Prince of Stone (Imperia) Page 12

  Though a virgin, she’d done her research. Maybe a little too much research. She’d read books, both fiction and nonfiction, and watched a ton of porn. But only the classy ones!

  Fine! She’d also watched the ones with excellent plots. And those with no plot. What’s more, she had a mental list of sexual positions she longed to try. Every single position left her vulnerable and at the mercy of her lover. Pinned. Suspended. Tied. She kinda sorta suspected she had the traits of a submissive, but only in bed.

  To Katie, there was just something incredibly sexy about a powerful man taking charge of her pleasure. Not that she would do anything and everything her lover said. No, oh, no. He’d have to work for her capitulation.

  Just the thought caused her mouth to curve in a languid smile, carnal shivers raining down her spine.

  Her phone beeped, a bomb blast in the silence; startled, she nearly screamed. A whole hour had passed, and all she’d done was think? Goodness gracious.

  I should fire myself. And yet, she felt more lighthearted than she had in weeks. Months. Years? Katie grabbed everything she’d need to remove linoleum in the upstairs bathroom. A floor scraper, a chisel, a hammer, a pair of pliers, a utility knife, a putty knife, a flat pry bar and a heat gun. Next up, safety gear. Gloves, knee pads and a clear face mask.

  Two hours later, Jorlan joined her. “I have finished my task,” he said, his pride in his accomplishment evident.

  Only halfway done herself, she removed her mask and focused on him. Someone save me. Her knees went weak. He’d removed his shirt, sweat glistening on his ripped bronzed chest. Multiple scratches marred his arms and abdomen while actual gashes covered his hands. Those sharp-edged rocks had not been kind to him. Dirt streaked his brow. He looked like a primitive mythological god, strong and confident and oh, so tempting.

  Soon, she would have all that strength above her…or behind her…as he surged deep, deep inside her feminine core.

  Her mouth watered.

  “What would you have me do next?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you cut up the bigger pieces of linoleum and stuff them in the trash bag over there?” she suggested, suddenly nervous. “As you work, we can…talk.” Maybe she’d mention the sex thing, maybe she wouldn’t.

  He canted his head to the side, watching her for a protracted moment. Then he said, “I will do exactly as you have suggested.”

  His tone…so satisfied, as if he’d read her mind.

  Wait. Could he? Panic sparked. “Can you read my mind?”

  He frowned. “I wish, but no.” Arching a brow, satisfaction deepening, he said, “However, your enlarged pupils give you away.”

  Stupid pupils!

  As he stacked the linoleum and sat before the pile to cut, she said, “Tell me about your family. And your past. Tell me everything!”

  For a moment, he stared at the wall just above her shoulder, perhaps seeing through the obstacle, through the passage of time and galaxies to his “other” life.

  “My father, Gui en Sarr, was once the great lord of Imperia.”

  “What’s a Great Lord?”

  “The equivalent of a king.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. Your father was a king?” Well. No wonder Jorlan expected his every command to be instantly obeyed. He was freaking royalty.

  “Aye, but the throne will never be mine.”

  “Because it belongs to your older brother?”

  “Nay. Where I am from, the eldest son does not always inherit his father’s title. Anyone, from any family, any land, may be selected.”

  Her brow puckered with confusion. “Does the father choose who will inherit before he dies? What if the father died suddenly, before he’d chosen?”

  “A great lord isn’t chosen by a human at all, but by the Kyi en Tra Crystal,” he explained. “Upon the death of a great lord, the crystal summons specific males. Usually a hundred or so. The males who heed the summons journey to the palace to touch the ancient stone, for whoever causes the crystal to burn bright with crimson becomes the one true king until his death.”

  She could just imagine the impatient hopefuls standing in line, waiting for their turn with the stone. “So you didn’t give the crystal color?”

  He chuckled. “Do not look so sad for me, katya. My uncle, Challann, took the throne upon my father’s death. He is a good and just man. The people adore him, as did—do—I. I often wonder if he still lives.”

  A pang lanced through her chest. He’d been without his family for so long. Too long. “You would have made a spectacular king, I know it.”

  A negligent shrug lifted his shoulders. “The people would not agree with you. A great lord must wield control in all ways, yet I have always struggled with my magic.”

  Using the scraper on a strip of dried glue, she said, “The magic thing bothers you.”

  “Aye. I inadvertently blow things up, and I don’t know why. No one knows why.” He shrugged again. “In Imperia, I may not be a great lord, but I am a man of consequence, a warrior of great ability and strength. Here I am only a man who must rely on a woman to see to my needs.”

  Ahh. The circumstances must eat away at his pride.

  Stretching out her long legs, Katie kneaded the muscles in her lower back then leaned against the wall. Cool tile seeped through the thin material of her shirt. “What was your favorite thing to do in Imperia? Besides bedding all the subservient wenches, that is.”

  “Training with my army.”

  Yeah, that would have been Katie’s favorite thing, too. Not the training, but watching the training. Hello, beefcake.

  “If you return and there’s an awful king in power, could you challenge him for the crown,” she asked, “even without the crystal’s approval?”

  “I could kill him, aye, but I could not take the throne. No one would serve me.” How sad he looked.

  He wanted to be king; she’d bet her last dollar on it. “Have you ever thought about, oh, I don’t know, staying here in Texas and starting your own royal family here?” She asked the question with zero inflection in her voice, while she pretended to toy with a power tool. Meanwhile, her heart raced.

  “I haven’t…until today.”

  * * *

  HOPE SHIMMERED IN Katie’s gaze, warming Jorlan. She wanted him to stay! Oh, she hadn’t admitted it aloud or anything like that, but that was okay. The desire shone in her eyes.

  He had stepped inside this chamber, certain he would face another rejection, another disappointment. Instead, they’d continued sharing details about their lives, a bond solidifying between them. A tentative bond they’d created with their kiss.

  “Tell me about your brother,” she said, veering toward a safer topic.

  He let her do it—for now. “Percen is the most powerful sorcerer in Imperia, which is why he leads the Druinn.” Percen… His image flashed in Jorlan’s mind. They were the same height, possessed the same black hair and blue eyes. That was where their similarities ended.

  A wealth of facial scars caused Percen’s left eye to droop lower than the right. His nose was bent at an odd angle, his body broken and twisted. Injuries he’d received as a child, when he’d saved Jorlan from a fire in the stables. They’d decided to ride in the middle of the night, had snuck out of the palace. Jorlan accidentally knocked over a torch and within minutes, the flames had spread into an inferno.

  Jorlan had rushed around, doing everything in his power to save the animals. A wood beam engulfed in flames had fallen on him, pinning him in place. Percen had used every drop of his magic to free and heal Jorlan and passed out. Jorlan managed to drag him to safety, and tried using his magic to heal his brother.

  He caused permanent damage instead.

  Guilt and shame rose like a tide inside him. He’d loved the boy, and he’d ruined his life.

  Next had come their father’s death, then their mother’s move.

  He told the story to Katie, taking comfort in her reactions. Soft puffs of air. Watering eyes. Sniffles. A
hand pressed over her head.

  “You were a child, and probably frantic,” she said, “yet it’s obvious you still blame yourself for something you did in the heat of a moment.”

  “I do blame myself. As I should. Because even then, I knew better. I should have fetched our mother, or another sorcerer.”

  “If Percen’s magic had caused permanent damage in you, would you have forgiven him?”

  “Of course,” he offered without hesitation.

  “So why can’t you forgive yourself?”

  He had no answer for her, so he continued with the story. “On the eve of my eighth span, I missed Percen so much, I decided to visit the Druinn without our mother’s permission. She’d been too busy planning some kind of celebration to notice when I snuck away from the palace. For three hours I traveled, imagining the blessed reunion with every step. How Percen’s face would light with happiness, how he would take me in his arms and swing me around with joyful abandon.”

  Then Jorlan entered the white sands of the Druinn.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Instead of happiness, Percen evinced a dark cloud of hatred. He pushed, kicked and ridiculed me in front of the other Druinn, even spit in my face.”

  Jorlan had left then, and had never gone back, because he hadn’t wanted to cause his brother any more distress.

  “I’m sorry, Jorlan. That must have hurt terribly,” Katie said, sympathy thickening her voice. “You both lost so much.”

  Loss he knew Katie understood. “When did you lose your mother?”

  “Shortly after my ninth birthday.” Trembling, she wiped away a single tear with the back of her hand. “I still miss her. I don’t know what I would have done if she’d left me willingly.”

  That Katie could hurt for someone she’d never met—no matter that the person was his greatest enemy—touched Jorlan to the very core of his being. Not many people developed and embraced their empathic side in such a way. While his Katie strove for a hard, warriorlike demeanor, she possessed the soft, caring heart of a woman.

  The rest of the world faded. He longed to explore this side of her.

  Her lips began moving again, words escaping, but he missed them all. You’re staring at her lips, those lush pink lips. Stop.

  Images filled his mind. Katie, sucking his shaft like candy, her pale hair spilling over his legs. Need uncurled inside him, reminding him of a lion awakening from an afternoon nap. His muscles clenched. If he did not distract himself soon…now…he would be ripping off her clothes.

  “Tell me more about your life,” he barked.

  She frowned and tilted her head to the side, studying him. Whatever she saw caused her gaze to heat. A slow, seductive smile nearly stopped his heart.

  What had provoked this change in her? What thoughts consumed her beautiful mind?

  After maneuvering to her hands and knees she crawled toward him. He expected her to stop halfway…she kept going. Expected her to stop out of range…she kept going. He did not expect her to stop directly in front of him and brush her nose against his…but she did, and he hardened in an instant.

  “I was born November 16,” she said. “Blue is now my favorite color, and when I die, I want it to be from pleasure.” That said, she slanted her mouth over his and sucked on his tongue.

  He jolted, then he groaned and took charge, rolling his tongue against her.

  When she eased back, severing contact, he wanted to howl. But she wasn’t done with him. As she licked the seam of his mouth, he shackled his arms around her and yanked her closer.

  Problem was, he could not get her close enough.

  “What brought this on?” he asked, only somewhat embarrassed by his breathless tone.

  Eyes downcast, long lashes leaving shadows on the rise of her cheekbones, she said, “I just…I see how hard you’re trying. You’re getting to know me and helping me get to know you. More than that, you’ve stopped treating me like a second-class citizen. And you’re hot.”

  * * *

  KATIE’S HEART FLUTTERED as Jorlan’s features brightened.

  “Do you want me to give you another kiss?” So badly she wanted to get naked with Jorlan. She couldn’t think of anything else, could only feel. Leaning into him, she pressed her body more fully against his. Her nipples hardened, as if reaching for him.

  “Nay,” he breathed.

  “Good because—” Wait. What? “Nay?” She’d finally relented, and he didn’t want her anymore?

  “This time,” he said, “I want to do it to you.”

  Ohh. As she sagged with relief, he licked her lips, a thorough tasting. She twined her fingers in his hair, gasping when he shifted to nibble on her earlobe. “I want more.” I need more. “But just one more kiss,” she whispered, recalling where they were. “One kiss and then we’ll stop. Later, we can maybe, possibly—” hopefully “—start again. If you want, I mean.”

  “I want you now. I will want you later. I will want you tomorrow and the day after.”

  Wait again. Was Jorlan maybe…falling for her?

  She remembered entertaining a desire to win his heart, but by morning, she’d basically discarded the idea. Part of her hadn’t believed it possible.

  “I will give you one kiss, just as you asked,” he rasped. “Do not worry if it lasts several hours.”

  Before she had a chance to reply, he reclaimed her mouth. With a mewl of pleasure, she opened for him.

  With every flick and foray of his tongue, desire punched her. Tremors rocked her, a savage hunger overtook her. Stars twinkled behind her eyelids.

  He kissed her with passion. He kissed her with heat and ferocity. He kissed her, and he owned her.

  While the first meeting of lips had been fiery and wonderful, this kiss was a soul-searing, erotic dream. It made up for every second date she’d ever missed, every time she’d cried over a rejection and every night she’d spent alone, wishing for someone, anyone, to love her.

  Lost in his sandalwood scent, his irresistible body, his everything, she reveled. She luxuriated. Had others ever experienced such bliss? The kind movies and books lauded, because it eclipsed reason and time.

  How sad if they had not.

  She raked her nails over Jorlan’s muscled chest. His skin burned hot, so hot. He moaned into her mouth, the erotic sound as potent as a caress. With a push, she urged him to lie flat on his back. As soon as he complied, she braced her knees at his sides, spreading her legs wide, and arched her hips. Her core rubbed against his erection, sending a lance of sensation careening through her entire body.

  “Aye, just like that,” he praised. “Again, katya.”

  Getting drunk on pleasure, on Jorlan, she arched once more. Then again. A ragged moan slipped from her.

  He tumbled her over, pressing his bulging length between her open thighs. Mmm. Yes! In the new position, his weight pinned her to the floor. Never want this to end!

  He trailed kisses of fire along her cheek. Swirled his tongue around her ear. Had he stripped her naked just then and plunged into her drenched channel, she would not have protested.

  No, she would have thanked him.

  I think…I think this is the wild, wanton woman I’ve always longed to be. Never had she felt more alive or free.

  Lifting his head, gazing down at her with eyes of smoldering blue, he reached under her shirt, kneaded her breast, and must have decided the contact wasn’t enough. He shoved her bra up, strummed one of her nipples. She cried out, the pleasure too much, too much, but also somehow not enough. Then, suddenly, he froze, his growl echoing loud and long off the walls.

  “We should stop.” Tension etched his features. “You had your one kiss, and I hover at the edge of my control.”

  No, no, no. “Just one more. Please.” She tightened her grip on him, achy, needy. “If you want to build up your control, you’ve got to exercise it. You know, push it over the edge.”

  He tangled his fingers in her hair and fisted the strands. Something he’d done
before and dang, she loved it more each time. “You are sure?”

  Ugh. Why were they still talking? “Beyond sure. Please.”

  “What my katya wants, my katya gets.” Once again, he slanted his mouth over her, the silky heat of his tongue dancing with hers. He worked his hands over her body, learning every curve, teasing and tempting her. “Who controls your desires, katya?”

  You! “Me, myself and I, of course,” she whispered raggedly.

  “Are you sure about that?” His big hands closed over her breasts. Intense pleasure rocked through her.

  “Yes! No. I don’t know anymore.”

  “Then you require a demonstration.” He pinched her nipple at the exact moment he thrust his erection against her clitoris. Once, twice. Again and again. Their clothes added to the friction.

  Pressure built inside her; her cells acted as kindling, turning her blood to lava.

  “I’m…I’m…Jorlan!” She shot off like a Fourth of July rocket, her moans morphing into wild cries, finally reaching a crescendo.

  When she quieted and sagged against the floor, Jorlan rolled to his side and cradled her against him. His shallow breaths came quickly, fanning her ear. “Katie,” he said softly, “you have already—”

  “I know,” she said between panting breaths. “I’m sorry.” How embarrassing. She ducked her head into the hollow of his neck, her cheeks burning. While he was primed and ready, she was done. But dang it, she hadn’t been able to stop it. She hadn’t wanted to stop it.

  My first orgasm with a partner.

  Going to need one of those every single day!

  “Do not apologize.” He seemed to push the words through an obstacle course, his tone gruff but reverent. “Simply do it again.”

  A smile bloomed. “Again? Really?”

  “Most definitely. A single example means nothing. You require a second to prove who controls your desires.” His rolled atop her once again, and claimed her lips in another sizzling kiss.