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

Ava’s skin still glowed with the traces of magic he’d written over her heart. A small bruise was forming on the rise of her left breast where his mouth had taken her skin. Malachi forced back the urge to mark her. There would be time. For her, he had eternity.

Shaking his head in wonder, he said, “For you? It is never too much.”

“Faster,” she urged.

“No.” He bent his head again, fighting back his own desire to take and claim and spend himself in the cradle of her body. He loosened the button of her jeans before he slid them down over her legs. Each newly revealed limb received the attention of his lips. His fingers. Magic flowed between them. He could feel her energy and smiled, knowing one day she would mark him too.

“When you find your power,” he murmured in her ear as he stretched out beside her on the narrow bed, “you will sing to me. And I will feel your magic as you feel mine.”

“Is that what I’m feeling?” she said with a smile, throwing one leg over his thigh and pulling him closer. “That’s a lot of magic.”

He grinned, pleased by the laughter in her eyes.

“Ava,” he whispered again. “Reshon.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can hear you. Inside. All I hear is you.”

He stilled his hands. “And what do I sound like?”

“Perfect,” she choked out. “You sound… perfect.”

He saw the tears forming, so he came to her, knowing there was no pleasure she could ask for that he would not give. He ran a hand from the nape of her neck, down her spine, picturing the spells he would mark her with. Spells to strengthen her. Claim her. Mark her as his mate as she would mark him as hers.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“You.”

Now it was his breath that was coming faster as she reached down and took him in her hand. His head fell back and Malachi felt Ava press kisses along the line of his jaw as she worked his pants down over his hips. Then her lips trailed over the markings on his collarbone. His shoulder. Her delicate teeth closed over his nipple for a moment before she continued across his chest. He was on the edge of losing control.

“Ava, stop.” His head swam with the rush of sensation.

“Really?”

“Uh… no, not really.”

He was light-headed with desire. Intoxicated by her touch. She might not have been able to use Irina magic, but Ava had a power all her own. Her energy was mounting again, feeding him, stoking the fire that built between them. They were face-to-face, staring into each other’s eyes while Malachi’s fingers moved over her skin.

“So warm.” He buried his face in her neck and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him there. “I need you.”

“Then take me,” she whispered. “And don’t let go.”

He lifted her thigh and drew her forward, sliding into her body with aching slowness as he drank in the sensations. Heat. Pleasure. His instincts roused, and he groaned into her mouth as they rocked together. Skin against skin. Lips melded together. Push. Pull. He felt the blood rushing in his veins. Felt their breath mingle as their pleasure built. And when he felt Ava begin to fall over the edge, he followed.

He would follow her anywhere.

“What does ‘jah-num’ mean?”

“Hmm?” He was drowsy after the third time he’d taken her. Sex energized Irin men, but eventually, even the strongest man tired. Ava was like a loose rag draped across his chest. She had tried to move away when she started to fall asleep, but he wouldn’t allow it, pulling her closer, still needing the contact.

“You say it sometimes. When we’re together. ‘Jah—’”

“Oh, can?m. It means… my darling.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “My life.” More kisses along her cheek, ignoring the slight tension his words evoked. He didn’t hold back. “It means ‘my soul.’” The shell of her ear. Loose lazy brushes of his lips that soothed her and fed his need. He had forgotten what it meant to be held.

“Can?m.” She tried the word out, whispering as her fingers traced over the talesm on his chest. She circled down to the blank area on the skin over his heart. “There’s nothing here.”

“I’ve never taken a mate.”

“Never?” A slow smile curved her lips. “You don’t make love like a virgin, Malachi.”

He could feel the quiet laugh from her, and he reached down, pinching her thigh before his hand spread to soothe the sting.

“There was an Irina… before the Rending, there was someone. We were planning on a union. Our families liked each other. We liked each other very much. We were very compatible. And yes, we had been together. But she broke it off.”

“What?” She picked her head up and frowned. “Don’t tell me you weren’t good enough for her. That’s ridiculous.”

He shook his head, smiling at her annoyance that another had found him lacking. It made him want to crow with pride. “No. She found her reshon. Her true mate.”

“Reshon?”

He nodded slowly, sliding his hands down to lie along her waist. Ava was extraordinary. He could already feel her energy mounting—even away from humans in the isolation of the scribe house, she shone.

“It doesn’t always happen, but it’s something we all hope for. She found her reshon, so I let her go. It would have been foolish to continue courting her when her heart had already left.”

“That cheating—”

He covered her mouth with his own. When he drew back, her eyes were blinking with languor again, and the irritation had fled. “It wasn’t like that. It hurt her to break off our relationship, because she did care for me. But I did not fight it, even though it pained me, too. A reshon is a blessing. Your destiny in another person. The perfect complement to yourself. Not everyone finds a reshon, but those who do are considered doubly blessed. And very, very powerful.”

“Why?” Her gaze fell to his chest again, and Malachi wondered what she would ask him to create there. The mating mark was dictated by the Irina, a visible expression of her mate’s dedication and love. She traced the smooth bare skin and said, “Why more powerful?”

“Imagine…” He drew her up so they were face-to-face on the narrow bed. “Imagine a person created for you. Another being so in tune with you that their voice is the clearest you’ve ever heard in your mind.” He saw her eyes widen, so he looked away and trailed a finger over her shoulder. “Her touch sharpens your senses. Her lips…” He pressed a light kiss to her open mouth. “…feed your soul. A bond like that strengthens both. One magic feeds the other. Within it, Irin and Irina become who we are meant to be.”

Malachi could feel Ava’s hands tighten on his shoulders. Knew she was quietly absorbing the words he’d said. He didn’t want to push her. He knew she was his reshon. Looking back, it had been evident from their first kiss. But he was heeding his watcher’s advice in another way. He could give her time. He would let Ava come to the knowledge herself. Patience. He would seduce her body and mind until her soul compelled her to accept him. It would be his most pleasurable hunt ever.

“What are you smiling about?” Ava teased him, snuggling into his chest. “You look like the cat who ate the cream.”

His laugh was low and satisfied. “I’m quite sure that I did. More than once.”

Malachi laughed again when she elbowed his side, then he pulled her close and said, “Sleep, Ava. Rest with me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this exhausted.”

“Sleep,” he whispered. “I will see you in your dreams.”

When he dreamed, it was of her. A shadow he chased through a dark wood. She eluded him for a time, but eventually a faint outline walked to him out of a fog. He could not see her face, but when her lips touched his, he knew her. And she was his.

He blinked awake. Ava was still sleeping next to him, boneless in her exhaustion. Malachi slipped out of the narrow bed, wishing he had someplace more private to take her. The newly awakened magic did not want to share its mate. And though his room in the scribe house was one of the most isolated, it still lacked the privacy he craved.