A Hard Way to Heaven

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Chapter 21

Syn stood outside the master bath, eavesdropping on Akir’s phone call. She didn’t like what she was hearing. She heard Akir cut the connection, and start up the shower. Heard a few choice Gaelic curse words, and knew that she might have to be the one that took control. She undressed, tossing the garments on the bed, and stepped into the bathroom. He was in the shower, leaning against the wall with his head down. She crossed the room as steam coiled up along the lines of his strong body.

Akir took measured breaths, trying to still his erratic thoughts. He cursed his elder cousin. He cursed the Elders and their rules. This is what you got when you think you can run the world from behind a desk in some secluded high-rise half-way around the world.

Assholes.

His eyes closed and cursed again, envisioning Syn’s body. Last night, he had felt her curves pressed against his body, under the light covering of the blankets, and goose down. He had risen up on an elbow, and watched her sleep. How much he wanted to look into her indigo eyes, capture the plum of her lips, and rest in the crook of her neck. That simple thought quickened his heart, his breathing. His body tightened as his thoughts intensified, realizing just how parched he was for the intimacy of a woman. He reached for the taps, cranking up the hot water as his hand curled around his thickened shaft. Too long he had been schooled to set his emotions aside, and focus in on his one task, his job. Too many years of training to temper his emotions, and push them back into the recess of his mind. To many years to learn how to control his body. He jerked off, trying to find relief from his frustrations.

The family in London didn't understand that even with all his training, he still had a heart, a soul. They continually tried to crush his natural desires, and their methods failed. He had learned to not display emotions, to control them, to bundle and compartmentalize by stuffing his shit back into some deep, dark closet using the mechanics, the functions of sex to ease the frustration. Year after year though, it was becoming harder to play by those rules as he saw his elder brothers, and cousins marry, and have families while it was forbidden to him. Even if their lives had been cut short, they still had those pure moments, and the love of someone they truly cared about. His heart could only be cleaved so many times. He wondered if a day was coming where he totally lost it, lost control and exploded.

Syn opened the glass doors to the shower, and quietly stepped inside, padding across the tile floor towards Akir, silently keening at the sight of the muscular plains of his body. She swallowed captivated by the way the steam played about his long legs and curled up the length of his body. She froze, stunned by the tattoo gracing the right side of his body. Her mouth went dry as she inched closer, focusing on his ink. It coiled around his powerful thigh, kissed his hip, tickled his one ass cheek, crawled up his back, fanned out across his shoulder, snaked down his tight bicep, and if he turned, looked at her properly would no doubt mark his shoulder, his pec. As she got closer, her eyes lifted upward, and her breath caught audibly. The art snaked up the side of his neck and disappeared into his hair. She had seen a whisper of it kissing his temple, his right eye and cheek bone.

Damn!

She retracted her finger as he whirled around, gasping his manhood firmly in his hand. He stroked his flesh, and a warning snarl rumbled up from deep in his gut. Her eyes flashed to his face, and her breath caught for the diamond stare. The combination of his unique green eyes, and his raven hair that fell in chiseled locks about his face, reminded her of the wolf in her dreams.

Slowly, she inched closer as his hand fell from his cock. His breath quickened as her fingers caressed his hip, brushed the scar that marked his right thigh from the bullet that had punched through his muscles. She had read the operational report on his father's and brother's deaths, knew the injuries he had sustained. Her other hand reached out, and touched the matching scar on his other thigh, leaning closer, and laying a kiss over his heart. Her hands caressed upward, seeing another scar, and coaxed him to turn as her finger traced the line around his back. He was breathing hard now, the rumble in his throat constant. She swallowed, and reached up to the scar from the exit wound that graced his one shoulder. Akir would have a great deal of pain as an old man, and that was a sobering thought, bringing tears to her eyes. If he survived into old age.

Survival was one day at a time.

Syn traced another scar on his muscular bicep, turning him back to face her. She bit back the tears, and the anger at how much he had suffered. Her hand skimmed up his chest to the bullet scar at his shoulder, tracing the line of his tat along his neck and under his wet hair. She blinked now seeing the scar left from the bullet that furrowed through his scalp at his hairline. That single shot could have killed him. She lifted a shaky hand and reached out, tentative tracing a scar over his rib cage with her nail, letting her fingers slide along his flesh until she held him.

Akir moaned at the unexpected touch, and gripped her shoulder, his head falling back. He told himself that this was just mechanics, just like breathing, just like eating, filling his gut with food and drink to keep living. Syn’s hand expertly stroked his flesh, pushing him to the edge. He needed to expend the energy and clear these thoughts before he mucked things up, and jeopardized their lives. He had to make a choice, now or never. He cursed the fates, and jumped. His fingers buried in her wet hair, dragged her against his body, crushing his lips against hers.

He had denied himself the touch of a woman for too long. He was running on empty, lost in the chaos more and more. He needed to find focus, knowing the fight was coming. His tongue plunged into her mouth on her gasp, his arm wrapping around her waist, melding her body to his. He tore his lips from hers, breathing hard. Akir brushed back her hair as her chin tilted, and her eyes locked with his. Those beautiful indigo eyes hid something, some deep seated ache, some emptiness, he wanted to fill. Akir knew that draining emptiness. He cursed the rules and cursed his ancestors for creating such conflict, and denying his basic needs for the sake of the clan. He snarled low in his throat, and kissed her hungrily, praying for patience to keep control.

They were both panting as he broke away, his training warring with his heart, forcing distance between them. They were both breathing hard. Damn he was nervous. He didn't think he could be gentle, not this first time. "If we do this there is no turning back. I dinna think I can just fuck you and walk away."

That one word set a fire under her skin. Syn swallowed, her blood pounding in her veins, her skin too tight. She croaked out, "I don't think I want you too...Would hurt too mu..." The words died in her throat as he enfolded her in his arms, and kissed her. Time stood still, and she fell hard into the emotion whirlpool. She groaned, tearing her lips away, wanting to change the shower. She reached for the control panel, panting, trying to focus on the keypad. She hit a combination, and the water fell like rain from the ceiling. Akir was at her back, drawing her back against the hard plains of his body. She reached behind her, reached for him.

Akir reached down, around her hips and gripped her apex drawing her up against his body as he kissed her hair, pleasuring each other. Their bodies rocked against each other, their panting echoing about them. The feel of that building tension, the retreat, and edging closer to climax. God, the friction, the feel of her hand upon his flesh, the sounds coming from her throat...growled, needing inside her slick heat.

He prized her hand from his cock and entwined their fingers. He did the same with her other hand and pinned her against the wall, wanting to join their bodies. His knee insinuated between her legs, and pressed closer, his erection sliding between her legs. Her sex caressed the head of his shaft as he probed for her core. He growled against her lips, as his hand guided his flesh into her heat, and leverage up into her body on a deep groan. He held still, allowing her to become accustomed to his presence. His jaw clenched, trying to retain some control. It was a losing battle. "Damn!" He grounded hard against her hips, relishing the building tension, the intense tease of her inner muscles fisting about his flesh.

Syn moaned as Akir moved, thrusting up into her body in deep, hard strokes. She could do nothing but let him have his way. She could hardly breathe, hardly think straight. She whimpered, unable to do anything more than enjoy the ride. Her fingers dug into his hair, and held him still, seeking his lips greedily. She tore her lips from his on a moan as her release rushed at her, fighting for breath, “NO…no..not yet, please.”

Akir stilled, enjoying a teasing kiss, his hands caressing the lines of Syn’s body. He chuckled against her hair, driving into her slowly, promising more. She would take this, take all that he could give right here, right now and anything he was willing to give in the coming days. He knew the success rate of relationships under such circumstances was less than zero, but didn’t care. Either way they were in for one helluva ride.

Akir snarled, frustrated, wanting deeper. Their bodies slid to the floor, onto their knees and he moved behind her, guided himself back into her body. His eyes devoured the curve of her back, his palm caressing up the length to bury into her hair, pressing her head down so he could lay kisses along the length of her spine, rubbing his whiskered cheek against her delicate flesh. He wanted to brand her, leave his mark upon her body, her soul so she would never forget just who had loved her so much. His hand went to her shoulder, holding her there as he drove them to the edge.

That one act, feeling his lips, his cheek, the heat of his breath on her back was just too much. She wanted to shift, wanted to be beneath him, look up into his eyes...those unique green eyes. "Akir..."

Akir smiled and quickened his pace, gripping her hips, tugging and pulling her onto his flesh. The tension was building, unbearably. He fell back onto his haunches, bringing her with him. He buried his face into her hair as they moved together. His fingers slipped between her legs and found her clit. He pressed against that sensitive nib of flesh and Syn broke, screamed, falling forward in her release. He let her go, keeping her on his thighs and worked for his own climax. His eyes fell on her lower back, and had the crazy idea to mark her, tattoo her with his own unique brand for all the world to see. His stomach tightened, his breath caught as he closed in on his orgasm. He pushed her hips, knowing they had to be careful. He withdrew and exploded over Syn's back, his hand going to his cock, and stroking every last drop from his body. He cursed, enjoying the look of his seed bathing her back, and wishing it was in her womb. Wishing a piece of himself would take, wanting a child.

His hips rolled against hers as their breathing settled. Her body squirmed, a frustrated snarl fell from her lips, and that made him grin. She was already ready for more. At this point, he would have left the woman, stolen away, and departed. But that was then, this was now. He wanted more. He wanted Syn. He moved closer, and his hand slipped over the curve of her ass, "Your turn." He gripped her about the shoulders as his fingers touched her sex. She moaned as three of his fingers invaded her heat, his thumb flicking across her hard clit. Her mouth went dry, panting hard as he finger-fucked her. She pressed hard back, forward riding his hand as her release rushed at her. And then it just died, withered way in a single thought. She tore away from him denying him, her, "Dammit."

She was breathing hard as he was.

"Let me help you finish."

She snapped, looking over her shoulder, "I want you inside of me." She stood, and rinsed under the water, stepped from the shower, and grabbed a towel, “Living room, now.”

His eyebrow shot up, chuckling, rather liking this side of her, “Are ye commanding me woman?”

“Aye…come on. Grab several pillows and the goose down from the bed.” He grinned at her perfect brogue, and followed, quickly drying off. He stayed back, watched her use the towel on her own body, and cast it aside. He had plans for that ass of hers. He turned the corner into the living room and saw her casting a sheepskin throw before the fire. She went to a chest on the opposite wall, and retrieved another. He tossed the pillows, the goose down comforter down upon the fur bed, and went to build up the fire.

He stood and turned, and the sight of Syn on the furs, naked had his body harden painfully.

Syn sighed, Akir's too broad chest filed her frame of vision. Her eyes dropped swiftly down his body, to his thick erection. She rolled up to her knees, wetting her lips, "I want to take care of you, take care of that. I want to taste you in my mouth, feel you pulse in my hand against my lips."

Those purple eyes drew him across the space, carefully, like some caged beast and dammit, he was. His body was too tight, too jacked up on desire of wanting her. He had to be cautious, take his time. He inched closer, the warmth of her breath bathed him, and his hips jerked, his cock jutted out even higher, beckoning her mouth. The pleasurable agony when she took him had his breath hitched hard. Did he get any air into his lungs? His fingers threaded through her hair, and cradled her head as he fought to breathe correctly. His eyes narrowed, mesmerized at the beauty of her actions, the feel of her hot, silky mouth around his length. The sight of her wet hair falling about her shoulders. His fingers played with it. The slight slap of it against his thighs had him wonder about giving her a whip to apply against his skin.

Jesus, that thought tingled down his spine and had him thrusting forward. And she took him, her hand and mouth working expertly to get him off. His heart felt like it was going to rupture, pounding fiercely behind his ribs. His brain was starved for oxygen and thought he would pass out as her mouth sucked him hard. He felt that familiar edge, inching closer to falling over. His groan erupted from deep in his chest as his balls tightened, his hips lifted and the explosion erupted along his length. His fingers fisted in her hair, his eyes dropping, watching her swallow his cum. He caressed her hair as her eyes lifted to his. Damn she was beautiful and his trust notched higher.

He leaned down resting his head against her forehead, keeping her there. Élan was still out there, and there was always that possibility these were going to be their last weeks alive. If that was so, he was going to live, fucking fly, and show her just how much he craved this, craved her even more. Consequences could find their own cliff and jump. He was. He crushed his lips against hers, and felt her response immediately. His tongue plunged into her mouth and dueled with hers as he forced her backwards against the sheepskin.

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