Storm Born Page 0,94

to hold back much longer. I was the powerful one here. I was taking what I wanted. But first, I needed to make sure he knew that.

"Say it," I told him between heavy breaths. "Tell me you're mine. Tell me, and I'll let you come. I'll let you come in me. I'll let you explode in me."

"Eugenie..." he moaned when I started to slow my pace.

"You're mine," I told him again. The lovely agony between my thighs was almost too much to bear. I was going to lose it.

But Kiyo lost control first. "Yes...yes. Oh, God, Eugenie. I'm yours."

The power of that admission set me off, both physically and mentally. Crying out, I threw back my own head as I came. I didn't need to see his face to know he was coming too. I could feel it, feel it in the way his body spasmed inside of mine. Squeezing him tighter, I earned another moan of pleasure from him and another orgasm for me. It was glorious. We both shook from the force of our own reactions.

When we finally collapsed apart, sweating and panting, neither of us could say a word. Finally Kiyo rested his head on my chest as though seeking comfort or protection.

"Yours," he murmured at last, just before falling asleep.

Chapter Twenty

I became merely mortal the next morning, the last lingering memories of magic recalled only in theory, not in feeling. I wanted to try to explain the dream-memory to Kiyo, how I'd at last recalled what happened between Storm King and me before Roland killed him. But I didn't know how to explain it. I barely understood magic at all and found recapturing that terrifying yet glorious feeling nearly impossible.

Besides, I had other things to worry about today. It was Beltane Eve.

I found myself busy almost from the crack of dawn. Beltane - or May Day - ushers in the return of life to the year; many western European cultures consider it a peak day for fertility and conception. Apparently many Otherworldly creatures do too. Like Halloween - or Samhain - the gates between the worlds open, facilitating passage between humans and the Otherworldly alike. Midnight on May 1 was the ultimate opening, but the passages steadily increased throughout the day on April 30.

Since my presence at Dorian's party tonight was common knowledge, many must have decided to get in their chance before I left the human world. Fortunately, most of these same gentry and assorted creatures were those who could not have passed through under normal circumstances. This meant they were considerably weaker and hence easier to banish or destroy. Unfortunately, when they came in a steady stream, they also became a huge and exhausting annoyance.

I got home around dinnertime, not long before I was supposed to show up in the Otherworld. Hastily, I shed my sweaty clothes and took the world's fastest shower. Afterward, I managed a makeup job rivaling the last one, but it cost me time. With minutes ticking away, I threw on the dress Lara had procured and ran a quick brush through my damp hair. There was nothing else to be done with it. I threw a little mousse into it to avoid frizz, and then I was off to the desert.

Dorian had wisely put my Slinky anchor in a more secure place than a flimsy table. I appeared in a small chamber where a servant had awaited my arrival. He gave me a polite bow and then took me straight to Dorian's room. Inside it, I found pandemonium.

Male and female servants ran in and out, doing God only knew what. Dorian stood in front of a giant mirror, checking himself out in an azure blue robe. A stout man hovered nearby with about a dozen other robes weighing down his arm. It was the same man, I realized, whose place I'd taken in croquet.

"Eugenie Markham," announced my escort.

Dorian gave me half a glance. "Lady Markham, so nice to - sweet gods. She's wearing beige."

I looked down. Lara had found me a clingy silk dress in a shade she termed "champagne": a warm ivory tinged with gold. I wouldn't have thought the color worked for me, but she apparently knew me better than I did. The strapless bodice was gathered and decorated with a bit of iridescent beading meant to imitate buttons down the middle. From the waist down, the skirt cascaded in smooth, shining folds. It fit snugly against my silhouette, flaring slightly only when it hit my