* * * *
The chilly night air wandered into the darkened room, and in that second, Promise knew she was safe. She’d gain the precious moments she needed to calm down her body and approach the mating with the logic it required. She tried to keep the triumph out of her expression—she really did.
By the flaring of his nostrils and the straightening of his shoulders, she realized she’d failed.
Even so, he released her, gracefully walking backward and kicking the door shut with one boot. It slammed hard, and she jumped. When he reached behind himself, that impossible gaze still trained on her, and engaged the lock, a shiver took her.
She tore her gaze free and studied the one-room cabin. While the outside had appeared rustic, the inside was all luxury. High-end fireplace with patterned stone, nice sitting area in front of it, kitchen to the left, enormous bed to the right, and a door that no doubt led to a bathroom. Movement caught her peripheral vision, and she turned to see him stride for the fireplace, which was already stacked with kindling and wood. The strike of a match on stone held an erotic tone she couldn’t explain, but her legs threatened to fail her.
He straightened and slowly drew his shirt over his head, tossing it on one of two chairs facing the fire. The firelight caressed the hard planes of his chest, gleaming off his smooth skin and emphasizing the dark hollows beneath cut muscles.
She tried to breathe, but her lungs were as much under his spell as her attention.
“Tell me you understand what I’ve said.” His strong hands moved to unbuckle his belt.
A thrill shot through her, pulsing erotically between her legs. She had to try twice to force words out. “Comprehension and acquiescence are two different animals.”
“Aren’t they, though?” he murmured, drawing the belt free and tossing it to the other chair.
Why the other chair? She tilted her head like a doe she’d once seen spotting an oncoming car. Her legs bunched, prepared to run, but there was nowhere to go. And she wasn’t entirely certain she wouldn’t run right for him, even though she couldn’t grasp exactly what was happening at the moment.
With the firelight so bright, the dark streaks in his hair became more prominent, badges of his time as a warrior. A time she couldn’t imagine.
At that thought, self-preservation finally took over. Drawing herself up, she ignored her aching body and turned to the door. “I think we had better reschedule this.” Her voice came out almost as hoarse as his. Walking like a newborn colt, unsure of her steps, she turned and strode for the exit.
No wisp of sound came from him. She felt a slight disappointment that caught her off guard, and then she was pinned from behind, pushed against the metal door and trapped in place by a rock-hard body that was all male. His chin brushed the top of her head.
“I wanted to let you be logical,” he growled, wrapping his hand around the front of her neck and grinding his hips against her butt. “Wanted to ease you into this life. But it’s too late for that. You said yes.” His other hand plunged down the front of her pants, finding her clit instantly. He stroked, and her legs gave out, but his body kept her upright. He pressed one finger inside her. “Come now.”
Time somehow slowed. The feel of the hard metal against her nipples, his even harder body behind her, and those relentless fingers all took over. An orgasm hammered through her with a brutal blast of heat and electricity. She threw her head back into his chest, crying out, closing her eyes as she bucked against him. She came down with a whimpered sigh, her body still shaking.
He applied pressure beneath her chin, lifting her head more and exposing her neck. “You ready to obey?” His rough tongue skimmed up her neck, and his fang caught her earlobe.
She opened her eyes to see the metal door. “No.” Then she held her breath.
He paused, one finger still inside her. “You want to leave?” His breath was hot against her ear.
“No.” The word burst out of her before she could think logically. This was about need. Forget the rest.
“Good.” He twisted their bodies, putting her against the tall back of the chair, facing the crackling fire. His cock, even in his jeans, ground against her backside with a demand she felt all the way to her toes. His big hand palmed her, stretching against her thighs. “Spread your legs more.” He nipped at her ear again.
She jolted, her fingers curling over the chair back. “I—”
He ripped her shirt over her head, and she ducked, the words stolen from her. A soft scrape of his fang against first one shoulder and then the other, and soon her shredded bra joined her shirt near the fire. “I told you to spread your legs.” He grasped one nipple and twisted just enough to demonstrate her precarious position.
Her legs quaked, and an orgasm loomed.
He withdrew his fingers a little. “Not yet. You come when I tell you to.”
The sound she made was all frustration. But the feeling of his hardness against her was too delightful to ignore. So she closed her eyes and rubbed against him.
The pinch to her thigh had her jerking upright and her eyelids flying open.
His mouth licked along her ear. “If I have to tell you again, I’m pinching somewhere else.” His pinkie tapped her clit.
She spread her legs so quickly she fell forward onto the chairback.
His chuckle was dark and raspy. Dominant. “Better.” He released her, and before she could protest, he’d dragged her jeans and panties off, along with her shoes. Man, he moved fast when he wanted. He pulled her up, palming both of her breasts. “Hold on to the chair, baby.”
She did so out of pure instinct.
He pushed her partially over, sending her up on her toes. Her body quivered while she tried to find her balance. Need shot through her so quickly she could only hold her breath. What was next?
His tongue rasped down her spine, over her ribs, and to the small of her back. Fangs slid along her buttock, and then he bit. Pain clashed into her, and she cried out, turning to push him away when he palmed her core again, his thumb rubbing against her clit. Oh, God. It was so much. Everything. Fire and ice and hunger and craving. She stilled, her body following his lead.
He lifted her a bit more, and she grabbed onto the back of the chair with everything she had. Then his mouth took over for his fingers. They dug into her ass and kept her immobile as his fangs slid along her labia.
She gasped, panicked but unable to move. Then he licked her, swirling his tongue around her clit. Never in her entire life had she been more exposed. His devastating tongue gave her no quarter, and she lost track of his mouth, his tongue, even his fingers.
Her legs shook so badly they hurt, but she didn’t care. She strained, so close to an orgasm that a soft sob escaped her. More. She needed more. A tremble uncoiled inside her, and she reached for it—
And he slowed down.
“Nooooo,” she gasped, shaking her head wildly.
He chuckled against her, hurling vibrations through her that were a devastating tease. A tempting example of what he could do. “You want to come?”
Her eyelids fluttered several times, and she couldn’t stop them. “Yes.”
“Then beg me.”
His mouth returned to torturing her.
Beg? She didn’t know how to beg. “Please?”
He paused, and she wanted to scream in protest. “Better. But not quite.”
On all that was holy. “Please, Ivar, master of the entire universe?” she groaned.
His chuckle this time almost sent her over. “I like that. A lot. And I have every intention of mastering you.” He gave her one long, slow lick. “Who are you going to obey, sweetheart?”
Even in the throes of a possible stroke brought on by absence of orgasm, she knew not to agree. But her body was quickly overcoming her mind. “I’ll try.” It was the best she could do.
The hard smack to
her clit sent her right up onto her toes, and she almost fell over the chair.
“Do better,” he suggested, his tone dark.
“Okay. You’ve got it. You win. I’ll obey.” She said the words in such a rush they didn’t even compute.
He stroked her, and then his mouth descended. “Come now.”
She exploded instantly, her mind shutting down, stars from every constellation bursting behind her closed lids. Right after she’d fallen over the crest, her body beginning to calm, he stood and slammed into her in one hard thrust. She gasped, her body taken over. When had he removed his jeans?
Then he was pounding. Hard and fast, deeper than any human could ever go.
Against everything she thought possible, she climbed up again, her body taking over since her mind was done.
“God, I want you,” he rasped against her neck.
She shivered, taking all of him. He thrust into her and tugged her head back. Her heart stopped and then rushed to pump blood as fast as possible. “Come again.”
Her body obeyed him, detonating into a million pieces. Pain slashed into her neck from his fangs, followed by an echoing burn above her right buttock, singeing deep enough to capture her soul. He shook against her with his own release and then retracted his fangs, licking the wound closed.
She blinked, her body shutting down with exhaustion. Holy Newton. She was mated.
Chapter Thirty
Ivar finished stoking the fire and then returned to bed, pulling his woman close to keep her warm. Birds chirped outside with the oncoming morning. He brushed his hand down her arm and then tucked her more securely beneath the quilt.
She stirred, her butt to his groin. “Where are we, anyway?”
“Colorado,” he said. “Middle of nowhere. It’s a place I come to when I need to get away.” Which had happened quite often during the last three months. Though he’d never brought another person here. “Are you all right?” He’d been rough with her.
“Yes.” She stretched against him. “I don’t feel immortal.”
“It takes some time, and I’m not sure you will feel different. Well, until you hurt yourself and learn to heal.”
She put her cold feet on his thigh, wiggling her ass as she did so. “It felt like you put your mark on my right butt cheek.”
He nodded and kissed the back of her neck. “Part on your cheek and part on your lower back.” He had a large hand.
“I wanted it in my center back. Why did you put it there?”
“It’s where I wanted it.” He licked down her neck to her shoulder, and when he found his bite, she shivered. “Which, I believe, is how we firmly established our relationship would go.” At least until he could save Quade and then make the world much safer for her.
She shook her head, and her thick hair caught on the pillow. “An agreement made during duress doesn’t count.”
“You came five times. That can hardly be qualified as duress.” Yeah, he knew what she meant. That didn’t change their reality. “Our lives are dangerous. The second they aren’t, you can go back to being as independent as you want.” So long as she stayed safe. It really wasn’t much to ask. Or rather, demand. “There are consequences to mating, and I spelled them out clearly to you.”
He couldn’t see her, but he’d bet his left nut she rolled her eyes.
“I can see this is a discussion for another day,” she said. “For now, tell me about Ulric. What did he do that was so bad?”
It was before Ivar’s time, when his older brother had helped to create the Seven. But he knew the stories. “Ulric is a Cyst who killed a hundred Enhanced women and took their blood. There was a ceremony, one probably really screwing with the physical laws of the world, and he fused his entire body. Can’t be killed from outside.”
“Like you?” she asked.
“No. I can be beheaded,” he reminded her. “Our torsos are fused like his whole body. So the only way to kill him is to do it from within. With the blood of his victims.”
She shook her head. “That’s crazy.”
“Reality often is,” he murmured. “One of the victims was a powerful witch who managed to first infuse her triplets with a drug that’d kill him if their blood was combined. They were the first Keys. Whenever one dies, another one takes her place.” He kissed her neck again, enjoying her soft gasp. “Grace is one of the Keys, as is Mercy. We haven’t found the third.”
She swallowed audibly. “Isn’t it possible that Ulric has reformed? A million lifetimes in hell will do that to a monster.”
“Actually, hell creates more monsters.” Ivar tried to find the right words. “The Cyst have been preparing for Ulric’s return for years. Fusing his body was only the first half of his ritual; the second part remains unfinished. If he completes the other half, he’ll have the ability to kill all Enhanced women. Every single one of them.”
She was quiet for several moments. “Like me?”
“Yes. Like you. Even mated ones.” He held her tighter, needing her to understand the danger she was in. “The Seven have diaries and notes on the rituals as well as the science involved. You’re welcome to all of it.” He knew she’d be eager to study the problem and figure it all out. That was good. Somebody needed to and rather soon.
She nodded. “Another scientific investigation to pursue. I can’t believe how many there are.”
He flattened his palm across her upper chest, feeling her heart beat. Strong and steady. Beneath his touch, it revved up. “You now have eternity to pursue each and every one. At least you will, shortly.” He didn’t know how long it would take for her chromosomal pairs to increase. The current theory was that everyone was different, which made sense.
“How much time are we talking?” she asked.
“Anywhere between a couple of days and a week, last I heard,” he said. “You can talk to the queen. She’s a geneticist and has been studying the issue for quite a while.”
“All right.” Promise turned in the bed to face him. “Last night was indescribable.”
“Agreed.” He took in her sleepy eyes and mussy hair. She was perfect in the morning.
She blinked. “I need to get back to my math, Ivar. The boards are calling me.”
He grinned. Man, she was cute. From the very beginning, he’d thought so. “All right.” He rolled her over, planting himself on top of her. “In a few minutes.” Then he kissed her.
* * * *
Even after a lovely shower and serviceable breakfast at the cabin, Promise was more unsettled than she’d been defending her first dissertation when Logan arrived to teleport them back to demon headquarters. The mating had gone way beyond mere bodily functions and sex. “You’re kind of kinky, Ivar,” she said, following him outside to the rocks.
He snorted. “I’m just me.”
Yes. That was correct. And he was far from the growly and easygoing guy who’d cooked stew in her unstocked kitchen. There were depths to him, and they were not at all human. Her visceral reaction to him, to the dominance in him, both thrilled and concerned her.
Never in her life had she found it difficult to handle an issue with her brain instead of emotions. Until now.
Logan waited at the far edge of the rock, dressed in a torn T-shirt and dark jeans, a bandage wrapped around his right forearm.
Promise drew near. “What is this?”
He removed the cotton and showed a three-inch gash already turning red and swollen. “Garrett and I were sparring, and he got me with a good fake. Thought since I was coming to pick you up, you’d like to see healing cells at work.”
She gasped, rushing toward him, her mind going on full alert. “That is so kind.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Sure.” Then he looked at the wound, breathed in and exhaled evenly.
The wound stitched itself together and then healed, the muscle and sinew beneath the skin
smoothing out within a few seconds.
She straightened. “That happened so quickly.” Waiting for his nod, she prodded the healed skin, running her fingers along the tendon and finding no ridges or abnormalities. “Truly excellent.”
Ivar slipped his arm around her waist and drew her back into his hard body. Her abdomen did a slow roll, and desire flushed along her skin, warming her even more than the hybrid’s proximity. “Don’t think of attempting that on yourself for a while, little professor.”
Heat climbed into her face. She had been considering a couple of experiments. But it did most likely take time for the ability to develop. “We’ll see.” It wouldn’t do to allow Ivar to become too bossy with her.
His hold tightened. “Logan?”
Logan’s eyes twinkled. “The queen is ready to perform MRIs on everybody, if you’d like to start with an experiment today.”
Promise hopped, exhilaration finally taking over the warning ticking through her. “Wonderful. I want to get started.” Her mind flicked through facts she knew about royalty. “With this queen, what’s the protocol?” The last thing she wanted was to start off on the wrong foot with the Queen of the Realm.
“Huh?” Logan asked.
Oh, men were clueless. “Is there a curtsy involved? Do I say, ‘Long live the queen,’ or is there some other form of address?”
Logan scratched his skin where the wound had healed. “We just usually hold out an arm.”
Promise ducked her chin. What kind of royal protocol was that? “I’m not comprehending. Is the queen a hugger?” Maybe it was a two-kiss-on-the-cheeks type of situation.
Logan snorted. “No, but chances are, she’ll have a syringe with her. If she wants your blood, let her have it.”
“No kidding,” Ivar muttered. “Benny stayed at headquarters for a week last month, and he was determined not to donate blood for her research. The woman waited until he was asleep and pretty much attacked him.”
Logan nodded. “Yeah. Not much Ben could do in that situation. It wasn’t like he could throw her across the room or anything.”
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