Prince of Shadows (13 page)

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Authors: Tes Hilaire

BOOK: Prince of Shadows
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Needing a moment, he broke the seal of their lips, though he couldn't bring himself to release his grip on her. They stood there, bodies tight together, mouths mere inches apart, their panting breaths mingling as their eyes devoured one another's face.

“What the hell was that for?” she whispered, her body shaking with a mix of desire and confusion. As if, though she obviously wanted this, she couldn't fathom why he would.

Silly
little
fool
still
doesn't understand why I came back
.

“You wanted to know why I care, right?” he asked, his thumb rubbing a circular path at the back of her neck. Damn but she had the softest skin. He wanted to touch every inch of it, brand it as his and his alone.

She nodded, though her brow was still pinched in confusion, her kiss-swollen lips clamped tight between her bottom teeth and one sweet little fang.

“The answer is simple, Gabby.” He rubbed his hips against hers, letting her feel how much he ached for her. “You're mine.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You're delusional.”

“Must suck to belong to a delusional man,” he said with a twisted smile, then crushed his mouth back down on hers.

Chapter 11

Okay, so maybe Valin wasn't the only one who was delusional, because whatever he was doing with his mouth on hers was crazy-ass good. And just like on that rooftop, she couldn't get enough.

Too many clothes. Or perhaps just too much…something. Since the clothes were more fathomable than whatever that something else might be, she went to work on them, her hands yanking at the oil-slicked material of the duster as she tried to pull it off his shoulders, though because he didn't seem to want to cooperate enough to release his grip on her, it got caught on his carved biceps. Stuck.

She made a mewling sound of frustration, her hands almost frantic as she tried to work the stiff material further down his arms. Most likely thinking she was trying to stop him, he growled, breaking the kiss long enough to pin his bourbon gaze on her.

She shuddered. Damn he was hot when he got all intense like this.

Breath skittering in and out of her lungs, she tried to explain. “Valin, let me…” She stomped her foot, frustrated by her loss of articulation. She finally managed to come out with, “your coat!” jerking on the offending piece of clothing as she did.

He blinked but nodded and began to help her. What ensued was a bit of a comedy of errors. Valin relented enough to release his possessive hold on her, but only one hand at a time, which might have been fine except that his skin had developed enough of a sheen of sweat that the thick fabric clung, kind of like when she tried to pull on her shirt after a shower when her skin was still damp, only the opposite. The result was a rather spectacular sight of Valin all but hissing and spitting as he spun in circles and fought with the coat that had ensnared him.

“Damn fucking Roland,” he muttered.

Her eyebrows flew up, but whatever thoughts or questions she had about the man he was cursing fled her brain the moment he decided to solve the entire problem by dissolving into the shade, then reforming the moment both duster and jeans plopped on the floor.

Oh, my. Yes, she'd seen him naked on multiple occasions now, but never had the situation or the lighting given her the opportunity to drink in the sight of Valin in all his naked—erect—glory. And the only thought she could come up with now was that she'd been wrong, he and his jangles weren't just fine, they were spectacular.

“Like what you see, cookie?” he asked, his voice dripping with smugness.

She jerked her chin up, meeting his dancing gaze. Conceited bastard.

He chuckled and took a step forward. His gaze dragged over her, lingering on the curve of her hips, then her rising and falling breasts, before settling on her swollen lips.

“You are so gorgeous.”

A shiver ran through her, but a good one, one that blended nicely with the heat pooling in her belly. He stopped just before her, his hands clenching and releasing at his sides, and waited. For what?

“Your turn, Gabby. I want to see every bit of that delicious body of yours, then I want to drag my tongue over every inch of exposed skin.” His lips curled up into a Cheshire cat smile. “And I do mean every inch.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. There wasn't a thing, sexually, that she hadn't either used, been exposed to, or heard of, but somehow the way Valin spoke, and the implied savoring of such an act, brought with it a whole new world of possibilities. Possibilities that all started and ended with the words: mutual pleasure. As if there could be such a thing in sex.

Even as she tried to keep her mind from traveling down unwanted roads, a memory surfaced, bubbling up through her growing anticipation like a rotted cadaver rising back to the surface. She'd been given to Stephan as part of his reward for achieving status as second, though she would be damned if she didn't meet the challenge for supremacy with all she had. Winning wasn't even about who came away with a smile on their face but about maintaining control. Losing was to be subjected to the other's will—forever. Gabby was good at winning; her inner succubus was good at making men beg. For a moment she thought she'd gotten the upper hand, but then Christos had slipped into the room. All it had taken was that break in her concentration. Next thing she knew the vampire twisted a fistful of her hair around his hand and forced her down to her knees before him. And Christos…Christos was smiling as he leaned back against the door to watch.

Valin growled, shattering the memory with a good shake of her shoulders. “Don't you fucking think about that. I'm not him. I'm not any of them.”

“No?” she looked pointedly down at the hands bruising her upper arms.

He cursed, dropping his hands and fisting them at his sides. His throat worked as he spoke. “I'm sorry I gripped you so hard.”

She didn't miss the implication that he was not sorry for trying to chase the memory away, but she nodded, rubbing her arms. The shudder that wracked through her body had nothing to do with the tender flesh, but a much deeper ache within her. Oh, how she wanted to believe in him, but the doubts…sex was for power. The only pleasure to be had was that of the control she held over the other player when the act was done.

“No, Gabby. That's not true,” he said, his voice hoarse and uneven.

“Isn't it?”

He shook his head, his eyes darkening to a smoldering brown as he leaned close, his calloused fingers so comparatively gentle to his last touch as he traced a path through the tears on her face. And great, now she was fucking crying.

“Gabby, none of them cared enough to make you feel the things that I'm going to make you feel.”

The quiet sincerity with which he spoke the words might have been enough to convince her to try, but it was nothing compared to the image he blasted her with next: him over her, his arms wrapped beneath her knees and his heated gaze locked with hers as he dragged his tongue across her clit, then dived in closer to suckle the juices dripping from her core. She knew it was just an image, a projected thought that he'd somehow managed to wrap up in a pretty bow of needy emotion and heady desire, but that didn't keep the gasp from escaping her lips, nor did it stop the tremble from skating along every neural pathway in her body until every inch of her skin tingled. Could it really be like that?

His eyes heated, his voice rough as gravel as he purred at her. “Yes, Gabby, it can be like that, but I'll only show you if you want me to.”

***

Valin knew the moment she made her decision. There was that slight firming of her jaw, then the endearingly familiar tip of her chin. The problem was he didn't know what her decision was…until she crossed her arms over her belly, grabbed the base of her tank top, and pulled it over her head. Next came the sports bra, then her pants, followed by the most mind-blowing scrap of fabric that surely couldn't technically be called underwear. Finally she was standing before him completely naked, her lush curves begging him for his touch: a goddess, made for sex. And his. All fucking his.

Stop
objectifying
her, you ass!

He swallowed, jerking his gaze up to her face, and realized how much ground he'd lost. He should have noticed the stiffness in her frame while he'd been ogling her body, but bonehead that he was, he hadn't. He could see it now, along with the deep furrow of doubt in her brow, and the etched lines of worry around her pinched lips.

Damn those bastards. He was going to find them and tear every one of their goddamn dicks off.

Her eyes widened.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, sure he'd kept the thought tight behind his shields. He did not need her thinking about Christos and his fucking lackeys again. Not now. Not ever.

“Hear what?”

He shook his head and blew out a long gust of air, centering himself. They weren't fully bonded yet. She was probably just reacting to his physical cues, which were all over the place. Confident seducer, to Pavlovian dog, to murderous bastard in five seconds flat.

“So, uh…” She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, her arms self-consciously rising to cover herself before she realized what she was doing and visibly forced them back down. He watched partly in amusement and partly with another emotion that he refused to give credence to as she raised her chin again, this time accompanying the movement with a cock of her hip and a hand planted upon it.

“So, uh, what?” he asked, trying to remembering what they'd been talking about before that little cold shower of a memory had fucked with their mojo.

She rolled her eyes, making a keep going motion with her hand as if to say
what's next.

Damn good question. He suspected this was a bit of a test. Not that he thought she realized she was giving him one, but he wasn't fool enough to not know when he was in uncharted waters…near deadly hidden reefs.

Gabby was part succubus, but unlike any succubus he'd ever known, he didn't kid himself into thinking that she liked sex. Her nature might make her able to get past the type of circumstances that she'd doubtlessly faced and come away unbroken, it probably even made her crave the act to some extent, but abuse was still abuse, and just that brief glimpse he'd seen a few minutes ago told him that at best she considered sex a tool to maintain some slim measure of power over her jailors.

She'd never had sex for the pure enjoyment of doing so. She'd never allowed herself to be swept away in the sensations. Never released herself to the emotions inherent of the act. Which meant that he was going to have to show her how, but to do that she had to be comfortable with him first.

He reached down, cupping his balls. Her gaze followed, her mouth parting in the perfect little
O
as he completed the motion by stroking his fisted hand from the base of his cock up over the tip. “Next
you
touch me.”

Her gaze snapped back up, one of her elegant eyebrows arched up. “I thought this was all about touching
me
.”

“Oh, no, Gabby. You got it all wrong. That's not what this is about.” He shifted closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her, close enough that it practically hurt not to drag her to him and devour. Instead he reached, placing his left hand on her right shoulder as if she were a skittish filly.

“Then what's it about?” she said, her words clipped, but he didn't miss the fact that she shuddered under his light tough…and that her gaze drifted down toward where his hand still cradled his cock. First victory. And hopefully many more to come.

“Oh Gabby, this is all about…” He stroked his cock while she watched, his other hand drifting inward across her collar bone, “…making sure…” continuing down the sweet valley between her rising and falling breasts, “…you come…” and ended with a caress of his thumb across her peaked nipple.

She gasped, her head falling back slightly as she arched into the sensation, as if begging for more. So he did it again, and had to release his cock to steady her when she weaved on her feet. Holy fuck, she was responsive. Because it was him? Or was that the succubus coming out to play?

Does
it
matter?

Hell no.

He bent down, taking the nipple he wasn't touching into his mouth and suckling. She was sweet and soft and oh so perfect, and when he stroked the peaked nub with his tongue and she gasped, that was perfect too.

Shifting his grip, he switched his attentions to the other breast, determined to give it equal attention. By the time he'd feasted his fill she was breathless, her chest rising and falling, her limbs trembling as she stared uncertainly at him.

So beautiful. His cock kicked against her thigh, reminding him that he was skipping a good portion of his plan.

“Touch me, Gabby.”

She sucked in a breath, going still. Determined to smooth over her uncertainty, he ran his hands down her sides, sliding them around to her ass and squeezing as he pressed his cock against the sweet softness at the juncture of her thighs. She gasped, her pelvis tipping toward him. He indulged himself by rubbing himself back and forth against her, coating his cock with the slick cream of her desire. Oh yeah, his Gabby was an inherently sexy creature—now if he could just convince her of it.

“Touch me,” he commanded again, fitting his hands back on her hip bones as he opened up the space between them.

She made a noise of protest, trying to arch toward him, but he held her firm. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. “You're a greedy bastard, aren't you?”

“Oh, yeah I am.” He leaned forward, claiming her lips in the gentlest of kisses, plying her lips as he spoke. “You make me throb with desire for you. I can't wait to be inside your sweet little body. I'm going to lap up every little moan you make. And then I'm going to hold you, watching your eyes go blank with mindless pleasure as you come.”

Her eyes heated and her hand closed over his cock, the heavy weight pulsing in her slim grip. He groaned, then growled as she drew her hand down over the tip, her thumb delicately circling the rigid head as she collected his slick juices.

“God, Gabby.”

“Like that?” she asked, spreading the juices down the length of his cock and fisting tight around the base. And that was too fucking good. No way would he last with her touching him. And since he had so much more planned…

“The bed,” he said, leading her with his weight in the required direction. She seemed more than happy to oblige, her hand tightening on his cock and pulling, as if it were she who led him. Perhaps it was, because when they finally made it around the various obstacles to the cot, it was he who found himself being pressed down on it, her sweet little body climbing over top of him. Knowing it was going to be the end of him if she tried to ride him this way, he gripped her hips, lifting her off so he could shift onto his knees and face her. Her eyes flashed, a determined set squaring her jaw as she tried to push him back down again.

He cupped her face, running his thumb over her full lips, enjoying how her eyes softened at the simple touch.

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