Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (24 page)

I didn’t want to ask, I really didn’t, but I found myself doing it anyway.

“Do you and your, er…” I tried not to choke on the word and luckily succeeded, “mate have any children?”

For some reason I hated thinking about him having a mate. Essentially a wife somewhere out there staking claim to him on a level I would never have. Why I felt this way, I had no clue and it scared me most of all.

He shook his head but I didn’t feel relief. His next words, spoken so casually they were careless, cemented this feeling further.

“Not with Katrina, no. From two separate unions long ago, I created a son, Julian, and a daughter, Isobel, both live in England.”

Oh my God!

Lucien was a father.

I couldn’t wrap my head around that concept at all.

My eyes shifted away from him when I queried, “Do you talk to them?”

“Frequently.”

I kept my eyes averted. “Are you close?”

“Very.”

“Do you, um… keep in touch with their mothers?”

Why was I asking these questions?

He didn’t hesitate with his reply. “Isobel’s mother took her life thirty years ago.”

My eyes snapped back to his face but there was no expression there, no sadness or remorse.

He continued, “I still speak with, and sometimes see, Cressida, Julian’s mother.”

I didn’t want to be talking about this anymore. And in hopes of ending the discussion and my lesson which had started out great but took a turn for the worse, I asked no further questions and simply said, “Okay.”

For a moment, Lucien examined my face.

Then he asked quietly, “Have you had enough, pet?”

I’d had enough.

Boy, had I had enough.

I nodded.

“Do you have any questions?” he offered and I shook my head.

This was a lie. I still had a million questions none of which I wanted answers to at that moment. The top of the list was the existence of
Katrina.
Who she was. Where she was. What she thought about me. How long they’d been together and why Lucien was in my bed at night, his clothes in my dressing room, his body lying with me at this very moment on the couch he provided for me.

Though I knew I
definitely
didn’t want the answer to any of
that
.

As I was sorting through this new mess in my brain, his head lifted and his face disappeared in my neck. “All right, sweetheart. Lesson over.”

I shivered mainly because his deep voice sounded against the sensitive skin of my neck and that felt nice. Also because, after he stopped speaking, his tongue tasted me there and that felt nicer. Finally because he called me “sweetheart” and I liked it when he did that.

In an effort at self-preservation, to end my body’s betraying response and in an attempt to take some control of the situation, I asked, “Can I get dressed?”

“No.”

I blinked.

“No?” I queried and my voice sounded breathy.

His mouth traveled up my neck, over my jaw to meet my lips.

“No. I’ve decided you’ll be naked most of today.”

What?
My mind screamed.

“What?” my mouth whispered.

I felt his smile against my lips. “You’ll be naked. Obviously you’ve learned your lesson and decided to mind me. That deserves a reward.” His voice dipped lower when he informed me, “And I’m going to spend all day giving you that reward.”

Oh my God.

Now what had I done?

The game I’d instigated had taken a nasty turn. And this was because he played it far better than me.

Damn the vampire!

“Lucien…” I started but his hand hit my bare thigh, roving upwards under my robe to cup my bottom.

He interrupted my concentration on the movement of his hand by demanding, “Kiss me, pet.”

“Kiss you?” I whispered.

“I want your tongue in my mouth.”

Oh my
God
.

“Lucien –” I started again but he cut me off.

“You intend to disobey me?” His tone sounded like a gentle threat or possibly a challenge.

What did I do now?

My choices were to be Obedient Leah and kiss him or be Real Leah and likely get punishment.

I was screwed!

“Can we –?” I began yet again only to be interrupted again.

“Kiss me, Leah.”

“Just give me two –”

His hand pressed my hips against his and I could feel he was hard. My body registered that I liked it that he was hard, that I could make him hard just by lying beside him and talking.

That may have been what my body registered but my mind registered complete and utter fear.

I watched his eyes grow dark and intense.

Then he growled, “Do what I say or –”

I cut
him
off this time and kissed him.

The minute my tongue touched his, per usual, I wondered why I’d struggled against it. Both our heads slanted to opposite sides. Our tongues dueled, both fighting for supremacy, taking, taking, taking, so hungry, at the same time giving so much I felt my body consumed with the gift of his kiss.

It was glorious.

My back arched, pressing my torso into his, seeking maximum contact but he pulled away. His hand moving between us, he yanked at the tie on my robe, shifting it aside. His hand slid across my waist, up my back, pressing in, my sensitive naked torso flattened against his massive, hard, tee-covered chest.

It felt
great
.

His mouth broke from mine and he demanded in a husky voice, “Wrap your leg around my waist. I want to smell you.”

His demand caused my belly to dip and a rush of heat to surge between my legs.

I did as I was told, biting my lip, feeling both desire and embarrassment all of this mingled with fear, of him, of what we were doing, of what it meant that I responded to him so strongly even though I despised him so thoroughly.

When my calf curled around his ass, his eyes grew unfocused.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered and his gaze caught mine, still fogged. “I can’t wait to have my mouth on you, to have the taste of you on my tongue, to have that scent take over my world.”

That was the second weirdest, yet most profound, compliment I’d ever had.

I had no time to let it sink in. He was kissing me, harder, more demanding, more beautiful than the last.

His hands moved on me, mine moved on him, yanking up his tee so they could move skin against skin.

His body felt amazing beneath my touch. Hard, silken, strong, massive, defined.

His mouth tore from mine but his lips slid down my cheek, scoring a delicious path over my jaw, neck, down, making me tremble.

“Offer your breast to me,” he ordered, mouth at my chest and I was so deep in my own sensual fog, his question confused me.

“Sorry?”

His lips moved away and he pulled up, his eyes locking with mine.

“I want you to offer me your breast.”

His command sliced through my arousal. I didn’t know what he meant. Was he going to feed on me there like I’d seen the vampire do last night? Or was he going to do something else?

Both of which I wanted. Both of which terrified me.

I swallowed.

His eyes scanned my face before he asked softly, “What’s this?”

I stared at him and it hit me that he looked strangely hopeful.

“Maybe this is going a little fast for me,” I tried.

And failed.

His expression shifted, not angry or impatient but pleased. Very pleased. Even, if it could be credited, relieved.

And stimulated. Or,
more
stimulated.

“You deny me?” he whispered sounding like he hoped I did.

“Um…”

“Offer me your breast, Leah,” he repeated.

“Er…”

“Cup it in your hand and offer it to me.”

“Couldn’t we just, you know, carry on like before, natural-like?” I suggested.

He shook his head and his arms stole around me, tensing fiercely, crushing me to him.

“Today, if it takes all day, if it takes into tomorrow, if it takes the next month, you’ll learn to submit to me. You’ll learn to give me what I want when I ask for it. You’ll learn to offer me what I desire when I demand it. You’ll learn to beg me for your own release when I require it.”

I felt my temper rise. Really, he was
such
a jerk.

“I don’t think –”

“Give me your breast, pet.”

“Lucien, seriously.”

“
Do it!
” he snarled, his voice turning dangerous, his patience waning.

Obedient Leah evaporated and Real Leah glared.

“You want it, take it! I’m not giving you
anything,
” I snarled back.

He rolled into me, his massive weight crushing me to the couch and, for some unhinged reason, regardless of the fact we were locked in our usual battle, I found I was wrong about his patience waning.

It had been a test. A test I failed. A battle he won.

And he looked triumphant.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he muttered.

Great!

Then it began, my punishment for disobeying – his hands on me, his mouth on me everywhere, hard, hot, ravenous, demanding my response and getting it in spades.

He lit me on fire. I fought it but I didn’t win. My defenses were puny and they collapsed within minutes.

I pulled up his tee and he took over, arching away from me, tearing it over his head and tossing it aside. With all his delicious skin exposed, a craving so intense it felt like it would shatter me tore through my system. My mouth sought anywhere it could touch, taste, lick, bite, suck and I liked the way he tasted.

No, I
adored
it.

When we kissed again, my fingers curled into his hair, holding him to me like I’d never let him go.

He broke our kiss and his mouth traveled the length of me, pushing the robe wide, exposing me to him and I didn’t try to hide. I kept my fingers in his hair as he explored, tempting, pressing for a reaction, taking it when it happened but not giving that first thing back. He blew against my nipples, they hardened, peaking with a beautiful pain. His tongue swept along my skin, under the swells of my breasts, across my midriff, circling my belly button, lower, until it teased the edge of my black lace panties.

Then his mouth was on me between my legs, sucking for an instant, hot and hard, over my panties.

The pleasure seared through me, rocking me to my soul and my hips surged upwards, an instinctive demand for more.

His mouth disappeared and all of a sudden his body was on mine again, his lips against my mouth, the flavor of me a hint on his.

“You want my mouth between your legs?” he growled, even his voice, rough with desire, trilled through my system, making me squirm.

I did. I wanted his mouth between my legs. I wanted
him
inside me, his tongue or anything else he choose to put there.

I didn’t answer, instead I panted against his mouth.

“Do you want me?” he pushed.

“Lucien –” My voice was a breathy plea for release.

“Beg me,” he demanded.

It would be so easy to give up, to give in, to take what I wanted knowing it would be, by far, the best I ever had. It would be so easy to humble myself and deal with the consequences later.

But I couldn’t. If I did, I knew I’d lose myself, all that was me. The mass of bad traits, stubbornness, impatience and sometimes fumbling idiocy and all the good traits too, my loyalty, sense of humor and compassion. I wouldn’t hold onto me anymore. I would be giving it to him and I didn’t trust him to take care of it.

And I knew that even if he kept it safe, he wouldn’t keep it long. He’d release me as he did Cecile and countless other concubines. By then, everything I was would be gone. He’d retain it for centuries, likely uncaring he held such a precious gift but, for me, all would be lost.

Instead of explaining any of that, or giving him the demand he asked for, I gave him another kind of entreaty. “Don’t make me do that.”

His face grew hard. “I have eternity, pet, to teach you this lesson.”

“You won’t last that long. You’ll give up,” I told him, my body still burning for his touch, wriggling underneath him.

At my words, he looked a mixture of amused and surprised.

His head cocked to the side and he asked, “Do you think that’s true?”

I nodded, being honest for once. “You’re a vampire but you’re also a man. You’ll need to get it elsewhere and you will. Eventually you’ll tire of me.”

He grinned and I didn’t like it. It was his smug grin and I reckoned it foretold very bad things for me.