by I. T. Lucas
“Tell me that your mother is not home.”
“She left a few minutes ago.” Cassandra wrapped her legs around his waist, threaded her fingers through his tight curls, and attacked his mouth again.
He tasted of coffee and man, of desire and strength, and she couldn’t get enough of him. His tongue swept in, plundering, and then he was carrying her up the stairs as if she weighed nothing while still kissing the living daylights out of her.
She expected him to tumble with her onto her bed, but instead, he pressed her against the quilt-covered wall, his body pinning hers, his manhood a hard length pressing against her core.
Letting go of her mouth, he traced a line down the column of her neck, licking, kissing, nipping. And when he clamped his teeth over the spot where her neck met her shoulder, she hissed, not from the slight ache, but from the surge of desire rushing through her. He let go, the hurt immediately soothed by a quick swipe of his tongue.
She had a fleeting thought that his teeth were damn sharp, but it eddied away as his lips traveled up her neck, kissing, his tongue licking, his hot breath tickling her ear.
Her breasts ached, needing the attention he was paying to her neck. Yanking the bottom of her camisole, she pushed it up, baring them to him in a blatant invitation.
Onegus groaned, and a moment later, she was hoisted higher on the wall, so her nipples were perfectly aligned with his hot mouth. He latched onto one, suckling it so hard that he made her see stars. Then he let go and soothed the ache with gentle swipes of his tongue.
How was he so strong? And how sexy was it that he could hold her up so effortlessly.
Onegus did the same with her other nipple, never halting the grinding movement of his hips and the press of that maddening hardness that Cassandra couldn’t wait to feel inside of her.
She let her head drop back, saved from banging it hard thanks to the cushioning of the thick quilt she was pressed against.
Her mother would be tickled silly if she knew what her handiwork was being used for.
Perhaps a different mother would have been aghast, but not Geraldine. Heck, she might have made it especially for that purpose. After all, it had been her idea to hang it on the wall instead of using it as a bedspread.
With her camisole still bunched up under her armpits and hoisted up high, there wasn’t much Cassandra could do other than thread her fingers through Onegus’s hair. But that wasn’t where she wanted to touch him.
She wanted to peel his clothes off, to kiss and lick every inch of his warm skin, and to run her hands over those perfect muscles it was stretched over.
“Let me down,” Cassandra whispered.
Onegus let go of her nipple, looked up at her, then back at her straining nipples, and then up again. “Bed?”
“Oh, God. Yes.”
32
Onegus
To bite, or not to bite, that was the question.
And the answer was a roaring, definitely bite.
Onegus had bitten Cassandra only once, had been inside her only once, and he needed to do both soon or he’d explode. He was a patient male with an iron will and firm control over his primal responses, but even he had his limit, and it seemed like he’d reached it now.
Fighting the urge to just toss Cassandra on the bed and rip those sexy-as-sin shorts off her, he laid her down gently and hooked his fingers in their waistband. Thankfully, there was enough stretch in the fabric to allow peeling them off her without bothering with the zipper.
She helped, lifting her magnificent bottom so he could pull them down. Her panties went along with the shorts, and as he tossed them on the floor, the only piece of clothing remaining on her was the bunched-up camisole.
Cassandra took care of that, yanking it over her head and tossing it on the floor to join her shorts and panties.
The lady wasn’t shy, not with her body and not with anything else. Cupping her small breasts, she parted her legs, creating a perfect cradle for him.
“Your turn.” Her hooded eyes roamed over his still fully-dressed body.
Smiling, he started on the buttons of his dress shirt, his fingers steady despite the urge to just rip the thing off. He lasted two buttons and then pulled it over his head and tossed it.
Cassandra sucked in a breath. “I will never tire of seeing you undress. You must train for hours every day to look that good.”
His grin got wider. “Not really. I have good genes.” Ones that she might be sharing. As he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, he might have flexed his abdominals a little.
Her eyes riveted on the bulge stretching his undershorts, Cassandra licked her lips. “Take them off.”
“Bossy today, are we?” He hooked his thumbs in the waistband. “I still owe you a spanking, but luckily for you, I’m too impatient to get inside you to play games.”
As he pushed the undershorts down and his shaft sprang free, Cassandra parted her legs even further and trailed one slender hand down to where she was already sleek and glistening. “Condom,” she breathed.
“Right.”
He’d almost forgotten, which wasn’t like him. Unlike many other immortal males who thralled their human partners to think that they were using protection, Onegus had been using condoms faithfully ever since they’d come out on the market. Before the recent years of Dormant discoveries, it hadn’t been about accidentally inducing a Dormant like what had happened to Eva. It had been about avoiding fathering a mortal child.
With Cassandra, however, it was a valid concern. She was almost certainly a Dormant, and he had no intention of inducing her transition without obtaining her consent first.
Bending at the waist, he retrieved his slacks and pulled a packet out of the pocket. “Do you want to put it on me?” He walked to the side of the bed, his shaft saying hello in person.
“Yes.” Cassandra shifted up and took the packet from him.
“But first, I need a taste.”
He tensed, and when she wrapped her hand around him, he hissed. Her grip was surprisingly strong, just the way he liked it, and when she flicked her tongue over the head, his shaft rewarded her with a pearly offering.
“Hmm.” Cassandra licked it off while looking up at him. “Tangy.” Leaning down, she took nearly one-third of his length into her mouth.
Taken by surprise, Onegus nearly came. Gritting his teeth, he held his fangs at bay with a herculean effort, fisted her hair to hold her in place, and pulled out of the wet heat of her mouth.
“Perhaps I should give you that spanking after all.”
She looked at him with a challenge in her eyes. “Didn’t you like it?”
“I liked it too much.” He motioned at the condom. “Put it on.”
“Yes, sir,” she said mockingly before tearing the packet open.
The minx could really use a good spanking, but it wasn’t going to happen today. Regrettably, he had no time to play.
Somehow, despite her long, elegant nails, Cassandra managed to sheath him expertly without tearing the condom.
When she was done, Onegus pushed her back on the pillows and climbed in between that inviting cradle. “I’m not going to be gentle.”
“I don’t want you to be.” Her eyes issued a challenge.
The beast in him wanted to rise to that challenge and surge into her with one swift thrust, but he stifled the urge and teased her opening instead, coating his shaft with her juices. Looking into Cassandra’s eyes, he pushed in slowly, letting her body dictate the pace.
“I need you,” she panted, lifting her hips and urging him to go deeper.
With a growl, he drove into her, seating himself fully.
Cassandra cried out, and as her long nails dug into his back, scoring it, the slight hurt snapped the last of his restraint.
Giving in to his baser needs, Onegus pounded into her without holding back. It was dangerous to let go like that with a human, but he knew that he wouldn’t last long, and she was strong enough to take it for a short while, espec
ially since he was going to bite her in the end.
Any bruising he might cause would be healed by his venom.
Cassandra took all he had to give, her moans and mewls accompanying the banging of the headboard against the wall to create the erotic music of abandon.
His favorite.
With her scent flooding his senses and shredding the last vestiges of civility, his seed rose up in his shaft, and when he was about to climax, she turned her head, offering him her neck.
Sending a slight thrall into her mind, Onegus struck, biting hard.
Her body jerked under his, reaching the peak and hurtling over it at the same time his did.
When he was spent, Onegus retracted his fangs and licked at the bite marks, sealing them, and then gently pulled out. He was still hard as a club, but regrettably, he had no time to wait for Cassandra to come down from soaring on the euphoric cloud so they could go for a second round.
After disposing of the condom, he covered her with the blanket and took a moment to gaze at her blissed out, beautiful face.
Perhaps Cassandra felt him looking at her because she smiled, but she didn’t open her eyes.
After getting dressed, he kissed her cheek, her forehead, her parted lips, but it was to no avail. She didn’t wake up, was probably still soaring, and it wasn’t fair to shorten her trip.
He’d call her later, maybe in a couple of hours, to check on her and tell her…what? That he was grateful? That she’d rocked his world? Some witty combination of the two that his mind was too hazy at the moment to come up with?
Hopefully, by the time Cassandra woke up, he would figure it out.
33
Bowen
“I’m leaving,” Bowen told Leon as he returned from escorting guests to their suites. “You’ll have to catch a ride back home with one of the guys.”
Leon cast him a worried look. “What happened?”
“Amanda made an appointment for Margaret to see Bridget, and Margaret wants me to go with her.”
“Did you get permission from the boss?”
“Of course.”
Their shift was less than half over, but he’d texted the chief and asked to be released earlier. Onegus had accepted his request on the condition that Bowen found a Guardian to trade shifts with.
“Who is taking over for you?” Leon asked.
“Mason. He agreed in exchange for me taking over half of his night shift.”
It was a steep price to pay, especially after last night and this morning. It had been revelatory to share a bed with Margaret, and he would have loved to do the same tonight, but he would have to settle for spending just half of it holding her in his arms.
“Is it about her cast?”
“Among other things.” Bowen grimaced. “Amanda also explained the induction and subsequent transition processes, and Margaret wants to find out whether her healing injury is an obstacle.”
“You didn’t tell her what’s involved?”
“When? There was no time.”
Leon arched a brow. “You could have told her last night.”
“Margaret was tired.”
Leon’s brow hiked even higher. “Really?”
If the guy was waiting for details, he could keep on waiting. “I’ll see you later.” Bowen headed to the elevators.
His mother’s flight had been delayed, and she’d arrived only an hour ago. He’d barely had time to tell her a condensed and highly edited version of how he’d met Margaret and the story of her being Wendy’s mother. Naturally, Elise couldn’t wait to meet Margaret and wanted to come to visit right away. After explaining that Margaret was still shell-shocked and needed time to wrap her head around her new reality, he’d managed to convince his mother to wait until the wedding.
That reminded him that Margaret needed something nice to wear for the event, but he had no time to take her shopping, and it was too late to order online. Some items could be delivered overnight, but he doubted it included clothing.
Amanda could probably loan her something. Margaret was a little shorter and a little slimmer, but maybe Amanda had a dress that could fit her.
Except, he wasn’t close enough to the princess to ask her for a favor. Who else was tall and slim but more approachable?
Sari. He’d gotten pretty friendly with her during the crisis with David’s parents. She wasn’t as slim or as tall, and her wardrobe wasn’t nearly as robust as Amanda’s. Besides, she’d probably brought with her only what she needed for the visit. Perhaps he could ask her to talk to Amanda on his behalf.
Nah. He was overcomplicating things. He would just take Margaret shopping after the doctor’s visit. Hopefully, she wasn’t too picky and would be quick about it.
When he parked the golf cart in front of Leon and Anastasia’s house, he had a plan. He climbed the steps to the front door and knocked.
Anastasia opened the door. “Why did you knock?”
He shrugged. “It’s your house.”
“The four of us entered it yesterday evening for the first time together. For now, it belongs to all of us.”
He found Margaret in the bathroom, brushing her hair. She turned and smiled at him. “Did I get you in trouble with your boss?”
“Not at all.” He pulled her into his arms, lifted her, and sat her down on the counter. “It was torture to be away from you. Thank you for providing me with an excuse to come home early.” He took her lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Are you mad at me for not telling you about what it takes to start your transition?”
She shook her head. “There was no time. Besides, it sounds like much more fun than an infusion, which is what I thought I was going to get.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t wait for this cast to come off.”
“Neither can I.”
“Let’s see what Bridget says. Maybe it can come off sooner than we thought.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her out to the golf cart.
“Amanda said that your bite can speed up my recovery.” Margaret rearranged her dress over her legs and then waited until he got behind the wheel to whisper in his ear, “That’s one hell of a bonus on top of the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced.”
The grin that spread over his face stayed there until he parked the cart in front of the clinic. He had to force it off so he wasn’t caught looking like a fool.
“It’s embarrassing to be carried in,” Margaret said softly.
“But it’s more efficient. Besides, I enjoy it.”
“So do I.”
After last night, things had changed between them, and they were all good. Margaret was much less reserved, and she finally seemed to be embracing what they shared.
“Good afternoon,” Bridget greeted them. “Let’s go in there.” She pointed toward a patient room. “You can set Margaret down on the exam table.”
After he had done as she’d instructed, Bridget politely kicked him out. “You can wait in the front room or you can wait outside on the bench. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“Can’t he stay?” Margaret asked.
The doctor shook her head. “I’m going to remove the cast, and knowing how overprotective mates are, I’d rather Bowen wasn’t there when I cut it off you.”
“Oh.” Margaret paled. “I wasn’t expecting that.” She cast a worried look at Bowen.
“I promise to behave.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll stand next to the wall and won’t move from there.”
Given her grimace, Bridget didn’t like it, but she nodded. “One growl and I’m kicking you out.”
“Deal.”
34
Margaret
“I feel so light.” Margaret lifted her leg.
The cast was off, replaced by a light brace, and the doctor had said that it was okay to put weight on the foot of the injured knee.
“Are you up to doing some shopping?” Bowen carried her back to the golf cart only because she was missing a shoe.
Margaret laughed. “I don’t think any store sells just one shoe.”
“Very funny.” Bowen set her down and hopped into the cart on the driver’s side. “You need a dress for the wedding.”
Her eyes widened. “Am I invited?”
“Of course.”
“But you’ll be working. What am I going to do there all alone?”
“You are not going to be alone, and I can be with you while keeping my eyes open for trouble and carrying concealed weapons. Being on duty only means that I can’t get drunk. But since none of my friends can drink either, I don’t mind.” He cast her an amused glance. “You’ll be missing out on lewd Scottish ballads.”
“Can you sing me one?”
“You won’t understand it.”
“I want to hear you sing.”
“Fine.” He started so quietly that she could barely hear him over the wheezing noise of the golf cart’s engine.
It still sounded beautiful to her. Bowen had a deep, masculine voice. Sexy, and as he got into it and upped the volume a little, his lilting accent and timbre raised goosebumps over her arms.
Now that the damn cast was off, there were no more excuses. Tonight, she was going to seduce him and make love to this magnificent male she could finally call her own and not feel like a fraud.
When the song ended, Bowen parked the cart in front of the house. “You can wait here while I get your other shoe and one of the crutches.” He turned to her and smiled. “That’s all you need.”
She frowned. “You were serious about the shopping.”
“I have to wear a tux to the wedding, and everyone is going to be formally dressed. You need an evening gown, and there are only two ways you can get one on such short notice. One is to go to the mall, and the other is to borrow a dress from Amanda. The selection in her closet is probably better than any high-end boutique’s, and it’s all designer stuff.”
