“No, I’m his younger brother. We all bare our father’s stamp. Some better than others,” Jareth said the last to Rune, with a laugh. The corners of his eyes crinkling.
His attention returned to them as he wiggled a glass. “Drink?”
“No thank you,” Faye answered as she rubbed the side of her neck, glancing over the full room. “Why are there so many people here?”
“Rune is performing your rite. Sadi and Morbid will help him hold you over the Darkness. The rest of us are here to serve as a well. If Sadi needs to siphon more power, she’ll take it from us.”
“Don’t you think this is overkill?” Faye asked the back of Rune’s head.
He turned around meeting her gaze. “It is a precaution. There is a contraceptive brew in your room. Open our adjoining door when you are ready.” Rune strolled past them, inclining his head to Faye as he left his study.
Faye exchanged a look with her sister, her nerves freezing her in place. Sparrow smiled brightly, oblivious to the tension thrumming through Faye’s body, and nudged her toward the door.
Chapter forty-seven
Fayestoodbeforeherfull-length mirror, the pink and gray lace choker around her neck. She scrutinized her nude form, crimson silk flowing down either side of her. She should have asked Sparrow how to get the collar to work.
She let her mind drift, remembering how she sat with Rune on the settee. Running her fingers lightly over his index finger. Pausing to brush his shard. She’d looked up at his mouth wanting to feel them. Fantasizing about what it would be like to be desired by a man like him.
Wanting him to need her and pull her into his arms.
Faye jerked as a light constriction closed over her body. She was now dressed in gray lace with pink accents. She turned from side to side wondering if this was too much. The bra and thong hid nothing beneath the intricate lace pattern. A garter belt of the same material held up sheer gray thigh high stockings.
She closed her robe and tied it. If he didn’t like it, she could take the collar off. Faye flushed, imagining him untying her robe and gazing at her beneath it. Faye glanced at the door in the mirror’s reflection, and her heart pounded in her ears.
Ceremony, this is a ceremony, she chanted to herself as she moved to the door. She stared at the door handle. Her lips parted as she took hold of it, turning the knob. It clicked and Faye shyly pushed it before pulling her hand away.
The door opened into his room a few inches. She didn’t see movement through the sliver into Rune’s room.
She stepped back when the door opened. Rune stood in the doorway wrapped in a matching crimson silk robe. He stepped into her room, and she took another step back.
Veined misted shadows crept from beneath his eyes, mesmerizing her in place. He stepped closer and Faye’s breaths turned shallow. She lost herself in his pale blue gaze. The backs of his fingers smoothed under her jaw, tracing to her hair. He pulled a length of her black hair forward, letting it slip through his hold.
“Be easy. Your heart is racing,” he said, walking past her to the table. He adjusted his robe and took a seat, holding his hand out to her.
Faye hesitated before taking his hand. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing softly over the back of her hand. She was close enough to perceive his scent of sandalwood and amber. He pulled her hand down, guiding her to take a seat on his thigh. Faye glanced at his mouth, remembering the last time she was in his lap.
They would be doing much more than they’d done at the brothel.
He stroked her hair and picked up an untouched cup from the table and held it between them. She’d been so preoccupied with her choker, she forgot to drink the tea left out for her.
“Sorry,” she muttered taking the small glass.
Faye drank the contents as he caressed her back. It was warm, with a hint of bitterness. Like a tea she let steep too long. Faye leaned forward setting the glass at the edge of the table, freezing when Rune stopped to trace the strap running across her back.
Faye forced herself to straighten as his hand glided down to her waist, delicately hovering over the straps beneath the silk. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn this. He didn’t look happy as he followed her garter belt. The shadows intensified reaching lower.
She fingered the edge of his robe, gazing down at her tantalizing view. Faye wanted to drag her teeth over the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Her gaze lowered to his collar bone, ending at the hint of the hard plains of his chest beneath the red silk.
Faye knew this was what she wanted, but her confidence rapidly depleted as he gazed at her intently. “Do I touch you to start?”
Rune brushed her hair over her shoulder, slipping his fingers over the back of her neck. He leaned closer. His lips a moment from hers. “The door serves as invitation to your bed. However, I think it best if you lead.”
She would control their evening. The thought appealed to her as she imagined him worshiping at her altar, then bound with his wrists overhead while she ran her nails over his chest.
Faye mentally shook herself. Nothing would start if she didn’t touch him. She leaned in and kissed him. His lips parted and she deepened the kiss, her tongue stroking into his mouth. Taking from him.
His surrender set her blood aflame, coursing through her as she tangled her hands in his hair. Her nipples hardened into tight peaks when he pulled her closer, molding her against his chest. Heat pooled at her center when the proof of his desire ground against her thigh.