Page 69 of Xantera
Yes, I exhale.Are you going to forget me? If I end up like that other Chosen One?
Thatwill never happen.He pauses. Almost like he’s taking a slow, steady breath that matches the rise and fall of my breasts.Your voice is etched into my brain.
My voice,I echo, both with hope and a little disappointment thrumming through my words.
I stare at my body through the water, the outline of my curves fragmenting with each tiny wave. I can’t help but wish it could be etched into Lucan’s mind just as well. That he could see me in the flesh, that I could feel his hands on my skin, his real voice in my ear.
How… much does this work from your end exactly?
What do you mean?he asks, and I can tell his curiosity has perked up.
Well, I assume you’re better at the mind communication than me. For instance, can you see through my eyes?
It doesn’t really work like that. He hesitates.More like a hazy second-hand view of the pictures you form in your mind, and even then, I’mlucky if I get that deep. It takes concentration from me and openness from the other person.
Ah, I say, tracing the surface of the water with my fingertips,so you’ve become good at shutting your own mind off then? Because I never get any of your mental images.
I’ve been practicing for centuries,he laughs.When your obnoxious family and friends are constantly invading your space, you have to learn.
Do I invade your space?
No,Lucan scoffs.You’re the best part of my days.
I fold my lips into a smile and continue to swirl my palms along the top of the water directly above my stomach, wishing with every fiber of my being that Lucan could actually see me right now. Because I have a sinking suspicion that, in a way, hecansee me. That if he wanted, he could scrape away every thought I’m thinking and discover where they’re wandering. Maybe he already knows.
And could you… control me? If you wanted?
A beat of silence. A drip of water from the faucet.
Finally, his gruff voice fills my mind.If you let me.
My subconscious doesn’t even have time to goad him. I gasp when my hand moves to trace my collarbone, because I didn’t tell it to.
Earlier didn’t satisfy you enough?Lucan says, voice rough.
No!I want to scream as heat rips through my core with a dangerous intensity that I didn’t know was possible.
Is it me? Or him? I can’t wrap my mind around it. All I know is I want more.
I try to move my hand downward, but I’m only given an inch of leeway before I’m met with resistance and Lucan clicks his tongue.
What’s the rush, little nightmare?
I can only manage a whimper when his smirk is practically a living thing inside me.
How badly do you wantto touch yourself right now?
You know how badly.A helpless plea, I already know.
I do, but I want to drag it out, he counters.If I can’t touch you. If I can’t taste you. If I can’t use my own fingers and lips and tongue. If all I have is time with you like this, then I’ll make the most of it.
Now I’m wetting my own finger. Just placing it on the pad of my tongue, closing my lips around it, like it’s of my own volition. Which, I realize, it kind of is. Anything he’s commanding me to do, I could easily overpower. He can’t manipulate me into doing anything I don’t want to do.
It all lies in how freely I open myself to him. And I wantthis. Full trust with him in a place where I can’t trust anyone else. A slice of pleasure after all that physical and emotional pain I just had to endure.
Let’s go back to the beginning, baby,he says, removing my finger from my mouth and trailing it along the chain of the necklace.When you were teasing me.
I wasn’t meaning to…I trail off when my hand reaches my breast.
