And that, as they said here in Wintercraig, was an entirely different kettle of fish.
She stamped her foot and spun around, pressing her palms to her hot face. “Scorch me for a foo—”
Her voice cut off, her lungs suddenly and completely bereft of all air.
For the life of her, she couldn’t move.
She’d thought she’d bought herself some time. The rest of the day. A few hours at the least. Time to clear her head and plan a course of action.
She should have known better. Dilys Merimydion wasn’t a lethal mercenary feared the world over because he gave his opponents time to regroup and shore up their defenses. When he discovered a weakness, he went for it full bore. With heavy artillery.
And Dilys Merimydion was very,veryheavy artillery.
He rose from the fjord like some magnificent god of the sea, stepping through the frothing, white deluge of Snowbeard Falls as if it were a veil of falling flower petals, his sleek, dark, powerfully muscled body unbowed by the pounding weight of water that would have crushed another man. His gaze locked on hers, and with slow, deliberate, fluid movements, he climbed up the wet, black rocks tumbled at the base of the falls, pausing to crouch on the large boulder at the top of the pile like some majestic jungle predator preening in the sun.
The effect was... spectacular. If she hadn’t desired him beyond all reason before, this moment would have done the trick.
Water streamed down him in rivulets, sliding over satiny skin, drawing her longing, ravenous gaze down the length of his sculpted body. The folds of his wetshumaclung to him like a second skin, all but transparent, molded to the heavy, rippling muscle of his thighs, the scandalous bulge between his legs that beneath her hot, hungry gaze began to pulse and grow, lifting the damp length of hisshuma.
“Keep looking like you want to eat me up,moa halea,and I’ll let you.” His voice was a hard, rough rumble.
The throaty sound scraped across her senses, but it was the other, underlying tone that made every hair on her body stand on end. Not so much a sound as a deep vibration tuned precisely to every erogenous zone in her body. It rippled across her skin as he spoke and made her nipples clench into hard, painful points. Heat pooled in the suddenly swollen, throbbing folds between her legs. Her body began to shake with fine tremors.
Halla help her. This was another kind of Calbernan enthrallment. An erotic Persuasion. It had to be. Men couldn’t bring a woman to the brink of shattering ecstasy with a just few words spoken in a throaty voice. No matter how deep, velvety, and darkly seductive that voice might be.
Not that Gabriella had ever allowed herself close enough to any man she found attractive to know what shattering ecstasy felt like, of course, but Khamsin had been a font of information these last months. Determined that her sisters would not go into marriage ignorant and unprepared, Kham had told the Seasons exactly what went on in the marriage bed, what their future husbands would expect, and—equally as important, in her opinion—what they had a right to expect from their future husbands in return. The conversation had been accompanied by plenty of wide eyes, gasps, and giggling, but plenty of avid interest, too. Spring had even taken notes.
In any event, this shivery, hot, shaking, tight, her-whole-body-was-about-to-explode feeling seemed very similar to the shattering ecstasy Khamsin had described. One more word from Dilys, and Gabriella feared she might tumble over the brink.
The side folds of Dilys Merimydion’s bright white-and-blueshumaparted. One long, muscular leg slid forward with fluid grace, clearing the surface of the boulder and stepping lightly on the damp flagstones of the grotto floor. Every move was like a sensual dance, slow, deliberate, seductive. He crossed the short distance between them and came to stand before her, so close she could practically feel the warmth emanating from his skin.
She knew she should flee. This man was dangerous to her. The wild sexual attraction was only the tip of the iceberg. If she let him close—if she acted on the feelings he roused—she would fall so hard, so fast, there would be no coming back. No hope to save herself. She tried to make herself turn and run, but her trembling body seemed deaf to the commands of her brain.
Afraid she would not be able to resist again if she fell into that sunlit sea once more and heard that voice commanding her to claim him, she dragged her gaze down, away from his eyes, and fixed it on his mouth. But then, all she could do was think,My gods, what a beautiful mouth!and remember the many scandalous ways Khamsin had said a loving husband could put his mouth to use.
“S-stop this r-right now,” she stammered.
“Stop what?” His head bent.
“You know w-what.” His nearness overwhelmed her. “Stop trying to s-seduce me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” The words feathered across her cheek like kisses, trailing a warm path towards her mouth.
She swallowed hard. Her heart was slamming against her chest. “You know it is.”
His mouth hovered over hers, so close his lips brushed against hers when he spoke. “If you want me to stop, you have only to Command me...Sirena.”
She opened her mouth to tell him to stop, but the words caught in her throat when his palm came up to cup her cheek. Her skin burned where he touched it.
“No more lies, Gabriella,” he murmured. “Give me the truth. What do you fear so much, that you would run so hard from what you want?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking abou—”
The press of his mouth against hers cut off her lie and swallowed it down, stealing it from her lips. He curled one arm around her waist and pulled her close, tightening his embrace until the full length of her body was pressed against him. His other hand tunneled through her hair, fingers curling around her skull, holding her fast. All the while, his mouth moved upon hers. Soft as silk, hot as fire. As relentless as the sea.
Just when her knees were about to buckle, he ended the kiss and pulled back.
“I told you the price you’d pay for each lie,” he said. “Try again,moa kiri.And this time, tell me true.”
