Beneath the alabaster sp.., p.26
Beneath the Alabaster Spire, page 26
Harlow looked down at her shoes as she listened. They were a pair of vintage leather boots that were glorious with the dress she wore, also vintage, from an estate sale she and Enzo had been to a few weeks ago. She’d taken every effort with her appearance. Her heart ached to hear Connor McKay’s words. He didn’t know his son at all.
“See you in a bit,” Connor said before walking away.
“He’s going to his hotel,” Finn explained.
Harlow nodded. Neither of them moved a muscle. Heat built in her chest, and then slid down her spine, straight into her core. She hated the buttoned up look he wore now, the conformity of it, the way he looked like his father. But the high of having won just a few inches back from Connor and Pasiphae was intoxicating, stoking the energy of the fervor higher with every breath she took.
“I am sorry for everything that happened in Nuva Troi while I was gone.” Finn’s voice was flat.
“Sounds like it,” she bit out, turning toward the car. There was every possibility they were still being watched. Besides, this felt like a game now, and the heat building between her thighs made her very motivated to play. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Finn grabbed her arm. The gesture was more violent looking than the actual gentle press of his fingers into her flesh. His body heat filled the space between them and Harlow didn’t even bother to fight the fervor. She let it rage through her, flooding her scent.
“I would like it if you’d accept my apology, Harlow.” The harsh tone of his voice didn’t match the silent plea in his eyes, or the bulge growing in his trousers. He adjusted himself, nostrils flaring as he scented her true feelings, no doubt.
“Fine,” Harlow agreed. “I accept. I’ll just forget about Sabre, and the fact that I’ve barely heard from you for weeks. I’ll accept that apologies like these are just ‘how it’s going to be.’ That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Just be grateful you’re lifting me up out of my low state and keep my mouth shut.”
Everything they’d said and done when he was gone was horrendous. But this heat building between them was delicious. It was like a reward to know that she could stand here, smarting off to him, proving to the Illuminated that she wouldn’t be cowed so easily, and turning him on. Because there was no doubt in her mind, Finn was aroused.
“I can think of better uses for your mouth,” Finn growled, yanking her into his arms.
“I bet you can,” she snarled back, every bit as feral as he was. She would tear his clothes from his body right here if he let her.
Finn’s voice was low and dangerous. “Get in the car, now.”
His fingers pressed into her waist as he pushed her towards the waiting Woody in the parking lot. There were only a few people around, but Finn’s grip on Harlow’s waist was firm as he pushed her against the car, lifting her dress as she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“That’s my good girl,” he purred. “Say you accept my apology.”
“Actually apologize,” she hissed.
He dropped her, shaking his head as he reached into the pocket of her dress to fetch the car keys. His fingers dragged up her hip from inside the pocket, lighting a fire within her that wouldn’t be stopped for anything now.
“Get in the car,” he commanded as he got into the driver’s seat.
She did as he asked, her heart pounding ferociously, her teeth practically aching from how tightly her jaw was set. They drove in silence for a few minutes. Finn pulled her phone from the console, and tossed it out the window, into the ocean, as they curved up the steep road toward the villa.
When the window closed she sighed with relief, but Finn shook his head. They still had to make it through decon. She let out a needy sound and his free hand stroked her thigh, sending the fire in her into a blazing inferno. Still, Finn said nothing, but kept the tease of his fingers moving up her thigh, closer and closer to the spot she needed him, through her dress.
He took a sharp left turn in the villa’s driveway, pulling off to the carriage house that sat in a wooded grove. A blazing bonfire crackled merrily in front of the little cottage. Finn stripped out of his clothes immediately. Alaric had assured her that Finn knew the rules of decon well, and sure enough, he threw his clothes directly into the fire. A bundle of herbs went in next, and the two of them pulled threads, using sigil magic to set his clothes fully ablaze. They were ashes in moments.
Harlow took the waiting glass jug of the ritual tisane that Larkin had prepared and poured it over Finn’s head. The fragrant herbs that made the spell work perfumed the air as water dripped over the planes of his face and down his muscled chest. She pulled threads of magic from the air, as well as directing her shadows to find any trace of foreign magic that might be hiding on or in Finn. She tried not to stare at his body, at his proud cock, standing at attention for her.
“You’re clean,” she said when he did not react to the water, or her probe. Her voice broke over the words. He was wet, water droplets still running through the rivulets of his various muscle groups, but it was the look on his face that undid her.
The raw love and fear in his eyes had her leaping into his arms. He caught her, yanking her up his naked body as his mouth crashed into hers. The kiss was desperate, fervent, nearly violent with the intensity of passion between them.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Me too,” she said as the sobs she’d been holding in since the moment he left came spilling out of her. “I knew. We agreed. But it felt too real sometimes.”
And it had. All the arguments, well-positioned as they’d been, weren’t scripted. They’d agreed it was best to improvise, and some of them had hurt more than others. She’d known he’d push her buttons and dig into things that were well-known insecurities for her, but she hadn’t anticipated how real it all would feel. How truly heartbroken she’d been at times.
His arms tightened around her, as he held her effortlessly aloft. “I know, baby girl. I know. But it worked. We’ve got them worried, and despite everything going on at home, he’s here. I don’t know why, but he’s here.”
“Let’s go inside. My sisters and Alaric are finishing with a second round of advanced wards in the villa. Alaric is going out to the bay this time, just to make sure.”
He glanced over her shoulder at the cottage. “They did this already?”
Harlow kissed Finn’s face about a dozen times, thrilled to be back in his arms. “Yes. We’re alone and it’s safe. I have so many things to tell you.”
He detached her legs from around his waist, scooping her into his arms. “I don’t really want to talk right now, do you?”
His kiss was gentle, persuasive. “Not really, but I have—er, some pertinent information.”
Finn laughed, his real laugh, the one she loved as he carried her into the carriage house. No one had used it for several years, as it was mostly extra space for guests now, but there was a huge, comfortable bed upstairs, and she’d changed the linens on it herself this morning. When he dumped her in the bed, he stood at the end, smiling that slightly crooked smile, looking devious as seventeen hells.
“There’s quite a few buttons on your pretty dress,” he said. “I’ll give you until I’m done unbuttoning them to catch me up. Deal?”
Harlow was unable to focus as she watched his cock. “Sure.” She slid to the end of the bed and pulled him toward her. “But first, tell me a few things.”
Finn’s eyes fell shut as she stroked his cock a few times. Her hands were soft and loose as she asked, “Did you miss me?”
His eyes opened slightly and his fingers ran gently through her hair as her mouth closed around him. “Yes,” he moaned. She took him deeper into her throat. This wouldn’t be possible in his true form. When she pulled her mouth off his cock, swirling her tongue around the head of it for good measure she asked, “Did they read all our texts?”
He nodded, pushing her hair out of her face. “Yes, they read them all. Cian couldn’t get a good bug on them, but they tracked where the information was routing to, and it’s definitely Connor’s people. Pretty sure the texts were the clencher.”
“So they believe you want Sabre as your lover?”
“My dad at least thinks I fucked them while I was in Nuva Troi, especially after the Section Seven shit.” He crouched down, and she made a little noise.
“I was playing with that.”
The kiss he initiated was sweet, slowing things down, rather than advancing them. “I know, but I need you to listen. I am so sorry for what Section Seven put you through. When we decided to do this, I knew they’d be cruel, but the comments… Harls. I’m so sorry.”
She nodded, swallowing her sadness. He was here now, and things were fine with them. They had been the instant he’d stepped off the train, and she’d felt how much he’d missed her in that first shared look. “It’s okay. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, as long as I know what’s true.”
“When this is over, I’m going to set this right. They won’t be able to publish shit like that about you anymore.”
Harlow stroked his face, running her fingers over the lines of his cheekbones, his jaw, and his lips. “You are wonderful, you know that?”
He turned his face away from her. “I don’t deserve that.” His expression was tortured. “All I’ve ever wanted was to keep you safe, but everything I do gets you hurt somehow. I fucked up your life again.”
It would be so easy to agree with him, to be angry about the ways his status had made him unaware of how differently they would be treated, but he already saw it. He already understood, and she still wanted him. She still wanted to be here, and it seemed a miserable way to go about their relationship to constantly be keeping score on who’d made more mistakes.
With everything they’d already been through, she didn’t want to spend their time together arguing about who’d screwed up the worst. She pulled him down on top of her. “Fuck me up then, McKay. Fuck me up forever.”
“What?” he asked, looking confused.
“Claim me, now. Do what your dad asked and make me yours.”
His brows narrowed with worry, but she felt the effect of her words pressing into the core of her as she wrapped her legs around him. “We don’t know if it’s safe,” he said.
“It’s not safe. It’s never going to be safe. But it’s the key to me shifting—Thea broke the binding on the triptych.”
He sat back, straddling her. She reached for him and he pinned her arms above her head, his head tilting. In the dim light of the cottage bedroom, he looked alien—a beautiful predator, ready to consume his prey.
“Shift,” she urged. “Shift and I’ll tell you.”
His glamour fell away and the creature who caged her body was magnificent, his skin lighting from within. His hard cock pushed between her legs, pressing against her now-throbbing clit through her dress. Six huge wings flexed behind him, enormous as they unfurled from the tight bundle at his back.
“If you Claim me—if we Claim each other—I will be able to shift into the Feriant permanently.”
“How?” he asked.
Harlow shivered at the sound of his true voice. “Think about what Cian told us. My heritage is part Illuminated and part shifter, as well as part witch. When you Claim me, I believe it will trigger something in me that will shift into what I’m truly meant to be. Like a magical chemical reaction.”
He seemed to be thinking. The planes of his face were sharper in his true form, harsher and almost painfully beautiful. “The snakes were biting each other,” he said, finally.
She nodded, rocking her hips a little so that he pushed harder against her. The effect was immediate; she felt him tense, holding all that Ventyr strength back that she wanted inside her, now. “And in the subsequent images, the snakes become one, which breaks the egg, and then the serpent and the raptor exist separately.”
“Become one…” His eyes glowed with desire as it all fell into place for him. He looked down at her, his skin faintly glowing as he met the subtle movement of her hips with his own, creating a delicious tease of friction between them.
“Yes,” she moaned, her back arching off the bed. The word was a plea from the depths of her soul.
He grasped both her wrists in one hand, using the now-free hand to slip under her dress, between her thighs. When his fingers met the silken hair between her legs he moaned. “What are you wearing under here?”
“Nothing,” she whispered, meeting his gaze.
In a flash, he popped every button down the front of her dress, baring her to him completely. His eyes ran over her flesh. Every curve, every dip and fold of her body. He panted with need as he parted her legs wider with his free hand, teasing her with his fingers, dragging them lightly over the sensitive skin of her thighs and then away before giving her what she so clearly wanted.
Her scent filled the air and his fangs protracted as his nostrils flared. His wings went as taut as his cock. Every bit of him seemed prepared to take her but his mind. “You’re sure?” he asked. “It would be hard to take this back.”
He pulled back from her a little, as though he only now noticed that he had her pinned to the bed. In an instant, he freed her hands, seeming to want her to take the lead in this. She understood: there could be no doubt in his mind that she’d chosen this.
Harlow was more than willing to show him just exactly how much she wanted to be Claimed, and to Claim him in return. She raised up, pressing a hand to his chiseled chest, pushing him backwards into a seated position. He moved with fluid grace under her direction as she climbed into his lap, sliding out of her dress as she went.
He adjusted to cradle her as her slick folds slid against his massive erection. She raised her hips, positioning herself above him. As she sank down onto his waiting cock, they stared into one another’s eyes. In this form, his eyes were dark, his irises nearly as black as his pupils.
She lowered herself slowly, letting every ridge of him caress her inside as he stretched her open, and when he could sink no further into her, she began to move, her hips undulating in a steady slow rhythm. He caressed her ass, never taking his eyes from hers as she ground her clit against him. The vibration she loved so much purred inside her, sending electric shivers of pleasure up her spine.
The pressure of his hands increased slowly as she moved faster, giving in to the pent-up passion she’d locked away for the past weeks. She reveled in the way her soft belly and breasts met his hard muscles, letting the intensity of need in his expression drive her. One of his hands slid up her back and into her hair as she neared her peak.
She let her head fall backwards as his fingers fisted into her hair, a primal growl emanating from his throat as she cried out with anticipation. His bite would take her over the edge.
“Claim me, McKay,” she moaned, letting the fervor take her over.
His mouth opened as he drove hard into her, the slick results of the encounter making it easier for him to slide in and out of her. Her back arched as she fell slightly backward in his grip, her hard nipples meeting the cool air of the bedroom as his fangs grew longer. He struck in a serpentine moment, one that turned her into both predator and prey, she wanted it so badly.
The pain was momentary, followed quickly by euphoria that sent her tumbling over the edge into ecstasy. A symphony of limenal shadow and Illuminated light burst to life as he drank from her. Every nerve in her body was more sensitive than it had ever been and she was connected to not only him, but his magic, the golden source of his power, and when it too entered her, she changed.
The Claim between them would not be an unbreakable bond. Its power was to transform, for as his light became hers, so did her shadow become a part of him, and in this exchange, her own canine teeth transformed. She tasted the venom in her mouth, sweet and thick, and her body’s only mission was to complete the transformation—to share it with him.
As his fangs retracted, he licked the twin wounds on her neck, and they closed immediately. He looked up at her face, his expression astounded.
“Goddess,” he breathed.
She looked down at herself, at the way her shadows glowed now with their own dark light. Yes, she was a goddess. Whatever this was between them, it was no less than divinity. She pushed him down onto the bed, straddling him, in a fast, fluid movement which he met with no effort.
“I want to look at you,” he begged. “Let me see you.”
She leaned back as his hands skimmed her hips and ribcage, cupping her breasts. He pinched her nipples, lightly at first, and then harder as she whimpered with pleasure. One hand slid between her breasts and slowly over the gentle curve of her belly and then between her legs to her swollen clit.
She was stretched full of him and as he rubbed her clit, she bent backwards to let him get a better view of the place where their bodies merged. As she did, she felt the jerk of his hips, the increase in his pleasure at seeing her writhe for him, mistress to the power of his cock plunging deep within her again and again.
And then his eyes lifted, and for the first time he saw her new fangs, shining with venom as she cried his name. The fingers rubbing her clit migrated upwards, into her mouth where she tasted herself mingled with her new venom.
“You are magnificent,” he breathed. “Every fucking bit of you.” He thrust hard into her as he dragged her against him. “Claim me.”
The scent of his blood, coursing hard in his veins, spurred her on. As her mouth closed around his neck and her new teeth, purpose-built for this moment, pierced his skin, they came together, their pleasure winding together in what felt as though it might be an endless loop of love and euphoria.
He roared with a ferocity she’d never heard as she pulled his essence into her, from his cock, his blood, his power, his love. They were, in that moment, truly one. She felt when the peak crested and began to fade. Warm, contented bliss came over her, and her fangs retracted. She remembered how he’d licked her wound clean and she did the same, elated at the fact that like her own wound his closed immediately, healed by some unknown power.
