you respond to me. Only me.” That last bit came out as a carnal growl, and a rush of liquid lust dampened her core. He growled again, slipping two fingers inside her.
Lost to pleasure, she threw her head back and concentrated on breathing as his fingers worked their magic. He covered her breast with his mouth, drawing against her nipple, his warm tongue swirling and caressing. The combination of his fingers thrusting inside her and his mouth suckling her breast was intoxicating. She felt drunk with sensation, almost overwhelmed, because all of this was so much more than physical.
Reseph was pouring emotion into every slow caress, every smoldering kiss, every honeyed, reverent endearment he whispered against her skin.
His fingers pumped faster, taking her higher. “That’s it,” he rasped against her breast. “God, I love the way you move.”
He feathered his thumb over her clit, just skimming the crest. She cried out with both pleasure and frustration. He did it again, this time with more pressure, and her cry was louder.
“Please,” she gasped. “Now.”
A rattling purr erupted from his chest as he shifted to nudge her thighs wide with his legs. He looked down, watching his hand working her, and that purr went deeper. He twisted his fingers and stroked his thumb through her slit, pressing lightly on her knot of nerves… pressing, not moving, and oh, God,
She shouted in total abandon, bucking into his touch, riding the climax he’d coaxed out of her with teasing touches, hot talk, and sweet pledges. The orgasm seemed to go on and on, and even before the throbbing fire had completely waned, Reseph was on his knees between her legs, his erection curved into his abs as he reached for a condom. His fingers still caressed her sex, but with delicate, indirect strokes.
His gaze smoldered, never leaving her face. He tore the condom wrapper open with his teeth, and in a smooth feat of one-handed dexterity, he removed the condom and rolled it over his straining length. His muscles flexed as he prowled forward over her body, covering her, putting the tip of his cock at her entrance.
Still keeping eye contact, he slid inside her. “I love you,” he said on a breathy moan.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
A smile ruffled his mouth, and then he closed his eyes and thrust his hips slowly. So damned slowly. How did he have such control? She’d already come once, taking the edge off, but she was still worked up enough to want to get things moving.
Pulling up her legs, she wrapped them around his waist, clinging to him fiercely. His pace picked up, the hot friction sparking bolts of ecstasy deep inside her. She clenched around him and he groaned, moving faster. His entire body undulated over her, every muscle tense and rippling, the tendons in his neck standing out starkly.
She was almost there, her body craving another peak. She panted at the upward momentum, the heat between them, the raw, animal lust. Her heart hammered violently, and her breaths came in short, choppy bursts.
“Jillian,” he gasped. “You feel… so… good…” He threw his head back, baring his teeth, pounding into her. “I feel you… coming.”
She went over the edge with him, his shout mingling with hers. A firestorm of pleasure seared her from the inside out.
“My… God,” he groaned, his hips still pumping in spastic twitches. His eyes were mere slits as he sagged on top of her, burying his face in her neck. His breaths were harsh against her skin, but his hands were gentle as he stroked her face, her hair, her shoulders.
Every muscle in her body had turned to Jell-O, but she held him tight, tapping strength from some hidden reserve.
“Thank you,” she said into his hair. “You’ve given me so much.”
With a grunt, he rolled off her, but he didn’t get out of bed. He tucked her against him, twining his legs with hers. “I haven’t given you nearly enough.” He kissed her forehead. “But I’ll start working on that.”
Her chest swelled with happiness. “And tomorrow… I guess today, really, let’s go get a Christmas tree. I haven’t celebrated a proper holiday since my parents died. So let’s start off our new life with Christmas.”
He smiled. “It’ll be sort of like my first.”
“Mine too,” she whispered. “Mine too.”
Nineteen
Reseph woke to the sound of a scream. He bolted upright, reaching for Jillian, but her side of the bed was empty. Hoping to God he’d been dreaming, he scrambled out of bed and tugged on his jeans. And then… another scream. Jillian’s scream.
Instant, bone-chilling terror and panic ripped through him. Barefoot, he charged through the house and tore open the front door with such force that it snapped the hinges.
Jillian was standing on the porch, face pale, eyes wide. A few yards away, Ares, Thanatos, and Limos were lined up, armored, and mounted on their horses.
“My brothers!” Grinning like a fool, his heart bounding with sudden excitement, he started for them. “Limos!”
“Reseph?” Jillian’s voice was shaken.
“It’s okay,” he said, giving her arm a rub as he walked past. “It’s my family. I can’t wait for you to meet them. Come on.”
“You… you remember?”
“Yup.” Freaky, but yeah, it was all coming back to him.
He took the steps down in two strides, but even as he hit the snowy ground below, he realized something was wrong. No one looked happy to see him. In fact, their expressions ranged from wary distrust, to downright hate in Thanatos’s case. What the hell—
A memory struck him like one of Jillian’s frying pans… Thanatos, holding him down, jamming Deliverance into his chest as nearby, a baby cried. But why…?
More memories came at him, rapid-fire, like bullets from an automatic weapon. His head snapped back as a wall of horror blindsided him. He stumbled, his equilibrium thrown off by the weight of the sudden recollections.
Blood. Screams. Hate… so much hate. The world spun, the ground giving way beneath him, and he crashed to his knees, clutching his head. Hands came down on his back… Jillian’s. She was speaking, asking if he was okay. Asking what was wrong, but he couldn’t speak. More screams… the screams of those he’d hurt. Countless numbers of them. Oh…
“No,” he rasped. “Oh… please, no.”
His stomach turned over, and he lurched, half-crawled, half-stumbled away from her and to the nearest tree, where everything he’d eaten in the last week, month, maybe year, came up. He lost it. Lost everything. Including, possibly, his mind.
What was happening?
Jillian stood in the snow, unable to process any of this. The strange, armored people on their horses watched Reseph break away from Jillian, curiously detached. Until he screamed and threw himself against the tree, slamming his head into the trunk over and over.
“Reseph!” She darted toward him, but before she’d gone five steps, arms came around her and she was held tightly by the huge man with blond braids at his temples and yellow hawk eyes. “Let me go!” She kicked and punched, but she might as well have been beating on an elephant. “Release me, you bastard!”
A godawful roar shook the very air, and Reseph spun, his face dripping blood, his teeth bared. Fury blazed in his crimson eyes as they locked onto the man holding her. He charged, but in a blur she couldn’t comprehend until it
