Chapter Five
This time the kiss was sweet, and Tegan opened her mouth for Oliver before he requested it, giving it up just like he wanted. Like she wanted, too. He swept his tongue into her mouth, caressing hers before exploring gently, tasting her, and then touching her tongue again and withdrawing, tacitly inviting her to do as he had just done. Learning, exploring. Inviting her to participate instead of just taking.
She wondered if he’d let down his fangs, but he was experienced in that part of his life. Some vampires enjoyed letting their monster loose after dark. She’d seen it, the messy feeding, the growling and hissing noises, the glowing eyes. All the signs of the terrible vampire of legend. But Oliver’s eyes still glowed a cool blue, his mouth tasted and felt like a mortal’s would, or so she imagined, with no clue to the fangs that hid above his eye teeth.
Heat suffused her, so much that she wanted to shed her clothes here, in the kitchen. She guessed Oliver must have privacy glass, and probably triple glazed, as she could only hear the sound of the busy metropolis outside if she strained and concentrated. So not worth it, when she had this man to concentrate on. This was all strange and new, having a man focused on her this much and giving him permission to do it. She didn’t know what to do.
He did. “Come on. Your deflowering shouldn’t take place in the kitchen.” He led her to the room at the end, but she didn’t get much chance to admire the décor because as soon as he closed the door, he was on her. His hands shook as he grasped her waist and pulled her close, so close that all she could see was him. That was fine by her.
“Are you sure?” She detected anxiety on his face, and for a moment, she felt almost sorry for him. She’d given him a hell of a responsibility.
She nodded. “Why don’t you stay in my mind while we—do it?” Her slight hesitation revealed she didn’t know quite what to call this, although she’d had no problem a moment ago. “Then you can tell.”
He might not realize that although she’d lost the psi part, her mind was still as strictly regulated and locked down as it had ever been, sectioned into neatly labeled compartments. She’d ensure any fear or apprehension was locked away nice and deep. She expected to feel something like that, because she’d only ever felt one man’s hands on and in certain places of her body and that had been her rapist. And they weren’t the obvious places. Her gynecologist had examined her genitals, and she’d had mammograms, so others had touched her breasts. But that spot at the base of her spine and her buttocks, grasped by a man intent on shoving his cock into her body… Oliver would do that, and she had to expect a twinge of the same feeling she’d had then before she could control it and push it away. Because it wasn’t needed here. She trusted Oliver to take care of her, and she’d give herself into his hands—literally—and trust his judgment in this, at least. And more might come. She was prepared for it, anyway.
He gave a short nod, and she felt his presence enter her mind, gently, but there. His power wasn’t half what she’d had, but at least twice that of an ordinary mortal. And since night had come upon them, so had his vampire powers. He could kill her with one touch or take her to the point of death by feeding on her.
One thing made her pause. “I heard that both participants get a real hit out of a vampire feeding during sex.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “I never thought to hear a sweet virgin say that. Another time, maybe. Not tonight. There’s no place for that tonight. Let me lead, sweetness. Let me uncover your body slowly and make you comfortable with mine. Let me touch you, kiss you, make you happy.”
She shivered with anticipation. “That sounds good.”
When his lips touched hers, he didn’t attempt to deepen the first kiss but pressed soft, barely-there kisses to her cheek, her throat, and the hollow at the base. A gust of fresh air told her he’d slid her zipper down a few inches at the back. Her neckline gaped, and he kissed the line where it met her skin.
“Oh!” she murmured, the beauty of the moment swamping her in soft sensation. He came back to her, but her dress, fully unzipped, loosened so she had to lift her arms to keep it in place.
“Let it go,” he murmured against her mouth and took another kiss while she did as he asked and lowered her hands to let the white dress fall in a sliding whoosh to her feet. It was a moment of trust, another dip into her fears. She knew she could trust him, but her body didn’t, and the memories imprinted on it had to be removed and replaced by others. Better ones. Oliver would do that for her. He’d promised, and she believed him.
“Good girl,” he said, making her smile. The soft murmur was the only sound in the room until his kiss, gentle against her skin, there and then gone, replaced by another a little farther down. He peppered her with kisses, across her breasts above the line of her bra, then under, then he knelt and kissed down to her waist, swirling his tongue around her navel. She shivered again, and he laughed, his lips against her quivering skin. “You taste wonderful. Do you use a flavored body lotion by any chance?”
She shook her head no, then said it. “No.” Her voice quavered a little, but she didn’t bother to control it. Likely it would get worse as the evening progressed. She hoped so, anyway.
“Then it’s all you. I think I have to make sure you taste like that all over. Just in case there are any variations.”
She thought he was joking, then she thought she wouldn’t be able to stand for much longer, but his broad back provided a place to put her hand. He hadn’t even taken his suit jacket off. Somehow that seemed mildly perverse and very arousing. The thought of being naked with a fully clothed man, being there just for him to take his pleasure and then walk away if he wanted to turned her on something fierce.
It shouldn’t, but the tide of arousal made every little hair on her body stand on end, prickling against her skin. She’d never felt anything quite like it before, and she reveled in the sensation, absorbing the changes in her body with fascinated concentration. This was the new Tegan, and Oliver was doing an awesome job of introducing her to herself.
His kisses reached the upper edge of her panties, and she felt a fleeting regret that she didn’t have anything fancy for him. She had black, white, and nude colored underwear, all tailored to fit whatever she was wearing on top. None of it was designed for itself alone, none of it bought for appearance, only practicality and comfort. She wanted silk, lace, and even a rosette or two. For him. To make him smile, to make him groan with need.
“That’s good,” he murmured. “Hold on to me. I’m enjoying you too much to stop.” He glanced up, his eyes dark, and she knew it had nothing to do with the vampire in him. Just the man. Desire had darkened those normally pale eyes, making the irises startlingly thin rims to the pupils. He wanted her. She couldn’t see his erection, but surely he could see how her arousal had dampened the pristine whiteness of her panties. She felt the wetness over the tops of her thighs, making her want to close her legs and rub, the reaction instinctive.
He bent and swept his tongue over the places where she ached the most. Then, shockingly, he made a sound of appreciation. “Mmm, that’s good. More spicy here, with a touch of sugar. Should I make you come before I get undressed?” He leaned back and looked up at her again. Their gazes clashed, met with an almost audible hum. “Maybe I won’t take anything off. I could tease you, maybe make you come and leave you to sleep it off. I still have some work to do. Perhaps I should do that and come back later.” He cocked his head to one side, giving her a devastatingly insolent grin. “You think you could wait for it?”
“If—if you need me to.”
“Then I’m not doing my job well enough.”
He returned to his self-appointed task, kissing and licking between her legs, making her more aware of that part of her that throbbed for his attention. If he didn’t do it soon, she’d do it herself. But how? She’d only ever washed herself down there and hadn’t dared to linger. Now she could linger as much as she wanted. And she was about to receive a lesson from the best.
She couldn’t help her small cry as he licked her again, right along the place where her panties met bare skin.
“I need more.” He lifted one hand, so slowly, slid it up her leg from her ankle to her thigh, and then touched, it under the wet fabric, and groaned. “So good. I need you on that bed, Tegan. Naked. Undress for me.”
He stood and faced her, watching her with an intensity that wet her even more. “Do it, Tegan. Strip.”
No good pretending she was at the doctor’s or in her bedroom alone, because she wasn’t and nothing would block him out. He was only in the outer level of her mind, just touching her, sensing, waiting for her to respond, for a flicker of fear. But she felt none. Only delicious excitement. Then a moment of hesitation when she remembered the brand on her breast. It was at the side of her left breast, and because she’d moved as the iron came down, not as central as her attacker had intended. But it was there and she hated it. She didn’t want anything to spoil this moment. She wouldn’t show him.
She reached back and unclipped her bra, the two hooks stiffer than she’d ever found them. But she managed it, thrusting her breasts at him because that was the only way she could reach. But he didn’t take her unspoken invitation. Instead, he took a step back and watched.
Her nipples, already sensitive against her bra, tightened when she slipped the bra straps down her arms and let the garment fall. She didn’t look at him. She daren’t. If she saw any more arousal she might stop, fascinated by the sight.
Next, her thigh highs. Like her vanilla outfit, they were flesh colored, not a sexy black, but he didn’t seem to mind. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, and it turned her on like she wouldn’t have believed. Half turning, she propped her leg up on the bed while she unrolled the delicate silk, not looking at him until she’d done. Then she gave the other the same treatment, but this time, the action opened her pussy a little more, and he could see the flesh under the fabric of her panties. He said nothing, but watched her with an avidity that forced her awareness up another level.
With the flicker of a nervous smile, she dropped the stockings and tucked her thumbs into the sides of her panties, sliding them down and bending to kick them off.
His voice was hoarser when he spoke. “Lie down. Don’t close your legs. Don’t take your attention away from me.”
Oh yes, oh yes. Losing the power to think about anything but Oliver, Tegan pulled back the comforter and lay on the fine white sheet stretched over the bed underneath, careful to keep her arm against that damaged part of her breast.
And at last, he took off his jacket. It fell to the floor with a thump, the sound muffled by the thick, dark blue carpet. Watching her as she was watching him, he removed his tie, sliding the thin strip of dark green silk slowly off, then testing it between his hands, his knuckles gleaming white as he gripped it, then pulled it taut. A slow, wicked smile adorned his mouth. “What do you think? Would you like that? Another time, sweetness. If you want. Only if you want. You look gorgeous, you know that? I hadn’t realized your breasts were quite so plump or your hips so luscious.”
“I have a good personal shopper to make me look slimmer.”
His tongue swept his lower lip. “I’d like to be your personal shopper sometime, but it won’t be plain white bras and panties. Not that it matters. You could have worn sackcloth, and I’d have wanted you exactly the same.”
He dropped the shirt, and she saw of his mouthwatering, perfectly honed torso. The contours of his muscles gleamed under the low light that came on when he bent and swept his hand over a sensor set by the bedhead. Two bedside lights came on, washing the bed with soft white light, and with another sweep, the overhead light went off. “Better. But don’t ask me to turn the light off completely. I want to see you.”
A shiver of fear swept through her before she had time to stop it, but she quelled it and forced it down. Not in time. He paused, his hands on his belt. “You want me to stop?”
“God, no!” The truth, tell him the truth. “He did that.”
He glanced down and saw himself. Swiftly he stripped off the belt and cast it aside. “That better?”
“Yes.” His belt was ordinary, a black leather strip with a small plain silver buckle, but the light had caught it, reminding her of something she hadn’t thought of before. He’d dredged a memory out of her. “My attacker. He stood just like that, with his hands there.”
He fixed her with a gimlet stare before he looked away. “We won’t talk about it now.” He seemed to be reminding himself as much as her. He stripped off his pants and let them fall to the floor.
“Boxers. You’re a boxer man.”
He gave her a cheerful grin. “Never took to the tight ones. I like to let the boys breathe a bit.” Then he peeled his underwear down his legs and removed his socks at the same time. He was as naked as she was.
Shape-shifters often commented on the difference between naked and nude. Naked was everyday, practical, what they did before they shape-shifted so they didn’t wreck their clothes. Nude was intimate. It meant something. Oliver was most definitely nude. And as he watched her, his mouth quirked in a smile. “You can look. You’ve seen a naked man before, right?”
She licked her lips. “Right.” She shouldn’t look, but she wanted to. Of course she’d seen naked men before, but not for long.
She had permission, but she still found it difficult to look. And then she let her eyes do what her brain wanted them to do and dropped her gaze, past the whorls of hair on his chest, following the dark line down to his rampant cock.
The tip glistened with a bead of moisture, and without conscious thought, she licked her lips as she wondered what it tasted like. Perhaps he’d let her find out. His cock was long and thick and luscious. That was the best word she could think of to describe it.
“Oh, you can be sure of that.” His voice, so low it hardly disturbed the air in the room, reminded her he was still in her mind and she was more out of control than she had been for years—than she could ever remember being.
This time his voice came into her mind. I’ll look after you. She must never doubt that, it implied. So she took a deep breath and resolved to push all her doubts away. This was it. How foolish to feel like a teenager at her age. Unsure and so doubtful. Was her body all right? Did she look okay in this position? Had she hidden the hateful brand properly?
“I’m not going to tell you to calm down, because I don’t want you to. I want you wound up tight.” He approached the bed, moving slowly, as if afraid she’d move away. But she didn’t, although all her instincts screamed at her to do it. The training of a lifetime didn’t disappear in one afternoon, and her instinct was still to get out now.
He came closer, bringing his scent and his overwhelming presence. He smelled of that subtle cologne he wore and musky arousal. That was for her.
He bracketed her and planted his arms either side of her. “We won’t stop. Not unless it gets too much, and I’ll know that before you do. But you asked for this, lady, and you’re going to get it.” As he spoke, he was still moving, like a great wild beast creeping up on its prey. Except that its prey was well aware and wanted it. One knee landed on the bed, at the side of her thigh. The other on the other side, and now they both occupied the bed. It brought them that much closer.
Then she saw a gleam in his eyes, reddish, not human. Not mortal, anyway. And she wanted it. “Don’t hide the vampire. It’s part of you. And I’ve seen plenty in my time.” Usually tearing people’s throats out in combat or feeding. Not the best image at this time. Except that feeding could be incredibly sensual.
No, don’t go there.
Too late. “If you want to try that, we will, but not tonight. Tonight, it’s all about your pleasure, but I don’t want to rocket you too high.”
He reached over her into a drawer, and she saw the packet in his hand. Amazement filled her. “You don’t have to use protection. I know vampires can’t get STD’s.”
“There’s an off-chance I’ll make you pregnant.”
“Not very likely, is it?”
He shook his head, a tinge of sadness replacing the fire in his eyes. “Not very.” He opened the packet and knelt up so he could apply the protection. “But this is a lubricated condom and it will help.” He glanced down at her. “I’m honored that you’d take me without.”
“You’re used to mortals.” She bit her lip. Like her.
“Yes, I am. They expect it, and I don’t want to disappoint them. But we’re the only people in this bed and what we want is all that matters. I want to make you happy. I don’t want to cause you pain.”
“So you’ll use lube?”
He raised a brow. “You’re very advanced.”
“I’m thirty-five. I was born and brought up in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Even for someone like me, it’s hard to avoid. Besides, I learned as much as I could. Just in case.” His cock reared above her, dominating her field of vision. She wanted it. She was sure. “Do it, Oliver. Please.”
His smile spread. “Oh, I will. Don’t doubt it. We’re there, Tegan.” He lowered himself so his hands were once more planted either side of her shoulders, then he came down some more, using his forearms to support his body. His pelvis came into contact with hers, and she hissed between her teeth and arched up to him, lifting her knees to cradle him between them. All instinctive. She’d always wondered, if it ever came to this, how awkward she’d be, and the answer was, not at all. It just happened. So she lifted her arms to hold him and his back muscles flexed under her palms.
His cock touched her clit, and she twitched up and away at the sensitivity of it. “Come back,” he murmured, and although she hadn’t gone anywhere, she pushed herself back on to him, letting out a small moan as he touched her. He moved then, lifted his hips and pushed, so his cock slid down her crease, and then up again. He did that a few times, simulating what he would do in a few moments, as he’d promised. Her slick flesh accepted him, drew him in.
The head of his cock touched her opening, and she caught her breath, bit her lip. He touched her lips with his, made her stop biting, soothed the place with his tongue, except that it didn’t feel soothing at all. Not one bit.
“Here we go.” He drew back and watched her. She couldn’t take her gaze away from his, those mesmerizing eyes. Vampires could do that, she knew, but she also knew he wasn’t doing it now. He was just watching her, but fuck, that was enough.
His cock entered her, just a little, and her muscles stretched to accept even that small portion of him. “I should have prepared you with my fingers,” he confessed. “Stretched you to prepare you. But I wanted it to be this. Just this. I’ll go slow, but tell me the minute it hurts. Don’t hide it. Don’t hide anything.”
Uncertainty filled her. “Will it hurt?”
“Not if I can help it.” He dipped his head, pressed a kiss to her lips. His tongue darted into her mouth, but before she could respond with more than a quick touch, he withdrew.
Watching her, he pushed. So steadily, so slowly that it had to be a strain on him. But when she tried to read him, she could sense nothing of the kind. He’d hidden any effort, except he couldn’t hide it in his body. His muscles tightened, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his brow. “It’s hard not to just take you. Drive in and take possession,” he said. “But—I—will—not—do—that.”
She could arch up as she had before and make him, but she respected his decision. This was unknown territory for her, and she had to let him take charge. At least this time.
What he was doing felt good. Her muscles stretched to accommodate him, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Far from it, although the sensation of being split in two wasn’t entirely welcome. Not painful, but a strange feeling. She savored it, took it in, tried to memorize it so she could remember it whenever she wanted to.
She’d never felt so close to anyone in her life before. Never allowed it. Now she wanted it.
He pushed in deeper, slowly, so slowly, and when she thought he’d seated himself inside her completely, he gave her more. “Are you unusually large?” she managed to gasp.
“On the large side, but not unusual,” he said. “Why? Do you want to stop?”
She shook her head vigorously, her hair clinging to the pillow. “No.”
He grinned, teeth gleaming in the low light. Not a sign of fangs, but she saw the gentle bulge above his eye teeth that indicated where they would emerge. It was a sign of his control that she couldn’t see even a point. It gave her the courage to move up toward him. She’d just held herself steady to provide resistance against his steady thrusts, but now she took an active part and moved up, back arching.
Giving a wordless cry, he broke eye contact, clamping his teeth together. “That feels so fucking good.” Strands of his hair clung to his forehead, silent witnesses of the effort he was exerting. But he didn’t let up and continued to push.
Until she realized something was missing. “No hymen.”
“Thank God.” He returned to watching her. “Anyone tell you that you have pretty eyes?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted. “I never believed them. How can eyes be pretty?”
“Oh, believe me, they can. I like yours. Soft, so dark you can’t always see where iris stops and pupil begins. But I can, and you’re nearly all pupil now.”
“In more ways than one.”
Finally, he stopped. “That’s it. I’m in. Can you feel me?”
She gave a shaky laugh. “I can’t feel anything else. It’s—amazing.”
He smiled. “It is, isn’t it? You feel amazing, too. So tight, but it’s like you’re clutching me and you don’t want to let me go.”
“I don’t.”
He moved, and her whole world shifted. Filling her was one thing, but even the slight movement, more of a test than anything else, sent her into a new place, somewhere she hadn’t been before. Did it hurt? Was this ecstasy? Damned if she knew. It could be anything at this stage. Forcing her analytical side down, she concentrated on exploring the feelings he was bringing to her.
Another movement, a little stronger, and then another. She gasped and clutched at him, her hands sliding up his back to grip his shoulders. He smiled and warmed her mind, just a touch, a presence to let her know he was there, monitoring her progress, and she gave herself up to him.
She no longer gave a damn about what to call it. It was good, and she wanted more.
He moved in earnest and executed what she could call a proper thrust. She gasped his name and then, “Oh yes!” but she didn’t close her eyes. She wanted to see this, everything he did. He lifted up onto his hands again and thrust in, pulled out, in again, and she got the rhythm and responded to it.
His turn to gasp. “Fast learner.”
She glanced down, saw his dark pubic hair meet hers, like meeting like, and wondered fleetingly what it would be like if she shaved. If he did.
We can try it if you like.
“Maybe we could. We?”
“I’ve waxed. I’ll go first if you want.”
She laughed and discovered a whole new sensation. It made her twitch, made his cock move inside her, touching a spot that appeared extra sensitive.
“Aha. I think we’ve found it,” he murmured and moved so that he touched the spot with every stroke. And he stroked in earnest, thrust after thrust touched that part of her, and she whimpered, then cried out. “Uh-huh, definitely.”
But she didn’t answer him. She was too far gone for that.
He thrust, then when she had the rhythm, changed it, shallow then deep, with no pattern. She couldn’t predict what he’d do because he kept it from her, must have tucked his intent way down in his mind. Frustration that she couldn’t tell was soon replaced by mindless physical sensation, rising currents of what felt almost like electric shocks. But in a good way. How that could be good eluded her, but she felt it.
“Stop thinking, damn you. Stop fucking thinking and just feel.”
His chest was slick with sweat, his head up as he worked her, the muscles in his biceps clearly evident and hard, tendons popping out.
She wasn’t going to come. She didn’t know how. Should she think erotic thoughts, because she didn’t know any? Except for the sight of Oliver, straining above her, bringing her new sensations with every deep thrust.
That was it. She lost her mind. And gained something else.
Crying his name, her body wrenched up, her muscles clenching around him in deep, hard spasms that drove her crazy.
She came to his triumphant shout, exploded right up to the peak of her mind. For a brief moment everything opened, all her barriers dropped, and she felt him deep inside her. She didn’t think he meant to. It was more as if he’d been standing on earth that had given way. He withdrew as fast as she’d given way, but he’d been there, deeper than anyone else.
She snapped her barriers closed, more a reflex action than anything else.
He poised above her. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” She swallowed. “It felt kind of good to have someone that close. You know everything about me, Oliver. I don’t have to hide. It’s just that—”
“You feel safer that way.” Balancing easily on one hand, he lifted the other and cradled her cheek. So softly, she could have wept. Except there were already tears on her cheeks. He touched his lips to her cheek, then glanced a kiss against her mouth. When she slid her hand around his neck, he willingly deepened the kiss. This time it was luscious, with no urgency. Just enjoyment. He left with a soft caress and sat up, leaving the bed. “Back in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”
She couldn’t have gone anywhere if she’d wanted to, and this was a comfortable bed. Reaching out, she found an edge of comforter and dragged it up, feeling the need for warmth. She heard the toilet flush and realized he was disposing of the condom. Then another rush of water. A bath? If he wanted one, then she supposed he could have one.
She’d think later. Fatigue swept over her in a great wave, and she started to doze off in the most comfortable way.
Only to have the cover dragged away. He hauled her into his arms and the warmth returned when he cradled her against his chest. Jerked out of a drifting dream, she opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her. “Come and bathe. You might feel a bit uncomfortable and this will help.”
“I don’t feel at all uncomfortable,” she protested, but now she was awake, a bath didn’t sound a bad idea.
He didn’t put her down but stepped into a large corner tub already filled and sat, still holding her close. The water welled over her body, and she sighed in contentment. He shifted her so she lay against one shoulder and he had one hand free. He picked at her hair. “I thought it only had one clasp, but you pin it as well.”
She put a hand to her head, dragging out a pin. “Oh, these. I like to be tidy.” She chuckled, still half asleep. “Liked.”
He finished plucking out the pins. “You know you’re adorable when you’re drowsy.” He gazed down at her. “What?”
“Nobody called me that before.” Adorable.
“Nobody?” His eyes widened. “Not even your parents?”
“For the first part of my life, I couldn’t be near anyone except those trained to block everything all the time. There aren’t many of those. By the time I learned to erect my mental barriers, the bond was gone.”
He crooned her name and drew her closer. “Nobody to care for you?”
She gave a short, hard laugh. “Oh, they cared all right. I was important to them. They said I was important to society, especially the Talented part, so I never felt deprived.”
“Did they make you choose the path of the virgin?”
Another hard laugh. “No. They told me what I could have, that’s all. And they were right. They weren’t false promises. I had power, prestige, and the money to support it.” She turned her head and met his hard gaze. “I have enough money to live on for three or four years, and that’s if I live in a hotel and just spend it all. I can go back to the community, and they’ll find me a place. I can train sorcerers to do what I did. They won't turn their backs on me because I don’t have my Talents anymore.”
“But you don’t want to do that.” He said it as if he knew her. Perhaps he did, since he’d entered her fully for that frozen moment when she’d orgasmed.
“No, I don’t.” She kept her voice low, afraid it might tremble if she tried to speak normally. “I can’t do it. It’s cowardice, I know, but I have the choice, and so I won’t do it. I’ll work for G, in some other capacity. There are lots of things I can do.”
“After you’ve taken some time off.”
She shifted, and the hard ridge of her brand rubbed against his chest. She froze, not knowing whether to move closer or keep perfectly still. She didn’t think he’d noticed so far.
“Want to talk about it?”
Fuck, he had noticed after all. No sense hiding it, so she pulled back, letting him look if he wanted to. He did, drawing the flesh gently away so he could see the letter welded there. “The utter fucking bastards. Tell me.” He drew her closer again, and she rested against him.
“They did it after the rape. I have no idea who did it. I was only half-conscious at that point. But the pain brought me back, and that was the last thing I remember before they stunned me. A sharp mental shot and I was gone. Before that, they told me what it was. A W, for whore, they said.”
“Where the fuck did they get a branding iron from?”
She kept her voice steady. She’d been through this part often enough with her therapists. “An old typists’ block. There was a display of them, a kind of artistic creation. So they pulled this one out and heated it up with a blowtorch.” She couldn’t restrain her shudder. “They’d threatened me with the blowtorch earlier, but then they used it. It was him. The one who raped me.”
He lifted his cupped hand and poured warm water over her breasts as if it would heal her.
“I thought of getting cosmetic surgery afterward, but I decided against it. I had too much going on. Now it would be harder.”
“Don’t tell me it doesn’t bother you, because I saw how you tried to hide it.”
She smiled and snuggled in to him. “I didn’t want to spoil the mood.”
He gave a rough laugh. “Oh, believe me, sweetness, almost nothing could have done that. I wanted you something fierce.” He kissed her, taking her with an edge, a touch of ruthlessness she found she liked.
She couldn’t get this close, this fast. She had to remind him of the mission, of the ground between them, that this could only be temporary. Fear made her say, “He did it, you know. Marcus Schofield. He raped me.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t stand up and abandon her. She knew Schofield was Oliver’s best friend. “I want to find out why and how and if. Do me a favor, Tegan.”
“Another one?”
He smiled and kissed her, but both actions were brief. “Keep your mind open. I’ve known Marcus Schofield for a long time, and I’m finding it tough to believe everything. But if I can accept the possibility of him doing it, will you meet me half way?”
For a fleeting moment, she thought he’d brought her here to seduce her and ask her this one question, before reality kicked in. She’d seduced him, and he hadn’t been coerced as far as she knew. He wanted to give his friend a fair hearing. If he hadn't been there, then he wouldn’t have her certainty. He did it. She wasn’t fooled because the first part had happened before—
She moved away, the water splashing over the side of the tub, and grabbed the side, ready to haul herself out. But he grabbed her hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Dashing a hand across her eyes, she shook her head, ridding herself of the tears. “You gave me an orgasm. My second.”
No point leaving now, so she let him pull her back into his arms. “To sorcerers, the true loss of virginity is when the orgasm happens. Orgasm and you could lose everything. They made me—” She broke off, her mouth twisting.
“I know, I know.” He rocked her, soothing her, and strangely, it worked. Strangely because she’d never experienced anything like it before. People who cared enough to hold her.
But she was past tears. “I’ll get over it.”
“I know you will. I plan to help you.”