His Darkest Embrace Page 14

  As the sultry jungle air touched the heated flesh of her breasts, coaxing the nipples into an even harder pucker, Skye shuddered. They were so sensitive that she groaned softly. Her breasts felt heavy, full of need.

  Jagger inhaled deeply and he held her hands at her sides, effectively trapping her. His eyes were nearly black with desire as they fed from the exposed flesh that trembled beneath his gaze.

  Long moments passed but he wouldn’t release her. Skye began to move impatiently against him. “Let me go, I need to—”

  He moved quickly, his tongue darting out to attack the turgid nipple closest to him. He circled the hardness, moving his tongue with a deft control that left Skye shaking.

  “Oh God, that feels so good,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensations that were fingering their way out from her chest, to the soft ache between her legs. It was like a direct conduit, and only intensified when he closed his entire mouth over her nipple.

  Skye arched into him, wanting to grab hold of his head, but her hands were still trapped at her sides. He wouldn’t release her. It was like an exquisite torture.

  He began to suckle, hard, and each time he drew her deep into his mouth, it pulled at her desire in such a way that it was painful. Yet wholly pleasurable.

  “Please,” she whimpered, “I need to touch you.”

  Jagger laughed wickedly and moved to her other breast, trapping the aching nipple between his teeth, scraping the sensitive peak provocatively. Skye squealed and ground herself against him, loving the feel of his hardness. She began to writhe in earnest as small sounds of pleasure and desire fell from her lips.

  Jagger held her firm still, his open mouth and tongue devouring the rosy hardness like it was candy. He licked, nipped, and suckled, and then blew on each breast. The sensation was unlike anything Skye had felt before, and her head fell back as she gave herself up to its exquisite pleasure.

  She’d had lovers in the past. Yet none had affected her on such a level as did Jagger. He’d barely begun to scratch the surface and she was putty in his hands.

  “Jagger, release my hands.” Her words were throaty but she managed to get them out, and when he suddenly acquiesced, Skye immediately grabbed his head and brought his mouth back to her own.

  “You taste like sin,” she whispered against his mouth.

  A smile spread across her own as she pulled away and slowly stood. The night’s kiss against her heated skin spread a rash of goose bumps across her flesh, and her fingers fell to the hard nipples at her breasts.

  God, she loved the way his eyes reacted when she touched herself. She massaged the aching buds and laughed softly at the exasperated curse that flew from his lips.

  “You’re fucking killing me.”

  Skye tore her gaze away from his and let her eyes wander down the hard planes of his chest. Savagely, she reached for the shirt that covered what she so wanted to see and practically ripped it from his frame, tossing it aside, where it landed on top of hers.

  Her mouth immediately fell to his neck and she nipped and suckled the base, licking slowly, seductively, at the point where his pulse banged out a rhythm of desire. Her nipples scraped gently against the hair on his chest and she sucked in her breath as a new wave of sensation poured over her flesh.

  Jagger’s hands wove a trail of fire up and down her bare back while her mouth slowly slid toward his chest, until her tongue flicked a wet kiss against each of his nipples. They, too, hardened, and she rose slightly until her breasts were crushed against his.

  Something then slid across her subconscious. A whisper of darkness.

  Skye stilled. Her heart beat fast and heavy in her chest as a spike of adrenaline rushed through her veins.

  “Don’t stop now,” Jagger uttered, his voice hoarse, edgy with need.

  “I just, I …” Skye struggled to clear the fog of desire from her brain. Something was weird. Off.

  It tempered the raw need that she felt, but only minutely, and when Jagger once more claimed her nipple, deep in his mouth, she threw her head back.

  His hands were inside the waist band of her shorts and he leaned back, pulling the denim from her limbs and leaving her bare to his roving eyes. They were hooded, sexy in their regard of her nakedness.

  Skye smiled at Jagger and slowly slid her hands down her belly. She spread her legs open and teased the sweet spot that lay hidden within the folds of her sex with quick, gentle movements.

  The sweat that covered Jagger’s skin in a fine sheen quickly beaded and the look on his face was so raw and intense that she stopped her actions.

  His eyes began to glow and the tattoos that adorned the hard lines of his abs and left bicep seemed to move. She was transfixed to such an extent that at first she didn’t note the change in the atmosphere.

  “Don’t stop now, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, though his voice fell from his lips in layers, and her heart jumped. Something wasn’t right.

  Slowly, as if from far away, she felt the beginnings of panic intruding. Skye’s head felt fuzzy and she shook herself, trying to right her body.

  Her skin was no longer heated but cold, and a feeling of dread settled deep in her gut. The air around them began to fog as the warmth from the earth reacted to the suddenly cold temperature.

  Her desire fled, the need forgotten. Something was desperately wrong.

  Jagger seemed to be oblivious to all of this, and when he reached for her, his eyes focused solely on the exposed apex of her legs, she kicked hard and rolled to the side.

  “What the fuck?” The words, ripped from his throat were furious. “I can’t, I …”

  Jagger stood over her, chest heaving, erection strained against his pants, with his hands clenched tightly at his sides. His face had gone white and she could sense the fury that lay just under the skin.

  Skye scrambled away, more confused than ever, looking around wildly.

  “Something was"—she swallowed, trying to force the words out—"something was here.”

  Jagger’s eyes narrowed and he scented the air. When he turned back to her, his face was tight with anger. “Lady, the only thing that I see is a cock tease.”

  Skye shook her head, but no words came forth. She had no clue what had just happened and couldn’t articulate it. She dropped her gaze to the ground, shoulders sunken as she tried to cover her nakedness.

  She suddenly felt exposed, cheap.

  “You don’t understand,” she whispered.

  Jagger suddenly bent low, his breath striking the skin of her cheek. “No I don’t. I don’t understand any of this. I’m not one of your flyboy eagles, and I don’t like games.”

  She closed her eyes and turned her head away.

  Jagger pulled away. “We’re done. Get dressed.”

  Skye kept a wary eye on him as she gingerly reached for her clothes. In less than thirty seconds she was dressed, unsure of what to do next.

  “Come here,” Jagger commanded, yet this time there was no desire, warmth. In fact there was pretty much nothing at all.

  She hesitated, but the look that he threw at her quenched any desire to ignore his request. The man was pissed, and now that several moments had passed, Skye was starting to think that he had every right to be.

  Her eyes swept the area once more and nothing seemed out of place. The jungle was just as it had been. Silent, dark.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  She held her head high and walked over to him, surprised when his arms went around her. But this was no gentle touch. He had a rope tied around her waist before she even knew what was happening.

  It was long and he motioned toward the tree where her bag lay. “You bed down there. If you so much as move an inch I’ll be all over you.” His eyes narrowed cruelly. “And trust me, it won’t be fucking I’m after.”

  Skye stared down at the intricately knotted rope that was tight and secure and then she looked back at Jagger.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. This
is not necessary,” she ground out from between clenched teeth as her own anger rose up from deep inside to answer his.

  Jagger just shook his head, ignored her, and pulled his T-shirt back down over his body. He wrapped the other end of the rope securely around his hand, crossed to where the two of them had lain together and flopped down.

  Skye stared at him for several long moments, trying to control the anger that left her limbs shaking.

  Un-fucking-believable!

  She began to walk toward her bag, but realized the rope didn’t allow enough distance to do that. For a few seconds, she stood there, uncertain, pissed, tired as all hell.

  Skye felt her strength begin to fade, like air leaking from a balloon, and she knew she needed to rest. She glanced over at Jagger and made a face. He looked like he was resting comfortably.

  As she slid her body up against what was left of a stone wall, she made a vow to make the bastard pay for his arrogance. Her fingers fell to the rope that was tied a little too tightly around her waist. It was no use. The knot was intricate and much too tight.

  Skye rested her head against the hard surface and closed her eyes. She began to shiver once more and wrapped her arms around her body, looking for what little comfort that she could. Her blanket was over by Jagger, but damned if she was going anywhere near him.

  It was going to be a long and miserable night. She sighed tiredly and tried to sleep.

  She was almost there, too, when the voice that she feared above all others, more than Cormac or any of the DaCosta scum, slid through her mind.

  Azaiel’s seductive whisper was like a dark promise. Skye’s eyes flew open, wide with fear. She wanted nothing more than to flee, to run as far and as fast as she could. To reach for the golden sun when it rose and to shift so that she could fly away from all of this madness.

  “You are so close, my little bird, I can almost taste you.”

  The words spoken in her mind seemed as if underwater. She could understand them but they faded in and out, muffled. Skye swallowed thickly, trying her best to dampen the fear that clogged her throat. “I will never let you touch me,” she whispered hoarsely.

  There was no response, and for a brief moment Skye wondered if in fact she was going crazy. If the hallucinations she’d had since a young child were just slivers of a madness that was finally manifesting.

  Dully, she once more rested her head and closed her eyes. It didn’t matter. If he was real, she’d meet Azaiel once the portal was sealed.

  In hell.

  Chapter 13

  Jagger was awake well before dawn. He’d managed a few hours of shut-eye, which was a fucking miracle considering he’d had a raging hard-on that wouldn’t go away.

  His eyes swept across to the tree where Skye slumbered still. A million curses slid through his brain but he remained silent. There was no use getting all worked up. He needed to conserve his energy. He’d get his hands on the goddamned portal and make her beg for it.

  It was time someone taught Skye Knightly a lesson.

  A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he relaxed. He was more than up for the job. He shifted his body, hissing softly as the bulge between his legs throbbed with a need long denied.

  Christ, was he up for it.

  Once he was somewhat comfortable, he opened his mind up and listened. The nocturnal sounds of the jungle comprised a melody he would never tire of. It fed his soul in a way that was indescribable. It calmed him.

  Again, his eyes wandered over Skye’s still form. Her chest rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep. The woman was a mystery. One that, he was pissed to admit, intrigued the hell out of him.

  He didn’t trust her, didn’t know anything about her other than the fact that, apparently, they were natural-born enemies.

  He got to his feet and crossed over to where she lay. Hopefully, when he rendezvoused with Cracker and the boys, they’d have more information on her family, the Knightlys. He knew her father was dead and there was a missing brother, Finn, but other than that he was clueless. The whole eagle knight thing was a mystery to him and he didn’t like any loose ends when running a mission.

  In a fluid movement Jagger doffed his clothes and quickly tied the loose end of the rope up to one of the protruding branches of the downed tree to her right. He left it in an intricate knot, knowing it would be a cold day in hell before she was able to undo it.

  He cracked the bones in his neck and rolled his shoulders as the mist began to crawl up over his long limbs. Within seconds his bones popped, limbs shortened, torso elongated, and a thick, shiny black pelt was left in place of his flesh. The jaguar barked a soft call, its long tail swishing back and forth slowly as its senses drifted on the languid breeze.

  After a few moments the animal jumped over the long, tanned feminine legs at its feet and disappeared into the underbelly of the jungle.

  The powerful cat roamed a great distance, hunting, tracking, but there was no enemy to be found. Neither animal nor human nor otherworld. And while this was a good thing, Jagger was on edge. He sensed something off, a slight kink in the ebb and flow of the vibrations that ran along Mother Earth.

  Was it otherworld? He was frustrated because, truthfully, he had no clue, and other than a vague feeling, there was no evidence to be found.

  His thoughts turned to Skye and her weird behavior the night before. Was there some merit to her actions? Had she sensed something he’d not been able to? Or was she just one hell of an actress?

  The large cat scoured as much area as he could, seeking out any enemy that he might have missed. When the first fingers of sunlight began to tint the sky, jagged shards of gold bleeding through the early gloom, he turned and made his way back to where he’d left Skye.

  Jagger knew they still had a good day’s hike before they would get anywhere near the jaguar reserve. And that was at the relentless pace only someone with the strength of the jaguar or eagle could attain.

  He shook off the eerie quiet of the jungle and took off running. There was no time to waste.

  He approached the ruins where they’d taken shelter the night before and slowed as he came abreast of them. Skye’s subtle, fragrant scent hung in the air like a seductive invitation. He began to pant, his nostrils quivering, and his tail twitched aggressively, snaking back and forth.

  Jagger growled from deep in his chest as he glided over the soft earth. He rounded the edge of the broken-down stone wall, its sad gray countenance mostly covered by the myriad of greenery that made up the jungle floor.

  He immediately caught wind of the scent of blood and swung his great head back and forth, panic nipping at him when he saw that Skye was not where he’d left her. The rope lay in tatters, covered in the unmistakable scent of her blood.

  Jagger’s vision narrowed as the panic he felt intensified to an overwhelming sense of fear. He had left her there, tied up and defenseless. What the hell had he been thinking?

  The mist immediately crawled over the powerful body of the cat and seconds later a tall human form emerged and ran toward the edge of the ruins.

  Jagger knelt down, his fingers touching the earth at his feet.

  The ground was messed up, but as far as he could see there was only one set of footprints. He scented the air, but other than Skye’s fragrance there was nothing to be found. He quickly donned his clothes, pulled on his boots, and followed the trail back into the jungle. It led in the opposite direction from where he’d been.

  He raced through the thick underbrush, his mind and body focused on Skye. It wasn’t hard: she’d made no effort to cover her tracks and the scent of blood and fear lay heavy in the air. He found her less than a quarter of a mile away, at the edge of a small waterfall that fell from a sheer rock face.

  She turned to him and that was all it took. He was at her side in seconds, a deep scorching shame hitting him hard as he looked down at her.

  Her long hair lay in a wild mess, the thick waves untamed in the humid, wet air. Her tank top, drenched from the
mist that hung in the air, was shredded violently and barely covered her breasts. The ragged edges were ugly, like gaping wounds. Large dark stains marred the white cotton and he could see that it was blood.

  His gaze dropped to the chafed and torn flesh at her waist, and the shame he felt intensified.

  What had he done to her?

  “I thought you’d left me,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “Like everyone else.”

  Skye raised her eyes and met his, and the pain and misery that was reflected in their depths touched something inside of him. He reached for her, ignoring the flinch as she looked away.

  “He came back and you were gone.” She shook her head agitatedly. “I panicked.”

  “Who came back?” he asked, his voice rough and urgent as his eyes skimmed the area around them. His adrenaline spiked and he hissed loudly as he turned back to her.

  “Azaiel.”

  Her voice trembled and something inside his chest constricted as he followed the progress of a single solitary tear. It wove its way down her cheek and fell to the ground. One perfect drop of sorrow that nearly killed him.

  “I didn’t expect it. Not so soon. I thought he’d gone away.” She held out her hands. “It was different. He was there, outside of my head. I could feel him like before, only stronger, and I panicked.”

  Jagger saw that her fingers were still rigid with the long, deadly talons of an eagle.

  “It was daybreak and I could feel my strength returning. My only thought was to get away, so I clawed at the rope, but it was so tight.” She began to cry and Jagger truly felt like the biggest loser on planet Earth and beyond. “I could feel his hands on me and I …”

  An ache clutched at him hard and he dropped to his knees, drawing her into the warmth of his embrace.

  “There’s no one here now, Skye. You’re safe,” he murmured against the softness of her hair.

  None of this made sense. A fucking dream demon manifesting itself? Jagger shook his head.

  “I just wanted to get away,” she whispered, as if she’d not heard a word he’d said. “He kept laughing in my head and …”