The Invitation (3 page)

When his teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, she finally cried out his name. Practically sobbed it.

She ached. Yearned. Her panties were soaked and he’d barely even started to touch her. He was devouring her. She might not survive.

He transferred his attention to the other nipple. Evie tugged firmly on his hair, trying to anchor herself to the moment lest she be consumed.

“Please, Gabriel. Stop torturing me. I can’t wait.”

“Torture? If I were going to torture you, love, I’d have bound your wrists and feasted on your pussy.”

Her bones melted.

“But I’m impatient tonight. You shall have your wish.”

He stripped off the rest of her clothes and kissed the curves of her body. Her navel. Her hip bones. The backs of her thighs. Her feet. He rose and she watched, fascinated, as he removed his clothing, piece by piece, in devastating slow motion.

She wished she could strip him, remove his clothes and worship him as he had worshipped her.

She could wait. She hoped there would be other nights for her to indulge that desire. Right now she needed to focus on the man before her.

His body was a pure work of art, all rigid planes and muscle yet graceful and lithe. His long cock jutted from a smattering of dark curls. The bulbous purple head glistened as he spilled pre-cum.

His arousal excited her. She needed him inside her. Filling her. Completing her. She wouldn’t survive unless he fucked her.

As if reading her thoughts, he moved his powerful body over hers. They fit together perfectly. She cradled his hips between her thighs. His eyes smoldered. His lips were a dangerous weapon, breaching her well-erected defenses, and he used them with dazzling effect.

She locked her thighs around his legs. Her pussy came into contact with his cock and the head brushed against her wet curls. He groaned and she smiled. A ripple of feminine pride warmed her belly. She might not be from his world but it was mind-blowing to know she turned him on.

“Fuck me, Gabriel. Long and hard. Make me yours.” She didn’t know why she said the last part. It just felt right.

He pushed against her. His length teased her clit, causing friction before gliding down her slick folds. Her thighs were sticky with her juices and still he continued to tease, bringing her to the edge before dragging her away from release.

Finally, when she was sure she would burst, he pushed inside her core. Her walls stretched to accommodate him. There was no pain despite his impressive size. He filled her. She was stuffed. Stretched to capacity.

Rapture covered his face. “We fit together.” He kissed her with hunger and thrust in and out.

As Gabriel pulled back, Evie moved forward. They flowed together, stoking the fire inside them. His cock caressed her deep inside, stroked over her G-spot and made her gasp.

“It’s never…been like this…before,” she managed to choke out as he nibbled her collarbone.

“You’re mine. All mine. Only I can give you what you need.”

He quickened his strokes. He fucked her faster and faster like a whirlwind of passion and fire, pouring all that into her and more. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to reach the pinnacle, to ease the delicious pressure burning between her thighs.

“Come for me, Evie. Give yourself to me. Come.” He grunted the words in her ear.

As his body became taut as a bow string, she came on a wave of pure bliss. Stars exploded behind her eyes. Her walls contracted violently around his cock, forcing hot jets of cum to splash inside her. She screamed his name, clawed at his skin and gave herself over to the intense pulses of pleasure.

She felt him in her mind as if they were connected. She experienced his joy, his happiness, his pain at what tonight would hold. His feelings for her shone like a beacon. It stole her breath. Then it was gone.

She panted and wrapped herself around him, cradling him.
What was that?

As her breathing returned to normal, she stroked his back.

“I love you, Evelyn.”

She tightened her grip. After what she’d seen she knew his words were true. She didn’t want to examine it. For now she was content in his arms. For now, hearing it from his lips was the best Christmas gift she could have hoped for.

She lay naked, sated and content in his arms. He stroked the nape of her neck, a tender lover’s caress. Gabriel loved her. Butterflies danced in her stomach. She wanted to believe it but could it really be true? They didn’t even know each other.

She’d been in love with the fantasy of him for years. Tonight cemented her feelings in reality. She shouldn’t be so sure. No one could be in love after one round of sex. Mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex, but still just sex.

It was stupid. Irrational. Yet her heart belonged to him.

“You’ve dreamed of me for years.” A statement, not a question.

She toyed with the damp strands of his hair. “Really? And how do you now I’ve dreamed of you?”

“It’s the truth.”

The aftermath of good sex made her slow to respond. Her body hummed and purred. She laughed and kissed his forehead. “How do you know that?”

“Because I’m not human.”

She froze. Tendrils of panic pushed at her contentment.

Not human? Surely this was some kind of weird role-playing, like the bowing and the masquerade.

She rolled away and stared directly at him, looking for any indication he was high. No dilated pupils. No jerky movements.

You knew there wouldn’t be. You’ve wondered about him for years. Why he’s only seen at Christmas. Why he doesn’t age.

She bitch-slapped her inner voice into silence and said, “Say that again.”

“I’m not human.”

Evie did the only thing that would keep her sane—she laughed. He sat up and fumbled in the pocket of his discarded breeches. Curious, she watched as he drew out a small glass ornament.

“Watch.” He held it between his thumb and forefinger before raising it to the glow of the fire. Light reflected off the orb, projecting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the hearth. It wasn’t glass. More like crystal or diamond.

Mist swirled inside the orb. It was beautiful. Magical. Just like its owner.

She saw complete focus on Gabriel’s face. Complete conviction, obvious by the grim set of his jaw. His eyes became opaque and misted like the inside of the orb.

Oh my god.
Dread filled her. Gooseflesh dimpled her skin.

He gently gripped her chin and raised the orb into her line of sight. “Watch, Evie.”

It began to glow. The mist swirled and danced. It came alive.

She took a sharp breath and wanted to draw back from the figures that appeared like holograms inside the orb. She couldn’t move. She was mesmerized by the crystal.

Her breath hitched as a fairytale scene played out before her. In the whirling mist she saw a medieval-style castle. People laughed and played. There was a spectacular waterfall, lush greenery. It was paradise.

It shifted, blended into an opulent throne room similar to the one in Gabriel’s mansion. He sat on a gilded throne surrounded by courtiers. Each jostled for favor, each brought plush gifts. Gabriel seemed distracted, sad even. It looked like a scene from one of her books.

How was he doing this?

She tried to trace the scene. As she reached, the image disappeared and the orb darkened. She snatched her hand back and raised an eyebrow. “Neat trick.” Her steady voice didn’t betray her trembling nerves.

Tilting his head to the side, Gabriel lowered the crystal and raked his hair. “You think this is merely a trick?”

“What else could it be?” she asked. She dared not acknowledge the truth beating at the back of her mind.

Gabriel sighed. He looked weary. His skin was sallow and tired—even the embers of firelight didn’t illuminate his color. His shoulders stooped. He was still naked. “This is a doorway to another world. My world. The world in which I live. The world you have dreamed about.”

Hysteria crept in. “You’re nuts.”

He rose to his feet and padded over to one of the sideboards. As he bent over and his ass cheeks tightened, Evie suppressed a moan. Her clit pulsed. Moisture coated her already soaked nether lips. Her body ripened for sex. He might be crazy but he still drove her insane with need.

Gabriel took out a dagger from a display case.

Her ardor died as if someone had thrown a bucket of freezing water over her. Panic bubbled. She tasted bile in the back of her throat. Was he going to murder her for not believing him? Was he some mass-murdering psycho?

“Gabriel…”

As he moved forward, she scooted back along the floor. She grabbed her clothes and held them against her chest. She needed to run, get back to the crowd of people. Surely he wouldn’t do anything in front of all those guests.

She climbed to her knees. Before she could get up and run for the door, he knelt down. The fire crackled and cast an eerie glow over the blade. She edged back again.

She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. She couldn’t explain how she knew. It was completely irrational, especially since he was kneeling on the floor before her holding a very sharp knife. “Gabriel, what are you doing?”

He lifted the dagger and placed the tip over his heart. It puckered the skin, making an indent in the flesh. He forced her fingers around the hilt, securing them with his own. He glared at her.

A tiny bead of blood ran down his chest as the pressure pierced him.

She blinked back tears and shook her head. “No. Gabriel. No. Please don’t do this.”

“I need you to understand.” His grip tightened around hers and he plunged the dagger into his heart.

“No!” she screamed with desperation.

She fought with every ounce of strength she had and managed to free her hand. Any minute now his blood would gush onto her.

As she stumbled back, she gulped in gasps of air. She couldn’t breathe. Terror constricted her airways. She couldn’t think straight. Why would he do this? They’d only just found each other. Why was this happening? Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Gabriel reached for the dagger and she squealed.

“Don’t! For god’s sake, don’t take it out. We need to get you to the hospital.”

Instead of agreeing with her, he shook his head. He continued to watch her in his calm manner. No pain or fear clouded his features.

Frantic emotions whirled through her. Why wasn’t he in pain? Why wasn’t he bleeding? Maybe the blade had plugged the flow.

Gabriel didn’t heed her warning. He pulled the blade from his heart.

“No.”

The sucking sound of wet flesh made nausea churn her stomach. She heaved and waited for the thick gush of arterial blood.

It didn’t come. Apart from a few droplets, he did not bleed.

Amazing. Impossible.

She watched as the wound healed. The skin miraculously knitted back together.

Evie wasn’t one of those women who swooned or fainted at the sight of something out of the ordinary but she was damn sure this was a fainting moment. She felt giddy and lightheaded. Hot and cold at the same time.

She swallowed back the bile and blinked. She’d be okay if the world stopped spinning.

He did not bleed.

Not human.

Memories of Gabriel flashed through her mind. Christmas upon Christmas, he looked the same. He didn’t age, apart from a few crinkles around his eyes. How had she not realized? How did the world not notice?

“I am the Shadow king. I rule the realm between Heaven and Hell and I have wandered this earth for centuries waiting for you.”

His words sucker-punched her in the gut. She’d always thought there was something otherworldly about the way he moved.

No, it couldn’t be true. He was delusional. Maybe she’d been hit over the head and this was all a weird, fucked-up dream. Maybe he’d drugged her. It couldn’t be real.

Everything you can imagine is real.

“Oh god.” She scrubbed her hands over her face.

He hadn’t aged in twenty years. He was rarely seen except for at the annual Christmas ball. He didn’t bleed.

She rubbed her chest. “How is this possible? You…you felt so real. You were inside me. I felt you inside me.” She reached out to touch him and stopped herself.

A raging headache increased the pressure in her temples as she tried to come to terms with his revelation.

You knew. You’ve always known.

Had she? Of course she’d known. She’d dreamed about it, wrote novels about a golden court in purgatory overseen by a handsome king searching for his mate.

He stroked her shoulder and desire cut through the fear. Even terrified, her body reacted, demanding attention. She craved him.

“I can take corporeal form on one night of the year. On this night I am allowed to search for my consort, for the one woman who completes me. I have searched for many long years, Evie. You are the other half of my soul.”

“How do you know?”

“Your soul sings to mine.” He smoothed a stray tendril of her hair and her nipples beaded. “Your body knows my touch. Search your heart, Evie. We are destined.”

She wanted to lean into him and feel his heat. She wanted to feel his presence surround her, engulf her. But uncertainty fired her nerve endings. She was sick to her stomach. How could she be a consort? She wasn’t born into his society. She didn’t know how to act around American socialites, let alone a magical court.

The weight of his revelation weighed on her.

She gathered her scattered clothes. “I need some space.”

Hurt burned in his eyes, sending shards of pain through her heart.

How was she supposed to react when the man of her dreams told her he was a ghost?

The steely silence lengthened as she dressed. Aware that he watched her every move, a little embarrassed, she turned her back to him and tried to salvage some modesty.

When she finished dressing, Evie faced him. He stood rigid as stone. “Gabriel…”

“You have until midnight, Evelyn Ward.” His curt, dismissive tone brought tears to her eyes.

She nodded and left the library. She closed the door behind her and leaned back against the solid wood. Pain whipped around her heart, turned her insides to mush. Usually, after spying on Gabriel, she’d spend Christmas Eve listening to carols, drinking mulled wine and sitting by a crackling fire.

Tonight she was faced with the most important decision of her life.

Magical realms were real. The things she wrote about had always seemed so lifelike, it scared her. At times she’d thought herself crazy. As a child her parents had taken her to a psychologist. They were worried she was delusional.

All her vivid dreams were reality. It made sense now.

Moments like this never happened to her. Defining moments. When in the blink of an eye you had to decide whether or not to take a leap of faith into the unknown.

Oh god.
How could she make that decision? It was fantastical. Downright absurd. She couldn’t even decide what to have for dinner most days.

What was his world like? Would she be able to see her family and friends? Was it a harsh place? What if Gabriel was wrong? What if they weren’t compatible? Would she be stuck there in this Shadow realm?

Air. She needed some air. To clear her head.

She hurried back to the throne room and pushed through the laughing crowds. She spied a set of partially open French doors and bolted toward them, thankful for an escape route.

Once outside she ran down the steps, moving farther away from the house. The crisp night air felt good against her heated skin. The noise from the ball faded and she was left with the pounding in her head.

Gabriel Longthorn was King of Shadows. An immortal searching for a consort. Her.

“Fuck.” She bent forward and put her head between her thighs. She wasn’t going to throw up. She needed to think.

She’d always been different. Apart, as if she didn’t really belong. As though something was missing. Part of the reason she’d become a writer was to connect with the world. The only time she’d truly felt at peace was with Gabriel buried inside her. All the doubts had stopped. She had come alive.

King of Shadows.
It sounded horrifying yet the place he’d shown her shone vivid and bright. Full of life and love. A paradise beyond the veil. A place she would be queen.

There was only one drawback—to be queen, to be with the man she’d loved all her life, she had to give up everything she’d ever known. Her family, friends, writing.

“He’d never ask you to give up the things you love. He’s far too stubborn for that.” Lucian stepped out of the shadow of a tree. He pointed to a stone bench, asking silent permission if he could sit.

“Sure.” She sat next to him. Her indecision and fears must have been etched all over her face.

“I’m a guard. It’s my job to protect Gabriel any way I can.”

Of course. His job made sense now. Before she’d thought him a normal bodyguard but now that she knew about the Shadow world, Lucian’s role took on deeper meaning.

She drank in his features. Like Gabriel he had otherworldly beauty. Was he immortal too? Probably.