“Stay.” I took off my nightshirt. I stood still letting him look at me. His eyes traveled over my body creating a wave of heat to follow. His expression melted my insecurity away, and I relaxed.
“Goldie…”
“Maybe you could help me with the rest?”
A low growl came from him as he closed the distance between us. He held me to him with one hand on my bottom as the other slid to cup my breast. His lips moved down my neck, over my shoulder, before bending to take my nipple in his mouth.
“Oh!” I moaned, pulling away so I could run my fingers over his chest to his abs. When I reached the waistband of his boxers, he hissed, and I looked up at him.
“Should I stop?”
“No.”
The huskiness of his voice gave me the final boost of confidence I needed. Sliding my hands under the elastic of his boxer shorts I lowered them to his hips. I slowly kissed my way down his body as I continued removing his boxers. When I was on my knees in front of him, I smiled up at him.
“Goldie, you will be the death of me.” He lifted me into his arms and placed me in the shower before joining me under the warm spray of the shower.
He reached for the bar of soap. His hands, silky from the lather, began touching me and I could no longer think.
He pulled me to him so the lengths of our bodies met as he washed my back. I moaned as the coarseness of his chest hair rubbed over my breasts. Enjoying the sensation, I shifted so I could feel it again.
He moved us under the spray to rinse off the lather and reached around me to turn off the water. Taking me in his arms he carried me to the bed.
As he slid in beside me our lips met and ours hands began to explore once again. I dug my nails into his shoulders as his touch overwhelmed me.
He shifted to rest in between my legs, guiding them around his waist. When his lips found my breast, I arched into him and moved my hands down his back pressing his hips to mine.
“Goldie, are you sure?”
“Yes.”
As he slid into me, I tensed at the pinch of pain. It passed quickly and turned into a pleasure I had only read about until now. Though not one book came even close to describing how good it felt.
His movements were slow, almost tentative. “Does it hurt?”
“No. It’s amazing.” I lifted my hips, urging him to continue.
Wave after wave of pleasure washed over me. I slid my hands down his back to his bottom and back up over his shoulder to cup his face. Instinctively, I began moving with him. We soon fell into a rhythm that had the world exploding, leaving me with a feeling of satiety I’d never thought possible.
“How do you feel?”
“Wonderful.” I ran my fingers over his back.
He shifted to lie beside me, pulling me into his arms. I’d never been happier or more content. I let my eyes drift close and dozed off while wrapped in Ian’s arms.
Chapter Eleven
“Ah, so you’ve decided to rouse yourself,” said an unfamiliar voice.
“What? Who the hell are you? And where is Ian?”
I sat up and focused on the man sitting in the chair beside my bed. I’d never seen him before, yet there was something familiar about him. His head bowed as he examined his fingernails as though I was boring him to tears. As I continued to examine him, I noticed he bore a strong resemblance to Ian. Though where Ian was dark, he was light. Ian was more Mediterranean where this man was more Nordic.
“Ian will soon return. He tasked me with watching over you in his absence.”
“Tasked? One, I don’t need watching over. And two, you still haven’t told me who you are.”
“I am Rufus.”
“That tells me nothing.” He annoyed me. I wake up to a strange man in my room and no one there to explain who the hell he is. Not cool.
“Actually, it tells you my name.”
“Oh, for the love of fairies! Why are you here?” I sat up to swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “And do not tell me you are here to watch over me.”
“I am here at Ian’s request.”
“You are infuriating.”
“Thank you.”
I lowered my feet to the floor and moved to stand in front of him. Before I could speak again, Ian strode in with a suitcase.
“Goldie, you should be in bed.” He placed the suitcase on the floor and moved to stand beside me.
“Ian, who is this man? Why did you leave me alone with him?”
“I only went down the hall to get my things. I did not want to leave you alone. Rufus was close by, so I asked him to stay with you in case you woke feeling ill.”
“I’d have preferred being alone.”
“Ah, sugar, don’t be like that.”
“Do not call me ‘sugar’.”
“Rufus, I told you to be polite.”
“I was, brother.”
I scoffed, “You were ambiguous and irritating.”
“Nevertheless, I was polite.”
He kind of had a point.
“Wait… Did he just call you ‘brother’?” Normally I wouldn’t think much of it, but the similarities between them had me wondering… “Are you related?”
“Rufus.”
“Why bother, it appears you are ashamed of me.”
The words he spoke were seemingly serious, but his tone was light and sarcastic. Still, Ian looked abashed and shook his head.
“I am not ashamed of you. I simply do not think it wise to share our relation with the others just yet.”
“I assumed this lovely being would have already known as she seems to be important to you. I apologize for disclosing information before you were ready.”
“She is important to me. I have not had the time to tell her about you…
“So, he is your brother?”
Ian’s parents had died in the Great Fey War. He ended up in, and later escaped from, a clan run by a malevolent banshee. Once free, he had started his own. He’d never mentioned any siblings or other family members.
“Yes, he is.”
“So, you just didn’t have time to tell me you have family?”
Rufus and I were looking at Ian like he had two heads. How did he not have time to mention a brother to me?
“I do not share my personal life with many. You and I have only recently become closer.”
“Closer? I’d like to think sleeping together is more than that.”
“Yes, well that only just happened.”
I glared at him.
He cleared his throat. “I will not explain myself. I am telling you now: Qadira Morrigana ó Cuinn, meet my brother, Rufus MacBeaghne.”
Rufus bowed before me. “Pleased to meet you, m’lady.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. From what I’d seen so far, Rufus differed greatly from Ian. Ian was always so serious, and Rufus seemed playful and flippant.
“Please call me Kadi.”
“Kadi,” he said as if the word tasted bitter. “Qadira is such a lovely name, why have you chosen Kadi?”
Ah, so there was at least one similarity between the brothers.
“I do not understand it either. I have asked her the same thing many times over the years,” Ian remarked.
“Great, there are two of you. I am too young and live in a time where I feel the name Qadira draws attention to me. I am in a profession and of a certain bloodline that makes attention bad for me; therefore, I have simplified my name to Kadi Quinn to blend in a little better. There, I have explained it, happy?”