“I’m not afraid of dying. My sacrifice will be for the greater good.” She smiled back, knowing—or at least thinking—she had me. Hadn’t anyone ever told her not to taunt Death?
“You may not be afraid of dying,” I said, shifting my energy again. I reappeared inside her cell, enjoying the way she jumped backwards in surprise. “But does your family feel the same way? Are they so willing to die for your cause?” Fear widened her eyes. My grin turned into a full smile.
“You can’t,” she gasped. “It’s against the rules.”
I leaned forward, invading her personal space. Whispering, I said, “As you know, I don’t give a fuck about rules.” To prove my point, I placed my palm over her heart. Her already wide eyes grew even wider as her mouth fell open on a breathless gasp. White wisps began to lift from her skin, twirling around my hand like a snake.
“I don’t have to take your soul all at once,” I told her. “I’ll take it a piece at a time. You’ll feel like you’re being ripped apart. Are you prepared to endure that torture? Are you prepared to have your family pay for your crimes?” More of her soul lifted from her body, thickening around my arm. Her eyes shot to the white mist, so full of fear that tears trailed paths down her cheeks.
“Your boss didn’t tell you about this part, did they?” I smirked.
I released my hold over her and sent her soul back to her body. Her shoulders curled inward as she inhaled sharply as though coming up for air after being submerged.
“What are you doing to her?” the vampire called.
“Do you want me to show you?” I asked him. His head shook back and forth so rapidly that he blurred for a moment. “Then mind your own business.”
Using one hand, I rubbed the stubble lining my jaw as I stared down at Ms. Willow. She had stumbled back until her legs hit the cot, and then she fell onto the thin mattress. Her bony hands trembled beside her thighs.
“Dorian.”
Fuck. I looked up to find Micah in the doorway, his ocher eyes glowing in anger. Werewolves were so much fun to piss off.
“You’re interfering with a police investigation. Unless you want to move into the cell next door to Ms. Willow, you’d better leave.”
I released an exaggerated heavy sigh and stared down at Ms. Willow. “Name?”
“Now, Mr. Hade,” Micah ordered.
Keeping eye contact with the witch, I said, “Fine. I have to pay some other people a visit anyway.” As I turned to leave, the springs in the cot creaked.
“Wait,” Ms. Willow called.
I spared her a look over my shoulder and waited. I wasn’t really going to torture her family, but she didn’t know that. Her emotions for them were enough to get her to cave. Stupid.
“Hecate.”
I was not expecting that. “The goddess of spirits and night apparitions?”
Ms. Willow nodded, falling back onto the cot. She hung her head as though disappointed in herself. Or maybe she feared she had disappointed Hecate; the mother of witchcraft. This was worse than I thought.
SOMETIME AROUND ONE in the morning, I felt Dorian climb into my bed. I guess this was going to be a regular thing. I couldn’t say that I minded. He sidled up behind me, his bare chest pressing against my back while his arm slid over my waist and held me to him. He dipped his head toward mine, inhaling the scent of my hair. His fingers formed a fist, bunching my shirt within his grasp.
Slowly, he trailed his hand below the covers and over my thighs. His fingers raked over my skin, igniting electricity and desire. Heat pooled between my legs as my eyes slipped closed and devoured the sensation. I hadn’t seen him all day and didn’t realize how much that bothered me until this moment. Being around him, feeling his hands on me, grounded me. Though I didn’t know who I was, I knew how I felt when Dorian was beside me. The feelings I had for this beautiful and dark stranger gave me a sense of normalcy.
His fingers caressed a path along my inner thigh, silently begging me to open up to him, while his lips pressed kisses along my bare shoulder. I tilted my head back to see him, to look into those stormy eyes, and Dorian captured my mouth without warning. He flicked his tongue along the seam of my lips, nipping at my bottom lip before my jaw slackened and invited him in. When our tongues twisted a white-hot need shot through my body. His kisses caused icy chills that flowed from the top of my head all the way down to my curling toes.
Dorian’s hand sunk between my thighs, cupping my sex. My legs fell open, welcoming his touch, needing it. Despite his major mistake and the fact I couldn’t remember him, I still wanted him. There was something about him that beckoned to me, reeled me in and captured me completely.
The hand between my legs didn’t move, didn’t provoke the need he had created. He just held me, cupping me while his mouth tasted me. I could feel him lengthen and harden behind me, his erection pressing against my behind.
Dorian broke away from my lips and stared down at me. Swirling gray clouds twisted through his sockets, darkening around the edges. Only the shift of his eyelashes told me that he was studying my face, focusing on different details.
“I don’t know what this is,” he said, his voice genuinely mystified, “but I think I’ve been waiting for it my entire existence, waiting for you.” The hand cupping my sex came up to trace my jawline so softly that I couldn’t be sure he was really touching me. He traced the pad of his finger along the plump flesh of my bottom lip before he leaned down and slid his tongue into my mouth again, removing his finger and kissing me with such fervor I squeezed my thighs together to pacify the building ache.
In one fluid motion, he flipped me over so that I lay lengthwise along his body. His hands skimmed up either side of my waist and then trailed down to cup my behind. Strong fingers caressed my legs, pulling them forward so that they rested on either side of his waist. Sitting up, he wrapped an arm around my waist and used his other hand to lift my tank top over my head. His mouth closed over a hardened nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. My back arched, sending my lower region to grind against his erection. A deep growl vibrated through his throat at the connection.
Tonight he showed no hesitation toward me, no second thought as he sucked, kissed, and licked my breasts. And I couldn’t seem to find that earlier hesitation from last night. Tonight, all I could focus on was the way he had looked at me, the way he had crawled into bed and held me against him as though being beside me gave him peace. Something had changed tonight and, while I wondered what, I didn’t want to break the spell he put me under to ask.
Lifting me, Dorian laid me back onto the mattress as he had last night. The strength of his arms, the ease in which he could position me as he chose, amplified my already heady want for him. His eyes settled on my face while his hands worked my pajama shorts off my legs. Even when I was fully nude, his stare never broke away from my face. I was so entranced in the storm clouds rolling through his eyes that I hadn’t even noticed he had disrobed himself, too. The tip of his erection teased the entrance of my silky folds, already wet from the sheer magnetism of him. It was intoxicating, this thing between us. He skimmed one hand up my arm until his fingers interlocked with mine. Pushing forward, he buried himself inside of me and, for a moment, I saw stars from the exquisite feel of our bodies connecting. I was already tiptoeing the edge, wobbling on shaky legs and on the verge falling into the euphoric oblivion.
Heat pooled in my abdomen when he began to roll his hips slowly against me, pressing kisses to my skin. The soft brush of his hair against my breasts felt like another pair of hands. I raked my nails against the sinewy ridges cording his shoulders, feeling the flex of muscles working beneath my palm.
Dorian withdrew from me painfully slow, pushing forward in the same manner over and over. My eyes rolled into my skull, delirious with pleasure. The pressure built with each thrust of his hips, within reach but not attainable yet.
I wrapped my legs around his hard waist so he could push deeper. The movement caused another sexy groan out of
Dorian, one that fueled me further. Slipping his hands beneath my waist, he picked me up and fell back on the bed so that now I was on top. The man was a flippin’ acrobat in the bedroom. My breasts pressed against his chest while he kissed up my throat and guided my hips against him.
An explosion of electric tingles exploded from between my thighs, traveling down my legs and rendering them useless. I clenched around Dorian’s length as the last tendrils of orgasm traveled through my boneless body, and felt him twitch inside of me moments later.
I stayed plastered to his body, my arms twined around his neck while I breathed against his skin. I could still taste him on my mouth, now mixed with the scent of sweat. His hand came up and cradled the back of my head as he held me to him.
“I missed you today.” Dorian’s soft voice echoed through my room. Leaning back, he looked at my face, his eyelashes fluttering as he searched for something there.
“I missed you, too,” I heard myself saying and realized that I had actually missed him. All day I wondered what he was doing, and why he hadn’t included me in it. If he was searching for a way to fix my memories, shouldn’t I have been with him?
“Did you find out anything new today?” I asked, aware that he was still inside of me, still semi-hard.
The lowering of his lashes told me he was looking down, away from my face. Did he have bad news? What was worse than what I’d learned today?
Looking back up, he produced a small smile. “No, I didn’t learn anything new today. I just helped the spirit walkers with extracting expired souls.” His hand came up and caressed the side of my face while he leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. A sense of unease nagged my mind. He was hiding something.
I felt him fully harden inside of me again while he pressed kisses along my skin and hands roamed against my back. He was distracting me and, just for tonight, I would let him.
The scent of bacon wafted into my bedroom, waking me from one of the best night’s sleep I’d had since losing my memories. My eyelids slowly peeled open as I came back to reality. Warmth pressed against my back, a strong arm holding me against a hard chest. Dorian. Flashes of memory from last night played through my mind: the feel of his hands guiding my hips, the taste of his mouth, the feel of flexing muscles under my hands, fingers raking against skin.
Sliding out from under Dorian’s arm, I softly fell to the floor before standing up. Early morning light filtered through my window, lending enough light for me to search for clothes. I slipped on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a Broomsticks T-shirt. Just as I was turning to tiptoe toward the door to the bathroom, Dorian’s voice sounded and made me jump.
“You wouldn’t be doing the walk of shame, would you?”
That caused me to smile, considering this was my bedroom and my apartment. “No, I’m doing the bathroom walk.” Dorian still lay on his side, an arm tucked under the pillow. His hair fell against his sleepy face, while the blanket draped only over his hips. My eyes perused his chest and washboard abs, utter perfection lying in my bed like a wet dream come to life.
“You keep looking at me like that,” Dorian said, his voice either raspy from sleep or desire, “and you won’t make it out of this room.”
While I entertained the idea of shucking my clothes and climbing back into bed, my bladder reminded me that I needed the bathroom. Pity.
Once in the bathroom, I took care of business, and then brushed my teeth and splashed water over my face. Staring at my reflection, I studied my face in hopes of recognizing it. My blue eyes were bright, my dark hair a fizzy mess of tangles. Frowning, I combed my fingers through the strands in the hopes of taming it a little. Giving up, I put it up in a messy ponytail, oddly okay with looking less than sexy in front of Dorian.
Exiting the bathroom, I made my way down the hall to the kitchen. Ethan stood in front of the stove, flipping pieces of bacon in one pan while cooking pancakes in another. I inhaled deeply, my mouth watering. I frowned when I realized that the food was probably intended for Fiona and not me. Making my way over to the coffeepot, I poured a cup and added lots of sugar and creamer.
“Morning,” I said to Ethan, noting the time on the microwave: 7:12A.M. Why the hell am I up this early?
“Morning,” Ethan said, his eyes giving me an up down before returning toward the stove. I stared down at my clothes and shrugged. He was probably used to Fiona wearing lacy or matching pajamas. Good thing I wasn’t trying to impress him.
“Want some food?” Ethan asked as I sat at the table.
“Really?” I asked, bewildered by his kindness. I was sure he didn’t like me. Dorian padded down the hall, wearing only his pajama pants moments later. My eyes savored his sculpted chest and rippling stomach. He and Ethan exchanged a look, Ethan’s facial features tightening. Add Dorian to the list of people he didn’t like. At least the feelings were mutual. Other than Fiona, I wasn’t sure he liked anyone.
“Yeah, I made too much,” Ethan said in explanation.
Dorian sat beside me, staring into his cup of coffee. He rested his elbows on the table, fingers laced with each other. Taking a sip of my too-hot coffee, I tried to ignore the thickening tension in the kitchen. Having these two men in the same room was almost scary. I kept waiting for a fight to break out and Dorian to take it a step too far. Would he kill him?
Ethan turned with two plates and eyed Dorian and me. His eyes focused on my face. “After everyone is done eating and ready for the day we should talk about last night’s discussion.” Then he headed down the hall and disappeared into Fiona’s room. Bringing Fiona breakfast in bed kicked him up a notch in my mind, if only a little.
“What discussion?” Dorian asked, his voice harder than the muscles distracting me. Standing, I headed toward the left over bacon. If anything could distract me further, it was bacon. Dorian wasn’t going to like the story Ethan had told me; it had ended in death. And, while he assured me it wasn’t the same thing, I knew the spirit walkers he hired to extract souls should also be extracting mine. Dorian’s feelings for me clouded his judgment. He was too close to the situation, too close to me, to do what was right.
When I spun around, I almost smacked into Dorian’s chest. He braced his arms on the counter, caging me in.
“What’s going on, cupcake?”
I chewed the bacon, choosing to stare at his chest rather than into his smoky eyes. I shrieked when Dorian lifted me up and sat me on the counter. His fingers skimmed along my legs as he pressed himself between my thighs.
“We’re a team, right?” He spoke softly, infusing the air between us with a different type of tension. Finally, I looked up and met his gaze. He had his head tilted to the side. The tightness of his mouth accentuated the slope of his jaw. His fingers gripped my hips tightly, but not painfully. He held onto me as though afraid I’d disappear before his eyes.
“Are we?” I asked, remembering how it had seemed like he was hiding something from me last night.
His head jerked backwards as though taken aback by my question. “Of course we are, Gwen. Why would you even doubt that? I’m the only one searching for a solution that doesn’t result in your death.”
I placed a hand against his chest and looked up at him through my lashes. “Aren’t I already dead, though?” When he began to speak, I slipped a finger over his mouth to hush his protests. “What you did wasn’t right, Dorian. It’s…I’m screwing up the balance and causing weird things in Flora. I don’t want to put people’s lives in danger.” I had spent a good portion of last night thinking about the story Ethan told me, wondering if I had the guts to surrender my life for the greater good. I still didn’t know. It was a little difficult contemplating the end of my life, never seeing Fiona or Dorian again. But could I live knowing others were affected by my existence?
Dorian reached up and tugged my hand away from his mouth. “Please don’t speak like that. This life, my existence…you need to live. I will find a way to fix this. You just need to have as much faith in me as I do you
. Can you do that?”
“But—”
Dorian mimicked my technique and shushed me with a finger. “No buts, I will find a way to fix what I’ve done. I’m not losing you for anything.”
You had to admire his dedication, among other things. His hands fell down to cup my behind. Pulling, he brought me to the edge of the counter and leaned in so that our mouths were mere inches apart.
“Now, what story did Ethan tell you?” His breath fanned across my lips, surprisingly minty rather than morning-breath-gross. That was a plus. With reluctance, I told him everything Ethan had told us last night and watched his facial features for anger. After I was done, his eyelids slipped closed on a long blink.
“Did he happen to mention what the NAWC’s plans were? Are they coming to Flora?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t say,” I told him. “Now it’s your turn. You learned something last night, didn’t you?” My eyes fell over his shoulder to my forgotten cup of coffee. Dorian glanced over his shoulder, and chuckling, retrieved it for me.
“You know, I could just get down and sit back at the table like a normal person.”
“You could,” Dorian agreed, “but I like seeing you on the counter with your legs spread.” His sensual mouth curled up in a smirk. My mug was halfway to my mouth, my hand stilling at his words before I shook myself out of it and swallowed a gulp of luke-warm coffee.
“Stop trying to distract me,” I warned. “I told you my news; now it’s your turn. We’re a team, remember?”
Dorian bobbed his head. “Just do me a favor,” he said. “Let’s keep this information between you and me, okay? I know Fiona’s your best friend, but I trust Ethan about as much as a demon.”
I don’t know why, but hearing demons existed surprised me. After everything, it was a miracle anything could surprise me. “Okay,” I agreed. While Ethan had been civil last night and this morning, there was still something about him that put me on edge.
I reached for another piece of bacon, taking a bite and savoring the saltiness. Holding it out to Dorian, I laughed when his mouth opened and he ate the entire piece from my hand. Grabbing another slice, I half turned to keep him from stealing it from me. If there were ever a reason to murder someone, it would be for the theft of bacon. Bacon paired with coffee was what I liked to refer to as Morning Crack.
Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4) Page 11
