Dazzled: Reckless Desires - final ARC (12 page)

Legs trembling so much she wasn't certain she wouldn't fall on her face as she followed him, Lacey obeyed. The sheer thrill of simply doing what he asked her to, trusting him without question, made her moan out loud.

At the chair, Sebastian turned to her and said in a low voice, "Lie down on it. I want full access to your own delicious treats."

Lacey was pretty sure she was about to hyperventilate. Not taking her eyes off his, she somehow backed herself to the chair, reaching behind to feel for it so she wouldn't land on her ass on the burgundy red paving stones of the
placita,
and sank into it.

Sebastian stood there, controlled power screaming from every inch of his muscled body, just watching her. She scooted herself back until she was nestled into the chair, legs stretched out in front of her. Sebastian smiled, something so marveling, so appreciative, breaking across his face that Lacey felt lightheaded along with the potential hyperventilation.

Was he going to…? Did he want her to...?

"Are you wearing anything under that dress of yours?" His voice was a dark, sinuous glide of desire that stroked up against Lacey's senses.

Mute, she nodded. Damn. Apparently she hadn't got the memo that she wasn't supposed to wear underpants to dinner.

"Open those beautiful legs of yours. I need to see you." Sebastian never took his eyes off her as he spoke, though she caught a glimpse of his pulse pounding hard in his throat where the luminarias cast it into light.

Shaking with the wild anticipation of what was about to come, Lacey did exactly as he asked. She felt absolutely no trepidation about baring herself in front of him. She felt utterly safe. Right now, she would do anything in the world he asked and not even bat an eyelash.

So suddenly she hardly saw him move, Sebastian leaped down, reached out his hand, and easily ripped away the flimsy, pretty little underpants that were all that kept her freshly shaved pussy from his view. Before she could even gasp, he rested the upper half of his body on the chair, nestled his head between her legs, and took a long, luxurious lick.

At that, Lacey couldn't stop the small, whimpering scream that burst out of her throat. Flinging her head back against the softness of the chair, her fingers clenched so hard around the wine stem she still held she wondered if she was about to break it. Yet she was past caring, because his tongue was licking, flicking, tasting, swirling, dipping into her to drink deeply of her juices.

Then he pulled back, murmuring a highly appreciative “Mmm” as he did so. Reaching down to her dessert plate that he'd set beside the chair, he scooped up a bit of the chocolate into his mouth. “Your wine,” he said, gesturing at the glass she still held in her hand.

Trembling a little, Lacey handed the glass to him. He didn't try to take it, though, but simply inclined his head toward it to sip. She tipped it a bit at the edges of his lips, watching with tense anticipation as his took a sip into his mouth. He swirled the flavors together before swallowing, holding Lacey's eyes with his own the entire time.

“Oh,” she whispered, enthralled. She felt so heavy between her legs, so plump and filled with need, she knew she would burst almost the second he touched her there again.

Giving her a smoldering glance, Sebastian lowered his head back between her legs, licking and sucking and swirling his tongue into her.

Without any more stimulation than that, Lacey tumbled straight off the edge into a burbling little orgasm that caught her by surprise, leaving her mouth half open in another, this time silent, cry, her head still flung back against the chair, her free hand gripping its wooden armrest.

Sebastian didn't stop his ministrations until the final quiver left Lacey's body, allowing her finally to flop down on the chair, her ragged gasps filling the soft night air. When one last, soft touch of his tongue caused her to jump, now so super sensitized down there that the feeling was too much, he sensed it and pulled back. Moving his way up the chair, his face hovered near hers as he whispered, "Open your eyes and look at me."

She did, feeling so gorgeously spent that it was an effort. Keeping his eyes open and locked on hers, Sebastian gently kissed her. His mouth tasted like her, the chocolate, the wine, his own dark, edgy self. It all threatened to tumble her over the glorious edge again, eager and willing for the beautiful, soaring fall.

They kissed for long, lazy moments, during which Lacey absently thought she was incredibly glad he'd asked Maria to give them privacy. His hands came up and worked their way into her hair, his eyes still holding hers, letting her sink into the beautiful, welcoming depths that made her feel so safe.

Finding the pins that held up her hair, Sebastian carefully, so as not to pull any strands, worked them out one by one, setting them onto the flat wooden armrest of the chair. Lacey helped by lifting her head to give him slightly better access. When his hands found the large, gold hairpin, he smiled. "One last barrier to seeing your gorgeous hair spread around your face and shoulders. I want to see your face again when you come, Lacey.” His tone was so serious, she caught her breath. “It's incredibly beautiful. It turns me on so much I almost feel as if I'll pass out."

A little too eagerly, she said, "Oh, I like the sound of that."

As laughter slightly crinkled the corners of his eyes, Sebastian finally pulled out the hairpin, casually glancing at it as he set it down on the armrest of the chair. Just as suddenly, all expression wiped clean from his face.

Lacey abruptly felt the air freeze between them.

Sebastian stared at the hairpin, his face paling in the flickering lights of the luminarias and the moon dancing far above. Slowly, he pushed himself back, away from Lacey, until he was standing again, the hairpin still in one hand.

"What?" she asked, dread tickling at her with cold fingers. "What's wrong?"

She sat up, nervously smoothing her dress back over herself. She suddenly felt completely exposed. Vulnerable. And somehow, for some reason, in the wrong. "Sebastian, what's going on? You look—"

He sliced the air with a sharp whip of his hand, instantly silencing her. When he finally dragged his gaze back up from small, golden hairpiece, Lacey felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. The look on his face as he stared at her was filled with rage, disgust.

Pure loathing.

He suddenly seemed twice as big, as if he was expanding. As if he was taking up more space than any man should. She almost could feel the fury pouring off of him, stabbing her like angry little knives. Unable to move beneath his vicious glare, Lacey stayed where she was, hardly breathing.

"You traitorous bitch," he said, his voice filled with an awful, aching rancor.

The venom of his tone, let alone the ugly word he flung at her, made Lacey recoil in sharp, sudden terror and renewed shock. He looked like he wanted to rip her apart with his bare hands.

Shaking the hairpin at her as well as his head in disbelief, he snapped, "So this is why I thought you were my mate.
This
is why I felt close to you. You had the last piece of my family's gold hoard with you. It wasn't you. You're just like
her.”
The expression on his face was an awful mix of bewilderment and fury. “You care nothing about me, and only about my wealth. My power.”

His rage, mingled with a horrendous, savage pain, cut right through her. She could almost feel the hurt. She opened her mouth to answer with something, anything, but he kept talking.

“Malcolm sent you here, didn't he?” Sebastian barked out a bitter laugh. “He is so determined to bring me down, he must have offered you a lot of money.”

Lacey still couldn't move.

“Tell me, Ms. Whitman"—the way he sneered her formal name made tears spring to Lacey's eyes as she stared at the man who not moments before had stroked her to ecstasy in such a way that she had seriously begun to realize she was actually falling for him—"how much did he offer you to do this? I'm sure you're set up for life now. Tell me the truth, Ms. Whitman. How much did that filthy bastard pay you off to destroy me completely?"

Sebastian thought his head might explode from the cacophony of thoughts and rage pounding through it. He felt his dragon side wanting to take over, wanting to lash out, leap into the air in wild flight, beat his wings against the sky. bugle out utter rage at being betrayed yet again.

He knew he was terrifying Lacey, but he couldn't care. She had the last piece missing from his hoard in her possession. The last piece he'd needed to bring back his powers in full, nestled into her golden hair just as she had wormed her way into his heart.

Like a duplicitous viper. The knowledge of how she, along with Malcolm, must've laughed at him as they plotted out this new way to bring him down made what had been the tentative unfurling of his withered heart snap shut again with such fury that it hurt.

Horrible pain stabbed through his chest, making it almost hard to breathe. The only way to deal with it was rage.

"Answer me," his voice growled. His voice came dark and low with the strength of his despairing dragon behind it.

Still cowering in the chair, eyes enormous and filled with tears, Lacey—no, Ms. Whitman, he snapped to himself, that lash of pain striking him again—shook her head. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, her voice wavering along with the tears that dropped from her eyes. "I don't understand a single word you just said." Her voice whispered as she stared at him.

Sebastian roared, "Yes, you do! You joined forces with Malcolm Kerberos to help him finally destroy the last living member of the Bernal family, making him the most powerful dragon shifter!” Rage made his voice lash through the air. “It's what he's always wanted.”

Bitter laughter ringed his words again despite Lacey's continued shaking of her head. “Tell me, did you enjoy planning this little trick? Did you laugh every time we talked at the museum, every time you strung me along into believing that you actually cared about my family's heritage? That you might actually have cared about me?" He let the last word hiss out of him, less by deliberation and more because he could barely control his own voice.

His dragon ricocheted around his head, demanding to be set free. Pain blossomed in his hand where he squeezed the hairpin so tightly the little golden wings of the metal dragon dug into his palm.

Sebastian felt like nothing more than a walking, talking, living being made up of sheer pain.

Running footsteps interrupted him. The door to the courtyard was flung open, Ricardo and then Maria racing out. Maria, ever the mother willing to scold him, began to open her mouth, a look of shock on her face, but Ricardo gently shushed her. Quietly he said, "Señor Sebastian, is everything okay?"

Lacey's hiccuping cries dropped into the little silence that followed. Before Sebastian could answer, Ricardo added, "I was just coming to get you anyway, sir. There is someone at the door to see you." Casting a glance at Lacey, Ricardo looked back at Sebastian with a worried expression. "We tried to discourage him, but he is very insistent that he speak to you immediately. I truly believe he is someone," and by the slight emphasis on that word, Sebastian knew that Ricardo meant whoever it was at the door was another dragon shifter, "you must speak to."

Another uncomfortable little silence held them, although by the way Maria's eyes snapped at him, he knew full well they'd both heard him yelling at Lacey. Maria obviously didn't agree with that. Well, she was like any mother would be, even to a child that never literally had been her own. She had been brought up to believe that no man should ever yell at a woman. She certainly wasn't willing to stand for Sebastian doing that.

"I will see to it," he said, not even bothering to glance at Ms. Whitman again as he pocketed the hairpin and strode toward the door leading into the main house. "Keep an eye on her and don't let her leave," he threw over his shoulder at Ricardo, brushing past them. He ignored Maria's furious glare.

Sebastian let rage and a sour, infuriatingly helpless pain drive his steps through the hacienda to the front door. Thoroughly on guard but also knowing he was so angry that if there was the slightest hint of any danger when he opened the door he would not hesitate to launch a deadly attack, he flung open the double doors of the outer courtyard with more force and perhaps a bit more dramatic flair than was strictly necessary. Yet he knew who would be there. An appearance of brute strength was necessary.

Malcolm Kerberos, supercilious smile and knowing grin rolled into one plastered across his face, stood outside. "Well. I see you got my small token of affection."

Gritting his jaw, clenching his fists at his side as he still battled his newly enraged dragon to keep from bursting forth through him so he could rend the bastard's face with his claws, Sebastian forced as much deadly quiet in his voice as he could. "You knew all along, didn't you. You knew I was looking for the missing pieces of my hoard."

Malcolm's smile only widened, his entire expression one of such triumph that Sebastian longed to simply smash him across the face and be done with it. However, that wasn't quite how things worked in the shifter world. There were rules. Regulations. Constant one-upmanship for control, coupled with a dragon shifter's native tendency toward unrestrained outbursts, had millennia ago dictated an ironclad set of rules that bound them all. Sebastian could no more attack the man on his own doorstep than Malcolm could attack him right now, either.

But if Malcolm attempted to enter Sebastian's house and do harm, then of course Sebastian could do everything he needed in order to protect himself and those within. Yet Malcolm was far too smart for that. In fact, his slippery, conniving ways had become far more clear to Sebastian in the past few minutes than he ever realized the other shifter was capable of.

Forcing himself to count to ten while he took long, quiet breaths in through his nose and slowly exhaled them out his mouth, Sebastian managed his temper as best he could before he answered. "Very well. So you finally realized what I was searching for. What you didn't realize, however, was that the hairpin was the last piece of my hoard." He gave Malcolm a challenging look. "My powers will be coming back in full force. There is nothing you can do to stop that now."