Blood Red (12 page)

more. Forcing would only cause true pain—though some women enjoyed the game of a dominant man inflicting his will and desires.”

“I wouldn’t.”

His laugh teased against her ear. “In truth, what I enjoyed most was the complete focus on the sex and the game. I don’t live to inflict pain. I’ve known pain. I don’t enjoy giving or receiving blows that are truly vindictive or cruel. But when I was immersed in the games—

nothing else existed in the world but the power and the creation of punishment and pleasure. I would spend days in a lavish dungeon, with bound, voluptuous slaves, acting as a depraved and decadent king. And spend hours devising ways to tie up my dutiful servants. To wrap them with ropes and chains so that their every struggle would heighten their pleasure.”

Despite herself, she whimpered. Aroused, frightened, stunned.
I’ve known pain
.

He laughed again. Rougher. “So you see. Very addictive.”

“Do you wish to do that with me?”

“Only if you wish to try, love.”

She shook her head “But what pain have you known?”

“Much. And very little love, sweet angel. What I saw in your eyes as you looked down upon me in my coffin was the most tenderness I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t believe that. You exaggerate.”

“It’s God’s truth, Althea. I’ve been whipped within an inch of my life by the man whose seed spawned me.”

Before she could say a word, Bastien’s fingers parted the slippery, hot folds of her quim and slid inside. His hand lovingly cradled her breast.

No, no, she couldn’t let him do this. She tried to push his hand away and he withdrew, resting his sticky fingers at the apex of her sex, within her curls.

“But in your dreams, didn’t you enjoy having two men make love to you? After all, that way your pleasure isn’t limited to the skills of one man.”

“Love is more important than skill!”

“I would love you just as much as Yannick would, and very likely more, my dove.”

Could a vampire love her? No, it wasn’t possible. They didn’t have souls. He was using the word to lure her into sin. She needed to understand more of his relationship with Zayan.

“Did you love, Zayan?” she asked again. “Did…did you kiss him?”

“On the mouth, yes. On his cock, too.”

Goodness! She thought of Yannick’s tongue gliding over her intimate regions. “Did you kiss his—”

“His where, love?” His fingers dipped between her lips again. She flushed in the dark. She was wet and bubbling.

“Mmm,” he murmured as his finger slid in and stirred her. “Did Yannick kiss you in other places than your lips and your sweet sex? Your nipples, I’m sure.” He gently pinched the one he held. “For I’d love to suck these plump cherries into my mouth. And where else?”

She couldn’t speak as guilt and need clashed.

“Somewhere scandalous then,” Bastien continued. “Did my dear brother put his tongue in Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 57

your derrière?”

Any doubt that he truly did share women with Yannick vanished. How else could he know so exactly what his brother had done? But still she did not answer. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t force a sound out of her throat.

“Yes, love. Men do that too.”

The sudden image of Bastien and another man doing such things should horrify. Instead she squirmed at the stab of desire.

Althea gulped. Afraid of herself, now. She was glad he was behind her, where he couldn’t read her face.

“When men make love, they use their mouths and cocks. Even their toes. And they love to have their nipples sucked, their mouths deeply kissed. You know, of course, that when a man and a woman kiss, his erection often presses against her eager quim, a promise of the fun to follow. When men kiss, their cocks parry like swords and the sensation thrills just as much, I assure you.”

Another image burst into her wanton mind. Of two men with hips tipped together, fencing with their erect members.

“And men love to have their cocks sucked. Another man’s mouth is as warm and accommodating and skilled as a woman’s.”

His casual words shocked her. “You mean that anyone would do when…when you’re aroused.”

“No, sweet, I don’t mean that at all. And before Zayan, I would never have touched another man. But once Zayan made love to me, took me in his mouth, penetrated me, I was addicted.”

Bastien bent over her—she couldn’t see him, but sensed him there.

His lips covered hers in a kiss, hot and soft, tempting hers to part. His fangs grazed her lower lip. Sparks shot from her lip to her quim and she moaned into his open mouth. He tipped her back and she lost her balance, suspended almost magically by his hand on her breast, his mouth on hers. His tongue slid in, teased, filled.

His voice slipped into her mind.
But in our dreams, little dove, I fell in love with you.

She fell completely into his kiss.

“What in bloody hell are you doing?”

Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 58

Yannick’s harsh voice broke the spell. Althea pulled hard away from Bastien and slid from the bed. She tried to land on her feet but they gave way beneath her.

Yannick caught her before she fell. He gathered her up in his arms, engulfing her against his naked chest. Her lips brushed the whorls of his hair. She fit tight against his body, her belly a cradle for his erection, and she breathed in his scent—the trace of sandalwood on naked skin, the tang of his underarms, the rich, primal aroma of his naked male parts. She hadn’t heard him—

she’d been so caught up in Bastien, she hadn’t even known he’d arrived.

Two questions hammered through her head.

Why had he come to her?

How much had he seen?

“I—I—” She tried to think of an explanation. There wasn’t one, of course. She’d been kissing his brother. Worse, she could smell her own arousal, and she didn’t doubt Yannick could too.

He must hate her completely. Her betrayal was so absolute.

Bastien’s shocking words came back to her.
I always share women with my brother.

Perhaps in dreams and perhaps in the past, but Yannick sounded none too happy now. Her face flamed with shame. She stuttered a few more hopeless vowels. Until she realized Yannick’s furious glare focused on his brother and his arms were gentle around her.

“I seem to remember that this is the part of the dream where I suggest you pinch her nipples.” Bastien’s voice, insolent and mocking, came from her rumpled bed.

Yannick’s grip tightened. “What did y—” He stopped, as though seeking control. “What did he do to you?”

She guessed he had been about to demand what she had done, how far she had allowed Bastien to go. “Nothing,” she said. Which wasn’t true. Yannick must know it. He had seen Bastien’s hands—one on her breast, one between her thighs. He’d seen their kiss.

“I…I let him. Touch me. Kiss me.”

Her mattress shifted with a creak. “And no reason why you shouldn’t, sweet angel. Why so possessive, brother? You know she’d love to be shared by us. She is a uniquely sensual woman.”

“I’m not,” she protested in little more than a hoarse whisper. “Not that sort.”

“But we know that you are, Althea,” Bastien insisted, “and between us we have more than enough experience to judge that.”

Goodness, could they see aspects of her soul that she didn’t even know herself?

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A spark flared near her bedside table, revealing a large masculine hand, the lean, graceful bones of a strong wrist, a powerful forearm. The hand moved to put the light to the wick, which caught, then glowed. “It is not fair that you can’t see too, little dove.”

As the flame grew, devouring the wax, the light accentuated Bastien’s flowing golden hair, his well-muscled torso. The glow slid along his hip, touched the top of his lean leg, gleamed along the length of his large, erect cock.

“So.” He clapped his hands together and his member wobbled with his enthusiasm. “Let the games begin.”

“No.” Yannick spoke the word with all the arrogance of an earl—thy will be done.

Bastien frowned. “In my dreams, we shared. Did you have some with the lass alone?”

Yannick merely smiled. A conceited grin that Althea guessed would anger Bastien.

And it did. Bastien’s silvery eyes reflected the flickering candle flame, and sparks glinted in the soft dark. “No wonder you didn’t rush to free me, you bastard.”

“I had other reasons for that, Bastien.” Only the faintest whisper of light struck Yannick’s white-blond hair. His lashes were lowered, changing his eyes to shimmering half-moons.

“You didn’t free him from the collar, did you?” she breathed up to Yannick.

“Collar?”

“A device she hoped would imprison us, dear brother.” Bastien wore the smug smirk now.

“She had one waiting in the bed for you.”

“Though I must admit,” Bastien continued, his deep voice silkily dangerous, “the thought of wearing a collar that made me her slave does intrigue. What did you plan to do with us both at your mercy, sweet? Sit first on his cock and then on mine?”

“Bastien,” Yannick warned, but she felt his erection buck against her backside. Apparently, Bastien’s words excited him.

“I had hoped to entice you both to slay Zayan.”

At the word
entice
, a crackling energy surged from both men and she felt it.

“Did you indeed?” Yannick murmured. He cupped her breasts, still swollen from Bastien’s attentions. Her nipples immediately hardened and poked into his palms.

She couldn’t see Yannick’s face, but she suspected he’d directed a look of triumph at his twin.

Who crossed his arms over his magnificent chest. “Did you plan to
entice
us at the same time?”

“I doubt she did,” Yannick challenged.

“You mean to ask the poor sweet to choose?” Bastien flopped back onto her bed. It squawked in protest as over six feet of solid muscle landed hard upon it. “No, you didn’t, did you? You intended to take her for yourself, without even allowing the young lady to have a say.

Arrogant sod. So what about her dreams then, Yannick? Not going to let the little sweetheart live out her dreams?”

His legs dangled over the sides of her bed, bare feet on the floor. He reached down and pushed his fist behind his cock, to lift it upright. It didn’t stand straight, but listed to the left.

Just as she’d seen it in dreams, his member possessed a thick head, wider than the top of his shaft. Perhaps that was why it tipped over, top-heavy.

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“Don’t ask her to choose, Yannick,” Bastien cajoled. “Don’t be such so bloody selfish.

You know as well as I how much a pleasure a woman receives from two lovers. Of course,” he added, “when I put the idea of making a choice to her, she said she’d choose neither of us.”

Yannick’s brow merely lifted. His expression appeared carved in granite. “What else did you expect? She destroys the likes of us. She planned to imprison us, use us, then kill us.” His hands squeezed tightly over her breasts on the word
kill
.

A protest died on Althea’s lips. What Yannick described was exactly what she must do.

But Bastien laughed, the devil’s own chuckle. “She’s a determined one, though, I must admit. Strong willed.”

She was anything but. “I am here in the room, I might remind the both of you. Don’t speak of me as though I’m not.”

Yannick brushed a kiss to the top of her head, but she no longer trusted pretty gestures from him. She didn’t doubt he was angry and she didn’t doubt an angry vampire could kill her in a heartbeat. Not when he feared his survival was at stake. Her stomach churned—her betrayals now put her at risk.

“But,” Yannick continued, speaking over her head, “Even knowing that she’d happily put a stake in my heart, I still want to make love to her.”

“As do I. But then men are doomed to think with their pricks.”

The entire tenor of the room changed. The brothers looked at her, not at each other. She saw Bastien’s intense gaze and felt Yannick’s. Camaraderie replaced dispute, and she was certain the brothers had shared a wicked smile over her head. It was as though she’d stepped into one of her dreams where both men were relaxed and delighted with the idea of sharing her, as they coaxed her to accept it.

Her head was spinning. First her guilt and fear over Yannick. Then her disturbing lust for Bastien. And now, they planned to…planned to—

She’d thought she’d shared a special intimacy with Yannick but she saw now that it couldn’t have been the same for him. He lived a scandalous sex life she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Yannick nudged her toward the bed. Althea let her feet obey his wish.

Bastien knifed up to a sitting position, eyes smiling, lips on a level with her approaching crotch.

“I imagine she tastes delicious?” he asked.

“Ambrosia itself,” Yannick promised.

“But you didn’t taste her most precious nectar?”

“No, and you won’t tonight.”

Bastien flicked his long hair back over his shoulder and leaned forward until his chin rested on her right thigh. He bunched up her skirt, lifting and lifting her hem. The heavy cotton skimmed her knees. He reached the spot where her inner thighs touched.

“We want to fulfill your every fantasy,” Bastien whispered, then ducked his head beneath her skirt.

She squealed as his hot mouth closed on her quim, as his tongue snaked out.

“Patience, brother,” Yannick warned and his powerful arms scooped her up and away from Bastien’s mouth.

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His mouth took hers, claimed it. Ruthlessly, he kissed her, plunging his tongue inside as though to remind her to whom she’d belonged first.