his big hands cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer to him until the full length of her body pressed against his. Unable to help herself, she moaned at the hardness of him. His muscles, his hands, his cock. It was like being pressed up against warm, living steel.

His mouth was ravenous on hers, hot and skilled and desperate. She could feel the years he’d been denying himself, and against her own best instincts, wanted to be the one he chose to be with for the first time in so long.

When his big hand spread across her lower back and yanked her closer to him, all thought of objection fled. She ran her hands up the hard muscles of his chest until she could wrap her arms around his neck and sink her hands into the soft hair at his nape.

“Fuck, I want you.” The words were harsh against her lips.

Yes.
 

Still kissing her, he spun her around until the countertop pressed cold and hard at her back. She cried out when she felt his hands grip her ass and lift her up onto the counter. His hips pushed her legs wide until his cock was pressed hard against her sex.

Warren groaned at the feel of her heat against him. It was all he could do not to yank the clothes off her and plunge himself deep. He wanted nothing more than to feel her hot flesh close around his aching shaft, pulling him inside.
 

He’d start slow, thrusting gently until she was begging him to move harder, faster. Anything to make her come. Only when she begged him would he pound into her until the pleasure made her squeeze his cock and he followed her over the edge.

The fantasy only served to stoke his arousal to a fever pitch. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her closer until her soft curves were pressed up against him. He grinned when he felt her shiver. “You like that, do you?”
 

She moaned and kissed him harder. Her hands reached around his back and slid up his shirt, the heat of them a brand on his flesh. When she dragged her sweet mouth away from his lips, he reached up to pull her head back. Before he could, her lips brushed against his neck. Soft licks and sharp bites made his cock jump. He’d never survive this. Celibacy had worked so well in the past, but it was a ridiculous idea now.

“You taste so good,” she whispered.

He shuddered and let his head drop back as her hot mouth worked on him. One day soon, she’d be on her knees before him, gripping his hips while he fed the length of his cock between her lips. The idea of her red lips closing over the tip of his shaft made it pulse in his jeans. He’d spill again from the thought of her if he wasn’t careful.

He wanted her hands on him, hot and soft on his shaft as he thrust against her. But he wouldn’t ask. Wouldn’t pressure her into that. Instead, he ran his hands up inside the back of her shirt until he reached her bra. With a flick of his finger, it came undone.

“What are you—”

His mouth cut off her words. “I want to touch you, lassie. Feel your soft breasts in my hands. I ache for you.”

She pulled away. “I—um. This isn’t a good idea.”

His head jerked back, and he looked down at her. She was serious. Though her eyes were hazy with desire and her lips red from his kisses, her jaw was set.
 

“Really. This... It’s just a bad idea. I’m not strong enough for this.” She pushed at his chest, and he stepped back. She hopped off the counter and retreated to the first-floor bedroom. Just before she went through the door, she said, “Um, thanks for dinner. See you in the morning.”

The door shut behind her and he stood in the kitchen, stunned. One second she’d been moaning in his arms, the next she’d retreated. And what the hell did she mean, she wasn’t strong enough for this?