Vampire Sheikh (7 page)

“Difficult morning?” she asked conversationally, determined not to rise to his bait. She refused to give him an excuse to impose his will on her.

“I've had better,” he said with a scowl. “I could use a good fuck.”

She lifted a brow, unoffended by his crudity. He liked to shock. She was used to it. “So much for your ritual purity.”

He flung himself down on the granite rim of the pool and lifted his soft brown boot onto it, leaning back on one elbow. His hair was mussed from the morning breeze, and his golden robes fell about him carelessly, making him look achingly sensual. Every inch the seductive demigod he was.

He regarded her. “What are you up to,
meruati?
”

Her pulse fluttered. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Josslyn Haliday has vanished.”

“Has she?”

“Do not pretend ignorance,” he said evenly. “Your so-called ride this morning, it didn't happen to have anything to do with her sudden disappearance, did it?”

“You think I've done away with the woman? So you can't have her? Really, Ray. I'm not that desperate.”

“Hardly. You've sent her to your donkey's ass of a brother, haven't you.” It wasn't a question.

She pressed her fingertips together. “Even if I have, and I'm not saying it's true, I don't see that it's any of your business. We have a deal. You have me. You leave her alone.”

“Ah, but I
don't
have you, do I?”

Her mouth dropped open as a tingle of alarm rushed through her. “You wouldn't
dare
go back on your oath to me, Haru-Re. Even a demigod must honor his word to a priestess.”

“Only if she has honored hers to him,” he said silkily.

She snapped her mouth shut. “Do not even go there, Ray.”

The corners of his lips curled up. “Actually, our deal was Seth's consort for mine. If he now has his bedmate in hand, and between his sheets, I want mine, too.”

“I've told you, the purification ritual—”

“Is bollocks and you know it. You're stalling and I want to know why.” He slid his boot from the pool's edge and lithely rose to stand in front of her, hands on hips. The air around him started to glow dimly. “It's not as
though you've ever refused to fuck me before. Therefore, there must be another reason. Tell me what it is.”

His huge body nearly blocked the sun completely. And yet it emitted a light all of its own. Her heart beat faster. Her traitorous nipples beaded. His power never failed to excite her. “You assume she'll just go along with what is asked of her. That she will simply say yes and fall into bed with him. She may not. She may despise my brother and refuse him.”

Ray waved a dismissive hand. “He is vampire. It will take him five minutes to have her begging to feel the thrust of his cock inside her.”

She regarded him coolly as an involuntary slam of hurt went through her chest. “Like all the women
you've
had begging for you?” she retorted.

His brows slowly knitted. A shadow of insight passed across his features. “Is that what this is about? You resenting the women I've fucked in the past? What, did you expect me to live like an aesthetic, chaste and pure until you deigned to come back to me?”

She'd had enough of this conversation. She stood. “I would never have come back to you,” she clipped out, and attempted to walk past him.

He blocked her path and seized her arms. The air crackled. He pulled her close, but she turned her head, refusing to look at him. She didn't want him to see the lie in her eyes.

He bent his head and skimmed his lips along the edge of her cheekbone. She could feel the sparks bounce off her skin. “If you wish to continue your infernal purity ritual, you had better pray to the gods that Josslyn Haliday
does
refuse your brother. Because if she goes to
him, if she binds with him as his consort, if she spreads her legs for him even once, I will know. And I will claim my rights with you, as well, my love.”

His fingers closed around her jaw and he forced her face around to look at him. The sky lit up. And then he kissed her.

His mouth covered hers, touching his tongue to the seam of her lips. Against her will they parted. She didn't know if he was bespelling her or if it was her own infernal weakness, her accursed inability to resist him. But the damage was swiftly done. The taste of him overwhelmed her senses. And her wits.

She moaned, and let herself be kissed. Allowed him to run his hands over her body and press his hardened cock against the inward curve of her belly.

“Nephtys,” he murmured, “it's torture having you so close but not in my bed.”

Her addiction for him roared through her in a firestorm of need, kindled by their erotic encounters over the past month. He knew
nothing
of torture.
She
was the one whose body craved him like a vicious drug.

“Come with me,” he urged her, starting to walk her backward toward the door to the palace. “Come to my rooms. Let me—”

“No!”

She wrenched her burning body away from him, shaking with the stinging need that coursed through her veins. A need she knew only he could satisfy.

“Nephtys—”

A need she must deny herself at all cost.

“No, Ray,” she repeated, her body trembling.

“When will you put an end to this foolishness?” he growled, his anger flaring to life with ribbons of flame around his head like a Medusa. Sparks rained down on them both. “You want me! You've already admitted it. Look at you! You're as needy as I!”

He was right, but she had to be strong.

“It doesn't matter.” Her heart beat out of control at her dared defiance. “My life and my body are my own to bestow as I see fit. You must respect my wishes.”

He glared down at her, his eyes the windows to a roiling cauldron of emotion. But he didn't shout. He didn't curse. Instead, he said darkly, “That works both ways,
meruati.
You would do well to remember that.”

She gazed up at him, struck by a brief shock of uncertainty. Was that…a glint of
hurt
in his eyes?

No, surely not. How could she possibly have the power to hurt a man with no heart? She couldn't. He was just feeling the pain of sexual frustration.

Wasn't he?

Whatever it was, he whirled and walked away.

Leaving her with the uneasy feeling that he had just let slip a shield that he hadn't meant to. And she'd glimpsed a hidden part of him that he'd never intended to reveal. A part that was vulnerable.

The question was, would she use her newfound knowledge against him?

Or would it only make her love him more…?

J
osslyn blew out a breath and smoothed her trembling hands down the front of the costume she'd been given to wear for her presentation to Seth-Aziz. As his human sacrifice.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

She tried not to think about it, but her heart was pounding like a bass drum.

After she'd given in to his notorious bargain, the vampire lord had taken one look at her and ordered two servants to “Clean her up, and bring her to me.” Then he'd turned on a heel and stalked off. After going a few dozen yards, he'd halted, turned again and swirled his hand at her, and suddenly two delicate silver cuffs were circling her wrists, attached by a length of fragile-looking silver chain. There were no clasps.

“Don't bother trying to escape,” he'd told her, “the chain is stronger than it looks.” He'd turned again and
continued down the soaring marble hallway, finally disappearing into the bowels of the palace.

Then Joss had been led away by two of the mysterious female attendants she'd heard someone call
shabtis.

As an archaeologist, Joss was very familiar with the term
shabti,
or
ushepti.
It was the word for those ubiquitous, pretty blue doll-like statuettes found by the dozen, hundreds or even thousands, in every ancient Egyptian tomb from Alexandria to Aswan. Their purpose was to serve the dead in every capacity imaginable in the afterlife. The two
shabtis
helping her bathe were most definitely real, live women, but they seemed as oblivious to the world around them as their ceramic sisters. As though they'd been drugged. Or hypnotized. Robbed of all personality. It was downright spooky. And heartbreaking.

Joss had been thoroughly washed, dried, oiled and perfumed and her face carefully made up with kohl, sparkling eye shadows and pounds of mascara that made her look like something straight out of
The Arabian Nights.
Then she was silently handed an outfit to wear.

By this point she'd been half expecting one of those typical bikini-top-and-see-through-skirt getups that belly dancers wear. But she'd been surprised—and completely mortified—when it turned out to be one of those long, skin-tight and totally see-through pleated-linen gowns seen gracing the women depicted in most ancient Egyptian art.

Good lord.

It was, admittedly, gorgeous; a beautiful shade of
shell-pink shot through with silver threads, shimmering with a sheen like the wings of a hummingbird.

It felt as fragile as a dress made of tissue paper and lay against her body like a gossamer glove. How would it ever hold up to the strong hands of a feeding vampire? She had the sinking feeling it wasn't meant to.

Like everything else she'd experienced today, the thin silver cuffs and delicate, ornate chain that still bound her wrists defied logic. Though solid to the touch, and unbreakable when she tried to snap the chain apart, other objects would melt right through it—the towel the
shabtis
dried her with, the fabric of her gown, even the
shabtis
themselves when they brushed her cleansed hair until it shone like spun gold.

What was the true purpose of the restraints, then? She was afraid to ask.

Finally she could drag her preparations out no longer. She was ready to be brought to Seth-Aziz.

It was time to be sacrificed.

Her heart thundered as she was led to the high priest's rooms. Her feet were bare, and the smooth, seamless marble floor felt cool and hard underfoot as she followed the two
shabtis
down a long, long corridor. Silver torch-sconces lit their path, illuminating soaring silver columns, elaborate carved reliefs, exquisite painted murals and luxurious tapestries on every wall. The collection of glass, precious-metal objects and statuary that decorated the niches along the way would have robbed her of breath at any other time.

The people she passed in the halls greeted her with formal bows and curtsies, as if she were some kind of royalty. She felt strange, and very exposed in the
insubstantial gown. But if they paid her outfit any mind, it was only to openly admire it, and her. Normally she would have been dying of embarrassment. But at the moment all she could think of was the coming ordeal.

And Seth-Aziz.

He was, she reluctantly acknowledged, the most dazzlingly sexy man she'd ever seen. His soaring, muscular body was worthy of a well-trained athlete, his coal-black hair the perfect length to be infinitely touchable. Even his stern, aristocratic features appealed to her, far more than any vapidly perfect movie idol had ever done.

But it was his black eyes that really got to her. Sharp and furious one moment, they could be sultry and provocative the next, drawing her in, making her want to drown in their enigmatic depths and unveil the mysteries behind those fathomless orbs.

They were on her now, those intense, watchful black eyes, as the
shabtis
ushered her through his nearly dark suite of rooms. Only a few scattered candles burned, casting eerie shadows on the walls and furniture as they lit a path through the darkness.

A few more glowed in the chamber where he awaited her. It was like a luxurious cave inside, a chiaroscuro of dark and darker, with just enough light for her to see where they'd taken her.

His bedroom.

Her heart stalled, then took off like a racehorse. The bed was huge and heavy, taking up the whole center of the room. Its intricate headboard was wrought of star-glittering silver, as so much of Khepesh seemed to be. The bed linens were of crimson-colored satin, and a
mound of pillows was scattered carelessly about, as if he'd just risen from a nap.

But Seth-Aziz was not in the bed.

Thank God.

He was reclining on a soft white, upholstered chaise, a silver goblet in his hand, his long legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles. His outfit was the same as he'd had on earlier. Well. Parts of it. He still wore the black breeches in the style of the desert nomad, along with a black, floor-length robe, or
bisht,
of the finest silk, that flowed off the white chaise like a black silk waterfall. But he'd taken off his tall black boots, and the black tunic he'd been wearing was gone, too, leaving his bare, olive-skinned chest framed like an exquisite work of art by the black edges of the
bisht.

As she drank in the sight of his body, he watched her expression with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

He was magnificent, and he knew it.

Nevertheless, she felt her nipples ruche and a warmth invade her belly. It had been a long time since she'd been with a man. And never, ever had she been with a man like Seth-Aziz.

Not that sex had been part of their bargain.
That
had never been mentioned.

Even so, there was an unmistakable, simmering charge of sexual expectation that permeated the air between them.

But for some reason Seth didn't seem happy about that. Or her. Or something. He looked positively fierce as his gaze glided down the length of her, taking in the gown and her body. Missing nothing in its slow descent.

She glanced nervously down at herself, her cheeks burning, wondering if he found fault with her. Suddenly it mattered. She wanted him to think her attractive. Though for the life of her she couldn't imagine why. The man was a
vampire.

Her hands started to tremble at the reminder. The links of the chain that bound her jingled softly. She couldn't make them stop.

Slowly he placed the goblet on a low table beside the chaise and rose to his feet.

God, he was tall. He towered over her.

He reached out and touched her hair, letting his fingers sift through the long, golden strands. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low.

His strange, otherworldly energy enveloped her, brushing over her skin, invading the hidden places of her body. She shivered in unbidden relief. She wanted to please him…

He came closer, taking her face in his hands, tipping it up to his. A ripple of power shivered through her where he touched. Desire reared up, hot and potent.

She put her hands to his chest. More electricity. Hotter desire.
And a frisson of terror.
She started to shake harder.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Terrified.”

“Good,” he said, and she gasped softly. “You would do well to fear me,” he said, his eyes drilling into hers. “Do not ever think to betray me, Josslyn Haliday, for it will go badly for you if you do.”

“I wouldn't,” she said unsteadily. “I won't.”

She couldn't look away. She was having a hard time
forming a coherent thought. The feel of his hands on her, and of hers on his chest, the accidental brushing of their lower bodies, the intensity in his gaze, were all scrambling her brain.

He compelled her head to one side, and his fingers scraped her hair back, exposing the side of her throat.

Her heart beat out of control. Was he going to bite her now? So soon?

She saw his nostrils flare, and he leaned in to put his lips to the side of her temple. Not in a kiss. Just a touch. Her skin sizzled with pleasure where his mouth grazed it. Her nipples hardened to tight pebbles. Wanting his mouth to touch her there, instead.

She stepped in closer, pillowing her body into his, sliding her hands around to his sides, feeling the hard, solid wall of him against her palms. The chain binding her wrists remained a cool, solid line between them. But that was the only thing about them that was cool. The rest of her was hot. And so was he. Scorching hot.

The long, thick length of his cock pressed into her belly. A breathy moan escaped her. God, she wanted him.

His lips moved down to the sensitive spot just below her ear. A sharp fang scraped erotically along her skin. She shivered violently as a jolt of sexual need rocked her clear to her toes.

His hands moved inward over her shoulders, his thumbs hooking in the neckline of her fragile gown. He slid them back again, pulling the neck of the gown farther and farther apart, until she heard a rip, and the delicate fabric tore down the center.

It ripped. And ripped. And ripped. Until the gown fell away and she was naked before him.

Her body throbbed with want.

“Seth-Aziz,” she whispered, pressing herself tighter against him.

She felt his desire in the quickness of his breath, the intensity of his touch, the lengthening and thickening of his cock. And the razor's edge of his fangs at her throat.

He murmured, “Josslyn, you must give me per mission.”

She couldn't stop now if she wanted to. It was like a compulsion within her, this raging desire she felt for him. She wanted to know what it was like to be taken by him. She wanted to know what it was like to be bitten by him.

“Yes,” she said. “I give it to you. I give myself to you, Seth-Aziz, in every way.”

She felt a low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest. His fingers dug painfully into her flesh. Sweeping her up into his arms, he strode the three steps to the bed. He lay her down, threw off his
bisht
and lowered himself on top of her. She spread her thighs to accept him, the smooth fabric of his trousers still coming frustratingly between them.

The silver chain jingled, then melted through his body as she put her arms around him. But suddenly it jerked, and pulled her arms up over her head, as though the links were attached to some invisible pulley on the headboard.

She gasped, struggling against its unrelenting pull.
“What are you doing?” she cried. A buzz of fear washed over her.

Followed closely by his hands. They blazed an electric path over her hips and along her ribs, sliding up and over her breasts. He touched her there, running his thumbs over the aching tips until they stood at painful attention. He pinched them, and she gasped again as her body bowed up in a deluge of pleasure.

“The hunger is strong,” he said, his voice rough with need. “And I want you helpless.”

A candle sputtered out.

“I don't like—”

“I don't care,” he cut her off gruffly. “This is my end of our bargain. And I want it like this.”

His mouth came down on her then, and all objections flew from her mind.

He tasted like sin. Dark, rich and velvety. Like her favorite sweet and her favorite memory all rolled together. She opened for him, and his tongue invaded her, seeking, laving, dueling with hers. An orgasm built and exploded in a shimmer of sensation before she knew what was happening.

Her cry of pleasure spurred him on. His kiss was as deep as the darkness he lived in. She tugged in frustration at her bonds, wanting to put her arms around him and pull him closer still.

He deepened the kiss even more. She felt a sudden prick on her tongue and sucked in a breath. A tinge of copper blossomed in her mouth. He growled low in his throat, and his body ground into hers.

A renewed craving swept through her. It was like she hadn't just come. Like she hadn't come in years. Her
thighs shook. Her lungs were breathless. She jerked at her chains, wanting to get to him.

More urgent now, he moved down her body, his tongue licking a trail of sizzling, shivering embers along her skin. He found her breast and his tongue circled the nipple, driving her mad with need. She arched up, thrusting the aching tip into his mouth. He bit down. His fangs sank into her flesh.

She screamed, detonating into another climax, this one bringing her up off the bed in a conflagration of pleasure.

She didn't think— She didn't know he'd—

Oh,
God!
Her body shook as he sucked her breast, the climax going on and on, bringing the chains taut as she strained against their hold. She could feel the slick smear of blood on his lips, but she didn't care.

She gave a groan as she came down from the peak. She wanted more.
More.

She felt him lift his head, but she didn't have the energy to open her eyes. She was exhausted, exhilarated.