Midnight Warriors - Parallel Attraction Part 28

"Hmm?" she asked dreamily, grinding her hips against the mattress with pure desire for him.

He halted his explorations and kept her pinned beneath him, panting against her back breathlessly. "Time... to let me... see," he cried, moaning softly as his fingers pulled at the skin he'd been showering with kisses one moment before.

A thrill shot through her center. She got it now. Jared was crazily turned on by the presence of his royal emblem on her-and that it was in precisely the place she'd longed to have it.

"How do you, well, see it? The royal mark?" she asked, turning her head sideways so that her cheek rested against the mattress. She studied him through her lashes. He hadn't even stripped out of his

uniform. A black-clad soldier had her facedown on his mattress and was licking her to pieces.

He stood there at the mattress edge gazing down at her, cupping her bottom in both his hands. "You amaze me, Kelsey," he whispered in a wondrous voice.

"Is the mark showing already?"

"Always so curious. One of many things I love about you, wife." He laughed.

"Well, is it?" she persisted, and he pressed one knee into the mattress, never relinquis.h.i.+ng his hold on her

hips.

"Not until I bring it to light," he purred in a voice electric with promise. "It wasn't revealed during the ceremony-only placed on your body. But it's been there ever since, simply waiting for me to reveal it."

"Then do that," she urged him breathlessly, aching for him to proceed. "Go on, Jared. Please." She didn't

care that she was practically begging the man; he was her husband, after all. Surely a little bedroom

begging was a given in any marriage.

His fingertips trailed down her backbone, touching her with fire. Carefully, painstaking in his slowness, he stroked her bare skin. "I thought I was fulfilling your fantasy."

She squirmed as he bent low, pressing his full, warm lips against the small of her back. She felt the rough

texture of his tongue flick against her body yet again."The first part of my fantasy was for you to lick it, kiss it, and whatever-else it." She gasped, squirmingbeneath him. "The second part was to know exactly how it affected you."

A low, rumbling growl erupted from his chest, and she felt his heat sweep over her bare skin as he cupped his palm over her lower back. The growling became a piercing howl, and then all she heard was his harsh breathing as he pinned her, facedown against the mattress again. "It is true," he rumbled in her ear, lapping at her cheek with his tongue. "You are all mine now. No one shall ever take you from me.

Mine. Mine. Mine."

Oh, how he loved to possess her-she'd known that from the very first time they made love.

"I can't pretend anymore, Kelsey," he continued, kissing her behind her ear, slipping both of his palms beneath her hips and holding fast. "I love this belonging. It makes me half-crazy; truly it does."

She smiled to herself. He had no idea yet, did he? Her smile broadened as she wondered how long it

would take her husband to recognize the beautiful change that had begun in him not even twenty-four hours ago.

"I love it too," she agreed huskily.

"I don't love this uniform," he complained, easing off of her.

"Hey, I have a question," she said. It was something she'd wondered about in the midst of their ceremony. "What would you have worn if we'd gotten married on Refaria?"

She heard the low rumble of s.e.xy laughter. "Not a military uniform; that's for sure."

"Then what? Tell me."

"No," he said in a slow, seductive voice, "I believe I'll show you."

When she rolled onto her back to get a better look at him, she gasped. Jared stood before her clad in skintight leather pants that outlined his muscled thighs like a second skin. As he moved toward her, the black pants hugged every ridge and furrow and dip in his very masculine body. A white s.h.i.+rt was laced from his navel to the middle of his chest, where it fell open to expose the golden-brown skin there, hinting at the dark peaks of his nipples, just visible through the thin white cotton of the fabric.

"Th-that's your traditional wedding outfit?"

One dark eyebrow shot upward in question. "Would you have preferred a tuxedo?"

She stretched on her back languidly, watching him step closer. "Not on your life."

He laughed softly. "Perhaps I should have worn this and not the uniform?"

"I would have expired during the ceremony. Besides, I could never have competed with"-she paused, swoos.h.i.+ng her hand in the air-"well, with that."

"No, love, you would have held the room in your hand, just as you did today," he said. "Now roll over."

"That sounded like a command."

"It was."

She sniffed, but grinned wickedly to herself as she flipped over onto her stomach again. She felt his warm hand against the skin of her back, his fingers roaming and exploring-almost as if he were searching for something. His leather-clad legs pressed between hers, parting her thighs as he climbed onto the bed, all the while his fingertips were caressing and stroking the small of her back until he made a soft cry of exultation. "There it is," he said, his voice full of hushed amazement. "Oh, G.o.ds, you're beautiful."

The skin beneath his hand began to burn, an explosion of fevered fireworks all along her skin. The sensation was at once erotic and wicked as much as it was majestic. She was marked forever as a D'Aravni.

Brus.h.i.+ng his lips against her spine he breathed, "Mine. Incredible."

"I want to see."

"Later. But right now..." he paused, swallowing audibly. "I-I just want to look. Besides, I still have that gift for you."

"And I still wonder what it is." She felt something warm and solid press into her back, right where she'd been sealed with his royal mark, almost like a heavy, warm stone or coin. "Is that your strake stone? I already know-"

"I'm giving it to you. Really giving it to you, this time." She felt him remove it from her back, and he pinned her beneath the full length of his hard body. "Only it's more now."

"How could it be more?" It took effort, but she managed to roll over until she found herself staring up into his dusky eyes. He hovered atop her, bracing himself with his forearms to keep from flattening her with the full weight of his body. Without a word, and without ever dropping his gaze, he reached for her hand and slid his strake into her open palm, slowly closing her fingers around it. She drew the stone against her face, awed by the hush that had settled over the two of them. This moment meant far more than the giving of a simple gift; she knew it as surely as she knew the Refarian heart beating heavily against her own. She knew it just as she recognized that something fundamental had changed within her during their ceremony earlier today.

She knew it because of the way her husband's unwavering gaze fixed on her, his near-black eyes blazing like midnight suns.

"Look at it," he breathed, and she slowly opened her hand that held the stone. "I-I had it set for you," he continued. She'd noticed before that he stammered slightly when he was filled with emotion; perhaps because his facility with English became less precise when he was overcome with feeling; she wasn't sure. She gazed into her palm, and gleaming there was a golden ring. Not the kind you wore on your finger, but the strake now resided in the center of a polished golden circle attached to a delicate chain, its obvious power practically setting the golden band afire like an amulet. She'd not imagined it possible for the ebony stone to become even more beautiful, and yet offset against the bright golden circle, it seemed somehow newly radiant and mystical. "It's like a wedding band?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yes, love, and it's also a symbol of where it once resided. It came from my father's crown, you see, and it was the only jewel smuggled out of the palace that ties me- well, us, now-to our rightful position. It's an emblem of everything we fight for as a people, and all that we believe in for restoration. I wanted you to have it."

She pressed it to her lips, tears burning behind her eyelids. "I don't know what to say."

"My wife, dumbstruck? I shall mark the date," he teased, but his eyes narrowed with extreme emotion and pleasure.

"Why did you choose a ring? I mean, I get that it's like my wedding band, but-"

"The ring is a crucial icon to my people. It signifies the cyclical nature of our life, the triumph of good, our rhythms with the universe. Like water-water is very critical to my people as well. It's not just for sustenance or survival; it's considered arousing to my kind."

"Water? No way!" Immediately her mind supplied many very wicked ideas about seducing her new husband in the shower. No wonder he'd been so hot and bothered in the bathtub last night!

She stared down at the strake again and noticed something that she'd not caught on first glance. "It's inscribed. Is it English?" She couldn't tell in the semidark of his room.

"Yes, just like your ring." He hadn't told her that her ring bore an inscription either. "It's Shakespeare. A sonnet that means a great deal to me, actually-"

"The one you quoted last night," she whispered, realization dawning. "You had it inscribed inside my ring and in this pendant."

He closed his eyes, blus.h.i.+ng slightly for reasons she didn't fully comprehend, reciting the poem to her: " 'For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings-that then I scorn to change my state with kings.'" He opened his eyes and slowly began to link the gold chain around her neck, the stone and ring dangling from the end of it, and continued. "I-I wanted to mark our day with something permanent. Beautiful. Something from your culture."

"You don't have a ring from me."

"It's not our way to wear one," he explained. "Only males of our species give them."

"Hmm, I could get used to a culture where the men are expected to drape their women with jewels. Not bad, Bennett."

"Could you get used to a culture where men are meant to make love to their wives all day long?"

"Aha! You held out on me. Now the truth is revealed."

"True, true. We're actually a pleasure race. It's all we do, in fact." He laughed huskily, dipping low to kiss her breastbone right where the strake rested. "Make love, give jewelry, eat, and drink. It's quite the thing, you see. Now you understand why it was imperative that I take a mate."

"I'm glad you did," she whispered softly. She stroked his bristling black hair, feeling the give and play of it beneath her hand. For a long moment he rested his head against her breast, the two of them lying quietly together.

"I'm dying of curiosity," he suddenly p.r.o.nounced, pus.h.i.+ng up off the bed.

"About what?"

"About making love to a woman," he said seriously, "who bears the mark of D'Aravni on her bottom."

"It is not on my bottom!" she protested.

"Almost." He laughed, stepping across the room, where he shrugged out of the soft cotton s.h.i.+rt he wore, revealing the ripples of his abdomen and the hard planes of his muscled chest. She lay on her back, watching his catlike grace, and felt warm heat swirl in her body. Pressing her eyes closed, she allowed the sensations to crescendo, her abdomen knotting with waves of desire.

She heard the unsnapping of b.u.t.tons and the soft rustling of discarded clothing. Still she kept her eyes closed, savoring her husband's energy as it pulsed across her skin, sang through her body, infused every bit of her soul.

Then he was atop her again, the bed yielding beneath the weight of his lean body. But he was gentle with her, oh, so gentle, whispering soft Refarian words in her ear, words that she recognized even if she didn't understand them. They caused her soul to thrum with need for her mate; they caused her whole body to tense like a musical string that only he could pluck.

"Jared," she purred in his ear, repeating his name over and over again. She ached to make him know the depth of her feelings in his own language. With one graceful movement, he rolled with her, and she found herself atop him.

"Call me J'Areshkadau," he urged, grasping her hips within his palms and steadying her atop him. "Please." His voice quavered slightly with the request.

She smiled, pus.h.i.+ng up so she could stare into his eyes. "Please?"

"I-I long for it," he admitted, blinking up at her, then moaned something in Refarian before adding, "It is difficult... to express."

That was when it hit her-all this time, she'd been calling him Jared Bennett, which was really only a sort of nickname, or a false name-not his true one. It was such an easy gift to give her mate on their wedding day! She bent down until her lips brushed against his left ear, and blew out a husky, arousing breath, kissing him lightly on the cheek. And then she waited. She waited and drew the moment out-and hesitated just enough to cause him to rumble his desire back against her cheek.

Only then did she whisper, "I love you, J'Areshkadau. I think I always have."

These words seemed to awaken her alien husband completely, and he began to tumble with her on the bed amidst a tangle of covers and discarded clothing, until after a moment's l.u.s.tful tussling, he emerged atop her once again. She lay bucking beneath him, and he gave her a wicked grin of satisfaction. He'd pinned her like any creature would its chosen mate, as if he'd bounded upon her in the wild and simply determined to take her.

"I wish to have you now." He panted breathlessly, kissing her full on the mouth, and then with a playful nuzzle of her cheek added, "And-of course-for you to have me."

"The king wishes it?" she teased.

He bowed his head against hers, and in a voice filled with emotion whispered, "I wish it very much."

She cupped his face within her palms, drawing it upward until their eyes locked, and said, "J'Areshkadau, I can't deny you anything. All you ever have to do is ask."

With that, he thrust into her with a joyous, s.h.i.+vering yelp of pleasure, bathing her with kisses drawn from the very heart of the man's soul.

Long into that night they made love, stroking and caressing every inch of each other's bodies. Sometimes they paused at the pure joy of discovering some hitherto unnoticed aspect of the other, perhaps a freckle or scar or luscious curve-sometimes they stopped because they needed to rest. Never did they stop because their souls required it. No, their souls touched until there no longer seemed a separation, until they wept in each other's arms at the mystical connection possible between two alien hearts such as theirs.

Never did they stop to notice the world around them, for if they had, then surely they would have discovered an envelope-a plain envelope, extraordinary only for its appearance seemingly from nowhere-that lay on the other side of the room waiting for them. For if they'd noticed it, they would have seen that in scrawling, nearly indecipherable handwriting the envelope read: My dearest Jared and Kelsey...