Cursed by Fire: The Immortal Brothers Read online

But an instant later all such thoughts flew away. An instant later he realized the chemise was near to sheer and he could see the dark tips of her nipples through it. His mouth went dry and his healing body grew tense. He tried to will himself into relaxing because there was a measure of pain involved, but he could not be convinced.

  She was erotic and lovely even without trying, and he realized he wanted her. Wanted her in a way he had not wanted a woman for over two centuries.

  He saw her hesitate in her disrobing, her finger toying with the bow at the back waist of those skirts.

  “Do you mean I should …?” she hedged.

  “Does this chemise reach your knees?” he asked, somehow managing to sound unaffected. He had no desire to scare her away. Not when he was dying to see more of her. To feel her … even if it was just the feel of her weight and her warmth next to him in his bed.

  “It reaches my ankles.”

  “Then, yes, I mean you should take off all but the chemise.”

  Her face colored again, something he was realizing he found delightful about her. She was so innocent, so delicately bred. No, he thought, she is not the sort of woman who would do well in a battle camp. Not that he would ever even want her there, he thought with haste.

  Selinda swallowed hard before pulling the ties to her underskirt. Her heart was pounding so hard she was surprised he could not hear it. Or maybe he could but he just didn’t care about her nervousness and fear. Did he not even realize what she was risking by doing this? Everything was on the line at that moment. Everything.

  And yet all she could worry about was if he would find her ugly. She wasn’t even wearing one of her prettier shifts. It was plain with no lace. Plain and thin, she realized as the cold of the room hit the warm fabric, making her feel just how exposed she was. Foolish girl, she thought. She had known it was possible he would see her in her underclothing. Why had she not thought to wear something prettier?

  She felt his eyes on her and she dared to look at him. As mottled and burned as his face was, she could easily read the expression in his eyes. He craved the sight of her. He was waiting for more. And suddenly she felt as though she were standing fully naked in front of him. Her breasts grew heavy and felt obvious. Her belly grew taut with anticipation. Or was it fear? She didn’t know. She had nothing to compare this experience to.

  The moment her skirts hit the ground she hastened to the bed, crawled over him, and burrowed like a frantic little drivet beneath the cover on the bed. Although Dethan was quite certain she would not enjoy the idea of him equating her to a small, burrowing rodent, so he would adhere to thinking of her as a beautiful, wary juquil.

  “Now relax and sleep,” he said, even though both relaxation and sleep were far out of his own realm. “I will wake you before dawn so you can return to your rooms.”

  She couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. She was so certain that he would do his worst to her. She probably didn’t even remember the last time a male was kind to her. And, yes, he included her father in that. A man who would not listen to the fears of his daughter, who would not take her reports of abuse seriously, was very unkind indeed.

  “You said … that I should … that I would …”

  “Try me out?” he offered, chuckling when she gave him a shy nod. “Aye, and that you will. But not tonight. Now sleep. I will watch over you.”

  She snuggled down deeper under the covers, and he could see she was comforted by that idea. And as he watched her, slowly, surely, she finally drifted into sleep.

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  Selinda awoke to the gentle sensation of something stroking along the side of her face. It reminded her of what it felt like when Dethan touched her like that.

  Dethan!

  Selinda awoke suddenly and sat up like a shot, so that Dethan had to quickly dodge her to keep them from cracking their skulls together.

  “Easy, little juquil. No need to be so startled. It is only me.”

  And that was what had her so startled, Selinda thought worriedly. She came awake enough to run her eyes over him and she realized with no little shock that he was healed over again, only white scarring in some places to mark where he’d been burned the worst. She knew this because he was entirely bare chested and bare legged and bare … everything! Before, when he had been so severely wounded, it had not mattered to her that he was naked. Indeed he had been so badly burned it was almost as though he weren’t even a male. But he was very much a naked male now. The huge expanse of his chest, the thick strength of his thighs, the flexed musculature of his abdomen all told her very clearly that not only was he male, he was a powerful one. He had been very gentle with her so far, but there was no mistaking the potential for brute force should he so desire it.

  And then her eyes drifted to the narrowing of his hips and the sturdy hanging flesh of his penis. In fact, it was very sturdy. Very hard and sturdy.

  She cringed away from him, scuttling back toward the wall. But he was having none of that. He locked a hand around her wrist, clamped another on her hip, and drew her closer to him.

  “No,” he scolded her. “You need not be afraid of me. We’ve talked about this.”

  “B-but … I did not expect you to be so … so … healthy,” she finished lamely.

  Dethan followed her wide eyes to where they were fixated on his body. He found himself laughing before he could help himself.

  “Know you nothing of men?” he asked her. “No, of course you do not. But trust me when I tell you that even your own brothers awakened in this state, without any provocation. It is only nature that makes it so, all things natural and good.”

  “Good for you,” she said dryly.

  “And for you,” he promised her. “But not until you are ready. I am not going to force you, Selinda.”

  “S-so if I say I don’t want to make sex with you … you won’t push me?”

  “I did not say that,” he said, his low voice dropping an octave lower. His hand drifted up her arm and his fingers caressed the bareness of her shoulder where the shift had fallen off it. “I am going to do everything in my power to push you, to coax you, into letting me inside you.”

  His frankness made her gasp and she tried to pull away again, but again he held her where he wanted her.

  “This is for you,” he reminded her, “not for me. And while I get great benefit from it, this is for you to see if we are compatible as lovers. And I promise you if you do not find pleasure in my arms, I will let you out of our agreement. I will do away with Grannish and let you be free of us both.” At her wide eyes he continued. “But if you do find pleasure, then you will make me yours. Are we agreed on that much?”

  It seemed like a more than fair agreement, Selinda thought. In fact, she could pretend not to feel anything at all and she could potentially be rid of both men entirely! Oh, what would she do with such freedom, she wondered, her body going soft with the wistful idea. To be free of all the men who sought to control her would be the answer to all her prayers.

  But that was never to be. Not as long as her father was alive and in control of her fate. And as difficult as that was, she wouldn’t wish him gone for anything in the world. She had already lost too many of her family. She couldn’t bear losing any more.

  But in the short term, it would not be so hard to act as though she felt no pleasure. Honestly, she did not understand how the act, described to her by her mother shortly before her death, could in any way be considered pleasurable. Though her mother had assured her that it was … with the right person.

  The idea of Grannish doing that to get his children on her had horrified her no end. Had her mother lived, she would have put a stop to her father’s blind plans for her. But her mother had died two years earlier in childbirth.

  Oh, why couldn’t Selinda have been taken by the plague like her sisters? Then none of this would worry her. She would have gone to the fields of glory, chosen one of the eight heavens, and broken bread with Kitari, and all this would h
ave meant nothing … would never have happened.

  “I know what you are thinking,” he said, jerking her back into the present moment with anxiety. He couldn’t possibly know! “You are thinking you will not feel anything of great import,” he said, that touch on her face once more. “But I am here to prove otherwise, and I will.” His touch fell onto her lips, brushed there briefly, and continued down to her chin. Then, using his fingertips under her chin, he tipped her head back and made her look into his eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he remarked with something almost like awe in his tone. “And you were made for loving.”

  “H-how so?” she wanted to know, trying for all she was worth to break the spell his deep voice and soft words were weaving. She felt herself being drawn to him, and it frightened her how strong a sensation it was.

  “The beauty of your face is meant to please the eyes. The beauty of your body is meant to please another body,” he said simply.

  “Oh,” she whispered. The truth was she was not used to being called beautiful by anyone other than Hanit, and she dismissed Hanit’s praises as loyalty. There was something comforting in hearing it from the lips of another. Something compelling.

  “You do not believe me,” he said knowingly.

  “I believe you have an agenda,” she said, her voice more than a little bitter.

  “I do, but that does not change the degree of your beauty. Think you I would want this throne so badly if it meant having an ugly wife? There are other thrones, other heiresses out there in the world who could be much easier to obtain. Easier, yes … prettier … no. I do not think so.”

  “There are. Prettier and unflawed,” she said, with more bitterness in her words and the hard brush of her fingertips over the scar on her face. “My sister was much more beautiful than I ever could hope to be. She would have been an example of a potentially more beautiful heiress.”

  “Since I never met her, I cannot agree or disagree. But you forget I have been married for power twice before … Ask me how beautiful my wives were.”

  “Were they very?” she asked, unable to prevent herself from doing so. Her curiosity was too great.

  “Quite. I would not have married them otherwise. So you see, I will not marry an ugly woman; therefore, you must be stunning.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at his reverse logic. “I still think you have an agenda,” she said, only this time with a smile.

  “You already know that I do. But that agenda does not include lying to you. I can achieve my ends without any pretty talk. So any pretty talk you receive you can be assured is truthfully meant. But do not get too used to it,” he warned playfully. “I am a coarse man with no manners and very little prettiness to my talk. You may never hear me say such things again.”

  “Oh, but that would not do at all. If you wish to please me, you will have to talk prettily to me constantly.”

  Dethan laughed at her sly remark. “So that’s the way of it, then? Well, good thing that I find you beautiful.”

  She smiled at him, the expression lighting her features and making her so much more attractive. In fact, it made him realize how unhappy her expressions truly were throughout the day. But he would be unhappy in her situation as well.

  He found his gaze drawn to her smiling lips. She had colored them for him and the color still held, even after sleeping. It made them seem a darker, richer magenta color against the backdrop of her white teeth. Her breath smelled sweet, he thought. A scent he knew and yet could not place. Yes, she had endeavored to attract him to her tonight, and she had succeeded famously. The very idea that she had engineered herself to please him was something he found lighting a fire in his blood.

  He used his touch on her chin to tip her head a little farther back, and he fixated on those lush berry lips. She looked as though she would taste as delicious as she looked, and he was determined to test the theory.

  His mouth moved to only an inch away from hers, their breath mingling, his slow and deep, hers fast and short. He could see the anxiety crawling through her, so he did not drag it out any longer than need be. The longer he waited, the longer she had to make mountains of fear inside of herself.

  His mouth touched hers.

  He was infinitely gentle. Letting her adapt to the feel of his lips. At least he was at the start of it. He had not intended to overwhelm her, had had the very best of intentions, but it had been so long since he had known the taste of a woman.

  So very damn long.

  And the taste he’d had of her before, he found, was not even close to enough. Remembering how she had reacted so hotly to their first kiss had him dragging her even tighter into this one, his arms wrapping around her in fervent bands of need. She resisted him, her hands flattening against his chest and pushing against him for a very long moment. But then, after that moment, she softened, relaxed … welcomed.

  She was his first woman in a very long time, for almost ten times as long as she had been alive. He told himself that this was the reason why he felt so suddenly impatient.

  She was warm against him, so very warm. Without her outer clothes, she was soft and supple. He had felt her against him before, but the rigidity of her corset had kept him at a distance. He wondered then if it wasn’t so much a fashion statement as a method of men keeping their women all the more chaste. For who would want to be intimate with the feel of metal rods?

  But here and now she was lush and young, and it made him crave so many things all at once. He hardly knew what to do first. He was struggling with himself, trying to keep a rein on his arousal. She was fresh and innocent. He could feel it … smell it on her. She positively reeked of it. And somehow that made her even more desirable to him. He marveled at the craving. He had never wanted innocents before. He had found them trying. He preferred skill and experience far and above the idea of being the first one there.

  Oh, but there was something intriguing about the idea of no one having touched her before this. Of no one having kissed her. Yes. Intriguing and delightful and oh so delicious.

  That was nothing compared to the actual flavor of her, however. A flavor he dove more deeply for the next instant. With the touch of two fingers on her chin, Dethan coaxed Selinda’s mouth open.

  Nervousness clenched around her heart. They had kissed like this before, but they had not been closed away in a room … she had not been lying beneath him in a bed. He could do anything he wanted to. Anything at all, and there would be nothing she could do to gainsay him. He had it over her in sheer size and in more than obvious strength, not to mention that he, who had been penniless in the mud a mere day ago, had far and away more power over his fate than she did. And that was saying something, seeing as how he was cursed by the gods.

  She wanted to worry about that. Wanted to tell herself she should be afraid to throw her lot in with someone who had the gods’ swords at his throat. Life was difficult enough for her as the powerless female heir to a country … Would she really wish to incite the wrath of the gods as well?

  Yes.

  It was better to give herself to this man, like this, in the face of all those gods, than the alternative. At least this way it made it her choice. In this she would wholeheartedly defy that tyrant who held her in such a viselike grip.

  That didn’t change the fact, however, that she didn’t really know what to do next. She found herself cursing the chastity she had previously been so proud of. She knew other women of the court gave their favors freely, to one man and the next, but she had kept herself above that … above even the most pious mem. Selinda had remained perfectly chaste. She, the first lady of the court, had set a perfect example. A reputation she had used as a shield from the advances of others … including Grannish. Before he had shown his true colors he had tried to coax her into kissing him or letting him hug and pet her, but she had kindly rebuffed him, using her honor as her guard and chaperone.

  Now she feared there was nothing she could do if he decided one day to come after her in earnest. Luckily he though
t her so repulsive that the idea apparently wasn’t crossing his mind.

  Thanks be to Hella.

  Selinda drew in a soft breath right before Dethan’s tongue slipped inside her mouth. The sensation, the invasion, was still so strange that she pushed away from him, breaking their mouths apart. His response was to give her a reproaching expression, then he gently wrapped his hand around her head, his big palms engulfing her and making her feel so small as he pulled her mouth back against his and reintroduced the feel of his warm tongue in her mouth. It was a gentle invasion. A dip, just far enough to touch their tongues together, then he pulled his tongue back so only their lips clung together. He did it again. And again. Until she was moaning softly from the steady growth in the heat of the kiss. She could feel it, the energy of his leashed desires, just a little below the surface. It was like a beast in a powerful cage. But he was the strongest cage there was and he would not let the beast get to her, she thought.

  Not yet.

  She jerked away from him with a gasp.

  “Please!” she cried, the word jolting out of her purely on instinct. He seemed to know that was the case, for he smiled at her, the expression lightening the darkness of his features. She liked it when he smiled. She had come to understand that he had so much weight on his shoulders, so many things trying to press him down. She liked the idea that when she made him smile it was almost like pushing that darkness aside. Lifting the weight off him.

  “Please? Go on. Tell me what you please. Tell me what pleases you, little juquil.”

  “I … I wish … I-if it is all right … I should like this to stop. F-for now.”

  She was testing him, Dethan realized. She was testing him to see if he would grant her request or if he would grow angry with her for thwarting his attempts to be passionate with her.

  “Do you wish to stop?” he asked her, turning it back on her. “Or are you afraid to continue? There is a difference between the two.”

  “I-I do not understand,” she said, clearly casting about for what would both fulfill her wishes and keep him from becoming incensed. She was so used to volatility that it did not occur to her that it should be absent. “Do not be angry with me. I am just not used to such familiarity.”