Happy to Burn (Dark Desires) (3 page)

Screw the pictures.
I turned toward the door and ran from the studio just as tears began to scale my cheeks.

I slammed the door behind me.

“Fucking prick,” I muttered clutching my belongings to my chest and rushing into the ladies’ room in the lobby.

I dropped my things on the counter, clenched my fists to my side and closed my eyes, trying to contain my anger.

I could hear the bathroom doors rattle as my magic pulsed through the small room, see the lights flicker behind my eyelids.

I breathed deeply.

Calm down, Delilah. Channel your energy.
I chanted the two sentences to myself over and over again in my head until my magic faded and the rattling ceased.

I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror.

I quickly looked away, not liking the sight of my watery eyes and runny makeup.

I looked pathetic.

I was pathetic.
 

I’d been wanting Spencer for so long. I’d been trying to get him to loosen up around me and I thought this would work. I looked at my half-naked, disheveled appearance, then picked up my bra to begin dressing.

I steered my emotions away from the embarrassment I felt over the situation. I focused on trying to kill every ounce of feelings I had for Spencer.

I was a SpellBinder. I was a Silva and Silva women didn’t want men who didn’t want them. I’d be damned if I’d keep pining after Spencer, after being so thoroughly rejected.

This night marked the end of my little obsession. I was done.

The hurt at being rejected made that thought pretty damn easy to believe.

I was done chasing Spencer. He obviously wasn’t the guy I thought he was.

Heartless bastard.

Chapter 4:

Spencer

The thought wouldn’t leave my head.

Delilah and Samuel.
Her on her knees, on the floor, on the prop bed, wherever. Her doing to him what she’d done to me.

The thought had frozen all the pleasure out of the moment.

My lips crawled back over my fangs and I growled low and deep before I could stop myself. My vision turning red with anger, no longer the purple of NightDweller arousal.

Heartless bitch.
 

I plugged my camera into the computer with a huff.

What did it matter?
 

She was obviously just taking advantage of me.

Maybe she did that with all her photographers. Probably how she become the hottest model in Katharine.

Fucking her way to the top.
I growled at the thought.

I sat down at my desk and pulled up my email to distract myself.
 

I needed a distraction in order to calm down.

I triaged my messages for a few moments, not seeing any fires that needed to be put out then minizing my email in favor of surfing the internet for a little while.

My heart clenched.

My photo program was one window below my email and the heartless bitch appeared on the screen.

It was one of the test shots I’d taken while I adjusted my camera. She wasn’t watching me. She was sitting in the corner of the room, wearing a clingy red dress, unzipping her boots while she fiddled with her phone.
 

The next shot: her dark hair fell over her face, as she tugged at her shoes.

The next shot: she was looking up at me, slight smile on her face. The shot was a little blurry, but there was emotion in her eyes. It was as if she knew what I was thinking. Knew what I was imagining doing to her.

In the next one she was in black lace underwear on the white sheets.

She was on her hands and knees, in a cat-like position, her back arched.

I placed a hand gently on my leg. I could feel whatever progress I’d made toward normal blood flow to my brain retreat as I flipped through the pictures, but I kept flipping. Watching her arch and move and thrust her breasts into the air with each shot.

As much as I didn’t want anything to do with her, I had to admit she had amazing breasts. Amazing everything, really.

I bit down on my lip, letting my elongated fang pierce it, then licking away the blood.

The closeup shots were next. Delilah kneeled on the bed. Her tanned legs contrasting against the white sheets.

Our encounter was well-documented. I could still smell her in the room as I flipped through the photos.

Following a blurry shot of the top of Delilah’s head, was a top view of her face, shoulders and the swell of her naked breasts.

The shot that followed was of her delicate foot, the purple toenails pressed against the ridge in my boxers.

I gave up all pretense of rubbing my leg and put my hand on the area that was screaming for attention.

My cock throbbed in my jeans.

Next came a picture of her perfectly toned legs, one stretched out, towards me, the other bent at the knee against the edge of the bed. Then a shot of her leaning back onto her elbows against the white sheets her breasts in the air, her eyes watching the camera. Watching me. Staring at me. Her bright green eyes burning into me through the pictures.

As mad as I was with her, she still had my body on fire. I stroked myself through my jeans.
 

I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

I’d never believed the NightDweller rumor, the one that said we went full on incubus if we went too long without sex, or were aroused for a long period of time, but when a man’s arousal reached this point, he had two choices: finish the deed or fucking break something. A lot of somethings.

I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock free through the slit in my boxers. I didn’t have the patience to do more.

I gripped myself with one hand and flipped through the pictures with the other.

I came to a shot that made me shudder. It was slightly blurry, but I could clearly make out Delilah’s lips pursed around the head of my cock.

“Holy shit,” I groaned and stroked myself faster.

Chapter 5:

Delilah

“Holy shit,” I whispered cracking open the door. Spencer sat at his desk, his eyes watching his computer screen, his hand stroking his cock.

My mouth went dry.

I flicked my tongue out to moisten my lips. I could taste his arousal on the air.

I’d come back to the studio with the intention of demanding that he delete the photos we took, that and maybe fry his harddrive with a little SpellBinder mojo, but now I had other ideas.

He’d pulled his shirt up beneath his underarms, exposing the ridges of his lean stomach. His hand stroking his thick cock.

I swallowed hard and stepped slowly into the room.

Spencer groaned and I could hear him clicking on the computer.

My hand fluttered to my breasts. My skin growing taut beneath the fabric of my dress. The tingle of unreleased arousal mixing with unreleased magic.

I watching him lean back on his stool, his neck arching back in pleasure. I stepped closer and a floorboard creaked beneath my boots.

Spencer’s head whipped in my direction, his eyes landing on me. Full on purple.

His breathing was labored. His mouth hung open. His fangs as erect as his dick.
 

I knew it was crazy, but I wanted those fangs on me. In me.
 

His hand stilled. And he closed his lips over his teeth.

I cleared my throat. “Don’t,” I said stepping forward again.
 
The air was thick with his sweat, arousal and anger. I could feel myself responding to him. Blooming with my own arousal and fear. I was dancing around the lion’s den and I knew it.

But he was one damn beautiful lion.

His jaw clenched tighter around his fangs, but he didn’t speak as I walked closer. I put my bag down beside his desk as he tried to stuff himself back into his pants.

“Don’t,” I said again, putting one hand on his knee. The smallest hint of magic slipped from my fingertips, leaving them warm and tingling, a feeling I knew I’d transfered to his knee.

“Don’t what, Delilah?” he responded, his voice gravely. He jerked his knee from my grasp, but not before I saw his cock jerk at my touch.

He looked down at his knee briefly, then narrowed suspicious purple eyes at me.

I looked down to avoid his gaze. I wondered if he knew what I was. My eyes flicked to the bulge sloppily stuffed into his pants
 

I didn’t give a shit if he knew or not. I wanted him, despite the danger.

I took my time bringing my eyes back to his face, enjoying the sight of the moisture on his stomach and the line of sweat leading down to his navel.

“You’re so beautiful, Spencer,” I whispered putting my hand back on his knee and the other on his neck, my thumb stroking his face, my fingers slipping into his hair. I let the magic seep from my finger tips, letting my emotions drip out. Hoping to entice him. “Please, don’t stop, Spencer.”

I leaned in closer to him and slid my hand up his thigh to his cock.

I felt the breath leave his chest at my touch, but his hand clamped down on top of mine, stilling me from my purpose.

I let more magic slip through. He was a NightDweller, so I didn’t know if he was immune to my SpellBinder charms.
 

He stiffened, and not in the way I wanted, before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath then swallowing so hard I could hear it.

Before I could move, or even register it, his large hand wrapped threateningly around my neck.

His face was inches from mine. Eyes more red than purple. Fangs bared on a low snarl.

“What are you?” he hissed. His voice was dangerously low. He wasn’t applying that much pressure to my neck, but I knew better than to give him the chance to rip my head off by resisting.

“I—” I closed my mouth and tried to swallow beneath his grasp. “What do you mean?” My hand remained on his neck and I pushed a whole lot of “calm the fuck down” into my fingertips and hoped it would keep him from going berserk.

He bared his teeth again. This time rising from his stool and pressing threatening at my throat, his grip lifting me to my tip toes. “Don’t play, Delilah.” He shook me with his other hand hard and raised me higher into the air. His eyes were full on red now and my SpellBinder instincts were shifting into defense mode.“What the fuck are you?” he repeated.

I closed my eyes, breathed deeply and summoned my inner witch, because this was about to get ugly.

Chapter 6:

Spencer

I stumbled back, falling onto my stool as a force hit me hard in the chest.

Delilah, whatever she was, didn’t fall back to the ground once I let go on my hold of her neck. She floated.

“What the fuck are
you
—” she cocked her head to side as her feet gently touched down to the ground. “—Spencer?” Her eyes flashed a brilliant green. Brighter than I’d ever seen them before.

I growled involuntarily at the alien move, than tried to lunge at her. She flicked her wrist and I couldn’t move from my seat. The more I struggled, the more constrained I felt.

Fuckin’ witch slut.
I thought the offensive epithet.

“SpellBinder,” I spat.

She smiled slowly, walking towards me. Her fingers brushed my knee, the warmth of the magic seeping through, and making me squirm. “At—” Her hand came up to my thigh. “Your—” Her finger dipped down to my inner thigh and rose higher. “Service,” She whispered in my ear as she traced her hand over my cock, which was now growing erect at her touch.

I couldn't move. She had me trapped in some weird SpellBinder mojo.

My chest pumped like bellows with anger.

She stepped in between my legs pushing her breasts against my chest before her tongue flicked out and licked my ear. Then she bit me and I groaned. My cock itched to be touched and my traitorous hand reached up and traced over her bottom in her red dress.

She flinched at my touch, surprise washing over her.

I tried to reach for her throat with my other hand, but it wouldn't move. I struggled and growled again.

She pulled back and smiled at me.

“The spell won’t let you hurt me, Spencer.” She arched back her ass pressing hard against my palm that rested there. “It’s specifically designed just for pleasure.”
 

She was obviously a powerful Spellbinder. A fact that seemed to turn me on as I couldn't stop my hand from squeezing her ass.

I was pissed as hell, but I couldn’t help enjoying the look of pleasure on her face.

I watched her for a moment, breathing deeply. Trying to calm down. Relaxing under the influence of her spell.

I couldn’t believe Delilah was a fucking SpellBinder.

I couldn’t believe she was doing this, with me of all people.

“You know what I am?” I said simply. I looked up at her. I deliberately let my fangs show.

She sighed and took a step back. “Yes,” she said, then as if she thought more seriously about my species, took another step back.

I sat up straight watching her. Then, to test her spell, made a mock lunge towards her.
 

She glided back, floating unnaturally.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Delilah,” I said.

“You say that now, NightDweller,” she said pointedly rubbing her neck.

My eyes flicked to her neck. “Sorry,” I forced out. I licked my lips because my mouth was watering at the sight of her neck, and the sound of her elevated pulse.

“You don’t sound sorry,” she said taking a tentative step forward.

“Don’t I?” My eyes dropped to her breasts.
 

I should leave. I should walk out.
This is not a good idea.

“Not at all,” she said stepping in front of me again. Her voice was breathy.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. This was dangerous. Stupid.

“Hmmm?” she said slipping her hand back into my hair. I swallowed hard trying to resist putting my hands on her again.

She leaned into me and I let my face drop to her chest. I traced my tongue, then a fang, over the edge where her breasts met the fabric of her dress.

This was fucking stupid, but I couldn’t stop myself. I guess now I knew why our races stayed away from each other.