02 Blood Roses - Blackthorn (16 page)

‘If I was going to hand you over, I would have done.’

‘If you didn’t want to bargain – you said it yourself.’

‘No, I said I bought us some time. Which you should be grateful for.’ He braced his arms either side of her shoulders. ‘So why don’t you tell me the real reason why Feinith wants you alive?’

She looked deep into his eyes, her fingers brushing the edge of the book. ‘I told you why.’

‘She doesn’t abide by the Higher Order laws. Not when it comes to what she wants. And certainly not when it comes to me. She has slain females I have merely looked at the wrong way, yet she agreed to leaving you here. This is about more than playing games with me.’

‘I’m guessing you failed to get the answer out of her, so you expect to get it out of me?’

‘I have more ways and means with you.’

‘Easier, you mean.’

‘No, just more interesting. More enjoyable.’

Her stomach flipped. ‘So you enjoyed being with me,’ she said, despite knowing she was only opening up to more precarious banter – banter that had got her into enough trouble last time.

His smile was brief. ‘What is it that you’re most scared of, fledgling – becoming one of them or
is
it the pain of the bite?’

‘If I become one of them, the second is inevitable.’

‘Both of which you forgot long enough to give yourself to me.’

She slid the back of her fingers along the pages of the book. ‘So did you sleep with her too?’ Leila asked, unable to contain herself. ‘Before you came to try your luck with me?’

‘Why would I have sex with her when I’ve got you up here?’

Her heart skipped a beat. ‘That’s one hell of an assumption on your part.’

‘Is it?’

‘Why would I have any intention of sleeping with you, with everything I now know?’

‘Because it felt good.’

He leaned in, traced his kisses up her neck to behind her ear.

Kisses of a vampire dangerously in control.

Leila shivered, every tiny hair on the back of her neck and her arms prickling as he nipped her earlobe.

‘I thought that talent of yours made you immune to our charms,’ he whispered. ‘Not a little chink in that conviction is there, serryn?’

‘You seem to think so.’

Despite it wrenching at her stomach, she knew what she had to do. She had to get a grip and make the most of his distraction, his arrogance – the only chance she might get.

She turned her head further to the side to expose her neck, offering it to him.

She felt him pull back and their gazes locked.

She knew she was trembling but she couldn’t help it, just as she couldn’t help the surge of arousal that flooded through her. Making him hesitate, making him look at her with those deep, pensive eyes made her feel empowered.

He hadn’t expected that response and she wondered for a moment if it had been a mistake. She slipped her fingers into the book in preparation but instead of retracting as she thought he might, he leaned in again and licked slowly up the length of her artery.

She caught her breath as he lowered his body slightly to press his hardness tight against her groin.

Just as she had coaxed him, he was upping the ante and coaxing her – daring her to tempt him. His confidence was infuriating but dangerously exciting.

‘One bite, Caleb, that’s all it will take.’

‘Once more inside you could be all it takes,’ he whispered in her ear, making her stomach flip. ‘Right now, I’m willing to take the risk. Are you?’

❄ ❄ ❄

Both she and Feinith were hiding something, and being out in the cold was irritating. He needed to know what he was dealing with. He needed to know what he was up against. But forcing it out of her wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to make her tell him not through pain but by taking her to the point of not caring anymore, just like he had last time. He wanted to consume her that much. Right then and right there.

And he needed to get that close to her again. After the last time, he needed to prove he could enjoy her body without being tempted to bite. He needed to overcome the desire despite knowing that, if she was that powerful, he was contemplating suicide getting that close to her again.

But the rush was intense.

And never more so when she did the last thing he expected – when she turned her head to expose her neck to him.

He drew back slightly to study her eyes.

He couldn’t tell if the clever little witch was double bluffing him or trying to make him think twice, but it wasn’t going to work. If she wanted to play this way, he’d see what she had the confidence to do – what the serryn in her would compel her to do. How far she’d be willing to go before showing her true colours.

And as she reached out, slid her soft, warm hand down his neck and chest, he had the stirring feeling she might actually surprise him.

❄ ❄ ❄

She couldn’t believe she was doing it – playing along. But she wasn’t going to play the victim and she sure as hell wasn’t going to allow him to see her that way.

And she needed to be sure he was distracted enough. He was still watching every move she made and she needed those defences down. She needed to draw him in.

She didn’t have to be afraid. She had succeeded where many didn’t in that she could control it. She
would
control it. And as she slid her hand down that hard chest, she knew it wasn’t going to be unpleasurable. A part of her needed to do this. To touch him. To let that restrained part of her out. For just for a few moments she’d allow herself that.

Perilously moving her other hand from her concealed weapon, she used both hands to unfasten the buttons on his shirt, not daring to meet his gaze as he watched her in the silence. She could tell she had confused him and it spurned her on, button by button, until his shirt lay open.

He’d been right about the jealousy. Seeing Feinith run her hands over him had made her stomach clench in an alien and unpleasant way. She abhorred thoughts of what he’d done and abhorred the thought of him sleeping with that beautiful vampire just as much – the thought of Feinith doing what she didn’t have the courage to do; taking Caleb as her own; sharing those things with him.

But a part of her couldn’t deny wanted to claim that same ownership of Caleb.

She ran the flat of both her hands down that perfect, honed chest, her fingers playing hesitantly over every defined muscle, sliding them as low down his flat, hard stomach as she dared before slipping them back up over his pecs to his strong shoulders, his biceps that strained from his braced arms either side of her.

‘You can get yourself in a lot of trouble touching a vampire like that.’

She looked into his eyes albeit fleetingly. ‘I’m already in trouble, aren’t I?’

‘If you can’t finish what you’ve started, yes.’

She let her fingers slide back down again, lingering over his taut waist, itching to slide lower but uncertain she had that much confidence yet.

She knew what to do. She knew exactly what to do. Without qualm, she’d learned a lot of ways to satisfy the males in her life, to compensate for not being able to go that extra step. But with Caleb it felt different. With the others, she had felt in control. She’d felt safe.

She lingered over the tattoo she guessed was the one Feinith lay claim to. ‘Is this the one you had done for her?’

‘I did a lot of things for her.’

‘Were you together long?’

‘A few decades. On and off.’

‘While you were hunting? Is that how you and Feinith met?’

‘Yes.’

‘I thought the Higher Order are only supposed to mix with other Higher Order vampires.’

‘Feinith doesn’t care much for rules. Not if she’s able to keep it under cover. And neither do I.’

‘So your relationship was secret?’ She looked back up at him as her fingers dared to brush along the top of his low-slung jeans.

But he didn’t answer that one.

He was aroused. Glancing back down at his jeans was enough to tell her that. He almost looked distracted. Focused, lethal, perceptive Caleb seemed a little lost in the moment.

It was what she needed.

It was working.

She could do it. She had the power to get the control back.

❄ ❄ ❄

Her touch sparked something deep inside him and he didn’t know if it angered him or pleased him, but either way the raw sense to her touch excited him.

Of all the serryns he’d encountered, ironically this fledgling was the most lethal. Those fingers tracing uncertain paths were enrapturing. Her unpredictability enticing. The desire to show her how to please him was overwhelming, but he revelled in her finding her own way. She wasn’t just touching him; she was exploring him. And instead of feeling impatience, he simply watched her – her downturned eyes, the tremble in those long, delicate fingers he could imagine wrapping tightly around his already straining erection; those sensual lips wrapped around the tip, her tongue working him to climax before he thrust deep into the wet warmth of her mouth.

Unbuttoning his jeans would tell him just how far she was willing to go, just how deep into the game. Besides, the strain was uncomfortable, and he’d have to release himself no matter what.

As her fingers trailed along the top of his jeans, he lowered one of his hands from beside her head to unfasten them.

She still couldn’t look at him – that step in the level of intimacy too much.

Or she feared him seeing her deceit.

Right then, he didn’t care which it was. He was going to get her to hold him. He wanted, needed, to see what she’d do.

But the quiver in her breathing as he pulled his shorts down a little to half expose himself told him minor panic was setting in despite her arousal.

Taking her hand he guided it to him, and for a moment he saw she had closed her eyes. This wasn’t playing, she was genuinely nervous. He guided her fingers to wrap them around his length, placing his hand over the top to guide her pressure, nudged her thumb to the tip, guiding her to circle his circumcised head.

She kept her eyes shut, and from the tension in her free hand clenched at her side, he had absorbed her in the moment, could hear her breathing escalating in the silence of the room.

He gripped her hand tighter, guiding her to slide her hand along his length and she didn’t fight, she didn’t protest.

He released her hand to place his back beside her head, wanting her to go it alone.

He expected her to drop her hand away but she didn’t. Her grip loosened, she moved her thumb from his already seeping tip, but she didn’t withdraw. A second later, she tightened her grip again, ran her thumb under the ridge, sliding it up to the tip again and back down in a slow, sensual and exploratory act that made him scrape his fingers against the books. He lowered his head to hers, breathing in her scent mingling with that of his own building arousal.

❄ ❄ ❄

She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bring herself to look into those beautiful green eyes. She couldn’t afford to feel more of the stirring deep inside her. And she couldn’t handle the deception.

As the silence enveloped them, as she explored him in the most intimate way, she almost forgot what she was trying to do. It was about lowering his guard. It was about calling the shots. Instead she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. And certainly not when he lowered his lips enough to almost kiss her.

She turned her head away. She couldn’t allow that. She couldn’t allow herself to feel like that. But she did force herself to look at him, to see the thickness of desire in his eyes. And the fact that she had that effect stunned her.

‘A little close to the edge, don’t you think?’ she asked softly.

‘You’re the one who can’t reciprocate; you tell me.’

She squeezed him a little tighter, stupidly taunting him, his arousal inciting hers.

His eyes flared slightly but brimmed with something between amusement and a dangerously dark craving. ‘Don’t push your luck,’ he whispered in her ear.

She needed to get her head straight. She needed to focus. But instead the low and enticing challenge in his words had her struggling to keep her thoughts on track, plunging her deeper into the moment.

Because right then, she wanted to push it. She wanted to see what he’d do. She wanted to get him to that point. Damn it, she wanted to see and feel him come in her hand.

She leaned forward and kissed his chest, so invitingly laid bare to her. Kissed along the length of the scorpion’s tail that curled up around his neck as she picked up the pace and pressure of her hand. He tasted so cool, so refreshing beneath her lips. The temptation to lick him was overwhelming.

‘Maybe I want to,’ she whispered in his ear before nipping his lobe like he had with hers on more than one occasion. ‘Maybe I’m liking things near the edge.’

She kissed gently down his chest, lowering down the bookcase in an easy and surprisingly graceful slide considering how much her thighs trembled.

She had no idea where the courage came from but knew, in part, it was fuelled not only by a need for survival but by sheer unadulterated desire as she lowered her lips down onto him. The taste of him was divine, the silkiness of his skin beneath her tongue as enticing as the sheer masculine scent of him. It had never felt so easy or so natural as she swept her tongue slowly full circle around him as she simultaneously squeezed a little tighter.

She thought she heard him curse under his breath as he tensed. In turn, she opened her hand to lick down then back up the full length of his erection before tentatively taking him more fully in her mouth.

But as he entwined his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, as he tugged slightly to cause her a tiny amount of pain, she wondered if she had indeed taken that one step too far.

❄ ❄ ❄

It took everything not to force himself fully into the wet heat of her mouth. Those trembling lips encompassed him so provocatively, her slow, steady tongue dangerously lingering. She may have been anxious but her indulgence was painfully arousing. Tightening his grip on her hair, he clawed the books, pressed his forehead against them.

He could so easily make her take more of him, push deeper, stop holding back.