Vernal Page 17

  “Now that you know I am your protector we—,” I start.

  “It’s striking,” she whispers under her breath.

  I look around in confusion. “What is?”

  “Your protector tattoo. The one that carries my blood.”

  I stare blankly at her face. This is a dangerous game that she’s playing. If she were to touch it—touch me—game over.

  The lump in my throat is getting heavier with the weight of her look. We hold one another’s eyes for a long moment before she slowly takes a step toward me.

  I lift a hand to stop her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “It just isn’t,” I say defensively.

  She ignores me and keeps advancing. The mark draws her to me, and for the first time ever in my life, I’m nervous.

  Holding my gaze, her fingertips hover over my chest.

  “Serena,” I warn.

  Her hesitation is fleeting. She slowly reaches out, and lightly her fingertips trace the mark covering my heart.

  The two lions are designed in a black barbed-wire pattern and make a yin-yang symbol.

  The mark pulsates with every touch, and the blood it’s infused with—her blood—rises in recognition of her.

  I grit my teeth. “Every assigned protector has one.”

  “You carry the lion spirit,” she states.

  “The Paris clan does. Gage is my father,” I heave out.

  She continues to run her fingers over the maze pattern and my world tilts. My heart lifts to greet her touch.

  I shiver.

  “Are you cold?” she asks, in barely a whisper.

  “Irritated,” I respond through a clenched jaw, because her touch is causing my body to hum with the primal urge to claim her. A side effect of the bond we now share. That’s all it is, right?

  The palm of her other hand flattens on my lower stomach, and every muscle under her warmth jumps to life.

  Her eyes snap to mine. “What does it feel like?”

  I swallow. “What does what feel like?”

  “Our bond?”

  I lick my lips. “It’s suffocating—until I see you and can breathe. It’s darkness—until your light breaks through. It’s the lowest low—until you make me feel the highest high. It makes me want to walk through fire and fight for you. Save you and protect you. It allows me to feel you in my bones, in every crevice of my heart, and in every breath I take.”

  Without awareness of what I’m doing, my hands find their way to either side of her head, entangling and burying my fingers within the damp strands.

  “Stop,” I beg.

  Her eyes slide closed. “I break rules, Tristan; I don’t follow them. So don’t bother imposing any on me. As for the bond, I can handle myself. I’ll listen to you. Respect you. I’ll allow for your protection, but I won’t let you treat me like just another assignment. You carry my blood with you—in you—and that makes you both weak and strong. You need me to protect you as much as I need you.” She presents me with a sad smile. “See, you and I are meant to be together. Suck it up.”

  Tristan

  I STUDY HER MOUTH AS THE words glide out. Are we? Meant to be? Perhaps in another lifetime she’d be right, but in this one, it’s simply not possible. I remind myself it’s just the bond talking. Nothing more.

  Serena directs her glare at me and I realize I still have her head between my hands. I release her and try to take a step back. I need space to clear the fog her presence always seems to conjure up.

  By the look on her face, I can tell she’s having none of it. Her hand flattens over the protector mark, bringing it completely to life and causing a fire to roar through my veins. In an instant, I pull her against my body and crash my mouth onto hers, all before she can even blink an eye.

  She breathes in every exhale I release. My mouth works against hers. Hard. Demanding. My hands fist into her hair, tugging dominantly so that she’ll comply with my need to tilt her head upward as I nip at her lips.

  Her hands slide up, snaking around my neck.

  “Serena—” I growl.

  “Don’t speak,” she demands, finding my mouth again.

  “Serena—” I attempt again.

  “Don’t think. Just . . . feel,” she orders between kisses.

  I mutter a few choice words as I taste the mint on her tongue. God, she’s going to be my undoing. With a grunt, I throw my head back and lift her legs around my waist.

  “Fuck. I need you,” I rasp, not knowing what I’m saying.

  “I need you too.” Her mouth moves down my neck, teeth nipping before her tongue swirls and soothes each bite mark.

  Walking backwards, I turn and place her down on my bed before attacking her lips again. She moans into my mouth and it urges me to kiss her harder. More demanding, if that is even possible.

  Serena’s hands slide into my hair and tug lightly, encouraging me. As if I need it. Her taste alone is addictive. Her hands claw at the belt on my jeans, and suddenly nothing else in the world matters.

  Just her.

  I tear away from her, trying to catch my breath. Serena’s blue eyes are dilated, and I watch her chest rise and fall with each pant. Shit, what am I doing?

  Her right hand wraps around the leather necklace that hangs from my neck, pulling me back to her. I go without a fight, and her eyes search mine. As if she understands my indecision, she inhales one final time.

  “What is this?” Her thumb runs across the steel-colored crest that hangs off the strap.

  “A Vergina Sun symbol,” I pant.

  “What does it mean?” her voice is low.

  “It identifies me as satyr royalty. Ophelia’s son.”

  “And the hematite?”

  “My protector stone. Like yours is the emerald.”

  She studies the insignia. Keeping her eyes trained on it, she whispers, “Tell me the truth, Tristan. Is this,” she motions between us, “because of your satyr blood? Are you enthralling me?” Her gaze snaps to mine.

  I look her in the eyes and deepen my tone so she knows I’m serious. “No. Never would I, without your permission.”

  Some satyrs charm other supernatural beings to fulfill their own wanton needs. Not me. I regard it as a violation.

  She swallows. “And our protector bond?”

  I offer a small unconvincing smile. “I don’t think so.”

  Her chin dips in the slightest motion in acceptance. The grip she has on my necklace tightens almost as if she’s grounding herself with it. Guessing she needs some form of assurance, I cup her face with one of my palms.

  “I can tell you this—I would die you for. Without thought. The bond requires me to protect you.”

  “Requires?” Her voice is dejected.

  “Hey,” I force her to look at me. “The bond isn’t why I want to constantly kiss you. Touch you. Feel you.”

  Her eyes widen. “It isn’t?”

  “No.”

  “Then, why?” her voice is breathy.

  I stare at her. Am I really going to do this? Lay it all out for her, knowing there is no future for us? Yeah. I am. Shit.

  “The way you taste is my addiction. When I’m near you, I can breathe. And even though at times, I want to strangle you for your fierce independence, I love it. I like that you can defend yourself. That you aren’t afraid to say whatever is on your mind. You’re beautiful, Serena. Inside and out. You’re intelligent, strong, and witty. You are everything in this life that I never knew I wanted—needed to feel complete. I’m attracted to you simply because you’re you.”

  “Wow,” she breathes out.

  “But, I’ve said it before, I can’t keep you. Regardless of what we feel toward one another, we aren’t meant for each other. I need you to really understand that before we take this any further. We’re destined to fail before we begin.”

  She rears back. “Your version of the truth sucks.”

  I huff. “The truth is, I’m no good for you. You probably
already know this by now. I’ll let you down and break you.”

  “What if I don’t allow you to?” she challenges.

  I release a chuckle. “You’re tenacious.”

  “I know what I want, Tristan. That’s all,” she retorts.

  I exhale. “You deserve somebody to love you, fully.

  Someone to adore you. I’m not him. All I can promise is the worst. We’d only be lying to ourselves if we continue this.”

  Her body shifts as she guides me down onto the bed.

  We’re slipping near the edge, and I’m starting to lose my control to stop this before it starts. The delusional thoughts in my head are taking over; maybe I could wake up to her.

  Within seconds she’s straddling me. Her fingertips run over my jawline. “I can feel it, Tristan. We’re becoming something else. Something bigger than we even know.”

  “Maybe it’s time to walk away, then,” I mutter.

  “Let me in.” She whispers the plea.

  I wince. “Why? You’ll leave me. Hurt me.”

  Her eyes water with unshed tears as she shakes her head back and forth. “I won’t.”

  “Everyone else has, Serena.”

  “I’ll fight for you in a way that no one else ever has.”

  At her words, I break. She brings me to my knees. There is no force, across any realm, that makes me feel the way she does. Fuck. I think I’m falling for her.

  “Come on, let go,” she says, brushing my lips with hers.

  “I can’t.” I squeeze her waist in silent plea for her to stop.

  “Can’t, or won’t?” she counters.

  “Just let it be,” I state flatly.

  I used to recognize myself, but peering up at Serena and seeing myself through her eyes, the reflection has changed. And it scares the crap out of me.

  In silence, she considers me. Then, cautiously, she places her hand over my heart. Over the protector mark.

  “I’ll wait for you,” she vows, with a hidden meaning.

  “You’ll be waiting a long time.” Forever, actually.

  Her grin is wide. “It’s a good that I’m patient then.”

  All around us the air is charged with electric currents. Like the universe is jump-starting our hearts.

  I study her. She’s serious. Whatever false thoughts are running around her head, she’s made her mind up, and I fear that there is no changing it. The protector watches me like she’s discovered her new favorite brand of ice cream. It’s time for damage control.

  But then she sits up, offering me a gentle smile before she lifts my T-shirt over her body, revealing herself to me.

  And my fight is gone. All I see, all I want, is her. Forever.

  Serena

  The silence between us is deafening. Tristan’s hungry gaze roams my naked body with appreciation. His heart beats hard against the palm of my hand. When he licks his gorgeous lips, it’s my undoing.

  I lean down and loom over him, teasing.

  “Right now, Tristan. You and me,” I state.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea,” he shoots back.

  “Just once more.” My voice is low and smooth, lulling him into compliance. “Just one more taste.”

  My mouth hovers above his, and I know he won’t stop me. Not even a little. I inch closer and his brows draw together.

  My lips brush over his in the lightest of touches, before I run my tongue over his mouth and chin, down his neck, and across all the hard planes of his chest and taut stomach.

  With each lick, his muscles spasm under my touch, and I grin. At the same time, I manage to finish unbuckling his pants and open the button before sliding down the zipper.

  I glance down and smile before crawling up his body to meet his lust-filled gaze. “You aren’t wearing underwear,” I say, sliding my hand into the front of his pants.

  “I know—oh shit.” His eyes roll back as I stroke the hard length of his silky erection.

  The tip of my tongue darts out and I run it over his upper lip and then his lower one. My mouth presses over his in the barest of touches as I speak across his lips. “I’m going to taste you now,” I warn, and slide back down his body.

  His gaze follows me and his hands find their way into my hair, fisting it at the top, guiding my head down.

  Tristan bites his lip as I take him out. The heaviness fills my hand. Holding his eyes, I lick the entire length and he growls like an animal, which just turns me on more.

  My tongue swirls around the tip and his head falls back to the bed. “Oh, fuck,” he moans.

  I close my mouth around the top and take him in as far as I can. After the second time, Tristan yanks my head up to his face, hard. The sting tingles around my skull.

  With heavy breaths, he stares at me, as if deciding what to do next. I like the way he’s looking at me, and my heart suddenly aches with the realization that I am attached to him. He makes life better just by being around me.

  “Are you sure?” he pants out.

  I swallow. “Yes.”

  He holds me still. “One more time, Serena. That’s it.”

  “Understood,” I whisper.

  His lips rise, pressing against mine. When I gasp, he pushes his tongue into my mouth, kissing me senseless.

  My head begins to spin, and my heart pounds with every stroke. My core shatters, and everything in my stomach and lower body tightens with need and want. I’m done for.

  My control slips and Tristan takes advantage. Dominating me, he flips me onto my back and covers my body with his. His hands slide out of my hair and grip the sides of my face tightly, almost painfully. His rings press into my cheeks. Like he’s begging me to stop this.

  To stop him.

  I won’t.

  I want him more than I want air right now.

  He continues to assault my mouth and with one hand, finishes pushing his jeans off so he’s completely naked.

  After my lips are bruised and swollen, he sucks a pathway down my throat, leaving bite marks and bruising the skin. It’s a slow, sensual, maddening type of torture.

  Without any warning, Tristan presses down on my clit and begins to relentlessly circle the bundle of nerves.

  I writhe and he holds my head still with the other hand that’s still pressed against it.

  Within seconds, I cry out, almost blacking out with shock at how quickly my orgasm hit me.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs, and looks at me.

  His praise has me shaking again, as he slides two fingers through my wet folds and brings them to his mouth.

  “Fuck, I like the way you taste,” he growls, and I pant watching him suck them.

  “Don’t move,” he orders, and I nod, complying.

  Seconds later he’s standing over me, rolling on a condom as I swallow wantonly at the sight of Tristan looking down at me, sprawled out on his bed.

  His face hardens, his mouth drawing tight.

  Every nerve in my body is alive and in need of his touch. I reach my hand out for him to take, and wait.

  For a moment, he just stares at me, before some of the tension in his face eases and his eyes become hazy.

  At the sight, my body begins to ache with need.

  Tristan ignores my outstretched hand and instead climbs up over my body, covering mine with his. Once again, his hands cradle my head as he looks deeply into my gaze. My fingers wrap themselves around the leather bands on his wrists, holding on to him.

  The tip of his erection presses against my entrance, and I release a needy mewl and begin to tremble under his stare.

  “I like you, raindrop,” he whispers. “More than I should.”

  I can’t help but smile. “I like you too.”

  In one slow, torturous thrust, he pushes into me, filling me completely, all the while staring into my eyes.

  “Oh, shit, Tristan,” I exhale in pleasure. “I—”

  “I know what you need. I’ve got you.” He circles his hips at the same time he grinds himself against me. “Tru
st me.”

  The movement causes me to inhale through my nose and grip his wrists tighter, as my blood boils in my veins.

  “I trust you,” I whisper.

  Ever so slowly, he begins to slide in and out of me in a measured rhythm. He takes his time, watching my every reaction to his skilled movements, memorizing my responses to him.

  As my body climbs higher toward release, his thumbs trace my trembling lower lip.

  “Scream my name when you come,” he demands.

  All I can do is pant in response to the request and nod.

  He releases one side of my face and his hand runs along my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before his fingers rub over me, sending me over the edge screaming his name.

  My orgasm is hard and long, as I pulse around him without shame, gasping roughly for air.

  He places a gentle kiss to the hollow at the base of my throat while I continue to writhe underneath him.

  His hands slip under my ass and without pulling out of me, he moves us into a sitting position.

  I grip his shoulders for support. He slides one hand up my body, stopping with it wrapped around my neck in a gentle hold.

  His other hand presses my lower back, guiding my rocking movements, as he takes control of my lips with a slow, sensual kiss.

  “God, you feel so fucking good,” he rumbles, holding me to him as I move up and down at a slow, controlled pace.

  My eyelids flutter a little and I bite my lower lip as my body begins to shake again. He leans down, scraping the edge of his teeth over my nipple, and I release a loud scream.

  Tristan moves his mouth to the other breast, and my hands fall from his shoulders to the tops of his arms. My fingernails dig into his skin as I become breathless.

  “Tristan,” I gasp.

  “Fuck me,” he groans, and with his hand pushes my lower back, encouraging me to speed up my pace.

  My forehead falls to his and I come again with a cry.

  He blows out a long breath and with both hands under my ass, guides me up and down so he can thrust in and out of me. With a final grunt, Tristan pushes deep inside me as far as he can go and says my name in a broken sound as he pulses against my trembling inner walls with his release.

  Moments later, we’re both panting, sweaty, and stuck together. Tristan’s hand glides down my back before he pulls me against him in a tight embrace.