Supernatural Seduction (Book 2 of the Coffin Girls Series) (12 page)

Sylvain helped Sophie off the carpet.
“Shokrun, Khaleeb,” he thanked the man.

“
Afwan
. My pleasure,” the man stated,
and then disappeared into the castle. Sophie presumed that he went
back to whatever duties he occupied.

She cast her eyes towards Sylvain. Here was
yet another side to him; one that she should’ve guessed, but hadn’t
thought to. Then again, who would have been able to imagine this?
He should look oddly out of place with his fair skin and blonde
hair amongst these subjects, but he seemed as at ease (and
authoritative) here as he did in the bayou hollow. It made her
wonder who exactly he was. This line of thought was beginning to
agitate her, so she gave a mental shrug and resigned herself to
focus on the here and now and the amazing experiences being
afforded to her.

Once away from the eyes of his subjects,
Sylvain relaxed a bit more and turned towards her, smiling broadly.
“Are you ready for dinner?”

“After this,” Sophie waved a hand at their
surroundings, “I’m not sure what to expect, so lead the way Your
Majesty.”

Sylvain dipped his head and gave her bottom
lip a quick nibble. “You’ll pay for that later, Sophie. I promise,
ma chérie
.”

“I can’t wait,” Sophie replied, lips curved
in wicked contemplation. Sylvain chuckled and drew her close.

“We’re going to teleport,” he warned. “Hold
on.”

Before Sophie had a chance to catch her
breath, she found herself amidst a bustling crowd of vendors in
what appeared to be an open-aired food court. Well, I could learn
to live like this, she thought. She’d eaten many a poh boy walking
around The Quarter.

“We’re not eating here,” Sylvain smiled. “Not
the most romantic of settings.”

“Cher, nothing can top that flying carpet, so
I’m good with street food.”

“You need more romancing, Sophie,” Sylvain
smiled at her.

“Who am I to differ with such an authority on
the topic?” Sophie teased.

“Another thing you’ll have to pay for,
ma
chérie
,” Sylvain promised.

Sophie looked forward to these erotic
promises of retribution. Stifling a shiver of anticipation, she
followed him through a labyrinth of pathways, stalls, and crowds
only to stop at the entrance of what looked like a deserted
alley.

“The restaurant is through there,” Sylvain
led her towards a nondescript, closed door. There weren't any signs
of anything fantastic beyond it. In fact, the plain, blue door
could well have been that of someone’s home. Puzzled, but prepared
for absolutely anything at this point, she braced herself for
another surprise.

Nothing could have prepared her for the
relief the seductive, cozy setting provided after jostling through
the throngs of crowds and activity. The first thing that hit her
was the lack of noise. The room wasn’t quiet. As with any upmarket
restaurant, the clink of glasses and cutlery and soft chatter
prevailed. But it was a far cry from the throngs of crowds and
activity a few feet away from the secluded restaurant. While
Sylvain spoke to the maître dˈ, Sophie felt herself relax, lulled
by the soothing sounds of the Gnaoua guitarists. The room was small
and square with a ceiling that aimed to reach the skies. The décor
was rich--red, browns, gold, and creams combined with Moroccan
furnishings. The soft glow of countless candles and silk and velvet
scattered with rose petals completed the sexy, hedonistic ambience
that promised sensory engulfment.

The waiter led them to a table in one of the
alcoves lining the sides of the restaurant. Although the entrance
opened onto the rest of the restaurant, the alcove was partially
hidden by an elaborately carved archway around the entrance and
just big enough to seat two people comfortably.

The rest of the dinner was more predictable.
The lengthy, elaborate meal allowed for much conversation time.
Sophie discovered that the meal, diffa, was an inadequately short
word for a procession of rich, aromatic dishes and decadent deserts
that laced the tongue with culinary bliss. More satisfying than the
food, was the easy banter, and heady flirtation.

Sophie found herself relaxing and speaking of
growing up at the chateaux, later adapting to her new role as
vampire, and now her role as Coffin Girl and tutor for the girls.
Sylvain knew of the milestones, but not the details. The
light-hearted discussion was something she realized they both
needed, but for different reasons. Sophie couldn’t ascertain what
his motive was, but her gut told he it had to do with his sister,
and what had occurred in the past. Although she was dying to hear
more from him than the same level of detail her gave her, she knew
that she couldn’t, in all fairness, expect it. So, she listened to
his talk of the hollows, and of what it was like growing up as the
fae prince. It was, in essence, a first date like any other;
tentative, yet excitingly new.

After dinner, Sylvain led them to another
alley and yet another unmarked door.

“I don’t know if I can eat anymore,” Sophie
protested.

“Food is not what we’ll find here,
ma
chérie
,” Sylvain’s eyes glinted wickedly.

“Is this another one of your homes?” Sophie
asked, hesitant to step inside. A private space with this man
suddenly didn’t seem like such a good idea. She tugged her hand
from his grasp, but he merely reached out for it again and knocked
on the door.

“Relax,” he said, “it’s not what you expect.
I promise. You trust me, don’t you?” He asked, brows drawn together
quizzically.

“Sure,” Sophie nodded, “with my life.” But
not with my heart, she acknowledged silently.

“Well then, time for your next surprise,”
Sylvain said as he stepped through the now open door.

“We’re in a spa?!” Sophie asked. “I honestly
don’t know of any first dates where the guy takes the girl to the
spa. Not that I’m complaining..." she stopped herself before she
said something weird. Coffee back at my place - wasn’t that the
usual line? Or let me take you home and a kiss at the door or hot
sex against the door. She had never heard of ending a date at the
spa!

“Trust me,” was all he said, eyes
twinkling.

Sophie shook her head in derision. She had to
remind herself that Sylvain was not a regular guy and given his
take on a dinner date, this may not be a regular spa. “Okay,” she
agreed warily. “What are we doing here?”

“That would be telling,” Sylvain offered,
“and would spoil the surprise. Play along with me, Sophie?
Please?”

At her nod, he called one of the therapists'
forward who ushered Sophie into the lady’s change rooms. She placed
her clothes into the locker and slipped into a brand new spa
bikini, comfortable, oversized robe, and spa slippers. She would
not go nude. This looked more and more like a couple’s massage
treatment. If this was an old-school brothel, she would’ve had her
doubts, and scooted out of the place, but it looked, for all
intents and purposes, like a regular, high-end salon.

“Follow me, please,” a petite, Moroccan woman
requested when she exited the change rooms. She followed the
uniformed woman to a chamber sectioned off from the rest of the
salon. The word, ‘hydro’ brought relief. Okay, she thought, she
could do cheese. In fact, she looked forward to what was
undoubtedly champagne and strawberries in fragrantly warm, bubbling
water.

The therapist steered her away from the hot
tub though towards a room signed “Rasul.” Following instructions,
she hung her robe, stepped out of the slippers, and entered the
room through a frosted glass door. The therapist had since left,
and Sophie was alone in what must be the most decadent steam room,
she’d ever seen.

Steam clung to the atmosphere of the room,
making it comfortably hot. Music streamed in through hidden
speakers. In the middle of the room was a small, square plunge
pool, decorated in mosaic tiles and above them. The ceiling
mimicked the night’s sky where thousands of tiny lights twinkled in
a multitude of colors.

“What do you think?” Sylvain asked from
behind her. He’d stepped into the room and was wearing only the
baggy shorts that surfers wore. Her gaze raked over his chest
noting the long, lean torso, and rippling muscles as he moved
towards her. Her eyes moved up towards his broad shoulders and
strong neck. The enticing vein throbbing with his blood made her
fangs hurt and they dropped. Then she made another mistake and
looked at his face. The man was too good looking for his own good.
For a moment, she wondered why on earth she was there with him,
half-naked, and across the Atlantic.

“What is this?” she inquired.

“A rasul,” he replied. “Although not
Moroccan, this is the nicest one I’ve been too, and whenever I
visit this hollow, I try to find time to come here. It is relaxing,
although I don’t think I’ll be doing much relaxing after seeing you
like this.”

Sophie ignored the scorching touch of his
eyes as they swept over her body and thanked the Goddess that she’d
had the forethought to shave and have a pedicure done recently.
“Well it certainly is an original way to end a date.” Sophie tried
to detract from the predatory gleam in his eyes as he took her hand
and led them to the built-in marble seats.

“Who said anything about ending?” Sylvain
stated before he dropped his head and took her lips with his. The
room was hot, but her insides were hotter. He tasted of cumin,
mint, and the sexy thing that hot dreams were made of. She heard
herself moan and he used that opportunity to slip his tongue into
her mouth. Tongues battled, pulling, and sucking while their lips
locked together as though they wanted to breathe each other in.
Dieu
! This was heavenly.

Sylvain continued his oral assault while his
hands brought her forward until they were kissing, chest to chest,
her hardened nipples against his sculpted muscles. Darn, but if the
vibrations that rippled through his six-pack didn’t turn her on
even more. Involuntarily, she moved in and swung her arms around
his neck, lacing her fingers in his hair, and pulled him down to
her. She wanted to feel every inch of him, especially the hardness
growing against her belly. Sophie moved to straddle him, bringing
them even closer. Sylvain hissed as she began to move, grinding her
pelvis against his. Then everything went frantic. Pushed by the
unexpected force of their passion, she forgot everything, but his
hands gliding down her back and cupping her buttocks to bring her
further against him. The tranquil music permeating the room was
forgotten and replaced by her moans of pleasure. Putting everything
into the kiss, she drowned in it.

“I want you more right now than anything I
can remember,” Sylvain broke away from their kiss. “But, I did
promise you retribution for your earlier teasing and I’ve been
looking forward to claiming it.”

Her initial caution forgotten, Sophie lay
down on the warm marble in front of him. She did it slowly,
deliberately stoking the fiery passion evident all over him; from
his tense muscles, darkened eyes, to the erection searchingly
pushing against his shorts.

“The purpose of the rasul is to relax and
cleanse the mind and body. Part of the ritual is to lather yourself
with Dead Sea mud.”

“Okay,” Sophie responded, wondering where
this was going. She needed his hands on her and the talk was
frustrating the hell out of her. “Could we save the tutorial for
another day? I’m ready for my punishment.”

Sylvain chuckled at her glib eagerness.
“Giving into you would not be punishing would it?” He then got up
and brought over a bowl of mud. “Turn around,
ma chérie
,” he
requested, “then close your eyes and relax.”

Sophie did as asked and waited. Sylvain,
determined to tease her more than she did him, took his time to
apply the stuff. By then, she no longer cared if he wanted to cover
her in cream cheese. She just needed his hands on her.

He hovered over her and slowly moved her hair
aside. She groaned with ecstasy when she felt his lips against the
sides of her neck. Using them and his tongue, he created a trail
from one side, around the back of her neck to the other side. Then
nothing.

Sophie tried to turn her head to look up and
see what he was doing, but he stopped her. “Uh-uh,” he chastised.
“Be a good girl or it will get worse.”

Groaning in frustration, Sophie did as she
was told and yelped when she felt the warm mud being applied to her
neck where his lips had been only moments earlier. Sylvain
continued his assault, first using his lips, then tongue, only to
pull away and apply the mud with his hands as he moved down her
back. When he got to her bikini bottoms, she nearly cried in
protest when he moved over her buttocks, completely neglecting it.
She wanted him to rip them off and touch her. She wanted to feel
those strong hands cupping and squeezing her eager flesh. Only the
thought that he might tease her more forced her to remain silent.
By the time he’d finished her feet, she felt wired, and manic with
want.

But he stopped, continuing to tease her. “I
think you missed a spot,” Sophie tried for more.

Sylvain chuckled in appreciation. She felt
the heat radiating from his body and coming closer. He hadn’t
allowed her to turn he head so she couldn’t see where he was. “Turn
around,
ma chérie
,” he whispered into her ear. His hot
breath made her want to whimper. The huskiness of his voice gave
her a sense of satisfaction knowing that she wasn’t the only one
suffering.

When Sophie lay on her back against the
marble, he swore under his breath. Goddess, she was beautiful. Her
nipples were erect and wanting attention, pushed against the white
fabric of her bikini top. He swept his gaze down passed her
delectable belly button, tiny waist, and rested his eyes on where
he wanted to be most. Her bikini bottoms did not sufficiently hide
the delights he knew lay beneath them. Even if he couldn’t smell
the scent of her sex, he could see the white fabric sticking to the
moist, swollen flesh. He told his eager cock to stop twitching,
trying to get out.