She closed her eyes against a dizzy rush. Damn, she was going to have to reach out to him soon. Maybe tomorrow. She just couldn’t endure his dutiful touch—not when she wanted his heart too. As a child, she would have been grateful for her mother’s embrace, whatever the reason. Now she knew that touch without affection hurt all the way down to her soul.
Another dizzy wave assailed her. She dug her fists into the sheets. Suddenly, Marrok was poised over her, hard thighs spreading hers wide.
“You need me and you did not say so,” he chided as soft hands soothed her face. “Come to me when you need, anytime you need. I will care for you.”
Such tenderness. Please let it be real.
Olivia closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears shimmering there. “I’m fine.”
“You are lying.”
He smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her in gentle atonement. Her emotions were up, down, inside out. She wished she had the courage to ask if he actually cared about her, but wasn’t in a hurry to break her own heart.
Instead, she asked with her kiss, nudging his lips apart with her own. Marrok grunted in surprise, then barged in and settled deep, as if he planned to stay all night. Long, languorous slides of his tongue, soft brushes of his lips, a melding of breaths and mouths and needs.
Something was different. He’d always been gentle, even tender, that one time in the hall aside. This…She couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Olivia,” he murmured softly. “I have been busy, and we have been at odds of late. I dislike that.”
She hated it too, along with the feeling that she’d left her heart exposed, and he could either embrace or trample it as he pleased. But that didn’t stop her from responding when he again sank deep into her mouth with a soft kiss, spreading the sizzle of pleasure throughout her.
“If I am cynical or have hurt you, forgive me.”
He could never apologize for what hurt her most: not loving her. Nor should he. The foolishness had all been hers. Olivia had known better than to fall in love with a man whose heart had been untouched for a millennium and a half. She wasn’t lovable or a beauty—even if she felt that way in his arms.
Instead, Marrok had apologized for the fact he could not be swayed from suspecting her father. And Olivia couldn’t bear the thought that he was right.
Even if she let go of her anger now, a confrontation about her father or her le Fay blood was bound to come up again. Maybe they were just doomed to be at odds.
She’d barely finished that thought when Marrok kissed her so sweetly, her toes curled. Her belly tightened with heat. Maybe their end was near, but right now she could melt into him, take another memory.
Long, slow strokes of his tongue imitated what he would do to her body. The fire blazed between her thighs; Olivia surrendered. He wended his way down her body, pushing up her T-shirt until he stripped it off, then tossed it onto the floor. As soon as her torso was bare, he latched on to her sensitive nipples, one after the other. She hissed in a breath and grabbed his hair, hanging on while sensations roiled inside her.
Down lower, his hands went, divesting her of her panties A tug and a rip, and they were gone.
His hand covered her mound, then thoroughly explored her every crevice and fold. She gasped and nearly climbed out of her skin as need burned. She grew slick. Marrok murmured his approval. Stupid or not, she wanted him, even if this meant nothing to him.
Almost there…So incredibly close she could weep. But he was clever and patient, dancing away from her sensitive spots, allowing her to cool down before he revved her up again.
Then she was begging. The words fell out of her mouth, and she didn’t care how they sounded. She wanted him inside her. She needed him. Now.
His expression ranged from possessive to determined when he took her in one controlled thrust. Pleasure spiraled instantly, sending her over the edge, into a morass of sensation that nearly drowned her. But he wasn’t done.
Marrok held her firmly, thighs wide. Deep, measured thrusts came one after the other. Suddenly, the pleasure was ramping up again. Pleas rolled off her tongue as he overwhelmed her with ecstasy, even as she forced herself to bottle up her words of love.
Abruptly, he withdrew, flipped her over, and lifted her to her hands and knees. Before she could say anything, Marrok was back inside her, sinking deep, his chest draping her back, his fingers driving her wild. In this position, she felt every vein and ridge of his sex. The friction of every thrust enflamed her even more.
“Come for me again,” he growled. “We will release together.”
His hot breath hit her neck, sending shivers down her back that blended with the tingles he generated. Sensations converged in her belly, sliding down her legs. Pressure built, then a huge explosion rendered her breathless. Her vision faded for a moment. She sank to the bed in a heap as Marrok pumped inside her once more, then shouted her name in a cry of ecstasy.
His arms gave out, and he covered her body with his. “God, woman. What you do to me…”
Olivia resisted the urge to cry. The pleasure was amazing, but more and more, she didn’t care about energy. She cared about his feelings, about having his love. But yearning for a man who had loved no one for fifteen centuries was hopeless.
She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. He wanted to be uncursed and he wanted to die. For that, he needed her. She had pledged to help Marrok end his misery and didn’t want the man she loved to suffer or be unhappy. If the curse was broken, his torment would be over.
But her own would just begin.
Marrok withdrew and padded to the bathroom. The door closed, then water ran from the sink. Olivia sank into the bed and sobbed. God, why hadn’t she listened to her own warning before her feelings deepened? Because she’d wanted and needed him so badly.
Chirp, chirp.
The odd sound came from directly above her. She opened her eyes to the sight of a little white bird. Freaky. How did a bird get into the room?
“Olivia.”
Now it was talking. In her father’s voice. Even freakier.
“Yes.”
“Quick! I’m outside. Can you invite me in? I’ve got something to share with you that will help Marrok. I want you to know you can trust me.”
She glanced at the closed bathroom door. The shower began to run. And her father was outside, waiting to show her something that would prove that her faith in him hadn’t been misplaced. Still, she must be careful.
“I don’t have the power to invite you in.”
“I understand. I’m just outside. This will only take a moment.”
Tossing on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she crept downstairs and, at the front door, hesitated. But if her father had something that would help Marrok, she couldn’t just stay here and hide.
Opening the door, Olivia saw Richard Gray in the distance, breathing hard, as if the hounds of hell had been chasing him. Cautiously, she drew near, comforted that help was likely just a scream away if she needed it.