Prince of Shadows (14 page)

“That's better.”

“What's better?” she asked a little breathlessly, he thought.

“Part of making you come is not rushing things, cookie.” Yeah, rushing was bad. Rushing meant he was as apt to lose his mind as make her lose hers. So he set out to seduce her using slow, featherlight caresses, gentle, teasing kisses.

The easier pace gave him the much-needed time to regroup. It also allowed him to truly tune back into her signals. She was still breathing hard and fast, despite the slower pace, and though, at first, he'd thought it was a measure of her own rising passion, he was beginning to seriously question his own reasoning. He was sure of it when she tried to press him down again, her eyes taking on a glint of determination that in no way matched the rapid thudding of her pulse.

She's trying to regain control.

He silently cursed, realizing he'd hit the nail on the head. She wasn't mindless with excitement, but trying to control her fear by controlling him. He understood her need, but fear had no place in their bed. Somehow he had to help her move beyond it.

“Lay down for me, Gabby. I'll stay here.”

Her mouth twisted into a forced pout, another bit of bravado. “Going to be kind of hard to fuck me if we're at opposite ends of the bed.”

He flinched at the crude word, not because he didn't use such words, and not because that wasn't exactly what he wanted to do to her, but because of what he suspected she meant by it. She'd stopped enjoying and fully expected this to only end one way: with him, the man, shooting his wad into a detached host.

Not fucking likely.

“Trust me, Gabby.” And really that was what this was all about. Trust. She wasn't going to be able to accept his gift of pleasure, wasn't going to be able to embrace his love, unless she trusted him first.

This
is
insane.
The thought came from her, and though he had to agree with her, he didn't like the fact that she'd been able to think it. But she did lay down, her brow arched in silent challenge.

“Do you ever masturbate?”

Her cheeks reddened, her gaze dropping down to his cock. “What does that—”

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, secretly pleased with her reaction. He'd bet his knife she did, and that she'd thought of him at least once while doing so.

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm a succubus, remember?”

As if that meant anything in the grand scheme of all the crap that had happened to her, but he took it as the confirmation he'd wanted anyway.

“Touch yourself for me,” he said, lowering his voice down to a husky whisper. “Show me what you like.”

He wouldn't have been surprised if she refused, knew that he was counting on her stubbornness to win out. Sure enough it did, but not until after a good minute of bated moments where he wondered if he'd misjudged.

In a move that was so erotic it made his balls ache, she lifted her hand to her mouth, drawing first her index, then her middle finger into her mouth and coating them with moisture.

It seemed to take her forever to run those same fingers down over her body, stopping for a time at each nipple, before finally delving down between her thighs. She started out slowly, her legs curled up protectively around her hand so all he could tell was that she seemed to like to use these small circular movements, presumably with her fingers on her clit.

He dragged his gaze back over her body. Oh yeah, she had definitely masturbated before. Now that her initial shock at the suggestion had faded, she was thoroughly getting into it: eyes closed, back arched, her nipples raised in sweet little nubs as her chest rose and fell, and her lower lip gripped lightly between her teeth to hold back the most intriguing sounds.

He watched her pleasure mounting until she moaned, her body curling and arching as the movement of her hand got quicker. Oh, fuck yeah, that was hot.

“Open wider, Gabby. I want to see.”

Her eyelids flicked open, her black pupils wide with arousal. She licked her swollen lips, swallowed, then took a deep breath and let her knees fall toward the bed.

It was his turn to close his eyes, for the sight of her, all flushed and swollen and slick beneath her hand, was surely enough to make him burst.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he said and forced his eyes open again. She hadn't moved but was watching him, her hand splayed tentatively over her center as if she wasn't sure what to do now.

“Keep going, please,” he said, settling one hand on her knee as if touching her on something so benign as her knee could ease the urge he had to fling himself over her and spear her with his cock.

She nodded, her fingers settling once more in that circular movement. At first he could tell she was uncertain of the exposure, her actions almost hesitant as she stroked her clit, but soon enough she lost her inhibitions, her pace climbing once more, her hips arching up against her hand as more of those delicious little noises rumbled in her throat.

He watched in fascination as her channel clenched, liquid weeping from the tight slit. “Are you going to come, Gabby?” he asked, surprised how hoarse he sounded.

She moaned, twisting her head back and forth on the pillow as she amped up the exquisite little circles she was making on her clit.

He couldn't help himself and slid the hand touching her knee down her inner thigh, intent on being part of it if she did find her release. Her eyes snapped open, her legs pulling together tightly. He stopped with his hand trapped midway down her thigh.

“Can't I touch you too?”

She sucked in a breath, her body quivering, heart racing, but then she let her legs drift back open. She didn't resume masturbating though; her delicate fingers held protectively still over her swollen clit.

He watched her carefully, measuring each movement of his hand against her reactions. There were no obvious rejections, and his fingers finally slid down over hers. He paused there, pressing gently with the same small circular motion that she had, and was rewarded when she licked her bottom lip, her fang catching slightly on the plump bit of flesh.

God, he could just imagine that hot little mouth around him. Just thinking of those full lips stretched thin to fit his width, that soft velvety tongue licking…even those sharp little fangs gently scrapping his iron-hard flesh made his cock dance in his lap.

Her eyes widened. There was a heart-stopping moment when he realized that he hadn't shielded that thought hard enough, but then the scent of her arousal feathered across his nostrils. Ah, fuck, she found the thought arousing. He was a goner—or at least his control was. Unable to help himself, he shifted his focus and gently pressed at the lips of her labia to expose the hot slickness of her core. Neither of them moved as he looked his fill.

“Beautiful.” He brought his gaze up to align with hers. “You're so hot.”

She shuddered, her breath releasing from her lungs as her eyes lowered in half-lidded surrender, and her hand fell away gently to her inner thigh.

Not
going
to
get
a
clearer
signal
than
that
there, Don Juan
.

Knowing it was now or never, he shifted between her legs, scooting around on the narrow mattress until he had perfect access to her most intimate places with both his mouth and hands.

He could all but feel the tension radiating off of her, but the moment his mouth touched, closing in the softest of kisses around that clit, all that tension exploded with a shudder of pleasure through her body that flowed right on through their link to his own.

Goddamn, if that was merely a precursor, she was going to kill him when she came.

He thought about rising up and taking her right then and there, counting on the fact that the bond was obviously growing, working, and that the feedback of his eagerness and pleasure would ensure her own, but he was too damn afraid to screw this up.

Any doubt that he hadn't made the right decision fled when he laid his mouth back down upon her for a second deeper kiss, and felt her hand tangle in the hair on top of his head.

<>

Her fingers clenched tighter in his hair in answer, her grip urging him closer as she moaned.

Nerves vibrating, he responded, giving her everything he had, kissing her softly, then slightly harder, even interspersing the lightest of suckles and nips. And she kept on driving him on; her sweet little moans, the fingers that tightened to the point of that good sort of pain as she pulled the hairs along his scalp. He needed her. But first he wanted to give her everything. Shaking, he shifted, dragging his tongue over the delicious sweetness of her core. Her entire body clenched, more juices coating her center.

“Perfect.” He swiped his index and middle fingers through the juices, pressing at the slit. She gasped as his fingers sank in, curling up to find that ultrasensitive spot just inside and behind her mons.

“Valin!” she cried, her hips bucking, her head flailing on the pillow as she sought for the next level.

“What, Gabby? What do you need?” He knew how close she was, could feel the rippling of her vagina walls.

“I don't…I can't…” She made a sound that could only be termed
frustration
, clenching her pelvic floor muscles, as if by doing so she could make herself come.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, pressing and stroking against the spot he knew would make her lose her mind—but only if she would let herself go.

“Yes, please, just…”

“Then come for me, Gabby,” he said and closed his mouth around her clit once more.

Valin lay with his head resting on Gabby's belly as she sprawled listlessly across the bed. Holy fuck, he hadn't realized experiencing his mate's orgasm across their bond could be so…real. And though it should have been enough to bask in that pleasure while watching her relax like this, her muscles lax with satiation, her breathing drifting closer and closer to sleep, Valin
was
a greedy bastard. He had to have it all.

She was his mate. And he would claim her. Besides, there was so much else he wanted to show her. So many fantasies he wanted to share. So many dreams. But first he had to make her his in the most primitive and basic way. His cock, inside her. He needed to fuck his mate. Now. Before the afterglow of her pleasure wore off and she started questioning and analyzing what they were doing. He needed her completely lost in the pleasure. Not fighting him for control.

Then after, he'd go out and hunt down every one of the fuckers who'd hurt her.

Pushing the vengeful thoughts away, he hauled himself up, shifting over her body. She roused enough effort to tip her face forward and blink at him, the question of what next there but not fully formed in her furrowed brow.

Caging her face between his arms, he locked gazes with her. “You are so sexy, Gabby. Taste yourself on me.”

Her eyes widened as he leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. He needn't have feared she was too listless or embarrassed to respond; the moment his tongue plunged past her lips and touched hers she moaned and linked her arms around his neck.

Schooling himself on the need for restraint, he concentrated on rebuilding her passion, his hands drifting over her skin with not-quite touches until her body was taut with that good sort of tension.

“Valin…” She arched under his teasing hand, her soft breast pressing against his calloused palm as her sharp little nails dug into the flesh of his shoulder.

His cock throbbed against her pelvis, juices slickening their touching skin. Fuck, it was too much.

“Gabby, please, I need to be inside you.”

She stilled beneath him, her pulse visibly fluttering at the base of her throat. Fear squeezed down on his rib cage. She was going to reject him. Worse, she wouldn't and he couldn't be what she needed.

She swallowed, her head dipping slightly then jutted back up in challenge. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“You have to open your legs for me.”

Color rushed to her cheeks, but she complied. Determined not to fuck this up, he reigned in his randy cock, shifting his weight onto his right forearm and his knees so he could slide his left hand down between her thighs. Her eyes widened, a little pant of pleasure heaving out from between her lips as his fingers slid inside of her, the heel of his palm rubbing gently across the tender nub of her pleasure.

More color flooded to her cheeks, spreading down over her neck and chest. She made the most delicious little noise from behind her clamped lips, her pelvis arching and rotating beneath his administrations. She was so hot and slick, her channel gripping his fingers like a fucking glove or something. He wanted to kiss her again, lap up the taste of her pleasure, but his weeping cock reminded him that there were other needs that had to be taken care of.

He pumped his fingers inside of her as far as he could, dragging the pad of his thumb across her clit. Her head drifted back, her eyes closing as she bit off another moan.

It was now or never.

He pulled his fingers from within her, pausing just long enough to lick the luscious juices off. Beneath him Gabby made a little whimper of frustration, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her as she arched her hips, as if seeking the lost sensations.

“Tease,” she murmured.

He chuckled and settled over her. He was so fucking close. Close enough that the tip of his cock burned from the heat of her vagina. But she wasn't quite ready.

“Gabby, look at me.”

“Oh, you're ready to do this now?” she said as her eyes opened lazily.

He ignored the jab, realizing the light banter was her way of dealing with the little twinges of doubt he still sensed she felt, and replied with all seriousness, “I can't wait to feel you come around my cock.”

Her pupils flashed crimson before banking to coal-like embers. A slick rush of heat coated her vagina, teasing the tip of his cock and inviting him inside. It was too much. And before he could tell himself not to, he was thrusting inside her, all the way to the hilt.

She gasped, her hands instinctively clasping onto his shoulders. The thought that he might have hurt her crossed his mind, but not until
after
he had already slipped back and thrust into her again.

Stupid, fucking, idiotic bastard. You trying to fuck this up?

“Oh, yes…” she moaned, her leg curling around his calf as she arched against him.

Only, maybe not.

Still a bit unsure, he pulled back, this time sliding back into her on one long, languid stroke. She shook her head, making a sound in her throat that distinctly sounded like objection, then confirmed it with her next words. “No, I need…don't let me think.”

Okay then. He resumed his intense pace, angling each heavy thrust to ensure that he'd stimulate that perfect spot he'd found along the front wall of her vagina as he slid in then out. Her eager response told him it was working and soon enough she was gasping beneath him, the slick walls of her channel clamping down on him like a vise.

Still she didn't come. And he wasn't going to last. Goddamn, he had to last.

“Come on, cookie. Let go,” he urged, balancing his weight on one arm so that the other was free to reach between them and stroke the sensitive nub of her clit.

She arched beneath him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she thrashed her head from side to side, and he could feel the grating rub of her frustration across their growing bond.

<>
She flashed him with an image of her riding astride him. He faltered, torn with the need to come after being blasted with the erotic thought and a sinking sensation in his gut. He knew why she wanted that. It was the whole control thing. If she was on top she wouldn't feel so vulnerable, so exposed. It about killed him that it was even an issue. He also worried that putting her completely in the driver seat would have her mind clicking into gear and ruin his chances of showing her how to accept the gift of pleasure. So he compromised—maybe they could both win this.

Sitting back on his heels he pulled her up with him until she was straddling his lap. Her eyes widened at the change of sensation, this angle and depth making it more about all the pleasurable little zones he could turn on rather than the overwhelming feeling of being possessed by one's lover. The Paladin instinct that demanded such caveman-like claiming grumbled a bit, but when he helped lift her, allowing her to wiggle back down on his cock just how she desired, the cave dweller settled back down, even purred. His mate was such a sexy little thing, and the wide-eyed look of astonishment she gave him as she wriggled up and down his shaft again? Fuck yeah.

Now if he could just hold out. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long. He felt the moment the orgasm took her, the shock of pleasure zapping like a bolt of static electricity between them. Her eyes widened in astonishment, but then she relaxed, arching up to take in more of the blissful sensations. He sucked in a breath, holding off his own orgasm as he watched her eyes drift close, then open, the black centers burning a smoldering crimson.

So fucking sexy. He couldn't resist thrusting into her, reveling at the tremor that rippled through her, though he tried hard to ignore his screaming balls. This wasn't over. Despite the fact that the pulsing grip of her vagina was beginning to ease, he sensed somehow there was something more, another level of pleasure that her body was striving to achieve. And given how elongated her fangs were…

“Do it.” He turned his head, wrapping a hand in her hair and pulling her toward him. She needed this—no, they both did. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed his blood to survive…and he fucking needed to give it to her. “Do it, Gabby. Bite me. I need to feel those pretty fangs under my skin.”

Just like she was already under it. God, he couldn't lose her now. She was like the air in his lungs, the fire in his bloodstream, the other half of his soul.

I
can't lose her. Not after all I've lost. Please, God. Let me be enough to save her.

Like a sweet answer to his prayer, he felt the sharp points of her fangs graze his skin. He tightened his hand on the back of her head, and a moment later she struck. He hissed at the sharp pain, but then the first pull of blood through the tight suction of her mouth had him exploding.

***

Christos squinted against the rising sun, his gaze honed in on the commotion down the street. Two blocks away he could just make out the figures scurrying to finish the last of the cleanup. Granted, there was no hiding that something had happened here—scorch marks were awfully hard to scrub away, even magically—but they were making a decent effort with the rest. And what a mess that was.

Ganelon thought him so stupid, an assumption Christos helped foster. But it was Ganelon who had lost this round. Evident by the three dead merkers currently being stuffed into black bags.

Christos knew what the problem was: Ganelon was risk averse. Oh, he might claim otherwise, but Christos had banked on the fact that under it all he hadn't changed. And typical of the general's MO, he'd delegated responsibility and sent his minions to sniff out the part-breeds, just like Christos had known he would when he mentioned the null. And what a great job those minions had done, too—until they died, of course. Definitely a bit of a kink in the Big General's plans. Not so much for Christos. Rather than waste his own resources, he'd simply kept track of Ganelon's merkers, figuring that eventually they'd uncover something interesting. And interesting is what they'd found.

His fingers ran across the dent in the rooftop door, his nostrils flaring as he drunk in the fading scent of magnolia, musk, and leather. Oh yes, that was his daughter's signature scent. And something…more.

There was no doubt in his mind that Gabby had been part of this fight. And if he was reading this right, the little bitch was shacking up with one of those Paladins too. He'd be pissed if it wasn't so rich. Gabby and a Paladin. And what seemed to be a rather impressive organization of part-breeds. All working together. Oh, the possibilities were endless. And if he did things right it would affirm his position at Lucifer's right hand.

All it would take was a plan.

His gaze settled on one of the soldiers. A tall but otherwise average looking youth of about twenty. Besides the fact that his gift barely pinged on Christos's radar, the way the youth hesitated before performing any given task said he was unsure of himself too, yet too self-conscious to ask for further direction. A quiet loner with no backbone. Oh yes, he'd be perfect for Christos's needs.

Christos smiled and stepped over to the edge of the roof. Day was breaking, and it was time to acquire some good help.