Page 21 of Deep Within Me
She swallowed. Her throat quivered quite nicely. After a deep breath, she murmured, “They threw me out when I was fifteen. They said I was a bad influence on my little sisters.”
“Were you?”
“I don’t like rules.” Her eyes were glassy with arousal. However, she clearly fought it as though she needed to draw out the pleasure or deny him proof that he’d satisfied her. “I’m exactly like you are, Carreon. I don’t do what’s right. I do what I want.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“No?” She blew out a sigh then continued, “That’s not what my parents would say.”
“To hell with them.”
Her smile widened. “Exactly what they’d say about you. They may be from our clan, but they think you and your men arescum.” Her expression grew ecstatic as he rubbed faster, harder. “They’d hate me being here.”
“Maybe we can do something about their attitude.”
“Maybe. That would be—” She stopped, clearly unable to continue as she climaxed.
Carreon slipped two fingers deep inside her sheath to see if she was faking. Her muscles pulsed around the tips of his fingers. Hardly proof, given that any woman could simulate those contractions. Her cunt’s slickness was another matter entirely. She was beyond wet, her body relaxed with pleasure.
Before it passed, Carreon pulled his fingers from her then grabbed her wrist. Trinidad’s hand tightened around her weapon.
With more tenderness than it was his custom to use, Carreon eased her fingers from the switchblade. If she resisted in the least, he’d break every one of her digits.
As though she understood his character was as indecent as hers, Trinidad submitted. Carreon took the switchblade and slipped it back into its sheath within her boot.
She made a sound that reminded him of a contented cat, claws withdrawn.
Angling her palm to the light, Carreon studied the reddish stain on her lifeline, the size of a large freckle or a mole. In her file, Ernez had recorded her height, weight, measurements, all body marks. This one was the most important.
Liz and her father also had the discoloring on their palms, though theirs were far larger.
Proof, Liz had said, that her and her father’s gifts were the strongest. Others in their clan may be able to heal, but none of them—at least according to Liz—had the indisputable mark of a primary healer, the greatest there was.
Obviously, she and her father didn’t know about Trinidad.
“You can heal,” Carreon said.
She shrugged, her indifference returned. “I’ve been told that.”
Carreon stroked the discoloration, feeling a faint spark of energy emitting from it…or so he hoped. “You’ve never tried?”
“My parents wanted me to heal my little sister when she fell from a tree and broke her leg. I said it would cost them a hundred bucks. Was that too much to ask?”
Carreon laughed. “Cheap, I’d say.”
She returned his smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Exactly. They cursed me. Said I was no good.” Another shrug. “That’s the only time I’ve been asked to use it.”
“Until now.” He switched off the charm and got serious. “Ernez.”
The young man’s shoulders were hunched, the handkerchief around his sliced hand wet with blood. Obediently, he joined them, his breathing shallow and fast.
“Take off the handkerchief,” Carreon ordered.
The moment Ernez did, Carreon spoke to Trinidad. “Heal him.”
She lifted her shoulders as if to say,sure, why not?,then took Ernez’s hand in both of hers and licked off his blood.
“Aw shit,” he growled, his upper lip curling, “don’t do that. You’ll give me some fucking disease, you goddamn—”