Soul in Darkness (Page 22)

I went very still, trying to imagine that creature in my midst. Now my throat was dry. “What can you tell me about his personality?”

“He is a comic genius.”

I let out an accidental snort and covered my mouth. “Be serious.”

“I am. Impressive sarcastic wit for one who can scarcely talk.”

Laughter bubbled out of me, though my hand still cupped my mouth. I had no idea if he was being serious or attempting to joke.

“What other theories have you got?” he asked.

I chewed my lip. “Manticore?”

“Mm. Cousin to the chimera. Head of a human with sharp teeth. Body of a lion. Bat-like wings. Impressive creatures in combat.”

I stared at the space where he sat, my insides roiling. Could he be a manticore? Perhaps the serpent part of him consisted of those sharp teeth? I thought I had felt his teeth against my legs that night, but now I wasn’t so sure. I tried to relax my face, but my eyebrows were furrowed tight.

“Psyche. Hold out your arm.”

“No.” My arms went stiff, hands clasped tightly in my lap.

“Your arm.” His voice was so firm that Mino flopped to his back on the floor beside us.

My abdomen clenched. “Please. Can you just say whatever it is? Do you really need—” I screamed as a firm force outstretched my arm onto the table where it lay flat, palm down.

“Keep your other hand in your lap,” he told me.

I locked my jaw, too terrified to move. Then I felt the heat of breath above my forearm, and the press of teeth. My throat seized up. He had his mouth around my arm, just as Mino had clamped his mouth around Sphinx’s throat earlier. And like the puppy’s bite, my husband’s was not deadly. I tried to catch my breath and take in the sensation of a full set of teeth, top and bottom, holding firmly to my skin. I even stared in wonder at the sight of those teeth pressing down. I could see the imprint. None of them were particularly sharp. No “fangs.” And his lips, surrounding the teeth, were incredibly soft and tender. A heated flush suddenly swept over me, making me glad I was seated.

“All right then,” I breathed.

He released me, and I yanked my arm back, closing my hand over the damp spot where his mouth had been. I stood and moved away from the table, pacing to the far side away from him, trying to calm my body. I didn’t think I would ever become accustomed to his ways of proving points.

“Maybe,” I said, swallowing. “You can retract your fangs.”

“No creature can retract their fangs. Either you have them or you do not.”

“Well, then, perhaps you filed yours down to appear less dangerous.”

“No creature of Olympus would willingly destroy the weapons they were born with.”

“Then what are you?”

His chair shifted back, and I heard him move toward me. I froze in place.

When he spoke, his voice was near and low. “I know it bothers you not to know who and what I am. I know it worries you that I cannot say the things that would ease your mind. I know my excuses seem without worth or substance. If you would only—” His voice cut off with a guttural sound, like his tongue had been grasped.

“Only what?” I waited, listening, shaking.

“Turn around and put your palms against the wall.”

“What?” I breathed, the familiar terror rising again. “Why?”

“For once, can you do as I ask without questioning?”

“No!”

“So be it.”

The air spun me like a whirlwind, pressing me into the wall until I was forced to push back with my palms. Try as I might, and I tried, I could not turn or move. I grunted and gritted my teeth with effort.

“There. Now stay still.”

Weak. That was how I felt at that moment, and I hated it. I didn’t know what he planned to do, but I was tired of letting him control me. When I felt the air release me, I spun back around and kicked out a foot as hard as I could, raising my fists to fight, but my foot was caught, seemingly by the air, and I was shoved back around by the whirlwind again, my fingers splayed against the wall, feet flat on the floor.

“I applaud your efforts,” he said flatly. “Now this time. Do. Not. Move.”

I let out a scream loud enough to shake the room. And though I remained exactly where I was, I stomped my foot down with all my might, stomping until it hurt, jarring my bones.

My husband’s arms went around me from behind, wrapping securely around my stomach, his chest to my back, and his face pressed into my neck. He was strong. It was the most I’d ever felt of his body. I froze, taking in the sensation of every place where our bodies touched, from the backs of my calves and legs, my bottom, my back and shoulders, to my stomach and neck. Then quiet fell, and I knew his wings had encircled us. A cloud of warm, peppery honeysuckle, like a summer breeze, filled the small space, its loveliness making me whimper.

“Shh,” he whispered into my skin.

“What do you want?” I cried, feeling compressed and overwhelmed.

“This,” he whispered. “Only this.”

He was holding me. Gods, it felt…good. It felt real. I hated how he could cloud my judgement like this. I thought about what he had told me last time. “Do yourself a favor. Imagine I am Leodes.”

So, I did. I closed my eyes and imagined his dark hair and lashes. His handsome face buried in my neck. His strong, sun-golden arms wrapped around me. I imagined he cared. I imagined he loved me as he held me up, murmuring soothing sounds against my skin, and I wept.

NOT PROPER

Leodes smelled of honey. I woke in the dimness of dawn, my body damp, my most intimate parts aching. The remnants of my dream fluttered at the edge of my consciousness, the way our bodies had intertwined, never fully coupling. The body of Leodes with the voice and scent of my husband. Why had I woken? I recalled Mino’s barking from far away. I groaned, pulling my knees up under the covers. I wanted to go back to my dream.

“I can help if you’ll let me.”

I jolted with surprise, my entire body shuddering at the erotic undertones of my husband’s voice at the side of the bed. Too near. I rolled to face his invisible form and a blast of honey hit me, causing an upwelling of heat to jostle through my body, rattling downward until it settled at my core, purring. A deep blush filled my face, neck, and chest. I had been so overwhelmed with my dream that I hadn’t sensed him there.

“N-no,” I stuttered, clutching the blankets. “I’m…trying to sleep.”

“By denying me,” he said huskily. “You deny yourself.”

“I deny myself nothing,” I lied, ashamed that he could read my need so easily. Damn him. Damn the humiliation.

I sat up, raking my fingers through my hair, trying to get ahold of myself. I schooled my face and pressed my thighs together tightly, but that did not help my circumstances.

“Don’t you have to work?” I asked. “It’s daylight.”

“Tell me your dream.” His voice had moved. He was stalking around the bed again.

“I don’t recall it.”

“Is that so? Something to do with Leodes, I believe. Seeing as how you moaned his name.”

“I did not!” Why was I arguing? I clamped my mouth shut, and he chuckled, making his way round to the other side of the bed. “Where is Mino?” I asked.

“Outside with Sphinx.” His voice lowered, and I spied an indentation at the edge of the bed. He was sitting very near me. I couldn’t understand why my body hadn’t cooled and settled yet. The fear coursing through me should have been enough to chase it away. But his nearness was only making things worse, proof that he was capable of enchantment.

“Stop that,” I breathed. “Whatever you’re doing.”

“I am merely sitting and speaking.”

“No.” I shook my head, a hum singing through my thighs and upward. “You’re doing something. Some sort of mysticism.”

“I am being myself. Your soul feels me, the real me, and it speaks to your body.”

I let out a dry laugh and pulled the covers higher over my breasts, which were feeling more firm and taut than normal. My whole body trembled with fear and desire.

“Trust yourself, Psyche. Trust your soul.”

My head shook back and forth. I refused to fall for this. He scooted closer, and I held my breath.

“Do you think I prefer to force you to accept my affections?”

“No,” I answered. “I’m certain you would prefer if I’d mindlessly gave myself over and had my mind wiped of my own thoughts and choices.”

“You are wrong.” Anger edged his voice. “But if this is how you insist it must be, I will keep doing what I must.”

Just as they had the other night, the covers flew off me, making me scramble and scream, but there was no escaping. Hot hands grabbed my ankles, yanking me down, and then he was on top of me, pinning my arms over my head. I thrashed and yelled, but it only helped him to nestle his strong body between my legs. When I felt an unmistakable male bulge pressed hard against the softness of my own wet, sensitive core, I sucked in a gulp of air and became as still as stone.

We both breathed heavily, his natural scent intoxicating.

“All I want is a kiss,” he said, though his body was asking for far more.