Skin Magic Read online

  “Stop.”

  Her fingers froze on the curve of her belly. The rapid, almost painful thud of her heart filled her ears. With her eyes shut, his silence unnerved her, made her too aware of how nothing covered her, how her hair tumbled free of the clips and pins to fall loose down her spine. Her chest tightened. But she liked the awareness, the almost-feel of his gaze on her bare skin. This wasn’t her. And she liked that too.

  “Turn around, Larissa.” She did and sucked in a quick breath as his rough hands took her hips. A wry smile twisted his voice. “Lean forward and hold on.” With him behind her, she could open her eyes. She stared at the wooden bar arching between the bedposts. “If you want to see our contract through…”

  She gripped the bar, the wood warm and smooth under her fingers. Her hair hung over her face, the scents of rose oil and lavender pulling into her lungs. A tight ache pulled low in her belly, the now familiar feel of approaching pleasure. She couldn’t deny the sexual magic that Xander wove in her flesh, didn’t want to, and she sighed as his hands curved around her buttocks.

  “Growing to like this?” His soft voice brushed against her shoulder blade. Then the heat of his thighs, hips pressed against her bare skin and she flexed her hands tight around the bar. The hard length of his cock pushed between her buttocks. “Please the spirits and the magic will bind tight.” His hands spread over her buttocks, his thumbs teasing, light little circles that pulsed dizzying need through her flesh.

  A finger breached her ass and she gasped. Fire and pleasure had the ache between her thighs flaring. He stroked her, another finger stretching her. Already fresh coils of need unwound in her belly and she groaned when the blunt head of his slicked cock pushed hard against her hole.

  “Relax, Larissa.” His calloused palm ran in a slow, hot caress up her spine and it eased her muscles, sank warmth into her flesh. “Yes… That’s it.” The head of his cock pushed into her and she groaned. “Easy…” The stroke of his palm, his fingers massaging her flowed into the slow, slow push of him into her.

  Her hips rolled, pushing back, wanting him, wanting him to satisfy the ache tightening her flesh. She needed to fulfill her contract with him, but by all his Sardisian spirits, she wanted him. Needed him, buried hard in her—

  Xander gripped her hip, his fingers hard, and she gasped. He sank into her with a final groan. “My pleasure.” His words rose just above a growl and her flesh clenched, hollow, aching. The heat of his thighs and hips pressed hard against her flesh…and then he pulled back.

  Larissa’s low moan escaped her and her knuckles stretched white as her fire curled up her spine. She crushed her eyes shut, her flesh resisting, but she wanted more, more of him, faster, harder.

  Xander’s hand stroked her ribs, waist and slipped around over the curve of her belly. She sucked in a breath, anticipation beating hard in her flesh. His fingers teased over her curls, circling, pushing… His hips slapped hard against hers as his finger found her sweet spot. She cried out against the fiery rush of sensation assaulting her body. Yet, it wasn’t enough and she ground back against him, driving him deeper into her ass.

  “Oh, you definitely like this…”

  The hot satisfaction in his voice only added to the pulse of need flaring in her belly. Her old life ebbed away and only this man remained, a man who stroked into her with increasing pace, his fingers rubbing, pushing in time with that delicious rhythm. Tension thickened in her belly, and she thrust back against him, the hard slap of his flesh against hers, his soft, rising groans only adding to the coils of need burning hot through her body.

  The promise of her release, the fire and heat of it drew close, so close she could almost taste its glory. “More.” The word was a groan expelled on a short, tight breath. “I need…”

  “This?”

  Xander slammed into her and her spine arched, his name ripping from her mouth as he grazed her sweet spot. White fire surged over her mind, coalescing liquid heat flowing through her flesh. And still he fucked her, his fingers biting hard into her hips, harder, faster, riding her through her wild release, building it, promising—

  Another heavy wave of molten joy hit her as Xander shuddered and groaned, emptying himself into her. For an endless moment, Larissa simply breathed, the fierce wash of satisfaction slowly easing from her damp body. The hard grip of Xander’s fingers loosened and he stroked her spine in an easy glide. They settled on her buttocks. With a soft groan, he pulled himself free.

  Larissa ached at the loss of him. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the new life her contract with him would buy her. Freedom from the bind of being an aristocrat, of dutifully occupying Avaro Balsai’s unappetizing bed, of staying alive. She leaned against the bar, flexing her strained fingers and watched Xander pad to a small table set beneath the room’s shuttered window.

  Lamplight gilded his naked perfection. Yes, she could see why Rhodoi matrons sought him out, but he didn’t sleep with them? The torment of that? She stroked a hand over her belly, feeling the familiar curl of need growing there. Yes, it had to be sharp indeed.

  “Why do you work here?”

  Xander didn’t look up as he dipped a washcloth into a bowl of water. He wrung it out. “Convenience.”

  All right, not the answer she was expecting. He cleaned himself and dipped a fresh washcloth into the bowl. “How so?”

  Xander turned, a wry smile lifting his lips. “I am a Sardisian priest. We’re not exactly…honored…here in the City of the Rhodoi. Here,” he glanced around the small room, his gaze almost thoughtful, “I can serve the spirits as they direct.” His attention returned to her, his gaze running over her nakedness with a look of hot interest. Embarrassment baked her face and she cursed it. “They choose who finds me. No one unwelcome to them crosses my door.”

  He pointed to the bed. “Take off your slippers and lie on your belly.”

  Larissa moved without thought, only catching herself as she rolled onto her stomach. “You like ordering me about.”

  “Yes, I do.” He smirked at her. “A gift from the spirits.”

  Larissa bit back a smile, watching him climb onto the bed beside her. He slapped the damp cloth against her backside and she yelped. He grinned, but dipped it between the cleft of her buttocks, the grin deepening as she couldn’t help the twist of her hips. The cloth pressed against still-sensitive flesh and Larissa pushed into his touch.

  He watched her writhing hips, desire hot in his gaze, and it flared fresh, intoxicating heat under her own skin. How many times would she, could she want him? Xander was addictive.

  “Turn over.” His words were raw, needy and Larissa obeyed, the last part of her contract burning through her thoughts. Xander found her gaze as he dropped the cloth to the floor. His hands slid down her thighs, parting them, opening her to him. Her heart thudded, not with shame, but with desire. “Do you wish me to complete the contract?”

  The press of his thumbs into the tender skin of her inner thigh made her reply natural, instinctive. “Yes.”

  “Are you certain?” He teased the crease of her thighs and she bucked, a soft cry escaping her. “The spirits can be kind or cruel. Your beauty…” His gaze roved hot over her belly and breasts before he found her eyes. The hunger in his eyes gripped her. “May be lost to you.”

  For him not to look at her with such need spiked an unexpected pain in her chest, but she had made her choice. She would enjoy Xander one final time and his magic would keep her alive. And the memory of him would warm the cold nights of her future. “I know. Seal the contract.”

  Xander pulled in a deep breath and his eyes closed. His beauty, carved in golden lamplight, had her desperate to run her hands over his perfection, lick and kiss it. The grip of his fingers, holding her open, only tightened the ache.

  He opened his eyes and dark shadow filled him, she could almost taste it. The light flickered and air brushed over her skin in a cooling rush. Her heartbeat jumped. The power of his magic filled Xander and the first rush of pro
mised release surged at his change. Drops of molten gold burned in his gaze. She ached to lift her hips up to him, offer herself and Xander would take her, eat her, devour her. As if reading her thoughts, the smile curving his mouth promised pure wickedness.

  “Time for you to really scream, Larissa.”

  The first lick of his tongue tore a cry from her, her fingers clutching at his thick hair. Clever little flicks of his curling tongue twisted spirals of pleasure up from her pelvis. His tongue lapped and teased, his soft, satisfied moans, the hard grip of his calloused hands on her shaking thighs, had her arching into him, demanding more.

  Her fingers fisted in his hair. “This is your pleasure?”

  Xander’s laughter brushed hot over her mons and his dark eyes seared her. “You have no idea.”

  He lapped her, long licks that taunted her, forced her to moan, curse him, fight the tightening grip of his hands. More, she needed more. His tongue curled, pushing deeper into her flesh, a rhythmic tasting firing sparks of light behind her eyes. Her nipples peaked and the cool kiss of air heightened the rising tension riding her body.

  His thumb pressed hard against her sweet spot and he—Larissa crushed her eyes shut, fighting the rise of her release because she wanted the raw tension to last—he fucked her with his tongue. The knowledge, the thought of it blazed and her spine arched under the fierce glory of her release, the power of it smashing over her mind, white-hot and scorching, her scream echoing around the small room.

  Larissa sank to the softness of the bed, her body spent, boneless even as Xander teased small licks over her flesh. He pressed a wet kiss below her navel and she shivered as she felt the curve of his smile. A slow, blissful sigh escaped her. Her fingers stroked over the damp tangle of his hair, wishing in that moment that she didn’t have to run, leave the man who chased tender butterfly kisses across her belly. “Xander, I—”

  The door crashed back, the metal lock splintering under the force of a heavy boot. Armed soldiers in heavy leather armor stormed the room, swords unsheathed.

  Larissa shrieked, scrambling up the bed as she tried to wrap a heavy cover over her nakedness. Panic grabbed her. She recognized the first man from the scars running down his lean cheek. Avaro’s chief bodyguard. Fear bloomed hot in her chest. Her betrothed had found her.

  Xander leapt to his feet, anger tensing his muscles. “I have a city license.” He stood toe to toe with the bodyguard, his fingers clenched into fists. “You have no right—”

  “Where is she?” Avaro Balsai’s heavy voice cut across Xander and the thump of boots echoed in the corridor beyond the room. “Does she think she can disgrace me by whoring out her flesh?”

  He stood in the doorway, a short, stocky man in ornate robes, his fingers thick with rings. His dark eyes narrowed, a deep frown forming across his brow, and Larissa’s fingers fisted the sheet that covered her. She swallowed, her throat dry, fear making words impossible. Avaro simply stared…and said nothing.

  Anger fired over her terror and she straightened on the bed. If she was going to be damned by him, then she wasn’t going to cringe in fear. “Well…?”

  He blinked and a slow flush worked its way up his sagging cheeks. His hands flexed, his numerous rings scraping against each other. His bow was quick, sudden. “My apologies, lady. I was told the Lady Larissa Valeriae—” Avaro bit off more words and closed his eyes. Larissa could almost feel his mortification. But then his mouth thinned and his inward anger was obvious. He jerked his hand to his guards. “Out.” He stepped back, waiting for his guards to troop past him. His gaze flitted over Xander before he briefly looked to her. Then he stared at the floor. “Again, lady, my apologies.”

  And he disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

  Larissa blinked, staring at Xander as he padded to the door and closed it. He pulled over a chair set beside a dark wood cabinet and shoved it hard against the broken door. “He didn’t…” She ran a shaking hand over her face, trapping her fingers in the loose tangle of her hair. She paused. Her voice had changed, something soft, almost husky. Had the spirits allowed him in so that he could see her change? And she obviously had changed. “He looked straight at me.”

  A smile pulled at Xander’s mouth. “Your contract is sealed, lady.” Something wistful touched his voice and he didn’t look at her. Instead, he pulled on his breeches and belted them low on his hips.

  Larissa pressed her fingers to her face, trying to feel the difference in her appearance. A smaller nose perhaps? A different arch to her eyebrows. Whatever it was had Xander unable or unwilling to look at her. “A mirror.” Her voice cracked on the word and she swallowed. “I want to see…”

  Xander gave her a small copper disc, polished into a sharp shine. He turned away to wash, splashing water over his face, running this fingers through his hair. She felt the deliberate act of it, his deliberate avoidance, and fear dropped a hot stone into her gut.

  She held up the mirror and the woman who stared back at her was…beautiful. Tentative fingers touched her smooth, clear cheek, traced again over her perfect nose. A sculptor couldn’t have carved a more perfect face. A bark of laughter escaped her. “From the way you…” She waved a hand at him as he straightened and wiped a dry cloth over his jaw. “I thought I was a monster.”

  “You are truly beautiful, lady.”

  Lady. That was the second time he’d called her that. “Xander?” His name sounded wrong on her lips and she winced.

  He rubbed at his jaw and a brief smile touched his mouth. “I’d grown used to the other you.” A soft laugh escaped him and he stared at the rug beneath his bare feet. He winced. “I didn’t think it would be this difficult.”

  “Difficult?”

  He looked up and his focus darted over her features, as if taking in the changes he’d wrought in her face. A sadness gripped him and it formed a fist in her gut. She shuffled off the bed, taking the sheet with her. She touched his jaw and he almost flinched. “Xander…?”

  “Get dressed.” He stepped back from her, backing into his washstand. Water sloshed over the rim of the water bowl. “It’s time for you to leave.”

  His rejection hurt, a sharp and unexpected stab to her gut. She drew in a tight breath. “You pleasure is over and now it’s time for me to leave?”

  Xander didn’t reply and folded his arms across his bare chest. “You’re in the protection of the spirits until you leave the city.” His lips pressed together. “What money and jewelry did you run with?”

  Larissa wanted to lash words at him, ask him why he would care…but she didn’t. This had been an arrangement. Nothing more. Now she had to dress and find an inn close to the city gates. With the dawn, they would open the gates and she could buy passage to Halys. From there, a ship could take her…anywhere.

  She held back a sigh and picked up her linen trews, stepping into them and cinching them tight around her waist. Pushing her feet into her slippers, she moved to the door and stretched up for her clothes. “I have enough money,” she murmured. She shrugged into her linen shift, tugging it down over her breasts. “My parents…” The words sounded odd, as if she were talking about other people, not the ones who had disappeared into the Great Palace the morning before. Her throat closed and tears burned behind her eyes. “Always…always protected me.”

  Xander cursed softly, his impatience obvious.

  Larissa’s head snapped up. Was he offended by her grief for her parents? “What?” She yanked the chiton over her head. Angry, shaking fingers knotted it under her breasts. “Waiting for another woman to find you?”

  His mouth thinned. “No.”

  “Then what? I seal the contract and you can’t even look at me anymore?” She picked up her cloak and swung it around her shoulders, clipping the brooch to secure it. Her bag followed, the satchel falling heavy against her hip. “So, I will say good night, Xander.”

  She pushed the chair from the door, her stomach leaden. It was ridiculous of her to regret leaving him, to be hurt by his d
ismissal. He was a Sardisian priest. He followed the path of the spirits.

  “Larissa.” Xander took her arm, stopping her from pulling back the broken door. “Wait.”

  She froze, his touch suddenly foreign, strange. Her eyes closed. “Xander…”

  “The spirits showed me your face and said I had to make a choice.” He eased his tight grip on her arm, stroking down to her hand until his fingers covered hers. “Come with me.”

  She let him guide her back to the bed and he sat her on the edge of the thick mattress. Xander took her hands, turning over her palms. His thumbs stroked over her skin, light, exploring, tracing creases she didn’t recognise. “You or them.”

  Larissa stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’ve lived here for over a year,” he twitched a smile as he glanced around his small room, “because I was waiting for you.”

  Her chest tightened and her thoughts span. None of what he said or how he acted made sense. She closed her eyes and fought to focus. He’d been waiting for her because his spirits had offered him a choice. A year of waiting, of having her face in his thoughts…and now that face was gone.

  Larissa let out a slow breath. “The woman you’re waiting for. I’m not her anymore.”

  He laughed, something soft, wry, pressed an unexpected kiss against her forehead and squeezed her hands. “For a moment, I was dangerously shallow.” He sighed. “You’re my choice.” His mouth stilled against her skin and his voice became brittle. “Would you refuse to be the chosen of a Sardisian priest?”

  “Xander…” She pulled back to look at him, finding his eyes serious, his face set. Her heart beat too loud in her ears. His chosen? She only had the briefest knowledge of the Sardisians, more rumor than truth, passed to her by servants and gossiping friends. But it sounded as if he wanted her. Panic and delight warred in her. “My life is upside down, wiped away. I truly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ve served the spirits.” A wry smile lifted his mouth. His thumbs traced the lines on her palms. “Served them well and now, if I choose you, they’ll release me.”