FOREVER KNIGHTS: #3 Forsaking the Vanquished

Her eyes skid sideways but he’d have sworn a smile danced about her lips. “Yes.” She nodded. “I suppose I walked into that.”

“I wish you’d walk into me.” He slung his arm over the back of the chair. Giving her a meaningful stare as he gestured down his body.

Hungering for the feel of her against me again.

“Why do you always do that?” She snapped the book shut.

“What?”

“Say such things to me? Do you think me a harlot?”

What? No. He was certain his shock was written over his face.

“Nay! I’ve never given a woman coin for her time.” He shook his head puzzled. “I want you because you’re just the opposite…”

“What does that mean?”

“It means your interesting to me.” He sighed. "I sense you've let perilously few men inside you. And even fewer near that tiny black heart of yours."

He pointed toward her chest.

“Interesting?” Her voice rose as though insulted.

Was that the only thing she heard?

“Precious.” He corrected.

“Precious?” Her voice softened, baffled. “How so?”

“You’re rare, beautiful, enigmatic. I wish to know you. To be part of you.”

“Part of me?” Her lips turned as she eyed him deciding if it was another crude comment.

“I’m not speaking physically, though that’s a fact." He said dismissively. "I’m speaking metaphorically. Part of how you see things. Someone you share things with. Someone you want to be close to.”

“How can I be close to you when I know nothing about you?”

“Do you want to? Other than how to kill me, I mean.” His face was calculatedly unreadable.

“Perhaps I do.” She smiled. And hiccupped. Eyes widening as the sound erupted. She covered her mouth, blushing.

A trace of humanity.

He chuckled. “What would you want to know?”

“Who are you?”

“You call me King of the Castle of Water.”

“Who were you before?”

“I was a Templar Knight that was granted immortality by a Fallen Angel.”

“Ha. Ha.” She scoffed.

He looked at her steadily.

“Must everything be a joke to you?” She asked, lips tightening.

“I suppose so. For whenever I’m honest people think me jesting.”

“So, stop jesting so often.”

“Why?” His arm dropped from the chairback as he lifted his glass to take another drink.

Her eyes narrowed. “Because you use it as a mask to hide what you really feel.”

He lowered the glass. Gold eyebrow lifting with interest. “Is that so?”

“It is.” She strolled over. Evading his gaze. To his shock she put her hand against the back of his chair as she leaned around the red one to reach the bowl of nuts. Sliding it across the table next to him gave him an alluring breath of wildflowers and a teasing sense of her heat.

Her eyes lifted to his. “I see you Sebastian…”

His gaze zeroed in on her. Well-aware she returned his words. And I like it.

That and her nearness.

His growl rumbled in his throat. “You’ve some power over me.”

She paused. Eying him. “Meaning?”

He pointedly glanced at her hand so close to him, on the chairback.

“And what if it was here?” She slid it down to drop over his shoulder. Sliding it up toward his neck.

“You’re toying with fire.” He gave her a sideways look. Warning her.

I'll throw you to the floor right here in my library and take you for my own.

Despite his dangerous tone, her fingers glided up his shoulder along his neck to fist in the hair at the back of his head.

He nearly shot out of his chair at the touch.

“Or here?” Gathering a handful of smooth gold strands, she pulled them back. Forcing his jaw to jut upward and his neck to stretch.

His cheeks sucked in and his eyes flashed gold. Hardening. Body coiled like a spring.

He launched to his feet and she let him go. Staring up at him a bit warily.

She should be. He descended on her like a hungry predator. Backing her up along the aisles.

She went too far without turning and her back slammed into the ledge of a shuttered window. She drew a quaking breath. Mouth widening in horror.

His hands dropped to the stone on each side of her hips, pushing her back, until her shoulders were planted against the wooden shutters.

“What are you doing?” She asked in a panicked voice.

Too late for fear of consequence now, Sweetheart.

“First you tease a lion then fear how it will react.” He turned his head sideways. “Sometimes it’s just too late to take back what you’ve done.”

His mouth fell to hers. Moving her lips apart with the force of years’ worth of passion.

Visions danced over his eyes of her moving through the aisles. Her step a graceful sway.

How many daunting looks had she tossed over her shoulder at me? How many times had those pretty blue eyes flicked to look at me under hooded lashes? I’ve had enough!

I want her now. His panther was beginning a low rumble. Vibrating his chest and making his feet shift restlessly with the need to mark her.

Suddenly he was kissing her forcefully. He expected rage or objection. He feared she’d be afraid.

Instead she moaned softly, and her hands pressed to his chest, wrapping around his waist to reach his back.

He felt his body hardening in response.

Abruptly she jerked her face to the side and pushed him back, sidestepping to escape his reach. “I-I can’t-”

He stood where he was. A black silhouette with gold eyes glowing like floating orbs in the dark.

She was staring at him as if he’d just lit on fire.

Which I think I have. I will have another taste of that.