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A Gray Area

Page 28

by Amy Sumida

The President blinked; just barely, but enough to convey his own surprise. “Your diplomatic mission. The one you worked out with your uncle.”

  “My what?!” I growled.

  President Colton took in my ire and grimaced. “It seems that I've been played.”

  “What did my uncle say to you, Mr. President?” I asked in a steady and deadly voice.

  “He said that you would be visiting Eden next month and that he wanted to use the opportunity to work out the details of establishing a Triari Embassy in America,” the President said crisply. “We've been speaking about it already, but it would be easier with you as America's physical representative on Eden. However, I see that no such arrangement was made.”

  “No; it wasn't.” I looked accusingly at Kyrian.

  “It wasn't me, Amara,” Kyrian was back to his aloof self; his voice was cool and calm, and his halo was firmly in place. “King Jovan did not disclose his intentions to deceive you to me; I swear it.”

  “Damn,” Colton muttered. “It was going so well. Telling him to go to hell now will throw a wrench in the works.”

  “You probably shouldn't use those exact words,” Kyrian advised dryly.

  President Colton's expression went blank, and then he chuckled. “Because Hell is the Bleiten home planet. Right. I forgot.”

  “It's all right, Mr. President, I'll go,” I said softly.

  “What?” Malik snarled.

  “Are you sure?” Colton asked.

  “I have to meet my relatives eventually,” I said. “But I'm not going alone.” I looked pointedly at Malik.

  Malik grinned.

  “Sure, bring Prince Malik if you want to get him killed,” Kyrian said grimly.

  “I can handle myself.” Malik glared at Kyrian.

  “There's no doubt about that.” Kyrian looked from Malik to me and then back again. “But one man is still only one man. And you'll be in the Triari fortress where intrigue abounds. They may try to assassinate you in ways you'd be unable to fight; poison, false charges, a knife between the ribs as you sleep. The possibilities are endless.”

  My stomach dropped as the mark burned the back of my neck. Malik was furious, but I was simply afraid.

  “Kyrian's right,” I murmured. “Even if my uncle assured me that you'd be safe, there may be Triari there like Prince Traegur; men who would have no problem going against my uncle's orders to get revenge against the Slayer of Shanistar. And they wouldn't be honorable about it.”

  Malik's jaw clenched as he let out a long exhale.

  “I wish I could say that my people wouldn't do such terrible things, but we both now know that it would be a lie,” Kyrian said crisply. “If the Princess goes, she must go alone.”

  “I can send soldiers with you,” President Colton offered.

  “On a diplomatic mission?” I asked.

  “Absolutely; that's how it's done,” the President said.

  “No offense, Mr. President, but human soldiers would pose no threat to the Host,” Kyrian said.

  “We'll go with you.” Davorin looked at the other members of FEAR. “Won't we?”

  They all nodded.

  “I think that would be acceptable,” Kyrian agreed.

  “So, they can go with her, but I can't?” Malik growled.

  “I can twist now, Mal,” I reminded him. “If something happens on Eden, I can be home in seconds. They can't hold me against my will.”

  “I will not let anyone harm her,” Kyrian added.

  “Actually, it might be better if just Kyrian and I go,” I said to the other members of FEAR. “Then I won't have to worry about twisting back for the rest of you if something goes wrong.”

  “Your uncle won't hurt you, Amara,” Kyrian said firmly.

  “But someone else might,” Malik said. “Just as they might hurt me. I will go, and Amara can twist us both away if necessary.”

  “Let's talk about this later,” I said wearily. “For now, Mr. President, don't contact my uncle. I need to speak with him first and negotiate the terms of my visit.”

  “That sounds wise,” Colton agreed. “Let me know when you've settled things.”

  “Until then, all of you take a much-deserved break,” Secretary Holmes said brightly.

  “Maybe we could go dancing,” Davorin offered with a smirk. “You think the Faulin would want to join us?”

  “Dav,” I ground out and shook my head while Malik growled.

  “What I say?” Davorin lifted his brows innocently.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Malik and I argued about my trip to Eden for hours. I didn't want him going. There was already a risk that a triari might come after me; either to mess with my uncle or to try their luck at getting the Amaranthine Elixir for themselves. But with Malik by my side, I might stir up animosities that would not have been directed toward me otherwise. He was a risk for both of us.

  And that wasn't what he wanted to hear.

  “I can't put you in jeopardy,” Malik finally growled. “But I can't let you go into danger without me either. Both go against the instincts of a mvarro.”

  “Perhaps you should take this time to visit your father and tell him about you being a mvarro now,” I suggested gently.

  Malik ran a weary hand over his face. “You're right; I need to tell him.”

  “You think he'll be upset.” It wasn't a question.

  “I know he will.” Malik slid me onto his lap; we were sitting on the couch in the living room. “But I may be able to convince him to see the upside of a union with the Triari. Will you tell your uncle?”

  “I'm going to tell him when I call him to talk about this trip.”

  Malik smiled. “That will be an interesting conversation.”

  “Neither your father nor my uncle can do anything about it now,” I said. “They have to accept it or reject us.”

  “My father would never turn his back on me,” Malik said confidently. “No matter what I've done. It's my people that may reject me.”

  “I'm sorry, darling.”

  “I told you before, Mvarra; you are worth a thousand crowns.” He laid his forehead against mine briefly. “I have no regrets; even if this loses me the Bleiten throne. I'd be completely content to spend the rest of my days on Earth with you.”

  “I love you too.” I kissed him and it quickly became more.

  Malik growled as we urgently undressed each other. His eyes flashed with fire and his mark responded with a sweet, stroking pleasure. I moaned as a delicious heat spread down my back and drenched my sex. My thighs clenched and my back arched. I could feel his mouth sucking at my sex while I was simultaneously pressed tightly against his hard shaft. The mark; it had to be.

  “Do you feel that?” Malik murmured against my throat as I helped him out of his pants.

  “I feel you everywhere,” I whispered. “Your hands on my ass, your mouth at my breast, your cock thrusting inside me.”

  “The last bit is real,” he said with a low, sexy chuckle.

  I looked down and saw Malik surging up into me; my thighs spread over his lap. His hands held my hips as I rode him and clutched at his shoulders. Malik's muscled chest rubbed against the hardened peaks of my breasts; sending more zings of delight through my body along with the lusty attentions of his mark.

  Malik's head was thrown back over the couch; his lips parted to show the tips of his fangs. I covered his mouth with mine as I ground down hard on his shaft; taking as much of him inside myself as I could. The heat of his tongue wrestled with mine, and we groaned together in bliss. I slid my fingers through his hair and gripped hard; part of me wishing there was more of it to hold onto. Silky white locks that I could wrap around my fists.

  I gasped as the image of Cyprian was superimposed over Malik. Malik used my motion to lean forward and suck a nipple into his mouth. As he tongued me and bucked upward, I relaxed. It was just a random thought. I simply needed to focus on my lover. The feel of him inside me. The magic of his mark racing along my spine. His han
ds kneading my ass, and his mouth sucking at my flesh.

  But then another mouth was on me; nibbling at my shoulder as another solid chest pressed against my back; muscular but not as broad as Malik's. I glanced over my shoulder in shock, but no one was there. Tingles rushed over my skin as the lips at my shoulder kissed their way down my back and then between my thighs. Malik's hard length was slamming into me mercilessly, but there was also an insistent mouth sucking on my sex.

  I screamed as the pleasure took me.

  Malik growled in delight as he moved me off his lap and then bent me over the back of the couch. I leaned against the padded top in a partial bend while he spread my legs like a cop. His fingers worked me ruthlessly until wet sounds echoed around us. His teeth nibbled at my neck—over his mark—and rapture ruled my world. I felt him at my entrance just as another pressure rubbed me there. My eyes went wide as an image of Cyprian filled my mind; he was standing before me and massaging my breasts as he kissed me. I could taste him; the sweet, honeyed-spice of his tongue. I tried to say no, but my mouth was full of Cyprian and, suddenly, my sex was full of Malik. All I could do was groan.

  Malik withdrew and another shaft surged inside me. I screamed out in shock and ecstasy as the perfectly timed plunges rocked my body. As soon as one withdrew, the other was there to replace it so that I was constantly full and constantly stimulated.

  “Wait,” I whispered. This was so wrong.

  “I can't. Damn it all,” Malik growled. He looked furious for a moment but then groaned with pleasure. “Are you close, Mvarra? I can't hold back much longer.”

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  The utter bliss of orgasm exploded through me, and Malik roared with it. His mark shivered violently with ecstasy as he let go inside me. Simultaneously, something hot streamed across my belly. I looked down and had a flash of Cyprian; lying in his dark, silken bed with his hand around his beautiful cock. One arm was bent behind his head and one knee bent out to the side. His golden flesh gleamed against the inky sheets. And then his stunning eyes opened and stared up at me in shock. There was cum on his thighs—not my belly—and his hand still held his flaccid member. It started to stir as he stared at me.

  “Se esaria, what have you done?” Cyprian whispered.

  I jerked away as Malik lowered us onto the couch and tucked me in against his chest.

  “I love you, Amara,” Malik whispered to me before he kissed me.

  I curled up against Malik's strong heartbeat. “I love you too.”

  A shiver of fear jolted through me, but Malik's mark pulsed steadily and warmed me until I sighed and let it go. I'd figure it out later. For now, I wanted to languish in Malik's arms and love. I would be going to Eden soon, but I knew I'd miss this paradise; the bliss that only my demon could give me. Or had it been my demons? I inhaled deeply and let my breath out slowly. What had we done to each other? And what did it mean for our future?

  I glanced up at Malik and found him staring at me with steady adoration. We would get through it; whatever it was. Be it angels or devils or our own vicious hearts. We would find a way. I closed my eyes in relief.

  Then I felt a kiss on my cheek, and I wasn't sure which man had given it to me.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “Where is he?” I growled as I stomped into the entry room of Dirty Nothings.

  The faulin woman on hostess duty paled at my expression and started stammering.

  “Where is Cyprian?” I specified.

  “I... I'm not...”

  “Never mind, I'll find him on my own.” I stalked over to the door to the left of the room and punched in the code.

  “How do you... wait! Ms. Madison, please!” She kept stammering.

  I went into the hallway, slammed the door behind me, and strode to the elevator. My toe tapped the floor as I waited for it to come down to the first floor. Good; that meant someone had used it to go up but not back down. Cyprian was most likely in the building. I went into the elevator and glanced around; no camera in the car. Of course not; this was Cyprian's private elevator.

  The car dinged, the doors opened, and there he was; standing in the hallway waiting for me.

  “Se esaria,” Cyprian whispered, his eyes volcanic.

  “What did you do?” I shoved him back as I stepped out of the elevator.

  “What did I... ?” He gaped at me. “You think that was something I did?”

  I took a deep, calming breath as I looked over the shock filling his face. My jaw clenched. I hadn't been angry when it had happened—that insane, mental menage a trois—but after the flush of my orgasm had faded, I'd begun to really think about it. To think about what Malik had said about Faulin; how devious they could be. I began to wonder if this really had been Cyprian's plan all along. But standing there, staring at him, I couldn't hold onto my anger. It wasn't his appearance. Although, he did look honestly surprised. It was the Fusion. I could feel his honesty and horror over my accusation.

  “I'm sorry,” I whispered. “I see that I was mistaken.”

  Cyprian's shoulders sagged and his eyes closed in relief. He nodded and then pulled me into a hug. Not an embrace; a hug. It was pure, chaste comfort. I hugged him back, and we stood there awhile, just clinging to each other as if our world was crumbling around us, and we were the only steady things in it. Finally, Cyprian pulled away and took my hand.

  “How about a cup of tea?” He asked as he led me down the hallway.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Cyprian's hand was warm and strong; it comforted me nearly as much as his hug had. I didn't let go of him until he eased me down into a black leather chair in front of a cafe table set to the side of a modern kitchen. The floor was polished cement without a single rug to soften it. A large, black marble and steel island with steel rivets sat on casters in the center of the airy space. Windows surged up two stories above the stove/sink area with black cabinets bisecting them horizontally. The upper cabinets were so high that a rolling ladder—the sort you find in fancy libraries—was set on a bar just below them. A small oven and a microwave were stacked to the right of the stove and a fridge to the left. Cyprian went to a canister of tea and started filling a Breville teapot with ebony leaves. He set it to brew and then joined me at the table.

  “Are you hungry? I can—”

  “Cyprian,” I cut him off softly.

  Cyprian sighed deeply and stared out the window. “I don't know what happened, se esaria.” His throat convulsed as he swallowed and then he focused his gleaming, green stare back on me. “I can't lie to you and say that I didn't enjoy it, but I wish—” he broke off.

  “You wish what?”

  Cyprian shook his head, but I sensed a deep regret inside him. The Faulin regretted that erotic experience? Why?

  “Someday, perhaps, you will allow me to make it up to you,” Cyprian whispered.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Our first time together wasn't even real.” Cyprian's beautiful lips pressed tightly together. “Or even ours. I had to watch you with him again and share your body. I didn't get the chance to touch you as I would have liked. To take my time learning what makes you shiver and savoring the feel of your body. Instead, it was like a dream.”

  “It wasn't our first time, Cyprian,” my voice emerged far too low and sexy for my comfort. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It was a fantasy. We connected through the Fusion. I don't know how or why it happened, but we can't do that again. It felt like a horrible betrayal to Malik.”

  “Malik?” Cyprian laughed mirthlessly. “You don't think he felt it too?”

  My eyes widened. “You think he knew?”

  “I'm certain of it, se esaria.” Cyprian's lips twisted viciously. “I felt his anger and then his pleasure.”

  “His what?” I whispered.

  “Have you ever had such a sublime sexual experience?” Cyprian's voice dropped to a husky timbre. Not his sexy purr; it was something far more honest than that. A true reaction. “I
haven't, and I wasn't even in the room with you.”

  I suddenly remembered the way Malik had sounded so angry but then seemed to be overcome by passion. Shit. He hadn't said a word.

  My breath hitched and the sudden beeping of the teapot made me flinch. Cyprian pretended not to notice; getting to his feet smoothly and going to pour us cups of tea. He brought over two delicate, Royal Copenhagen cups and saucers, both in the traditional white and blue pattern. He set them down on the table, resumed his seat, and started adding sugar to his cup from a bowl between us. I stared down into the golden-black liquid; a silver spoon was set on the edge of the saucer. I went through the motions of fixing my tea; putting a spoonful of sugar in it and stirring hypnotically.

 

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