J. Ward - Lover Unbound

His body instantly hardened from the scent in the air, the heady mix of jasmine and sweet, smoky incense enticing him, sexing him up. As it was supposed to. Up ahead there was a white curtain hanging, and fulminating illumination bled through the fold, the flickering glow coming from what must be hundreds of candles.

He pulled the curtain aside. And recoiled, losing some of his erection.

The Chosen he was to mate with was stretched out on a marble platform with a bedding cushion on it, a curtain falling from the ceiling and pooling at her throat, obstructing her face from view. Her legs were spread and tied down with white satin ribbons, her arms the same. A gossamer-thin sheath covered her naked body.

The basis of the ritual was self-evident. She was the sacrificial vessel, an anonymous representative of the others. He was the holder of the wine, the one who would fill her body. And though it was absolutely unforgivable of him, for a split second all he could think of was taking her.

Mine , he thought. By law and custom and all that was manifest, she was his, as much as his daggers were, as much as the hair growing out of his head was. And he wanted to get inside of her. Wanted to come inside of her.

Except that wasn't going to happen. The decent part of him overrode his instincts, just plowed them down: She was utterly terrified, crying quietly, as if she were trying to hide the sound by biting her lip, shaking such that her limbs were horrid metronomes of fear.

"Be at ease," he said in a soft voice.

She jerked. Then the shaking came back worse than before.

All at once he got pissed off. It was appalling that this poor female was put up for his use like an animal, and though he was being used in a similar way, it was his free choice to put himself here: He had serious doubts whether that was true for her, given how she'd been restrained both times.

Phury reached up, grabbed the curtain that hid her face, and ripped it down-

Holy shit . The female's sobs weren't held in by her biting her lip; she was gagged and bound by the forehead to the bed. Tears streaked her blotchy, red face, and the muscles in her neck stood out in rigid relief-and she was screaming, though unable to make a sound, her eyes bulging with terror.

He went for what was in her mouth, loosening the tie, removing it. "Be of ease…"

She panted, seemingly incapable of speech, and going on the theory that actions spoke louder than words, he worked off the binding on her forehead and untangled it from her long blond hair.

When he freed her thin arms she covered her breasts and the juncture of her thighs, and on impulse he took the curtain he'd ripped down and covered her before taking off the ties at her feet. Then he stepped back from her, going all the way across the temple and leaning against the far wall. He figured she might feel safer that way.

Dropping his eyes to the floor, he saw only her: The Chosen was pale and blond, her eyes jade green. Her features were fine, the kind that made him think of porcelain dolls, and her scent very much like jasmine. God, she was too delicate to be tortured like this. Too worthy to endure a stranger's rutting.

Christ . What a mess.

Phury let the silence go on, hoping she'd get used to his presence while he figured out what to do next.

Sex was not going to be it, that was for sure.

Jane was not big on The Sound of Music , but she was totally Julie Andrews-ing it up as she lay in bed and watched V try to find his clothes. Man, being in love really did make you want to throw out your arms and spin in the sunshine with a big, sappy, happy grin on your face. Plus she had the short blond hair to pull it off. Although she was drawing the line at lederhosen.

There was just one little problem.

"Tell me you aren't going to hurt him," she said as V pulled his leathers up his thighs. "Tell me my boss is not going to end up with a pair of broken legs."

"Not at all." V drew on a black shirt that stretched tight over his pecs. "I'm just going to make sure that he's good and clean and that picture of my ticker is iced."

"You'll let me know how it goes?"

He looked at her from under his brows, an evil little smile on his face. "Don't trust me with lover boy?"

"Not as far as I can throw you."

"Smart woman." V came over and sat down on the edge of the bed, his diamond eyes still glowing from the sex. "When it comes to you, that surgeon needs to watch it."

She took his bare hand, knowing that he hated her getting anywhere near the gloved one. "Manny knows where he stands with me."

"Does he?"

"I told him. Right after the weekend. Even though I couldn't remember you, it just felt… wrong."

V leaned in and kissed her. "I'll come back after I leave him, okay? That way you can look into my eyes and know the guy's still breathing. And, listen, I want to get real here. I'd like to send Fritz over this coming afternoon with some supplies so I can wire this place up. Do you have an extra garage door opener?"

"Yeah, in the kitchen. Drawer under the phone."

"Good. I'm taking it." He ran a finger down her neck and circled his newest bite mark. "Every night when you get home I'm going to be here. Every early morning before I have to go back to the compound, I'm going to be here. Every night I'm off, I'm going to be here. We're going to steal the time when and where we can, and we're going to stay in touch on the phone when we're not together."

Just like any normal relationship, she thought, and the idea that there was a prosaic side to things was nice. It took the pair of them out of some great paranormal superstructure and laid them fiat on the ground of reality: They were two people who were committed and ready to work at a relationship. Which was about all you could ask of the person you were in love with.

"What's your full name," she murmured. "I just realized I know you only as V."

"Vishous."

Jane's hand squeezed his. "Excuse me?"

"Vishous. Yeah, I know it's odd for you-"

"Wait, wait, wait-how do you spell it?"

"V-i-s-h-o-u-s."

"Good… God."

"What?"

She cleared her throat. "Ah, a long, long time ago-a lifetime ago-I sat in my childhood bedroom with my sister. There was a Ouija board between us and we were asking it questions." She looked up at him. "You were my answer."

"To what question?"

"Who…Jesus, who I was going to marry."

V smiled nice and slow, the way a man did when he was feeling pretty damn self-satisfied. "You wanna marry me then?"

She laughed. "Yeah, sure. Let's just jack me into a white dress and do the altar thing-"

His expression lost the tease. "I'm serious."

"Oh… God."

"I don't suppose that's a yes?"

Jane pushed herself upright. "I… I never thought I'd get married."

He winced. "Yeah, okay, that wasn't exactly the reply I was going for-"

"No… I mean, I'm just surprised at how… easy it feels."

"Easy?"

"The idea of being your wife."

He started to smile, but then lost the expression. "We can do the ceremony in my tradition, but it won't be official."

"Because I'm not one of you?"

"Because the Scribe Virgin hates my ass, so there can't be any presentation to her. But we can do the rest of it." Now he grinned with an edge. "Especially the carving."

"Carving?"

"Your name. My back. I can't fucking wait."

Jane whistled under her breath. "Do I get to do it?"

He barked a laugh. "No!"

"Come on. I'm a surgeon, I'm good with knives."

"My brothers will do it-well, actually, I guess you could do a letter, too. Mmm, that gets me hard." He kissed her. "Man, you are so my kind of girl."

"Do I have to get cut?"

"Hell, no. It's done on the males so everyone knows who we belong to."