The Seer Page 9

  He coaxed the straps of her dress over her shoulders. The shimmersilk dress, heavy with beading, slid quickly to the floor. She tensed, using her arms to cover her breasts.

  He sat down on the bed and she realized he was concerned his height might be intimidating. He looked up at her, his fingers lightly tracing her sides, waiting.

  She knew if she drew back, turned away, reached for her dress, he would let her go without a word of rebuke or disappointment. This was her choice.

  Shaking, she lowered her arms.

  He held her gaze for a moment then lowered his eyes to look at her.

  “They’re usually bigger,” she blurted. “I mean, they were before I left home but I’m so skinny now—oh!”

  She broke off as his mouth covered the peak of her breast.

  The moist heat of it tightened her center, her own heat thrumming now through her. He drew the nipple into his mouth with gentle suction, his tongue moving over the peak.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his lips tracing across her chest to the other breast. He took longer with this one, nuzzling a bit before his mouth touched her nipple with tantalizing possessiveness.

  He held her by the waist again, and her palms pressed down on his shoulders, her knees so weak now that he was helping her stay upright.

  When he drew back his eyes were big with desire. He held her gaze as his fingers found the edges of her underwear and slowly slid them down.

  She was bare before him now and his eyes softened as they went to the dark hair between her legs. His hands rested on her hips for a moment then slid his palms over her hipbones, touching the dark hair with the pads of his thumbs. His thumb touched the very apex between her legs, his stroke sending jolts of pleasure through her.

  She felt tight, tingly there now, looking down at him with wide eyes and something in her expression made his mouth take on a tender curve.

  He reached for the fastenings of his shirt. “Do you want to do it or do you want me to?”

  By way of answering she reached for the closures. It wasn’t easy to undo them with her fingers shaking so but after a time she managed. She pushed at the shirt and he shrugged it away to let it fall to the floor. He got his boots off and stood to bring her hand to waist of his trousers.

  “Me or you?”

  Her heart was hammering in her chest. The pants were harder to undo, maybe because she could see the curve of his arousal there. In the end he had to help her.

  He was in his undershorts now and cupped her face to press another kiss to her mouth. He deepened the kiss as he urged her back onto the bed and the warmth of his body covered hers as he lay her down on its soft surface.

  Her hands ran down the smooth skin of his muscled back to his hips. He drew away, poised over her, waiting. She urged the shorts down and nipped her lip when the soft material caught on his hardness. She freed him from the fabric, the heat of his shaft startling against her fingers. With the shorts off, he shifted to lie beside her.

  His mouth quirked up a bit. “You can look.”

  Arissa lowered her gaze to see him hard and ready, the curve of his maleness jutting out, the darker blond hair, the softness below.

  She reached for him shyly but stopped, unsure, and looked to find his gaze hot.

  “It’s okay.” Jolar took her hand and brought it to him, his hand over hers as she wrapped her fingers around his hardness. His skin was velvety soft and as she ran her hand down his shaft, his breath caught, his eyes fell shut and the tingles of his arousal surrounded her. His lips parted, and he showed her how to stroke him, his hand closing over hers to squeeze.

  His breath was coming faster, and he moved his hips under her touch until his hold suddenly tightened on her hand.

  “Better stop now,” he said with a shaky laugh. “Or this will be over before it starts.”

  He drew her hand away and with a wild thrill she saw he was trembling a little. He turned so he was against her side.

  His hand slid over her hipbone to her lower belly, resting just above the thatch of dark hair there. “I want to touch you too. Tell me what you like.”

  “I don’t know,” she managed.

  “What do you like when you touch yourself?” Her face went hot and he gave a soft laugh at her stunned mortification. “It’s okay, everyone does it.”

  “Do you?” she demanded, embarrassment giving her voice an edge.

  “Yes.”

  She caught it then, how much knowing she sought her own pleasure aroused him.

  “Tell me what you like,” he said, his voice huskier now, his hand slid lower resting now at her center. “I have an idea.” He gave a soft, breathless laugh. “I know exactly how I want you to tell me.”

  His fingers slid against her, tracing the lips there then lightly touching her where she was most sensitive and her mouth parted. He drew little circles over the spot and her breath caught at the tightening pleasure of it.

  He drew back a little to watch her again, his fingers moving rhythmically. “Like it?” he murmured.

  “Gods, yes!” she gasped.

  He pressed closer, his hardness hot against her hip, arching his body over hers, his breathing coming faster. She moved against his touch, her eyes opened to meet his, her lip caught between her teeth as the tightness grew.

  His glance ran over her face, his pupils large and he gave a quick, almost feral smile before he brought his mouth to hers again. His tongue darted in and out between her lips, a taste of what he wanted next.

  He slid a finger insider her, then two, his thumb moving against her and groaned.

  “You’re so wet.” Jolar’s eyes were nearly glowing as he searched her face. “Do you want this? Do you want me inside you?”

  “Yes!”

  He moved between her legs then, his big warm body covering hers as he positioned the tip of his shaft at her center.

  He touched his mouth to hers. “So beautiful,” he murmured then slowly began to sink into her folds.

  Arissa watched his eyes shut briefly as he entered, his expression become absorbed as the pleasure he felt at being inside her surged through her mind. She made a soft sound at the pinch of pain when he filled her. He stayed there, his body tight. The sensation of having him inside was a wonderful shock.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice ragged, rough. “Do you want to stop?”

  “No,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “No, please don’t stop.”

  Relief and heat burst around her and he started to move. For a moment it was as if she were in two places at once, feeling him hot inside her, feeling every nerve echoing the pleasure of his movements and feeling him so aroused, holding back when he wanted to move faster, harder, trying not to hurt her, not to lose control.

  “So good. Feels . . .” His hold on her tightened, his body so taut he was trembling now.

  He moved faster, deeper then, every stroke moving against her most sensitive spot.

  “Can feel you,” he panted, curled over her. “Gods, can feel you.”

  She cried out as the pleasure hit her, her insides contracting hard with it.

  He bent his head, his thrusts deep and fast now, another stroke and he gave a cry, shuddering as he spent himself within her.

  Jolar’s eyes were still shut; he was trembling in her arms. She touched the softness of his golden hair, so fiercely glad, so grateful it had been him first, that tears blurred her vision.

  Ten

  Jolar drew away to look at her, his blue eyes half closed, his breathing still quick, a smile curving his mouth.

  His brow creased instantly. “Oh, no. Oh sweet, I thought—”

  Tears ran down to dampen her hair but she laughed too. She shook her head. “No, no, I’m fine! I didn’t—That was amazing! Is always like that?”

  “No,” he said hoarsely. “No, Arissa, that was special.”

  She took his face in her hands. “Thank you, Jolar. For making it so wonderful for me.”

 
He closed his eyes and bent his head. “Gods, don’t thank me.” He pulled out, shifting to lie beside her and gathered her against him, cradling her. “You’re okay, though?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She put her hand on his chest feeling his heartbeat under her palm. “I’m so glad you wanted to. Frack, I mean.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Don’t call it that.”

  “Why not?” she asked, frowning. “What do you want me to call it?”

  “Call it joining. Call it lovemaking.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “But it wasn’t—Look, just don’t call it that, okay?”

  “Okay.” She ducked her head. “Did you like it?”

  He gave a short laugh. “Yes. Couldn’t you tell?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Was it as—as nice as other times for you?”

  Such a storm of emotion tore though him that she raised her head to look at him. His eyes were shut tight.

  “Jolar?”

  He looked at her, his blue eyes wild, his emotions a jumble. Stinging pain, blossoming joy, pulling sadness, determination rolling, fierce and sharp . . .

  She frowned and touched his cheek. “Jolar?”

  “Even better.” The storm of his mind calmed and he kissed her with an air of possessiveness he hadn’t before.

  “Do you think you’d want to do it again sometime?” she asked shyly. “With me, I mean?”

  “Yes, I do. Again and again.” He chuckled. “As soon as I can.”

  She frowned. “But not for a while?”

  “It takes a little while for a man to be ready again. Another of the gods’ many jokes.” He sobered. “They never seem to tire of them.” He searched her face. “But you’re really all right?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She laughed. “You’re so relieved.”

  His face flushed. “I can’t do what you can do. I have to guess what people are feeling from what they say, their facial expressions, their body language. You must feel like you’re explaining colors to someone who’s never been able to see them when you talk to me.” His blue eyes shone. “I wish I could do what you can do.”

  “Don’t say that.” Her throat felt like it was closing and hot tears stung her eyes. “I wouldn’t wish it on you. I’m already afraid I’ll—”

  “Contaminate me? Influence me?” He twirled one of her ringlets around his finger. “Manipulate me with your wicked powers?”

  “Don’t joke about it,” she cried. “You don’t know that I won’t. I don’t know that I won’t, even if I don’t want to, don’t mean to.”

  He leaned on his elbow, looking at her frankly, his palm resting on her stomach. “You’re really worried about that?”

  “I do everything I can not to be telepathic, to dampen it down, to turn it off. I’ve read about the trials, the harm Seers are capable of. That’s why they made the laws. Because people like me hurt people like you.”

  “Two hundred years ago people like you supported the royal family,” he said a little sharply. “They fought on the side of the crown during the civil war. Maybe being on the losing side had more to do with those laws than any harm Seers ever did.”

  “I didn’t realize you had such an interest in history.”

  “My father was the one with the interest in history. The lost legacy of our family, the fall of the Tellaran royal house . . .” Jolar shook his head. “He could go on for hours about it. He said that the Seers kept their loyalty oaths, that they died with honor while the Zartani lords caved to the New Order.”

  She hesitated but her father was dead, he couldn’t be prosecuted now. “My father found some works in the archives on Apovia about Seers, when they were sought out, trained in the temples, held important positions. It was an awful risk for him to smuggle those out of the archive for me. Just reading them put him in danger of being arrested but he wanted me to see them. He didn’t want me to be so—so ashamed.”

  Shock reverberated through him. “Gods, is that how you feel? Ashamed?”

  She couldn’t look at him. How could she explain how much it hurt to know that she could never be like him? Never really be part of the life she could see around her? Never be anything than other, different, frightening?

  How much she hated the part of herself she knew would always keep her from him?

  “Arissa, if you’ve been actively trying to clamp down on your abilities then you don’t even know what you’re capable of! We need to find out what you can really do if you try.” He stroked her cheek. “You can practice on me.”

  Her gaze flew to his face. “No,” she breathed. “No, I can’t. What if I hurt you? I could—”

  “You won’t,” he said firmly. “How can we use your abilities to the fullest if we don’t even know what they are? They may make all the difference. They might keep us alive.” He traced her cheek with his fingertips. “Do you trust me, sweet?”

  She wet her lips. “Yes.”

  “I want to learn what you can do. I want us to learn together.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Don’t you?”

  She closed her eyes, concentrated on the feel of his skin, the warmth and comfort of his big body curled around hers, the precious acceptance.

  “All right,” she whispered. “If that’s what you want, Jolar.”

  She couldn’t read him when she was sleeping.

  She was resting easy now, safe in his arms, her mouth parted in sleep like a child. Jolar finally allowed himself the luxury of relaxing control over his feelings, letting them rage as they would.

  When she slept was about the only time he had to let the full impact of this mess fill his mind. Distance seemed to keep her from reading him too.

  But he didn’t want to be away from her. Not at all.

  Gods, I’m so absolutely fracked.

  There were novice priestesses at Seleni’s temple that were less sheltered than she was. She’d been hidden away, a virtual prisoner her whole life, watching others make friends, go to school, forced to learn about life through books and holos . . .

  Just looking into those wide green eyes, so frightened, so guarded, even as her gaze darted about, eager to take in some of what she’d been denied, made his heart ache.

  The whole thing made him wish for a stun pike and ten minutes alone in a room with whoever enacted the whole anti-Seer laws in the first place.

  He covered his eyes with his hand as shame rushed over him. Shoving money in her hand like that. The growing frustration of wanting to kiss her at the airskating rink, tonight before dinner, longing to be alone with her, the wanting that started since the moment he’d seen her on Tellar and had grown completely out of control, the hunger that drove him to make that stupid ‘let’s-frack-for-the-sake-of-the-mission’ demand. . .

  I’m the one who deserves ten minutes under that stun pike.

  I just blindly accepted her story on Tellar. I should have known better, asked more questions, been gentle with her. Just looking at her I should have known she’s been through hell.

  He’d no idea how sheltered she’d been. It never occurred to him how much of life she’d missed. How innocent she was.

  How could take her to Sertar? The place was a snake pit. But he couldn’t send her back to the capital either. There was nowhere to hide her; nowhere he could be certain she would be safe within Tellaran space without that ID.

  Not pretty? He could hardly take his eyes off her.

  What the hell am I going to do?

  For one heartbeat, just as she hovered at the edge of her pleasure, the barriers between them fell away. He’d felt her. Her excitement, her nervousness, her arousal—but so much more. He traced the sharpness of her intellect, the depth of her compassion, the warm innate joy that her enforced isolation could dampen but not destroy.

  For that single instant too he became alert to other minds in her awareness and unguarded, found himself swept along pools of sorrow, buoyed over swells of joy . . .

  A flash of the universe through her eyes.

  It w
as the most precious moment of his life.

  He smoothed away an ebony curl from her face.

  My sweet one. His eyes stung. How am I ever going to let you go?

  A good man? An honorable one?

  Hardly.

  And when she knew the truth, it was going to end everything.

  Eleven

  Jolar pressed a kiss against her temple, his arm around her waist. “We should have had breakfast in our suite.”

  From their place in the line outside the Twin Suns restaurant Arissa judged it would be several minutes before they even reached the host station. “We can go to the dining room.”

  “Oh, we long ago missed our breakfast seating.” His hand slid lower down her back to just the edge of where it could decently rest in public. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I chose the early one.”

  “We can go back to our suite and eat there instead.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he said huskily his other arm going around her too. “You’re lucky I let you get dressed at all.”

  A few curious glances turned their way and her face flushed. His words weren’t far from the truth, he’d kissed her awake and let her have a single cup of white tea before sending her to dress for breakfast. But he caught her before she made it to the dressing room and kissed her back to the bed before her growling stomach made him reluctantly break off and send her again.

  All her work had gone for nothing because once she’d dressed and joined him in the living room, he soon kissed her right back to their room, her clothes tossed to the floor and breakfast forgotten again.

  He gave a soft laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that so loud.”

  She ducked her head as the line shuffled a few steps forward. Her cheeks burned but she sensed that, while he hadn’t meant to embarrass her, Jolar didn’t really care if everyone within earshot knew how they’d spent their morning.

  “Hello Arissa.”

  “Oh.” Seeing who it was exiting the restaurant, Arissa smiled. “Good morning, Kemma, Lian.”

  Kemma turned her smile on Jolar. “We didn’t have much of an opportunity to meet yesterday.”