Enraptured (16 page)

“Queen Isadora told me you and the others went to throw the Sirens off our trail.”

Isa had talked to her? Fabulous. Just what he needed. “Worried about them?”

“No, they can handle themselves. They’re well trained.”

“Backup?” he asked. “For when I decide to kill you?”

Another shot of guilt rushed across her face before she glanced away. For the first time he noticed the scattering of patio furniture on this terrace. A couple of chaise lounges stacked together near what looked like a room made of glass. Inside he could see shapes, like other furniture stored for safekeeping.

“Perhaps,” she said, “but I don’t think that’s why they were sent.”

Orpheus brought his attention back to her, crossed his arms over his chest. Reminded himself he wasn’t up here to take in the scenery. He was here for answers. And to get rid of her. “Then why were they sent? I think it’s time you stopped fucking with me and laid it on the line. We both know you want the Orb. We both know Zeus sent you. What I want to know is why he sent other Sirens to tail you.”

She bit her lip, the first blatantly nervous move he’d seen her make since they’d met. And a trickle of unease settled in his belly. “He sent them because he doesn’t trust me.”

“And why doesn’t he trust you?”

“Because he’s not stupid,” she muttered.

He was just about to ask what the hell that meant when she took another step toward him, this time with determined eyes. Eyes that said she’d just gone on the offensive. “You weren’t chosen by the gods to become an Argonaut. You only got those markings when your brother died.”

His spine stiffened. And the memory of what had happened to Gryphon whipped through him like a hurricane, pulling tight whatever was left inside his chest until it was hard to breathe.

That
damn
Isadora.

“I’d already started to suspect you were after the Orb for something other than what I’d been told, but now I know for sure. You’re going after the Orb to save him, aren’t you?”

Why was she moving toward him? He took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You’re just so used to working alone, you’d rather everyone go on thinking you’re a sonofabitch out for his own gain than have them know you’re trying to do some kind of good.”

He wasn’t trying to do good. He was simply trying to right a wrong that shouldn’t have happened. His brother was the hero, not him. He’d done more bad shit in his life than most. He was the one who deserved to be in Tartarus, not Gryphon. All Gryphon had done was try to make the world a better place.

“I’m not having this conversation with you. You can believe whatever stupid fairy tale you want. I only came up here to tell you it’s time for you to leave. Maelea’s staying here and your Siren buddies are gone. I’ll take you back to the forest, but from there you’re on your own.”

“You’re letting me go? Just like that? Your friends aren’t afraid I’ll tell Zeus and the others where their colony is located?”

“I’ll make sure you don’t remember.” He turned for the steps. “Let’s go.”

“No, I’m not going back.” When he looked over his shoulder, he caught the challenge in her eyes. “I’m going with you to the Underworld.”

“You are higher than a kite.” He stepped down, waved his hand in a
come
on
motion. “Move your ass, Siren. I don’t have all day.”

No sound echoed behind him. He looked back across the patio. She stood in the middle of the space with her arms crossed over her chest and her boots shoulder-width apart in a very clear
make
me
pose. “Afraid you might actually need my help, daemon?”

“I don’t need anyone. And I sure as hell wouldn’t trust you if I did.”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? That’s why I moved Maelea. You either take me with you or you can spend the next two weeks searching for her in this mausoleum.”

He moved back up to the terrace. “No, you didn’t.”

“Think again, daemon. Maelea knows the people here don’t really want her. She’d happily stay in a hole in the ground if it meant she didn’t have to face them. Trust me when I say she’s locked up safe and sound in a portion of this castle with enough food and water to last her for several weeks at least.”

There was just enough gloating in her eyes to make him wonder if she’d done exactly what she claimed. “Why, you little—”

A victorious grin cut across her perfect face. “Ah, now that’s more like it. Have you noticed your eyes don’t turn green anymore when you’re mad?”

He’d have had more luck following her train of thought if she were speaking in a foreign language. All he knew was that she was fucking with his plans. Fucking with his head again too, standing there looking gorgeous and defiant and totally turned on by his temper.

He crossed the patio, stopped in front of her. Used his size and strength as intimidation factors. “Tell me where she is.”

She pursed her lips. “Mm, I don’t think so. Tell me you’re going after your brother.”

Maelea would be quaking in her shoes. But not Skyla. No, she liked confrontation. “Siren, I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Oh, but you like games. That’s why you’ve kept me around this long. That and the fact you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. There’s too much honor in you for that.”

“There’s no honor in me.”

“Oh yes, daemon. There is. Way more than you think.”

The last of his patience slipped away. The need to prove he was nothing but the monster that lived inside bubbled through his restraint.

He grasped her by the bicep, whipped her around so her back was plastered to his chest, and held her immobile. She sucked in a surprised breath but didn’t fight back. “We’re done playing games,” he breathed in her ear. “And your usefulness has run its course. If you don’t want to get hurt, you’ll tell me where Maelea is. And then you’ll do as I said and leave this place for good.”

Her body trembled against his, but he sensed it wasn’t fear that sent that shiver down her spine. It was arousal. A twisted, wicked, steaming arousal that triggered his own depraved need. A need that locked on tight whenever she was near.

“Go on,” she whispered, pressing that cute little ass of hers back into his groin. “Hurt me. I dare you.”

Skyla should have been cold. She’d been up on this windy terrace for the last twenty minutes. But everything she’d learned tonight, coupled with what she’d already known, mixed together with the heat from the warrior at her back to fuel the fire in her veins.

She’d wanted him from the first. Before she’d known who he was. Before she’d realized their connection. Before she’d discovered his soul wasn’t black, as she’d been led to believe.

She’d wanted him the moment she’d seen him in that crowd. Had been attracted to the danger. To the unpredictability. To the way he said
fuck
you
to the world as if he lived life with no boundaries. Yes, there were moments when she glimpsed Cynurus in him, but the man he’d been before wasn’t what called to her now. What called to her was the man he’d become, daemon and all. At some point over her long, carefully ordered years, she’d forgotten what it felt like to live. She’d forgotten what it felt like to want. He’d brought that back for her.

Orpheus.

Her heart skipped double time as she pressed her hips back against his groin again, teasing him with what she knew he’d been watching since they met. “Don’t have it in you daemon? Don’t tell me when it comes right down to it, you’re all talk.”

“You’re trying to seduce me again, Siren. Comes easy to you, especially when you’re in a bind.” His fingers grazed her breast. She drew in a breath as heat penetrated her skin. “But I’ve been teased enough. We both know you have no intention of following through.”

This time she did, though. This time it wasn’t about getting what Zeus wanted. It was about getting what she wanted. “Daemon—”

He grasped her shoulder and whipped her to face him. Before she caught her footing, he picked her up off the ground and tossed her over his shoulder.

She pressed her hands to the small of his back, tried to angle herself up. “Okay, put me down.”

His boots clanked as he crossed the veranda. “You want down?”

He tossed her from his shoulder. Chilled air swept up her spine. A gasp caught in her throat as she felt herself falling. Darkness surrounded her, and for a second she wasn’t sure he hadn’t thrown her over the side of the railing.

Then her back hit something crunchy soft and icy cold, and she realized he’d dropped her on one of the chaise lounges left up here in the weather. The thin layer of frigid snow matted her hair, sent shivers down her spine. She tried to push herself up, but he straddled her body before she found her feet and grasped both of her hands, yanking them high above her head against the back of the chair, pinning her in place.

He leaned close, his hot breath washing over her ear to heat her chilled skin, his thighs brushing the outside of her hips to send quivers of delight straight to her center. “I think maybe it’s time you took a turn on the other side. See what it’s like to be the prey instead of the hunter.”

Her blood heated at the image he painted, and any thought of fighting back quickly fled from her mind. “Planning on seducing me, daemon?”

His teeth closed over her earlobe. “And then leaving you hot and bothered.”

Oh,
yesssss
.

His kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear, worked his way down her throat. Anticipation curled in her stomach. There was just enough mean in the way he nipped at her flesh to tell her he was good and truly pissed, but it didn’t hurt. And if his plan was to get back at her, he was failing miserably. Because this was exactly what she wanted.

He captured both of her hands with one of his, slid the other down her torso to cup her breast. While his lips and teeth continued their assault on her throat, she arched her back, offering him whatever he wanted. His mouth stilled against her skin, his hand hesitated over her breast. Knowing she’d just surprised him, her lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk. Until, that is, he grasped her shirt at the neckline and yanked, ripping it in two all the way to her waist.

She gasped. Struggled beneath his hold. Icy air washed over her torso. In a move too quick to follow, he flicked the front clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air and shivers raced over her flesh. “Orpheus…”

He let go of her bra, reached over the side of the chaise. When his hand came back she spotted the handful of snow and her eyes grew wide. “Orpheus—”

“Cold or turned on. Let’s see which it is.”

He balled the snow together. Her stomach caved in as he brought it toward her skin. Holding her breath, she flicked a look at his gray eyes and saw the flash of arousal hidden behind his wicked stare. No green. No daemon. Just an arousal that superheated her blood all over again.

She bit her lip and watched as he grazed the ball of snow against the underside of her breast, then slowly circled her nipple. Icy-cold sensations sent gooseflesh all over her body. The snow was so cold, pinpricks of pain stabbed her flesh but quickly melted against her warmth, creating a river of liquid that dripped off her naked breast to splash cool and wet against her belly.

“I think you like that, Siren.”

She did. More than she would ever have expected. The circle grew smaller until the icy-cold wetness brushed across her nipple, sending shards of pleasure right to her core. She bit down harder on her lip to keep from moaning, dropped her head back against the chaise, and closed her eyes. Arched her back again. Offered even more.

He chuckled, moved the snowball to her other breast, repeated the circle, the tease, the wetness and heat. Caught between torment and ecstasy, Skyla lifted her hips and moaned when she felt his erection hovering just above her.

“Oh, no, no, no. You’re not in charge of this, Siren.”

He moved away. Let go of her hands. Fabric brushed her hip. Cool air washed over her thighs. She peered up to the twinkling sky above as he tugged her pants down her legs, exposing every last inch of her.

Yes.

She pushed up on her elbows, thankful her pants were stretchy so she could spread her thighs to make room for him. Moonlight washed over his thick hair and broad shoulders. He was still wearing the thin jacket from before, was probably warm and snug in his clothes, while she was out in the elements shivering, but she didn’t care. Because the desire rolling through his gaze was enough to heat whatever chill the night brought with it.

“I never used ice on you,” she pointed out.

“Are you cold? I figured for an ice princess like you, this’d be nothing new.”

A pinprick of hurt cut through her chest, but she pushed it aside, because again he was right. She had been an ice princess. For way too long. But that changed now.

He trailed the melting snow down her belly to the top of her mound. She sucked in a breath when the ice grazed the sensitive flesh between her legs. Frigid cold water dripped down her overheated skin to pool beneath her ass against the frozen cushion. And though she told herself his twisted torture shouldn’t be turning her on, she knew it was. Cold and hot warred with pleasure and torment as he ran the ice over her clit again and again and jolts of electricity lit up her groin with a heat she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

She dropped her head back and closed her eyes, this time giving in to the sensations and moaning as she lifted her hips. He kept up the assault on her clit with the ice, but his warm fingers slid lower, against her quivering flesh, then finally inside her where she wanted him most.

“Oh,
yesssss
.” Her elbows went out from under her. Her back landed against the now-damp cushion. She groaned, turned herself over to him, all but begged for more. He stroked her clit with the ice, searched deeper with his fingers until all she wanted was more.

“Definitely enjoying.” He withdrew, pressed back in with a second finger. She gasped at the tight feel and pressed her hips against his strokes. At some point the ice must have melted because she felt his warm fingers against her clit, in stark contrast to the cold, but she was too gone to care how or with what he was touching her. The fiery edges of an orgasm she’d gone too long without hovered just beyond her reach.

Just before it crashed into her, he withdrew. Cool air washed over her skin again, and the cushion at her sides dipped. She opened her eyes, anticipating him climbing over her to take and taste, only when she looked up he was standing at her feet, staring down at her with a self-satisfied expression. One that reeked of victory and shone with distrust.

“You’re good, Siren, but you’re not that good.” He tugged the jacket from his arms, tossed it to her. “Get your stuff together and meet me back in the great hall. And you’d better hope Ghoul Girl’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.”

He made it two steps away before her iced-over brain clicked into gear and instinct took over where logic should reign.

She was on her feet in a flash, tugging her pants back up, her boots clicking on the cold stones beneath her heels as she threw his jacket on the ground. Her ripped shirt slapped open against her sides as she grabbed his arm, spun him back to face her. Surprise erupted in his gray eyes, followed by a shot of anger that tightened his face, but he didn’t intimidate her. She’d seen enough from him over the last few days to know that even with his daemon, he had too much honor to hurt a female. Even one who’d been sent to kill him.

She stepped close before he could block her, twisted around so her back was to his front, held tight to his forearm, and shifted her center of gravity back, lifting him off the ground and tossing him over her shoulder to land on the chaise he’d just had her pinned to.

He landed with a grunt. The legs of the chaise snapped beneath his weight and a splintering sound echoed across the veranda.

She tugged off her ruined shirt, leaned over, and dropped it on his chest. “I am that good, daemon.” She moved to the door and paused with her fingers on the handle, glanced back over her shoulder with her best
I
dare
you
look. “And you’re wrong. This time I do intend to follow through. The question is whether or not you’re man enough to deal with it.”

The room was hexagonal. Four walls were solid—two on each end. The two long walls between were made only of glass, separated by thick, intricately carved wooden beams. A wide archway over each window rose to dramatic wooden trusses that lifted two stories to the roof’s peak.

There was more patio furniture in here, stacked against the far-end walls and what looked like a door. Mismatched cabinets and wooden tables were piled against one glass wall. A blackened fireplace and empty bookshelves took up space on the other side of the room, and a series of boxes that weren’t marked had been pushed up against the fireplace as if left there and forgotten.

“Follow-through, huh?” Orpheus’s voice echoed from the doorway. Tingles of anticipation raced down her spine as she turned. He stood in the shadows, a menacing mixture of heat and the need she’d known would follow. “You wouldn’t be playing me again, now would you, Siren?”

She rested her hands on her hips, stepped wider to form what she knew was a very attractive V with her lower body. The cool air tightened her nipples, the moonlight accentuated her curves. She cocked her head and pulled up her sexiest Cheshire Cat grin. “Me? I’m done playing. How about you, cowboy? You said when I was ready to ride to tell you. Well, I’m ready.”

For a heartbeat neither of them moved, and then before she could gasp he was across the floor, tugging her tight against his rock-hard chest, drawing her mouth up to his, and claiming her lips as if they were his own.

Heat replaced chill. Need circumvented want. Electricity jolted through her entire body, forcing out common sense. She grasped his thin henley in both hands, slid her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his, used her grip to lever herself up when his hands rushed down to her ass and he lifted her.

“Orpheus—”

“Wrap your legs around me.”

She did, hooked one arm around his shoulders, used the other to tug his face to hers and kiss him all over again. Her butt hit something cold. She didn’t realize he’d carried her across the room until he dropped her on a desk pushed up against the glass wall.

Why hadn’t she wanted to kiss him before? He tasted of mint and madness. Of desire and longing, all the things she knew she tasted of as well.

“Skin,” she mouthed against him as she clawed at his shirt. He broke the kiss long enough to let her drag it over his head, then took her mouth again in another hot, wet, mind-numbing kiss that drove her closer to the edge.

Gods, this was heaven. This was home. This was everything she’d been missing.

She fumbled with the button on his jeans, finally gave up, grasped the two halves of his waistband, and pulled hard. The button popped and flew across the floor. He tore his mouth from hers and looked down, his bare chest rising and falling with his labored breaths, that scruff on his cheeks from days without shaving so damn sexy, it was all she could do not to take a bite out of him. “Impatient?”

“Yes.” She pushed both hands inside his pants, slid them past his hips. “You. Naked. Now.”

Desire darkened his eyes. He growled, then his mouth was back on hers, this time with frantic kisses stealing her breath while she shoved his pants and boxers down to his thighs. His cock sprang up, hard and hot and pulsing. She wrapped her hand around the thickness, smiled against his lips when he groaned and pressed himself into her hand.

She hadn’t gotten to explore last time. She wanted that now. To find out for herself just what made him gasp. Which brush made him groan. How long it would take to make him come.

He fumbled with her pants again as she stroked him, pushing them down her hips. She lifted, wriggled so he could slide them down her ass. Grew frustrated when the fabric bunched against her boots.

He pulled his mouth from hers. “These have to go.”

He grasped her pants at the waistband and ripped them right down the middle as if they were nothing but paper.

A surprised laugh fell from her lips. “Now who’s impatient?”

“Me.” He wrapped his hand over hers, still covering his cock, guided it close to rub the head against her clit. She shivered, gasped in pleasure. “Is this what you want?”