by Jo Carlisle
Praise for
Temptation at Twilight
“Temptation at Twilight is jaw-droppingly wicked! Jo Carlisle will steal your breath away!”
—Larissa Ione
“[Carlisle] really knows how to suck you in and keep you reading long past bedtime.”
—Night Owl Reviews
“Gripping and utterly sensual, Temptation at Twilight is absolutely wonderful! Jo Carlisle knows erotica!”
—Reader to Reader Reviews
“A very steamy erotic romance, but it also packs a punch to the emotions…. I recommend this one for erotic romance fans and paranormal enthusiasts.”
—Debbie’s Book Bag
ALSO IN THE LORDS OF PLEASURE SERIES
Temptation at Twilight
Desire
After Dark
LORDS OF PLEASURE
JO CARLISLE
HEAT
HEAT
Published by New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
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First published by Heat, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, August 2012
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Copyright © Jo Davis, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
HEAT is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Carlisle, Jo.
Desire after dark : lords of pleasure / Jo Carlisle.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-101-59435-3
1. Vampires—Fiction. 2. Brothers—Fiction. 3. New Orleans (La.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3603.A7526D47 2012
813’.6—dc23
2012013222
Set in CentaurMT
Printed in the United States of America
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
To Julie Benson, for making me smile over many margaritas
and helping me remember that great times and good friends
are only a phone call away. For lifting me up and making me
laugh when life was pissing me off-fa-fa! I love you to pieces.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to:
My parents, for going an extra thousand miles with their love and support and for showing me what family is all about.
My teenagers, for their unending love and support and being the best two kids a mom could ask for.
The Foxes—Tracy Garrett, Suzanne Ferrell, Julie Benson, Addison Fox, Lorraine Heath, Jane Graves, Alice Burton, Sandy Blair, and Kay Thomas—for your special friendship and support. I couldn’t make it without you guys!
Roberta Brown, for being my cheerleader and the best agent in the land.
Tracy Bernstein, for being infinitely patient and the best editor around.
The art department, for creating wonderful art for my covers.
You are all fantastic! Hugs and kisses all around.
Desire After Dark
Table of Contents
1
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14
1
Kassandra’s day started pleasantly enough.
A good, hard fucking followed by breakfast in bed would put her in the right frame of mind to face the rest of the day—and to temporarily forget the never-ending demands of her sisters.
All were hard-as-nails Valkyrie bitches like herself, every last one, and she had no problem calling them that to their pretty faces. With love.
“Taryn!”
The young man eased smoothly into her bedroom from the hallway, where he’d no doubt been anticipating her waking up and calling on him. Kass’s personal body slave lived to serve her and doing so frequently included pounding his big cock into her pussy until she screamed the palace down.
Valkyries had a very healthy sex drive. Kass and her sisters were no exception.
Taryn’s attentiveness now, not to mention the eager member jutting proudly from between his thighs, brought a smile to her lips. The man did love his position, so to speak.
“Yes, mistress?”
She took a moment to appreciate his beauty. The slave stood patiently with his feet spread shoulder width, hands clasped behind his back. His body was long, muscled, and hard from his daily fitness regimen, so different from the starved whore she’d taken in four years ago. Straight hair black as a raven’s wing spilled just to his collarbone, framing a face saved from being too pretty by the scar running from his left temple across his cheek and stopping an inch from the corner of his mouth.
The scar was from a crazy john’s attempt to filet the gorgeous young man, the last mistake the slimy bastard had ever made. She’d slit the man’s throat with his own knife.
That went a long way in explaining the devotion shining from Taryn’s soulful brown eyes. The man didn’t give a damn that his mistress was a tough, heartless warrior. Well, almost heartless—his plight had caught her at a weak moment. To him, she was a goddess, and he told her so on a daily basis. They shared a bond of sexual passion and an odd friendship for a rent-boy-turned-slave and his mistress.
“Has my armor been cleaned?” she asked. “You know how I hate bloodstains.”
“This morning, mistress.”
“And my sword?”
“Polished to a shine, of course.”
She gave a humph of satisfaction. “Then come here, pet,” she said, stretching like a lazy cat. “Give me a proper wake-up call.”
“My pleasure, as always.”
Watching him stride for the bed completely naked, wearing that hungry look on his face, never got old. Maybe that was because she’d lived for about two thousand years and had known him for only a fraction of that time, but she’d enjoy his delectable bod
y while the shine was still on the penny.
He climbed onto the bed and stalked her on all fours, a half smile on his full lips. She spread her legs, inviting him in. He knew what she liked and was glad to give it. Settling between her thighs, he combed his fingers through the dusky patch of curls and then parted the delicate folds to better reach the nub waiting there.
His tongue flicked out, tasting, and she buried a hand in his silky hair, urging him to feast. He didn’t disappoint. After teasing the little clit for another minute, sending delightful shocks through her womb, he began to nibble. First he worked the tender nub and downward, to lave her slit. A few more swipes and she tugged at his head.
“Up here, now,” she said hoarsely. “I need you.”
His smoldering eyes met hers. “As you wish.”
Crawling up, he moved over her, placing the head of his cock at her entrance. He pushed into her heat, ever so slowly, causing her to shudder with pleasure. When he was fully seated, his hips began to pump, sliding deep, then retreating, and then repeating the process again. And again. If there was anything in eternity to compare with a man’s hard body claiming hers, she couldn’t name it.
The heat built, that wonderful crescendo that swelled in time to their music, carrying her higher. Her nails raked his back, just a bit of pain to remind him who was truly in charge. He shivered and groaned in response, hips snapping furiously now as he plunged into her welcoming channel with relish.
“Oh! Gods, yes!” she shouted.
“Can’t stop, mistress!”
“Come for me!”
She didn’t have to repeat the order. His big body went taut as a bowstring, and he buried himself fully, shouting his ecstasy. His release filled her, and she followed him over the edge, clinging to him and riding the waves. When at last they were replete, he placed his customary kiss on her cheek, a chaste ritual considering the intimacy they shared daily. But only a Valkyrie’s mate was allowed the deep, mouth-to-mouth kiss of forever love.
A love her fierce kind had little hope of ever finding.
Withdrawing from her, Taryn stretched out at her side. “Why the frown, my goddess? Weren’t you pleased?”
“Oh, hush, you.” She slapped playfully at his muscular arm. “You were fabulous as always. I guess I’m just a little…I don’t know how to describe it, really.”
“Bored?”
She thought about that. “No, not really. There’s always plenty to do, what with the gods’ never-ending politics and backstabbing.”
“Hmm. Unsettled?”
“Maybe.”
“Sad,” he said softly, tracing her cheek.
Startled, she met his gaze. “Me? I seem sad to you?”
“Yes, mistress. If you don’t mind my saying so, you’ve sort of been in a funk lately.” He paused uncertainly.
“Go on, Taryn.”
“Well, I overheard your sisters talking about you. Not in a bad way,” he hastened to add. “They’re worried. They think you need a new challenge to bring the smile back to your lovely face.”
“What kind of challenge?” Knowing her sisters, it would be sure to piss her off.
“They were discussing how long it’s been since a worthy male warrior has been brought to Valhalla to appease the gods. The general consensus was that you should escort the next one.”
Her brows furrowed. “That’s not much of a challenge at all. What are they up to?” she mused aloud.
“I don’t know, but from their laughter there did seem to be more to it that I didn’t catch,” he said darkly. “I don’t like it.”
She had to smile. “Loyal Taryn. What would I do without you?” Kissing his forehead, she scooted from the bed. “They live to annoy me, and one another, so I’m positive it’s nothing to worry about. What’s the harm in taking a fallen warrior to serve the gods? It’s an honor for the male, and a task I’ve done thousands of times. It’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you’re right, mistress.” But he didn’t sound enthusiastic.
“Get cleaned up and see if you can help in the gardens today,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal. “And stop fretting.”
“Yes, mistress.” With a sigh, he headed for the door.
Turning, she padded into the master bath and paused in indecision. Normally she’d start her day—after Taryn’s expert attentions—with a nice long soak in the huge marble tub, up to her chin in bubbles, but a sense of disquiet crept into her bones. This was a new feeling, totally different from the malaise that had plagued her lately.
There was suddenly a shift in the atmosphere, a heaviness, like black clouds gathering before a storm. The tempest was coming, but she wouldn’t be able to move from its path, nor could she run. Not that a Valkyrie would run from any threat, but this was an unknown—something bigger than herself, and for once she was afraid.
Laughing nervously, she turned on the water in the shower, letting it heat. Then she jumped in and took care of washing quickly when she’d rather have lingered—to avoid the storm.
But cowardice wasn’t in her nature, no matter the threat. The quicker she got on with her day, the quicker the problem would be revealed. She doubted that it would be half the scary thing her fanciful imagination was making it out to be.
After drying her long hair, she fixed it in a braid hanging down her back. In the bedroom, she found her black pants, short-sleeved black T-shirt, and boots laid out for her. Beside those was her silver breastplate, a lightweight, deceptively strong piece of armor. And beside that, her belt and sword in its scabbard.
It appeared someone else sensed that today wouldn’t be a lazy one for Kass.
She pulled on her pants, socks, boots, and then her shirt. The belt with the sword came next, the armor last. She’d dressed this way more times than she could count. The process came easily.
Glancing in the mirror, she was satisfied that she represented her kind well. She was tall, though not as tall as her oldest two sisters, and strong. Not much was capable of defeating a Valkyrie.
She didn’t care to meet the exception. Not today.
Striding into the corridor, she set out to find someone to tell her what the hell was going on. Her search ended in the dining room, where five beautiful women were chatting animatedly and munching on the usual breakfast fare of muffins, fruit, Danish, bacon, eggs, and toast. One by one, her sisters noted her arrival, and conversation ground to a halt.
Serena, the second oldest, arched a brow at Kass’s battle dress. “My, you’re awfully sharp this morning.”
“Am I not supposed to be?” Placing a hand on the hilt of her sword, she scowled in annoyance. “This is how I always look when I fight—or when I escort a warrior to Valhalla.”
The five hellions exchanged glances around the table.
Millicent grumped, “That slave of yours tells you everything. Someone needs to take him in hand.”
“Touch a hair on Taryn’s head and I’ll scalp yours,” Kass promised. “And strangle you with it.” A couple of them snickered, and Millicent glared.
“Anyway, it is your turn to escort a worthy warrior,” Serena said, interceding before the fight could get warmed up. “The trip will do you a world of good.”
Kass advanced into the room. “I smell five rats. Since when do you sit around, worrying over what’s good for me and what isn’t?” Silence. “What do you know that I don’t?”
Serena stood and patted her arm. “Nothing, dearest, other than the name of the male and his location. His name is Luc Fontaine, and he’ll meet his end very soon—this morning, in fact. Odin says he’s on the Fates’ list, and you know how he hates to be kept waiting for his new recruits. Will you escort Lord Fontaine?”
“Lord? He’s a vampire?” Kass asked in confusion.
“That’s right.”
“But…Odin doesn’t take vampires! At least, he never has before.” She puzzled over that one. The temperamental god had never believed vampires worthy of his hallowed halls. Why this one? Then she
shrugged. The gods were strange at best, lethal at their worst, and devious everywhere between. “I’ll take him.”
“You give your word as a Valkyrie?”
A chill of dread seeped into her spine, though she couldn’t say why. What difference could this simple task make? What game was her sister playing? To refuse would blight her name, and another sister would be assigned to the task anyway.
“I give my word.”
And if she broke it, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
So she’d follow through. It was that simple.
Lifting his chin, Luc Fontaine inhaled as his horse walked at a sedate pace.
He loved riding. He always had, even as a young boy in the late 1600s, years before he and his brothers had reached full vampire maturity. He probably should’ve stuck around the mansion, with his oldest brother, Aldric, gone on business and the middle one, Soren, under the thumb of that skanky voodoo witch he’d brought home. Leila Doucet. Just thinking her name made his skin crawl. There was something seriously wrong with that female.
But the lure of a relaxing ride, getting away from their pleasure resort for a bit, had called to him. He had to laugh a little at the idea. What sane vampire actually looked forward to escaping from a constant feast of all the sex and blood he wanted? What was this restless longing in his soul, this urge to look for something he couldn’t name?
He shook his head at his own weirdness. Whatever, he wouldn’t be gone long.
The pungent aroma of the forest flooded his honed senses. Earth, pine, water—and animal. Warm, pulsing blood. Normally the scent would call to him and make his fangs itch, but something was off. The birds had stopped singing. Nothing moved.
Except a telltale footstep, not quite muffled in the undergrowth. A creature walked here this late afternoon. Something very close…and fucking large. He drew his mount to a halt. Listened.
He felt a shift in the air. More footsteps crunched in the foliage behind his shoulder. Coming closer. Shit. What the hell was that? The horse underneath him quivered, straining at the bit, anxious to be gone—probably a good idea.
