Teasing Danger [Darklands Book 1] Read online

  He held his weight over her for long moments while she stroked his damp back. When he finally gathered his strength and rolled off of her, drawing her with him, she lay quietly with her head on his solid chest, thinking.

  "So, when do I get to climax?"

  Keilor drew back, startled, and peered at her. “Sweetheart, you found your pleasure so many times that I lost count."

  She propped herself up on her elbow and frowned at him. “I didn't feel like I was exploding, or flying, or anything like that.” When his expression grew even more mystified, she explained lamely, “That's what all the romance novels I've read described it as."

  He laughed and shook his head at her. He opened his mouth, but words must have been beyond him because nothing came out. Closing it again, he leaned over and kissed her, grinning against her lips. Then his hand drifted down her body as he worked his potent magic.

  This time when the pleasure came, she knew it for what it was.

  "Oh,” she panted, when the power of speech returned to her.

  "Oh,” he agreed smugly, propped on his elbow as he watched her. He smoothed the hair from her face with fingers that smelled of sex. Thoughtful, he asked, “How is it that such a beautiful woman comes to me almost untouched?” His eyes warmed. “I am grateful, but astonished at the foolishness of the men who've known you. Were they all such dolts?"

  Jasmine ducked her head. “No one ever thought of me as beautiful."

  "Impossible,” he assured her, giving her another tender kiss. “What of slug tongue?” She choked and spluttered with laughter. He sighed and drew her closer, lying back on the pillows. “Their foolishness is my good fortune, and I am a happy man tonight.” He kissed her temple. “Go to sleep, wife, in the arms of the man who loves you.” He felt her swallow against his chest.

  "I love you, too, Keilor."

  He kissed her again, nuzzled against her hair and settled back with a contented sigh. “I know."

  What a view.

  Jasmine wasn't one for mornings, but if she got to wake up to this every day, she just might revise her opinion.

  Keilor rested his forearms against the back of a wing chair, watching the sunrise. Pink and gold light delineated every inch of his superbly naked body, from his sculpted back and loose, dark hair to his tight behind on down to his strong, long legs. It was a sight to make a make a maiden faint, or even a newly-made wife.

  She must have made some sound, for suddenly she was looking at her first, full frontal view of a living, breathing naked man. Fire leapt into her cheeks, and she looked down. They might have done it, but she'd never actually checked one out before, and she found she just couldn't stare at it—him—and still look him in the face.

  He had no such hang ups.

  "Good morning,” he murmured and joined her on the bed, sliding down her quilt to suckle on one unsuspecting nipple. She grabbed his head, started to arch with pleasure and then gave a tiny cry as sore muscles protested. Instantly he stopped, concerned. “Are you all right?"

  She gave him a rueful smile. “Just a little sore, is all."

  "Ah.” He looked down at the painful area, hidden under the blankets until she squirmed. He sighed. “I shall have to be very careful with you, I see.” Casanova poked his nose at them, asking for attention, and he petted the little villi, shifting a bit on the bed and exposing himself to her. Jasmine gulped and looked away. He smiled and gave her another sweet kiss. “You have nothing to fear from my body, my love.” He lowered his voice and took her hand, placing it on his erection. “I like it when you look at me.” He moved her fingers on him, watching her. “I like it even better when you touch me."

  Given formal permission, Jasmine explored him, watching in fascination as her hand moved slowly over him, from wet tip and silky-hardness to the vulnerable testi at the base. All the while, he neither flinched nor displayed the least bit of self-consciousness. When she began to stroke him with a rhythmic pattern, he wrapped his hand around hers and showed her the proper pressure and timing, then let go and let her have her way, throwing his head back and reveling in the pleasure. It was ... beautiful.

  Afterward he gathered her up to share his bath, gently cleansing away the exertions of the night and starting new fires. She was still too tender to fully appreciate his loving, but still she wanted him too badly to stop, and she knew that it would get better every time until nothing was left but pure, sweet pleasure.

  They ate breakfast and reclined on the bed afterward, relaxing. Keilor held her against his chest while they talked.

  "We'll need to choose a suite,” Keilor murmured, drawing her hair away and kissing her neck. “Our rooms aren't suitable for a mated couple.” She felt him smile against her skin. “I think we'll have to take this bed and the mirror with us, though."

  Some of her drowsiness fled and she turned over to swat him in playful warning. “Don't you dare!” He grinned, nipped at her and pretended to wrestle with her, ending their play with a long, drugging kiss.

  Drawing away with reluctance, he murmured under his breath what sounded like, ‘many more nights’ and settled her comfortably into his arms. Resting his chin on her head, he said, “Jayems’ and Rihlia's wedding ceremony is tonight. Maybe you should get some rest. It's bound to be a long evening."

  A sudden thought struck her, and she leaned up on one elbow, resting her head on her hand. “Do we have to have a ceremony?"

  He brushed her loose hair off her shoulder and behind her back. “Do you want one?” he asked, feeling indulgent. If that was what she wanted, he wouldn't argue. In truth, though, he'd never favored public ceremonies, and wouldn't feel any the more married for it. As far as he and Haunt law were concerned, she was now his wife in every way that mattered.

  She frowned and looked down at the bed. “To tell the truth, I'd rather just skip it. It seems like an awful lot of bother just to announce to the world that we're, ah, married."

  Something about the careful way that she said it raised his short hairs. Pinning her with a deadly serious stare, he told her, “You gave me your promise, Sylph."

  It was the wrong word to use.

  She wouldn't look at him. “I said I was yours for as long as you want me.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “In twenty or thirty years—"

  Forcing her to look at him, to see his anger, he told her in no uncertain terms, “My promise was for a lifetime, wife. And I meant it.” She pulled away, and he cursed the fact that she was too new to loving to speak to with his body. She needed his possession right now.

  Not knowing what else to do, he got up and pulled on his boots, intent on working off his frustration somehow. “I do not understand you, woman,” he snapped, tugging on the carefully polished boots, so at odds with his careless housekeeping. “One moment you trust me enough to take me to your bed, and the next you are taking me for an honorless animal who'll mate with anything that catches his eye."

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, his eyes sparking gold. “You've got something to learn about your new world, wife. Haunt men take but one mate, and we don't touch another woman for as long as she lives, unless we wish to go insane.” He paused, reining in his temper. “Unlike humans, once mated, for us there is no going back. As soon as the fluids mix, a connection is made that won't bear severance. Unlike you,” he said, shocking her, “I can never play you false. Do you not think that I considered that carefully before speaking to Jayems?"

  "I'm not planning to run off with the butler and the family jewels the first chance I get,” she told him tightly, most of what he was saying going right over her head. “I was just trying to give you breathing room, a chance to bow out gracefully when—"

  Disgusted, he turned on his heel and stalked to the door. “I am not listening to any more of this,” he said grimly. “If I'd known what madness it was to take a human for a wife—” The door slammed behind him, cutting off whatever else he had to say.

  Jasmine stared at the door, wondering what had just ha
ppened. She'd been trying to be considerate, letting him go in advance. He'd never be able to have kids with her, and she couldn't believe he wouldn't be revolted by her once old age overtook her. It wouldn't be fair not to let him go.... Her chest constricted, and she quickly shut off thoughts of Keilor taking another lover, or a wife. She'd be better off thinking of this as an extended affair. Her eyes prickled, and she closed them, sealing off the emotion before she got too close a look at it.

  Some things were better left unexplored.

  She sighed in frustration and flopped back on the bed, her arm covering her eyes. So much for the honeymoon.

  The moment Rihlia saw her somber face, she dropped what she was doing. Ignoring the women hovering around her, she dragged Jasmine into her old room and firmly shut the door. The lock clicked shut. “Out with it,” she demanded, sitting down on the white and yellow quilt and pulling Jasmine down with her. “I know Keilor spent the night with you."

  "Rih!” Jasmine rolled her eyes and avoided her friend's curious gaze. She felt guilty for taking her away from her wedding preparations, but she'd needed to talk to someone, and somehow she'd doubted that Keilor would appreciate her talking to the door guards.

  "So now you're married,” she continued, all curiosity, not realizing in her happiness that Jasmine wasn't nearly as thrilled.

  "Sort of,” Jasmine hedged.

  A thunderous frown gathered on Rihlia's brow. “Sort of? How can you be ‘sort of’ married, Jas? Didn't you sleep with him? Did he not make you a promise?” She braced her arms behind her and leaned back into a golden square of sunlight from the mullion windows, waiting for an answer.

  Mutinous, Jasmine blurted, “Yes, but it doesn't mean anything. I told him that I didn't want a ceremony, and he was okay with that.” She picked at the bedspread. “He told me he loves me and that's good enough for me, for as long as it lasts."

  Rihlia peered at her in pained disbelief. “As long as it lasts, Jas? You make love sound like the stomach flu."

  Closing her eyes, Jasmine took a deep breath and explained as logically as she knew how, “It's like I told him, Rih, I'm going to get old a lot sooner than he will. I'll waste away, shrivel up. Hey, for all I know, I'll get Alzheimer's and go senile on him. How would that be fair?” She shook her head. “Like I said, I'll take what I can get for as long as it lasts.” She looked at her best friend and was shocked to see a single tear track down her cheek. “Rih?” she asked, reaching for her, uncertain what was wrong.

  She shrank away from Jasmine's touch and stood up with her fists clenched. For long moments, she just stared.

  "Do you know what it is for a Haunt to take a mate, Jasmine? Of course you don't,” she said, answering her own question. Her voice was laden with heavy emotion. “You can only be with one person, if you are a Haunt,” She explained, reaching for words. “That's the reason why I could only go so far with men before. Jas—you have no idea.” Closing her eyes, she fought back tears. “Once I was with Jayems, once we had been together, made love—Jas,” her voice cracked. “He was a virgin, too."

  Jasmine stared at her in shock. Jayems, a virgin?

  Gaining control of herself, Rihlia went on, “We can mess around all we want, touching and kissing whomever we please, but the moment that we cross that line, we can never go back. That's why it's a marriage. It has to be."

  Still at sea, Jasmine said, “I still don't understand."

  Frustrated, Rihlia searched for something that Jasmine could comprehend. Inspiration struck. “Do you remember what you said about your first time?” she asked as she sat on the bed, watching Jasmine closely. “You told me that it was mildly pleasant, but that you felt detached and empty. Remember?” Jasmine nodded, and she relaxed a fraction. “Was it that way with Keilor?"

  Jasmine sucked in a breath. “There was no comparison. I had feelings for him, and he clearly—” she jigged her head and scratched her cheek, lowering her eyes in embarrassment. “He was clearly a better lover to start with.” Unbidden, the image of him as he'd been this morning, completely focused and relaxed as he'd let her touch him, came to mind. There had been no barriers of any kind for him. Because he assumed that there would never be anyone else for him? Misgiving touched her as she remembered how her own walls had come down when he'd been killing her with pleasure. In that moment, everything that she was had belonged to him and only him. Was Rihlia trying to say that he—that they—were that way with their mates all the time? A frantic bubble of fear rose to her throat and lodged. How could they survive without armor and walls to hold others at bay? She wouldn't, couldn't! Surely he wouldn't expect that of her? She wasn't capable of that kind of sustained vulnerability.

  Something in her face must have given her away, for Rihlia said, very gently, “You became a part of him, connected with something deep inside him that has never been touched, by anyone. Something so much deeper than a loss of virginity that I can barely describe it. If you ever tried to take that away.... “Words failed her.

  A little frightened and a lot shaken, Jasmine got to her feet. This was a lot more complicated than she'd thought. “He was a virgin?” she asked, repeating the most difficult of the concepts to accept.

  Rihlia nodded.

  "A virgin,” Jasmine repeated. She still couldn't get past that one. How could such a confident, competent man possibly be a virgin? She'd had both men and boys use the word as an insult to her, and she just couldn't reconcile her image of innocence and fumbling inexperience with anything about Keilor, or the Haunt for that matter. Her eyes boggled as another thought hit her. “Fallon is a virgin?"

  Rihlia grinned. “Every unmated male is a virgin, silly. Every woman, too."

  "Urseya?” She still remembered Urseya standing in nothing but a thin slick of mud, boldly flirting with Keilor.

  "I never said that they weren't experienced, you goober,” Rihlia said, giving her a friendly little push. “Sticking it in doesn't take brains or skill. Even amebas manage to reproduce.” She smirked. “I take it that Keilor was one hot number."

  This time, Jasmine felt her entire body blush. She hid her face in her hands. What an understatement!

  Now that she understood what Keilor had been talking about with his ranting about exchanging fluids and all, and armed with the knowledge that Keilor had been a virgin, Jasmine had several things that she urgently needed to discuss with him. At the top of the list was the whole vulnerability issue. They had to do something about that. She refused to be responsible for an alien thing that exposed emotions. Just to set the record straight, he also had to know, in case he didn't already, that she wasn't capable nor desirous of such exposure on her own part, either. Once he understood that, they could move on to more subtle things, like his walking off in the middle of an argument.

  She returned to her room to avoid the flurry surrounding Rihlia, but Keilor didn't show up soon enough to suit her and pacing only fed her frustration. Deciding to seek him out, she checked in his room, but he wasn't there, either. Since she was there and he wasn't around to tell her no, she decided to muck out some of the refuse from his sty, starting first with the nasty blanket on his gray mattress. Using as few fingers as she could, she drug the icky thing over to the door and started a trash pile.

  That mattress had to go, she decided as she viewed the lumpy thing with hands on hips. It looked like it had been run over by a Mack truck, left out in the rain and left to dry out in somebody's driveway. Throwing open the door, she surveyed Raziel and Isfael, who were on duty today. Raziel glanced at her from where he was slouched against the opposite wall, arms crossed and one leg slack, obviously bored. His limp red sash and red insignia were the only hints of color about him today. A silver earring dangled from one ear. Poor Isfael just looked stoic.

  For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why Keilor was wasting officers to guard her when even Rihlia only had regular soldiers. They weren't exactly models of discipline, either. More than once she'd walked out only to find them at a game of
dice. She shrugged it off. They were a likable pair, and they'd gone a long ways towards helping her to relax around the Haunt. Besides, maybe rank had some privileges.

  She raised her brows at them. “So, when are you two going to get a real job?” Raziel snorted but didn't move. Isfael gave her a toothy and decidedly unnerving grin. Girding her loins, she said, “Hey, I know you guys aren't butlers, but I've got something heavy here that I need to get rid of. Could one of you give me a hand?"

  The pair followed her into the room and she propped her hands on her hips again, grimacing. “Can you believe this mess?” she asked with disgust. “The man runs an entire army and probably tortures his recruits with inspections and stuff, but he can't even be bothered to pick up his socks."

  "Rank has its privileges."

  Startled, Jasmine whirled around and stared. Isfael and Raziel had shifted into human form. Isfael was uglier than sin, and she thought with a flash of chagrin that the poor guy looked much better covered in hair. Raziel was unremarkable in appearance, except for his piercing blue eyes. Both of them nodded to her with respect. “Congratulations on your new match,” Raziel said, and she realized that he was the one who had spoken. “Keilor is a good friend of ours, and we wish his new wife every happiness,"

  "Happiness and a long life,” Isfael seconded.

  Jasmine frowned a bit. “Well, I don't know about the long life, but I'm definitely going for happiness. Thank you."