The Scribe - Hunter Elizabeth (библиотека книг бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

His voice was a rough growl. “Finished punishing him?”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His arm slipped lower, looping around her waist and pulling her into his chest. Then his mouth met hers in a yearning kiss. Hungry. Biting. Rhys’s lips pressed against hers, and his tongue licked out, teasing along her bottom lip until she gasped. He danced along the edge of desire, his hands holding her carefully, his mouth doing wicked things to her own. After a few heated moments, he pulled away, his green eyes practically glowing in the moonlight.

“Well,” he said. “That was…”

Her cheeks were flush with embarrassment. “It was definitely…”

“Fine.” He sat back and his shoulders slumped a little. “It was fine.”

And Ava felt exactly the same. “Totally and utterly… fine.”

They both let the silence hang for a moment.

“Why wasn’t it more than fine?” Rhys asked.

“It should have been. Good technique.”

“Well, that’s nice to hear, considering there’s been a necessary lapse in practice.”

She patted his thigh. “No, you’re good.”

“Just good?” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Maybe I should try again.”

Ava couldn’t stop the smile. “Please don’t. It would just be weird at this point.”

“Totally agree.” He squeezed her shoulder.

Silence fell between them again, and Ava felt the depths of her own stupidity. Her kiss had been unfair to Rhys. Unfair to herself. Rhys was her friend. Would this change things? Would he resent her? She was mentally cataloguing her faults when she heard him speak.

“It’s all right, love.”

She whispered, “I wish it had been more than fine.”

“I’m not him,” Rhys said. “I think he’ll figure it out soon. He’s very bright, despite being an idiot. But he holds honor above self-interest, which is both wonderful and maddening.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie. We’re past that now. And I’d be lying if I pretended not to know how he feels about you.”

“I’m not…” She struggled to put it into words. “I’m not used to expecting happiness, Rhys. I’d probably punch it if it looked me in the face. So really, I’m as much of an idiot as he is.”

“His voice sounds different to you, doesn’t it?”

She blinked. “How did you know that?”

He seemed to draw away. “I didn’t. Just a guess.”

“What does that mean?”

A slow smile crept across his face. “I don’t think I’m going to tell you. It’ll be too fun to watch you find out on your own.”

Pounding steps approached in the night. Malachi appeared out of the black, shirtless and dripping despite the cool evening air. His talesm seemed to glow when he caught sight of her, a low silver light in the darkness. He said nothing, shooting Rhys a glare as he walked past them and into the house.

“Has he kissed you?” Rhys asked when Malachi was gone.

“Yes. On the island.”

“Was it more than fine?”

Her breath left her body in a rush of memories. “So much more than fine.”

He nudged her shoulder with his own. “Then don’t be stubborn. Go.”

Fifteen minutes and another glass of wine later, Ava knocked on his door. Malachi opened it, holding a towel. He’d showered, and a few drops of water still clung to his tanned shoulders. He wore a pair of loose pants and a guarded expression.

“What do you want?”

“I kissed Rhys.”

Now she knew she wasn’t imagining it. The tattoos pulsed silver in the dim light of the hall. Ava forced her eyes back to Malachi’s face, which was locked down tight. Only a tic in his jaw told Ava her words had even been heard.

His voice was low and thick with tension. “Get that out of your system?”

“Felt a little like kissing my brother.”

He dropped the towel and tugged her into the room. “This won’t.”

Chapter Thirteen

With one hand, he pulled her into the room, and with the other, Malachi slammed the door shut. He tugged her into his chest and captured her lips with his own. Desire roared through his body, thick with tension after two hundred years of fasting and a lifetime of waiting. For her. For Ava.

Reshon.

Malachi knew as he held her. He could feel the power pulsing through his talesm, the bare skin over his heart aching to be marked by Ava’s magic. He could feel it singing over her skin, her touch igniting the fierce passion he’d buried for so long.

Backing Ava against the door, he curled his body over hers, bracing his arms on either side of her head, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Do you want this? Say so now.” He dangled on the edge of forever. All he needed was a word.

He saw the edges of doubt cloud her eyes, but behind it was a desperate hunger that mirrored his own. He pressed closer.

“Do you want me, Ava?”

Malachi saw her mouth form the word before he heard it. “Yes.”

His control snapped.

Reaching down, he gripped her hips, lifting her against his chest as Ava wrapped her legs around his waist. A fierce possessiveness overtook him as Malachi pressed her against the wall and ravaged her mouth. He held her with one arm while the other tugged at the back of her hair, baring her neck to his kisses. He inhaled the heat of her skin as he trailed his tongue up the line of her throat, pausing to press a gentle kiss at her neck where he could feel her voice hum.

“More,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“I need… Malachi—”

“I know.” Groaning with desire, he swung her around and walked across the room. “Bed.”

It was small, barely fitting his own tall frame, but it would have to do. He’d find more fitting accommodations later, but for now Ava was tearing at her clothes as he carried her, as desperate for contact as he was. He could feel the heat of her arms branding him. Feel the draw of energy as if touching a live wire. He lay her down and slid next to her, suddenly aware of the manic energy that hummed underneath her skin. It took everything in him to cage his own desire and think of her.

“Ava.” He took a deep breath and pressed a hand over her heart, halting the fingers that were fumbling with the buttons. “Ava, wait.”

She stopped, eyes narrowing. “You better not be backing out of this. If you’ve got some noble idea about being cautious or taking things slow—”

“Be quiet and let me undress you, woman.” His low growl shocked Ava out of her anger. “I’ve been thinking about this for over two hundred years.”

Brushing her hands away, he slipped open the first button, and Ava watched with wide eyes as he bent down and kissed the newly bare skin. A single finger trailed from her neck down, leaving a faint gold trail in its wake. Malachi traced a calming spell over her skin and felt her pulse stop racing. The urgency was still there, but as the magic took hold, the frantic energy was drawn into his own body, feeding his passion as he slowly stoked hers.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, slipping another button open. His lips tasted again as he trailed another charm between her breasts. His tongue followed the gold letters that bloomed there, and Ava’s back arched in silent pleasure.

“Malachi…”

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he whispered. “I want to hear.”

“Hot.”

“Yes?” He flicked open another button, spreading her shirt and flicking open the lace that bound her breasts.

“Aches… Keep touching me. Don’t stop.”

“Never.” Her skin bared to his eyes, Malachi stopped for a moment to stare. With a groan, he closed his mouth over one sensitive peak as Ava clutched the hair on the back of his head. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the taste of her. The salty bite of her skin and the lingering scent she wore intoxicated him. He would never get enough.

“Too much!” she finally gasped. “It’s too much.”

“Shhh.” He soothed her, laying his forehead in the smooth valley between her breasts. He forced his mouth away from her skin as his fingers made quick work of the rest of her shirt. Slipping it off, he took a moment to gaze at the beauty spread before him.