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been there?
"I won't make that mistake again. Haven't made it. Whatever comes through the Doorways, I
kill."
Miu realized it was a miracle she herself was still alive. And no wonder Jafar was so
determined to learn why Lierr was after the necklace. His story explained so much.
"I have a pretty strong feeling that moonstone around your neck opens Doorways. What I
need to know now," he continued, "is why Lierr sent you for the necklace."
"Because I'm his best?" She tried using her usual sarcasm.
"How much do you want to bet that it takes a being with some pretty powerful moon mazhyk
to make the damn thing work?"
Automatically, she shoved at his hand and he let her go. She didn't go far, stepping away from
him to look up into the darkening night sky. The first silver points of starlight pricked the
blackness around the rising moon.
"You're saying Lierr wanted me to go after the neck lace because he needed a moon daemon
to make the stone do whatever it does."
"That's what I think." He reached out and put his hands on either side of her face, forcing her
to meet his gaze. "Unless he's got a mage or someone equally powerful in his keeping, you're
Lierr's best hope of making that necklace work. I don't know why your thief master wants this
particular ability, but the man can't possibly have a good reason."
"There's only one hole in that theory," Miu replied, scuffing her foot on the ground. "Lierr
may know that I'm a moon daemon, but he also knows I'm not a very good one." She pulled
her shoulders back and looked up to face him. "He knows I'm a weak, weak halfling. If I had
any real power, don't you think I would have used it by now to get my sister away from him?"
"How do you know you have no power?" he asked intently.
Miu stared at him impatiently. "I think I'd know if I had any awesome moon daemon mazhyk,
don't you? In the last two decades, I can assure you I've done squat as far as moon mazhyk is
concerned."
"There's one sure way to test my theory." He smiled slightly. "If you're not afraid?"
"Be my guest." She gestured with her hand. "If you want to stand out here, testing ridiculous
theories, while we wait for the Ifrits to track us down, you go right ahead. I'll even give you
five minutes of my time," she added graciously.
"You need to bleed."
Miu had just known that satisfying the tall, arrogant, hulking male looming over her was
going to take more than parading around in the moonlight like a fool. She'd honestly tried to
get in touch with her daemon mazhyk, but no luck. Daddy dearest hadn't left her with an
instruction manual. She'd wrapped both hands around the stone and flapped it in the pool of
silvery light. Nothing. She wasn't surprised. No spooky mazhyk in her.
"I'm no expert on how the Ifrits travel between realms, but I know there was plenty of blood
around when Pho opened that Doorway." He cursed and took a step closer to her. Right. As if
she were letting him anywhere near her after that statement. She glared at him.
Smart male. He stopped walking, but his fingers were clearly itching to draw a blade. She
kept one eye on them and hefted the necklace again. "See? No moon mazhyk. Nada. Nothing.
Got any more ideas, or can we get on with returning to Shympolsk sometime before Lierr
decides to make shish kebab out of my sister?"
"Got to activate it." He frowned and she suddenly found herself staring at the endearing little
crinkle of skin between his eyebrows. Snap out of it, girl, she reminded herself. The man
wants to stick you like a pig and you're admiring his facial features? She had it bad.
Behind them, the moon inched higher. In minutes, the silver circle would be directly above
them. With the moonstone around her neck, she could feel the hot prickle of the light crawling
over her skin. Awakening her. She had to fight to remain still. Heat unfurled low in her belly.
What would sex with a Guardian be like on this evening?
He smiled grimly and she realized that that was precisely what he intended to discover.
"Oh, no." She shook her head. "No way. I'm not helping you out here."
"It's for a good cause, femi," he said in that low, chocolate voice that she was coming to dread.
It made her do things no self-respecting female would ever dream of doing.
"You can feel it." Jafar's head dipped toward hers. When she bared her teeth at him, he smiled,
low and dark. "Heat. Mazhyk."
"No." She denied it.
"You're. Not. In. Control. Here." His words were a dark promise, full of liquid heat. His eyes
watched her.
"I am," she challenged him. She couldn't afford to lose this battle. Her sister was at stake.
There was no time for sex.
"The moon, Miu," he coaxed. "Look at the moon. Feel all that power? Imagine how it would
feel running through that necklace of yours." Her hands sought and found the heavy weight of
the necklace clasped around her neck. She should take it off. Should throw it away.
He pulled her roughly against his body. Pressed against the hard, hot, masculine heat of his
thighs, she could feel the leashed power.
"One finger," he promised darkly, his eyes never leaving hers. His body demanded, pressing
against hers. "I'll put one finger into your pussy. No more. Imagine that, femi. I can feel how
wet you are. How long would it take for you to come?"
He pushed her up against a tree in a smooth rush of muscled strength, lifting her thighs around
his waist. Her breath caught at the feeling of being dominated, pinned open. He held her there,
pressed against the smooth bark by his lower body. One hand slapped the trunk beside her
head, creating a hot cage of male sinew and skin. Heqet, that skin. She wanted to taste it with
her tongue until he hollered.
"Yes," he coaxed. "One finger? All you have to do is ask."
Right. She wouldn't beg. Instead, she turned her head away, neither refusing nor permitting
the caress.
His eyes gleamed darkly. One thick finger traced a wet path from the top of her pudenda
down to the greedy opening to her body that fluttered in wicked anticipation. His finger found
the front of her trousers and opened it, plunging boldly through the soft slit.
Pleasure howled in her veins. "Wicked," she accused, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Naughty kitty shouldn't do that."
Of course he shouldn't, but he did.
"No polite request? I'm disappointed, femi," he said, and then he pierced her with his finger,
boldly pushing through her cream-slicked lips and deep inside. The hot flesh gave readily, her
imagination fired by his bold words.
He whispered rough compliments against her neck, his heated breath raising its own army of
goose bumps on the graceful curve of her throat. His dark form dominated her smaller, paler
body.
She wiggled experimentally, sinking further onto his finger until her hard little bud slid
teasingly along that spearing digit. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]