by Lexi C. Foss
But she really enjoyed that twirling thing he was doing right now.
“Jayson,” she whispered, uncertain.
He reached out to take her hand, and she squeezed the hell out of it. This feeling hurt so good, and the flames consumed her every thought.
His rhythm, heat, and presence were all she knew.
And the inferno spinning inside her in that secret area she’d never been able to access until now.
It rippled through her and combusted without warning, shooting her soul into the stars as light flashed behind her eyes. Ecstasy reverberated through every inch of her being and poured from her mouth in an endless scream.
She should have been ashamed, but she didn’t have the energy. Not after whatever he’d just done to her.
How many times had she tried to achieve the same feeling and failed? She usually gave up before starting, knowing it wouldn’t work, but Jayson had played her body like a master. And she’d responded in kind.
Her breath came in pants as he moved over her again. His lips tasted sweet, and she realized with a gasp that it was her essence on his tongue—a sinful treat that thickened her blood and clouded her judgment.
He’d fully and completely corrupted her, and she didn’t mind in the slightest. All she wanted was… “More.”
“All night, Lizzie.” He deepened their kiss and slid a thigh between her legs. “Whatever you need.”
She shook her head. “Naked.” She wanted to feel his tongue everywhere, not through a silk barrier.
He tsked. “Now, Red, we set limits at the beginning and agreed to keep our underwear on tonight.” He nuzzled her neck. “Feel free to renegotiate that next time.”
Her blood heated at the thought of the future, and she found herself nodding vigorously. His responding chuckle vibrated her chest in the most amazing way. And then he was kissing her, silencing all her thoughts and using pressure to drive her insane with lust all over again.
All night, he’d said.
Oh, yes.
11
Breakfast
Hormonal supplements are not working as desired. Benefactor requests another increase in dosage to begin immediately.
—Entry Log 116.07.4-7
Jayson’s plan backfired.
He thought a night in bed pleasuring Lizzie would help cure this temptation, but it only fortified his craving. Her passion had sprung to life in a way he hadn’t expected, driving him all the wilder. Even now, as she snuggled into his side, he could feel the heat radiating from her. The woman had transformed into a sensual goddess under his touch, and he fucking loved it.
He needed more.
So much more.
He palmed his forehead and blew out a breath. This wouldn’t end well. He knew that. The second she learned the truth, everything would end, yet he couldn’t bring himself to take this any further without her knowing the reality of their situation. It wasn’t fair to her.
The conundrum left him with a throbbing headache and a raging hard-on.
He needed a long shower, preferably with the redhead using his shoulder as a pillow.
His steadfast control had never been more important than it was last night when she begged to touch him and reciprocate. It took more energy than it should have to refuse her, mostly because he quieted her requests by exhausting her sexually.
She passed out on top of him around five this morning, hence the early afternoon hour. He’d slept more than he expected and woke with the overwhelming urge to flatten her beneath him and claim her.
Fucking bizarre.
Jayson enjoyed naked women in his bed and usually entertained them with another round of pleasure in the morning, but this desire was unnatural. It went far deeper than a carnal yearning and scared the shit out of him.
He wasn’t a “love them and leave them” type but more of a “love them and maybe love them again later” type.
But with Lizzie, he thought he could be a “love her and only her” type. Especially after the way she came apart in his arms. She had responded to his touch like no one else in his long memory.
It has to be a trick.
Something to do with her genetics?
He’d have to ask the others if they felt this strange draw to her. It was messing with his head. Both of them.
Her thigh shifted over his, lifting upward to settle where he wanted her touch most—as if her body knew his needs without asking.
The woman was clearly created to test his control and destroy him.
He bit off a groan as she pressed her ample breasts into his side.
Heaven. That’s what she felt like beside him. And every sinful part of him begged to pull her under him and unleash his darkest cravings. But she was nowhere near ready for him, and not just because of all the secrets.
Her leg slipped lower, then higher, and before he could react, Lizzie straddled his hips and stared down at him through hooded eyes.
“Good morning,” she murmured in a voice thickened by sleep and lust. It sounded amazing coming from her. And that look? Pure, unadulterated sex.
He settled his palm on her waist. “Good afternoon,” he corrected with a smile. “Sleep well?”
“Mm-hmm.” She rocked her hips over his erection with the murmur, sending pleasure straight to his aching balls. He tightened his hold to cease her movements, but she rebelled by flattening her chest against his and pressing little kisses to his jaw. “It’s a new day, and I’m ready to renegotiate.”
Fuck.
“Lizzie…”
She silenced him with a kiss and, with her tongue, unleashed everything he’d taught her last night. It blew his mind how quickly this woman caught on to his preferences. However, she’d neglected to remember one major element to this relationship between them.
He rolled her beneath him and pinned her arms to the mattress on either side of her head. “You’re forgetting something important, Red.”
Big brown eyes stared up at him as a beautiful flush painted her cheeks. “What’s that?” she asked in a breathy voice.
“You’re not in charge, sweetheart.” He nipped her lip in silent reprimand before pressing his mouth to her ear. “And I say we’re not renegotiating yet.” He drew his tongue down the column of her neck to her collarbone and farther, until he reached the rosy peak of her breast.
They could test one more limit before breakfast.
Rather than suck the tender nipple into his mouth, he grazed it with his teeth and smiled when she bowed off the bed. A harder pinch elicited a strangled noise of need that sent a jolt of desire straight to his dick.
It seemed Lizzie Watkins wasn’t averse to a little bit of pain mingled with her pleasure. He would enjoy evoking more of that at a later time.
He laved her abused breast before placing an open-mouthed kiss to the other and left her alone on the bed.
She blinked up at him in confusion. “Where are you going?”
“Brunch,” he replied. “We need to eat.” And his gifted nose told him someone was hard at work in the kitchen.
“But…” Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she ogled at his barely contained cock. He fought the urge to grin. She looked ready to devour him. If only he could allow it.
“That’s not on the menu, Red.” He selected a pair of boxers from his dresser drawer and a white shirt. “Here.”
She ignored the clothes. “I’m not hungry.”
“Your eyes say otherwise.” He pulled a matching tee over his head before finding a pair of sweatpants. “Get dressed.”
The little rebel narrowed her gaze. “Can’t we eat after?”
He planted his hands on either side of her head and stared her down. “You’re forgetting who is in control again.”
She frowned. “I never agreed to that.”
“Not true, sweetheart.” He brushed his lips against hers. “You agreed the moment you stepped into my bedroom. And”—he pressed his mouth to her ear—“you like my commands.” He smiled against her warmin
g neck. “Now get up so we can eat.”
If she were lying on her stomach, he would have followed it up with a light swat to her ass. Instead, he gently bit her pulse before standing upright and cocking a brow.
She glowered at him, but her beautiful flush and stiff nipples told him all he needed to know about her aroused state. Lizzie wanted him to finish what he started, but he’d opted to force her to go without—his way of reminding her who called the shots.
And maybe because he wanted her to live through a slight variation of his agony.
Was it fair? Hell no.
Was it necessary? Yes. Because he needed a break before he did something stupid, like fuck her into oblivion.
He would need to talk to Luc today not just about the vial of liquid from last night but about his evolving relationship with Lizzie. This couldn’t continue, not with her being kept in the dark. She deserved better.
Jayson immediately regretted his wardrobe choice for Lizzie as she pulled on his clothes. He dressed so many women in this fashion and never cared, yet somehow she captivated him.
His white shirt fell past her hips, ending just above the boxer shorts. The fabric hung loosely on her, but her curves peeked at him in the subtlest of ways. He would definitely be fantasizing about this later. After she left.
“Happy?” she asked.
He threaded his fingers in her hair and allowed a sliver of his arousal to rise to the surface as he kissed the hell out of her. His tongue silenced hers while he unleashed his desire and marked her the way he wanted. Her nails dug into his arms, spurring him on, until he left her panting before him. “I am now,” he whispered, responding to her inquiry into his happiness. “Let’s eat.”
“You’re killing me,” she breathed.
“Likewise, Red.” He swept his tongue over hers once more before sliding his hand into hers and leading her to the door. She followed without argument, her fingers curling around his as he guided her down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Balthazar stood in a pair of boxer briefs and nothing else. He flipped a pancake onto a plate as they entered, and turned to set it on the island.
“A seven-point-six, Jay. Nicely done.” Mirth danced in his wicked gaze as he took in Lizzie’s disheveled state. “You look famished, sweetheart. Why don’t you take the first plate while I finish up the rest?”
Jayson counted the plates on the island while Lizzie stood frozen beside him. Balthazar’s physique did that to most women. Men, too, for that matter.
“Are Grace and Jacque still here?” Jayson asked, curious.
“They’re in the living area catching up on their American television shows,” B replied as he flipped another pancake.
Eight plates, minus the ones for Lizzie, Jay, and the two in the living area, meant that Balthazar had four for himself. You only took three of them to bed?
A shrug from the immortal at the stove.
Not the correct assessment. Maybe he wasn’t planning to eat. Four?
“You need more plates, Jay,” Balthazar said as he grabbed one from the counter. “I believe twelve is the standard, but in this case, I need ten.”
Five? Jayson grinned. Nice. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do.” He handed the pancake-layered plate to Jayson. “Luc invited us over for drinks later.”
Is he done reviewing the serum? Jayson asked.
Balthazar lifted his chin in the affirmative before saying, “He wants us over as soon as we’re free. Does that work for you?”
“Yep.” He picked up Lizzie’s untouched plate and bumped his hip against hers. “Let’s eat, Red.”
“Uh, yep.” Lizzie picked her jaw up off the floor and managed to follow him to the dining room.
“I clearly didn’t do my job right if you find Balthazar more interesting than me,” he said as he sat beside her rather than across from her.
“He’s practically naked,” she whispered.
He selected a set of silverware from the middle of the table—Balthazar seriously thought of everything when it came to the kitchen, and the bedroom for that matter—and handed it to Lizzie.
“Balthazar enjoys all aspects of sexuality, including exhibitionism,” he replied. “I’m honestly shocked he bothered to put on boxers at all.” He suspected the only reason he wore them was for Lizzie’s sake. Everyone else in this condo had seen him naked countless times.
She gaped at him. “So this is normal?”
“For Balthazar? Definitely.”
“And for you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It’s not a daily occurrence, but Balthazar has a thing for pancakes.”
“No, I meant to throw parties and…” She trailed off as Balthazar left the kitchen with two plates and went in the direction of the bedroom. An array of giggles followed, causing Lizzie to frown. “How do you know all these people, again?”
He told her this last night, but perhaps not with enough detail.
“I don’t know most of them,” Jayson admitted as he grabbed a knife and fork for himself. “Balthazar is an old friend from Hydria, which is the Greek island I lived on prior to moving here for work.” He gave her a pointed look. “You still owe me cookies.”
“What about the others?” she pressed rather than agreeing. He’d circle back to the cookies later.
“Jacque and Grace are from Hydria, as well, and are visiting for the weekend with B. Tristan was the only one you met last night from the city.”
“And all the women?”
“Balthazar’s friends.” He found the syrup B had left out for them and grinned at the familiar label. Jacque had clearly procured this from Luc’s private stash. Their supreme leader had a thing for pure maple products.
“Do you want any?” he asked, hoping to return her mood to the sexy banter from before.
“Uh, sure.”
He drizzled the syrup over her pancakes while she watched before doing the same to his own. “Looks like B decided on chocolate chip today,” he mused.
“So, he throws parties like this often?”
Jayson chuckled. “Yeah. I guess you could say it’s his specialty.”
She didn’t return his amusement. “And he usually makes breakfast for everyone the next morning?”
“Sustenance is important after an evening of vigorous exercise,” Balthazar replied as he returned to the kitchen to pick up the rest of the plates. “It’s the hospitable thing to do,” he added as he left for the bedroom again.
Lizzie gaped after him before refocusing on Jayson. “So it’s routine for you all to sleep with women and feed them the next morning.” Not a question.
“I wouldn’t call it routine—”
“But it happens often?”
Jayson palmed the back of his neck. Most of the women he took to his bed understood his no-strings-attached terms, but Lizzie was different for several reasons.
“I don’t know about often.” As it depended on her definition.
“How many times in New York?”
“This would be the first.”
“And in Greece?”
“Depends on the week.” He wouldn’t lie to her, but he wouldn’t elaborate, either.
Her eyes widened as the first ounce of emotion graced her features, and it wasn’t one he ever wanted to see on her. Pain. “Always with different women or the same ones?”
He sighed. “Lizzie, what are you really trying to ask here? How often I take women to my bed? The last time I was with a woman? What do you want to know?” Because he would tell her, within reason.
Balthazar chose that moment to return again. “The ladies want syrup,” he murmured with a wink and sauntered off as Lizzie’s eyebrows jumped to her hairline.
“How many women are in there?”
“A few,” he replied vaguely. At least they’d switched to Balthazar’s sex life as a discussion. That should take some of the heat off Jayson.
“And that’s normal?” she asked.
“Yes.”
�
�For you as well?”
“I don’t tend to entertain five women in my bed at once, if that’s what you’re asking.” He regretted speaking immediately.
“Five women?” she repeated. “You’ve had… a… a… ‘sixsome’ before?”
Fuck. This was not going well at all. “Look—”
She shoved away from the table and out of his reach before he could react. Not that he’d been about to touch her—experience told him that would only make it worse.
“How many, Jayson?”
He knew what she meant—a number of bed partners. “You don’t want that answer,” he told her honestly.
She wouldn’t be able to comprehend it, not without understanding his age and everything else first. And besides, he didn’t have a figure to give. He stopped counting a millennia ago.
“Oh God.” She blinked rapidly. “Tristan mentioned sharing. He meant…” She covered her mouth while Jayson cursed inwardly.
Fucking Ichorian.
“It’s not…” Okay, there was no safe way to answer that. Not what you think would be a blatant lie because it was exactly what she thought. “It’s not something we will do,” he settled on instead. Because he had no interest in sharing Lizzie with anyone.
She shook her head. “I… I…”
The moisture pooling in her eyes broke his heart. “Lizzie—”
“No, I’m not… I don’t…” Her lips trembled, and he hated himself a little in that moment. He would never apologize for his past—he didn’t regret a second of it—but seeing what it did to her now hurt far more than it should.
“I need to go,” she said abruptly and spun toward the foyer.
He hopped to his feet to follow her, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Give her space,” Balthazar whispered, appearing behind him in that uncanny way of his. He’d no doubt heard all the thoughts going through their heads.
“We both know that’s the worst thing to do in these situations,” Jayson replied as he started after her again.
The grip turned unyielding. “Although I agree, her case is anything but normal. Let her cool off.”
