Fury of Seduction (Dragonfury Series #3) (32 page)

“Identical,” both said at the same time. With identical voices.

Yum. What fun. He hadn’t shagged a pair of twins in a while. Years, really. Identicals were hard to come by. And despite their low-energy status, he wanted each one. Would take them both multiple times. Wouldn’t stop until he pleased them so well the females forgot who they were, never mind where they lived.

Raising his glass, Nian tipped the rim in Rodin’s direction, thanking the bastard for his gift. The male grinned, then got back to being busy. Nian followed his example and, tangling his hand in one of the females’ hair, invaded her mouth. With a hum, he deepened the kiss, tasting her tongue as her sister unbuckled his belt. Shirt half-on and half-off now, he allowed the twins to pull him into the curtained alcove beside the door.

Three hours and a pair of blissed-out females later, Nian rolled off the daybed and onto his bare feet. Fun time was over. Not because he wanted it to be. He could go another hour or two, but the twins couldn’t. He’d worn them out.
Made them come so often and so hard, their bioenergy lagged, pulling them into a deep sleep.

God, he loved a good fuck. And the twins had been better than most.

Running his gaze over their naked bodies, he reached down and scooped a throw blanket off the floor. He tossed it over their sleeping forms to keep them warm and ensure their comfort. It was the least he could do. They’d fed him well, taking the edge off his hunger. Now his magic writhed, sharpening his focus.

Brushing aside the green-and-gold-tasseled curtains, he stepped out into the main room. Some males were still engaged, kissing each other, pleasuring yet another female. Most, however, sat propped up on plush daybeds, relaxed and comfortable, the frenzy sliding into the blissful aftermath of sexual release.

“Enjoy yourself?”

The voice came from his left. Conjuring his clothes, Nian glanced in that direction. Propped against a marble column, Rodin smirked, the predator in him banked but still burning beneath the surface.

“Twins,” Nian murmured, holding his nemesis’s gaze. “Good choice.”

“I know you like it hard-core.”

“Go hard or go home. Always the best policy.”

Rodin laughed, white teeth flashing against his olive complexion. “Next time, I’ll get you triplets.”

Next time.
A good sign. There would be other invitations. Time and plenty to slither under the older male’s guard.

Nian quirked a brow. “So...what now?”

“You always were a quick study,” Rodin said, tone full of appreciation.

“Old habits and all that.”

“You are smarter than your sire was, Nian.”

A true compliment, one he took as Rodin pushed away from the column. Slighter built and not as tall, the leader of the Archguard gazed up at him from a few feet away. He could almost see the wheels turning inside Rodin’s head. The bastard was assessing him, no doubt ticking off boxes inside his head, trying to decide whether he was worthy of joining his innermost circle of friends. Nian held the line, refusing to back down. Or abandon his plan. Everything hinged on gaining Rodin’s approval and trust.

And he was close. So very,
very
close.

He could feel the victory. It sizzled in the air as the silence expanded.

After what seemed like forever, but was only a few moments, Rodin huffed. A smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his elder rolled his shoulders beneath his tuxedo jacket and tilted his head toward the door. “Come with me. I wish to show you something.”

And just like that, Nian was in. Walking away from his old life to step into the new. All for the price of following Rodin down the deserted corridor. Quiet reigned in the house now, no more classical music or pulse-pounding rap. No more cries of ecstasy or growls of triumph. Just smooth-as-silk silence.

Taking him through a series of doorways and back halls, Rodin stopped in front of a section of wainscot paneling. The male’s magic flared, crackling around them an instant before the wall retreated and slid sideways, opening into a passageway beyond. Right on his host’s heels, Nian strode over the threshold and down a set of narrow steps. Gears
whirled into motion, the hum echoing in the small space as the false wall closed behind him.

His night vision sparked, orienting him. Smooth marble walls. Stained concrete floor. The smell of human blood.

Muffled shouts came through the thick stone walls. And Nian’s stomach clenched. He knew that sound and what it meant. Had been to enough illegal Dragonkind parties to recognize the signs. A fight club, one in which the males of his kind bet on their favorite human fighter.

None of whom were willing to fight at all.

Captured for this very purpose, the slaves had one chance at survival. Keep winning. Losing meant death, and not always a merciful one, either. Remain the victor eleven times in a row, however, and a human bought the right to ask for his freedom. Whether or not he gained it depended on his owner. Not everyone liked to cut a champion free.

An ancient way of being entertained. In the tradition of the Roman gladiators.

As disgusting now as it had been then.

Dread congealing in the pit of his stomach, Nian crossed into the club. He expected to see adult males. What he got was far worse. Children. The bastard was using boys as gladiators, forcing them to fight and spill each other’s blood. The pair fighting now, though, were Dragonkind. Orphans, no doubt, without sires to protect them...maybe ten years old, perhaps a year or two older. Knives raised, the two circled each other on the raised stage in the center of the room. Sitting as though watching a boxing match, some of the most powerful members of his kind shouted, egging the boys on.

Rage clouded his vision.

“Boys,” Rodin said. “Such a profitable business.”

The satisfaction in the bastard’s tone rolled over him. Nian’s hands curled into fists. Just once. He wanted to hit the sadistic asshole...just once. That’s all it would take to bash Rodin’s brains in. After that? He’d find shelter for the boys, mow down the rest of the sickos, then burn the pavilion to the ground.

But he couldn’t. Not tonight. His hands were tied. He was outnumbered thirty to one in Rodin’s territory. Here to gather intel and make inroads, not get himself killed. But as he watched the fight, the pressure built, turning his skull into a pressure cooker.

The sick son of a bitch. The spineless, perverted—

Rodin slapped him on the shoulder, acting like a friend. Nian swallowed a snarl.

The older male pointed to another door across the room. “But come,
zi kamir
. You may return here after and place a bet on a boy, if you choose. I have another event in mind for you.”

Another event? Something as sick as what he bore witness to here? Christ help him. He wasn’t going to make it. Would tear Rodin limb from limb before the night finished and he could escape the depravity.

Flat on her back beneath Mac, a death grip on the sheets, Tania moaned his name. Blind, deaf, and dumb, all she knew was Mac: his taste on her tongue, the skill of his hands, and the pleasure he gave her. Pushing her thighs wider, he slipped a second finger deep inside her, stretching her gently while his thumb...

Oh mercy. “Mac!”

Shoving her sweatshirt up with his free hand, he bared her breasts and dipped his head. The heat of his mouth scorched her. He suckled, and she gasped, hips rolling, head thrown back, body straining to reach the pinnacle. His low growl amped her up. His pace made her pant while he pushed her toward delight. Oh so good. And she was oh so close. A nanosecond away from implosion, but...

God. He wouldn’t let her. Kept her on the edge, backing off the second she threatened to go over. A breath away from orgasm, she begged him for release, her world narrowing to...just...one...thing. Him. His spicy scent on her skin. His delicious taste in her mouth. And his hands. Hmm, she loved the roughness of his calloused palms, the
gentle way he delivered each white-hot lash of pleasure. He was a wide-shouldered, hard-bodied dream, so skilled he made her burn with the need to have him deep inside her.

“Give it to me, honey.” He flicked over her nipple, then nipped at the tip. “Now, Tania.”

His tone brooked no argument. Tania obeyed and, riding the wave, exploded, a scream locked in her throat, tears rolling from the corners of her eyes. Mac kissed them away as she throbbed, clenching hard around him. He groaned in answer, cradling her close, feeding her more delight where an overload of ecstasy already existed.

Each breath coming on top of the next, she sobbed, coming a second time. And then again, each bliss-filled wave more intense than the last. Her hands knotted in his hair, she held on, taking all Mac gave while he stroked her into submission. Over and over until she sighed and went boneless in his arms. He brushed his mouth over hers. She accepted the gentle caress and listened to his voice, hung on each murmur as he talked to her. Called her beautiful. Told her she was special. Made her feel loved. Tania hummed, pleased with herself, but mostly with him. He was a force of nature. God’s gift to...

She frowned. No, not all
women
. To her. Mac belonged to her. And woe betide anyone who—

Wait a second. Back up a step. She needed an attitude readjustment.

Deep in the pleasure fog, Tania swam for the surface, one called sanity. ’Cause, yup. Staking a claim on him was a bad idea. And second on her do-
NOT
-do list? Become a jealous idiot, one ticked off by the thought of him with someone else. Nothing good would come from wandering into that mess. She needed to stay in the here and now
where serious took a backseat, leaving fun and mutual pleasure to ride shotgun.

Tania bit down on her bottom lip. Right?

Wrong
, a voice inside her insisted. Just one word. A single syllable. But the conviction behind it sent her reeling. Worry picked her up, spun her around, then flung her headlong into confusion. Her internal alarm system started to howl. Oh boy. Not good...at all. Somehow, in the last few hours, she’d become attached to Mac in a major way. She sensed her connection to him and knew...just
knew
...it wasn’t normal. How could it be? She didn’t know him all that well. Sure, she liked him. It was easy to do. But the need she felt for him surpassed sexual chemistry, rocketing her into compulsion. Left her wanting something she’d never had before...

Commitment.

Her throat clogged with panic. Forget the dragon stuff. Tania didn’t want a man of her own. She enjoyed her independence. Liked her job...was fulfilled and happy with her life. But even as she insisted, pushing the feminist agenda, a pang echoed inside her. The hollowness expanded and a lifetime of hurt slipped through her defenses, making her yearn for something more. Acceptance and love...common ground with a man she could trust to never betray her.

Oh dear. She’d outpaced crazy. Now she lived inside a world called Certifiable.

“Hey,” Mac murmured, slipping his hand from between her thighs. Tania mourned the loss of contact for a moment, then forced her eyes open. He met her gaze, his full of concern. Her heart flip-flopped, sending her into a messy emotional tailspin. God, what a man. After all he’d just given her, he was worried...about her. “You okay?”

“All good.” A lie. But it was the best Tania could do under the circumstances. She didn’t want to talk about what she felt or why. Not yet. Not until she figured out what it meant. So she deflected instead, diverting him with a compliment. “Holy jeez, Mac. You’re good at this.”

He grinned. “You have no idea.”

“Arrogant jerk,” she said, teasing him, loving every second of being in his arms. Umm, he was delicious. A sexual dominant with no off switch in sight. Perfect. Exactly what she needed to take her mind off her troubles while he had his way.

After all, what could it possibly hurt?

She enjoyed his brand of hard-core in bed. And the fact he could coax her into submission? Oh baby...not much better than that. So, yup. She was all in, past the point of no return with Mac in the driver’s seat.

Touching her fingertip to his bottom lip, she raised a brow. “You’ve had lots of practice, haven’t you?”

A wicked gleam in his eyes, he answered with action. Smoothing his hand over her hip, he tugged her waistband. She lifted her bum, willing to let him strip her. He didn’t hesitate, pulling the sweats down and off before tossing them over the side of the bed. Attacking her shirt next, he sent the hoodie to join its better half on the floor and...

Tania held her breath and stayed perfectly still. As his gaze skimmed over her, her heart picked up a beat, then another. Did he like what he saw? Most men did, even though they never got to touch. She’d kept them all at bay. Had never encouraged intimacy of any kind beyond her first experience or two. Why? Fear of losing herself, maybe. Lack of pleasure, certainly. But mostly? No one had ever made her feel the way Mac did.

Caressing her with a light touch, he trailed his fingers over her collarbone. Awe played in his expression, and his mouth parted on a rough exhale. “I love your body, Tania. You’re so soft and curvy. So sweet.”