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This wouldn’t take long. He was worked up and she was ready again, her body trembling, the fire of the potion gripping the core of her. She clenched around him, stroking him, savoring the feel of him deep inside.
As he started pumping into her, she closed her eyes and eased back on the bed, letting her arms slide over his shoulders. She focused on the beautiful sensation of being taken by him. There were many sexual pleasures, but this one, of having what was most essentially male driving into her, affected her the most, not just physically but emotionally. Her chest filled with an ache she couldn’t explain but which grew more profound the longer he pumped into her.
Havily, he sent. I want in. Now.
She could feel his mind press against her mental shields. Her body was on fire again, but this was different, this would change things. Adrenaline joined the mix and though she felt like she should tell him no, she couldn’t resist. She wanted Marcus in her head, taking her in deep mind-engagement, one more step along the path to full communion.
Yes, she whispered, and the last of her reserves fled as he entered her mind.
Marcus was so powerful that when his mind moved inside hers, she was at first overwhelmed by his presence. He groaned and his hips jerked against her. He dove through her thoughts and her memories. Her body responded, the pleasure she had felt turning from a solid blaze into an enormous bonfire. His presence in her mind, the fire in her br**sts, and the deep pleasure between her legs converged. She was all arms and legs, stroking, holding, hugging, wrapping, and undulating under him until his hips moved faster.
With her legs, she locked him against her, arched her back, and screamed as he pushed her once more over the edge. He joined her, also arching back, pulling away and shouting his release.
Oh. God. Pleasure barreled through her up and up until even her chest was filled with ecstasy. She screamed again and then his mouth was on hers as he pumped the last few bits of his seed into her, his harsh breaths battling her own deep pants.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered against his lips. Her body was locked around his, her legs entwined and holding him seated against her, both her arms snaked around him, one surrounding his back, the other his neck, her fingers trapped in his hair.
He lay on her, breathing hard, his mouth on her neck.
“Havily. Havily,” he said against her skin. He kissed her and she smiled, her head falling from one side to the next and back. His kisses followed. She was so happy, glowing, content, and he was still inside her head. She could feel him, a warm comforting presence.
For the first time in fifteen years, since Eric died, she didn’t feel alone. She smiled at the ceiling and sucked in more much-needed air. Her shoulders relaxed and her legs finally released him but she hoped he would remain inside her, both his mind and his cock. She didn’t want this moment to end, not now, not yet, maybe not ever.
Oh. God.
* * *
Marcus was in trouble.
He knew that now. He hadn’t gotten it before, but reality was starting to sink in.
He’d been inside Havily’s mind and though it was impossible to see everything about a person in a single mind-penetration, he had seen her, really seen her, the depth of her, even though she pretended not to have depth, the kindness of her, though she could take what was dealt her, the breadth of her ability to love, though she kept her emotions tight, controlled, remote.
Yeah, her ability to love swamped him, not that she was loving him right now but that she had such profound capacity, and he yearned for that as though he’d never had a yearning before. He wanted her love, now and forever.
He dipped his arms beneath her back and held her to him, wanting that heart of hers to press against his chest and slide inside. Then he drew back, his arms as well. He put his lips to hers and kissed her. He kissed her, full-bodied kisses, his tongue dipping and tasting, reaching her, the depth of her.
He kept kissing her until her body once more moved and undulated. He hadn’t meant to suggest that he make love to her again, but he was still connected and when her hips moved and created more friction he was ready with just a few strokes. This time he kept his connection to her mouth until she was moaning once more. He was still inside her mind. I want you, Havily, all of you, he sent.
You have me returned.
He didn’t have her, though, at least not yet. But somehow making love to her made him want her as he hadn’t wanted a woman in over a millennia. He felt anxious in the midst of the pleasuring and connection. With so much flowing between them, with the taking of her mind, just how easy was it going to be, once he’d made her safe on Second, to step away from her and let her live her life without him?
His heart seized and he forced the difficult thoughts away. She was here, she was his now. He never broke the connection of his mouth to her mouth or his mind to her mind. He just kept working his hips, moving against her in strong pulses, pushing then drawing back.
You’re mine.
I’m yours.
He sped up, and he took her again. He took her until she was screaming at the ceiling, pinning her legs around his hips, again and again and again.
What is age,
But a state of mind.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
Chapter 15
Parisa was a very wicked woman.
She sat barefoot on the bottom step of the stairs that led corkscrew fashion up to the turret room. She had been in the second-story room for half an hour then decided to come downstairs to fix something to eat.
She’d gotten as far as the bottom step when she’d heard the throaty cries from all the way down the hall. If she hadn’t known who was in the house, or if she hadn’t already slept in the room opposite Havily and Marcus, she might have wondered if a crime was being committed.
The trouble was, she had finally come to understand the nature of the power she possessed, a power that allowed her to see what others were doing.
When she had told Havily about her visions, that they most often if not always involved Warrior Medichi, she had believed they were connected to him.
Not so. In the past few minutes of having focused on the activity in the southern part of the house, she had opened a sort of window to the events in Marcus and Havily’s room, and she had watched the lovemaking like a voyeur, like one who prowls outside windows at night and looks in to see what’s going on. Only it wasn’t nighttime and she wasn’t outside a window.
And yet she could see into the couple’s room as surely as she could see the planked floor beneath her feet. Even now, she watched Marcus and Havily and she just couldn’t seem to look away.
