She licked the end of one ragged scar and leaned her cheek against his chest.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Antoine... but don’t pretend you don’t want me... or this.” Her hand skated down over his stomach and his desire flared right back up when her soft palm cupped his hard cock through his black trousers. His breathing hitched and his jaw tensed, a hot flood of arousal sweeping through his veins and ratcheting his desire up to a whole new level. “This says you do.”
Those four words were whispered against his chest and he couldn’t deny the truth in them. He did want her. He didn’t want this to end, whatever this was, even though he knew it would, whether he ended it before he got hurt or she ended it and hurt him.
“Let me taste you, Antoine. Stop fighting me.” She pressed more soft kisses to his chest, her fingers toying with his nipples and then raking down his stomach towards his belt.
Where had this vixen come from? She had been bold before, but this was different. He fixed his senses on her and could still feel her fear. She was scared, but not of him. She feared this wouldn’t work and he wouldn’t succumb to her advances. It wasn’t because she wanted a job on his stage. It was because she wanted him. Her desire wasn’t an act.
It was real.
Just like his.
He closed his eyes when she undid his trousers, slipped her hand inside and drew his erect cock out. His breath hissed through his teeth and he tensed, her touch fire and bliss. He couldn’t hold out against her much longer. His defences were dropping with each passing second and now he teetered on the edge of surrendering to her seduction.
It wasn’t an act.
Just as he had lost awareness of their location, so had she. Her focus was so fixed on him and he thrilled at the feel of it, could sense her so clearly, and her pleasure. That alone intoxicated him as she shimmied off his lap to kneel before him and lowered her mouth, taking him into it. He groaned, jaw clamped tightly and body taut, rigid with need. Sera’s warmth encompassed him, slick and wet, tongue expertly teasing him, tearing groan after moan from his throat.
Antoine gripped the arms of the seat and tipped his head right back, shallowly thrusting his hips as she sucked him. Devil, it was game over. His goddess had gone to war on his defences and was now assured of her victory. She was barely on him for ten seconds before he exploded in her mouth, unable to stop himself from climaxing. She moaned and he struggled to catch his breath, the riot of ecstasy rushing through him scattering his senses and making his mind swim. It had been too long since he had found such a numbing release that he wasn’t sure how to ease himself down from his high. He wasn’t certain that he could even if he did know.
Before he could savour the bliss she had given him, cold awareness crept in at the corners of his mind, gaining ground with each rapid pound of his heart, until reality settled hard on him.
His sense of control snapped back into place.
Sera lifted her head and looked up into his eyes.
Antoine scowled down at her.
CHAPTER 6
Sera looked up at Antoine the moment she felt the change in him, sensed that the connection that had flared into life between them had been shut down in an instant. She could see it in his eyes too. The past hour with him had revealed something to her that she had never anticipated.
Antoine was a man with deep secrets, a man who didn’t allow anyone to get close to him and who believed he had a good reason for remaining distant and alone. She was a fool for not seeing it before. Elizabeth had warned her about Antoine, but it seemed even her sire didn’t know the man well or she would have mentioned that something terrible had happened to him, something he would never overcome.
Could never overcome.
The scars on his chest were shocking. It took a lot to kill an aristocrat, especially one as old as Antoine, but it looked as though someone had tried to put the limit of his healing ability to the test. Who had done such a terrible thing to him?
It wasn’t only the scars on the outside that made him retain a sense of distance from everyone though. There were others on the inside, emotional scars that were as ragged and horrendous as the ones on his body as far as she could tell.
He was definitely a man with secrets, and he wasn’t willing to share them with anyone.
Sera raised her hand, wanting to touch his face and tell him that whatever pain he had gone through, he could tell her about it. She would listen to him, never judging, only seeking to alleviate the burden on his heart so he no longer felt as though he had to walk through this world alone.
Antoine leaned back and warily eyed her hand, as though she sought to hurt rather than comfort him.
Game over.
She might have managed to make him surrender to his desire, but there was no way she could defeat the demons that held his heart captive. She didn’t want a hollow affair with him. If she couldn’t have all of him, she would rather have nothing at all.
Sera stood, walked to her clothes and slipped into her underwear. Her plan to dress completely before calmly taking her leave became impossible to fulfil when Antoine’s icy gaze slid to her, tracking her every move. She grabbed the rest of her clothes, bundling them up in her arms, and flicked a dark glare his way before striding up the aisle towards one of the rear exits.
She made it halfway to the doors before turning around and storming back down to him.
“I just want to know why you shut me out again? Were you just out to use me or was this really just an audition?” Her voice hitched. It hurt to say that. She laughed bitterly at herself. “Forget it. I was stupid to think that someone like you could ever care about anyone but yourself. I’ve learned my lesson. Goodbye, Antoine.”
Brave words. She congratulated herself on them as she stalked towards the exits, swiftly now despite her trembling legs and the adrenaline pumping through her veins, determined to escape before her nerve failed. It was better this way. Antoine would never give her what she wanted from him, what she needed, so there was no point in torturing herself by trying to win him over.
Sera was close to the doors, could almost taste her freedom, when she looked up to find Antoine blocking the exit ahead of her.
“Move,” she said on a snarl.
He didn’t.
She turned at the end of the rows of red velvet seats, aiming for the other exit further along the back wall of the theatre. Antoine was there again before she could reach it. He had moved faster than she had been able to see. She stopped, a touch of fear in her blood now. She had heard that aristocrats, those of pure vampire blood, were more powerful than elites, and Antoine’s age only added to the strength of his abilities.
He growled and stalked towards her, his eyebrows knitted into a scowl and darkness in his eyes.
No anger hit her senses but she wasn’t going to hang around to ask what he was feeling behind his violent expression or place herself within striking distance.
Sera backed off, keeping pace with him. She bumped into the seats on one side of the aisle that led down into the stalls and threw a glance at the exit doors to her left. Antoine was there again, stopping her mid-lunge, and forcing her down the aisle. She kept her eyes locked on him, her senses zeroed there too, and kept backing away.
Her attempt to flee hit an obstacle a short time later. Namely, the stage.
She pressed back against it, her senses sweeping the theatre, searching for another avenue of escape. The doors to her right and left were out of the question. Antoine would easily reach them before she could. Her strength couldn’t compare with his, so fighting and subduing him wasn’t going to happen either.
The only place that might offer her a chance of escape was the stage. She knew from the shows that there were doors to the left and right of it. They led backstage, which was a danger all in itself. God only knew who was back there, waiting in the wings. She had no desire to run into Victor again, not when she was only wearing her underwear.
“Sera,” Antoine growled and she
swallowed.
He shot towards her and she vaulted onto the stage. He slammed chest first into the wooden stage and unleashed a feral and vicious growl. Sera dropped her clothes and went for the heavy red curtain that covered the rear half of the stage, intent on making it to the doors there.
Antoine tackled her just as she reached the velvet curtain, sending them both flying through it to the other side. She rolled painfully, legs tangling with his, and grunted when she hit something hard. One of the couches. Pain shot through her left shoulder and then she was on her back with both of her hands pinned above her head.
His cool breath washed over her face. “Why are you running from me, Sera?”
Why not? The look of cold disdain that had been in his eyes was reason enough as far as she was concerned. The fact that she had brought him to climax and he had shut her out the moment he had found release was another. To top off those two, she added a third.
“You’re scaring me.”
Sera looked up at him, feeling the weight of his body against hers. His open silver shirt draped over her and tickled her bare sides and his trousers were soft against her legs. He released one wrist and trailed his fingers over her cheek, and her eyes rose to meet his. Her fear of seeing the coldness in them melted under the warmth of his expression and the heat of the hunger in his blue eyes.
She didn’t know how to react when he lowered his head and kissed her, hard and dominant, forcing her mouth open with his tongue. It tangled with hers, cool and teasing, luring her into submission. She surrendered willingly, melting beneath him into the scuffed black stage, letting him lead as the kiss turned heated and passionate, a rough clashing of lips and teeth. Before she could think about what she was doing, she was raising her head off the stage, leaning into the kiss, seeking more from him.
Wasn’t she supposed to be angry with him about something?
It popped back into her head.
He was obviously using her. He was never going to give her what she truly craved from him. He would seek shallow satisfaction from her, an emotionless sexual relationship, and she wouldn’t be able to take it. She wasn’t made for that sort of thing. She couldn’t. The attraction she felt for him would blossom into something terrible, something that would end up killing her when he finally tired of her and cast her aside.
Sera slammed her fist into the side of his head, knocking him off her and into the red velvet couch beside them. She was on her feet before he could react, leaving him sitting on the floor.
“You are driving me crazy,” he whispered, his eyes ringed by red and fixed on her. He touched the bloom of crimson on his cheek where she had struck him and smiled grimly. At least it wasn’t a forced smile. It was as real as they came, if not a little frightening. What was he thinking in there? Did she drive him crazy in a good way, or a really bad way?
Was it wise to anger an aristocrat?
Antoine got to his feet, dusted down his black trousers, frowning at them, and then raised his head and looked straight back into her eyes.
At least the red had gone from his irises.
He raked his fingers through his thick dark brown hair. It was hard not to stare at the strip of body on view between the two sides of his open silver-grey shirt as he moved, his muscles flexing in a symphony so beautiful it would melt the hardest of hearts.
“Sera.” He spoke her name on a sigh, a soft exhalation that made it sound like a prayer to God, a plea for salvation.
She would give it to him if he only asked it of her. She would share the burden that weighed him down. He only had to speak to her and let her in. He only had to give up his fight.
Sera stood her ground as he approached, his steps slow and cautious, as though he feared she would either lash out at him or bolt again should he move any faster. She probably would. When he reached her, he brushed his knuckles across her cheek, curled his fingers around the nape of her neck, tangling them in her blonde hair, and lured her in for the softest kiss she had ever experienced.
It only lasted a bare second before he broke away to press his forehead to hers, their noses touching. He breathed hard, his chest brushing hers with each deep inhalation, and his fingers tightened against the nape of her neck, as though that brief kiss had been too much for him. It had been too much for her. The pleasure of it had been overwhelming, consuming, and devastating. Her heart pounded, the beat as fast as the one in her mind. Antoine’s.
“Sera,” he whispered, supplicating her again, and she wished she knew what he wanted when he said her name that way so she could give it to him. He sighed. “I do not want to hurt you.”
That was good. She didn’t want that either. She could definitely go along with that.
He stroked her cheek with his other hand and pressed his forehead harder against hers. His fingers clutched the back of her neck, his emotions taking a turn for the worse on her senses, so they blared in alarm. Danger. That wasn’t good.
“Antoine?” she said, hoping to bring him back from whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him.
He growled. “I do not want to hurt you... but I do not want to end up hurt, either.”
Sera reacted on instinct the second an immense wave of pain crashed over him and into her. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pressing one hand against his shoulder blade and the other against the back of his head. He was surprisingly compliant, not fighting her as she moved and pulled him closer, so his head settled in the crook of her neck. His other arm snaked around her, fingers pressing in deeply, clutching her to him.
She frowned.
He was trembling.
What terrible scars did his heart bear?
She wanted to ask him that question but it would only drive him away.
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and then another, and worked towards her throat. She tipped her head to one side, letting him have his way, enjoying the softness of his mouth on her. He licked her, pressing his tongue into the line of her vein, and she moaned. Questions burned in her mind, things she needed answers to and was sure would give her clues as to how to unlock his heart. She wasn’t brave enough to stop him and pose them. If she did, she would ruin the moment. He wouldn’t answer them anyway. He wasn’t a man who would do as others ordered. He did everything on his own terms. If he wanted to tell her, then he would, in his own time.
For now, she was satisfied with the knowledge that he didn’t want to hurt her, and that part of his distance was because he too didn’t want to be hurt by someone.
Again.
“Antoine.” It was supposed to have come out as a question but it came out as a moan instead. He nibbled her throat with blunt teeth, froze and swallowed hard, and then pulled aside to drop kisses on her bare shoulder instead. He hooked his fingers into the straps of her navy bra and pulled them down her arms.
Her hands moved to mimic him, pushing at his shirt so it fell away from his shoulders at the same time as he unhooked her bra and cast it aside. She tugged each sleeve off his arms and opened her eyes, intent on kissing her way across his shoulder and running her fingers over his muscled arms, and paused.
The scars continued on his arms, thick and pronounced, some of them so deep that they had pulled the muscle into a strange distorted shape. Sera went to touch one. Antoine growled and pulled away, scooped his shirt off the floor and put it back on, covering his body.
Shielding himself from her inquisitive eyes.
“Antoine,” she whispered, as softly as she could, trying to show him that she hadn’t intended to question him about the scars again and that he didn’t need to hide them from her.
He turned his back on her and hung his head.
“Not quite what you thought I would look like?” he bit out on a dark snarl. “I bet you imagined me perfect, skin as flawless as your own, beautiful... not hideous.”
That had her feet moving. She came up behind him and slowly placed her hands on his shoulders so she didn’t startle him. She swept her palms over them, feeling
their strength, and then back again, to his neck. There, she slipped her hands into his collar and started to lower his silver-grey shirt again, revealing inch after inch of scars on his back. He tensed.
Sera tiptoed and kissed each scar, from the ones that were barely a scratch to the ones that had damaged muscle irreparably. He didn’t pull away. He remained motionless, rigid, his breathing shallow and controlled. When her hands reached his, she tugged the cuffs of his shirt over them and then removed it completely. She tossed it away from them, onto one of the red velvet sofas that were part of the stage set, so he couldn’t reach for it and hide from her again.
He began to relax as she continued to kiss and lick his skin, worshipping him, hoping to make him see that she thought he was beautiful, not hideous. While she might have imagined flawless perfection as he had said, this revelation wasn’t one that lessened the ferocity of her attraction to him. Each scar was a story that she wanted to know, a memory that she wanted to hear so she could take away the pain he associated with it and could learn to love himself again.
She had been wrong about him.
He didn’t love himself at all.
Sera slipped her arms under his and settled her hands on his chest at the same time as she rested her cheek against his strong back. She closed her eyes, her bare torso pressed against his cool skin, and held him in silence, hoping that he could feel every emotion that he stirred in her. He was old and powerful enough to sense such things without skin contact. With it, he should be able to read her clearly. He should be able to feel that she still desired him, that she wished she could ease his pain and make him feel loved and beautiful. She ached for him.
Antoine shifted, his right hand settling over hers. She expected him to remove it from his chest but he held it there, pressed against him. He was taking the comfort she was offering. It was a start. Much better than the rejection she had anticipated at least.
She slipped her hands down from his chest to settle on his waist and began to kiss his back again, working her way around him and paying close attention to the deepest scar that had deformed the biceps and deltoid of his left arm. When she reached the groove between the hard slabs of his pectorals, she rested her lips there, feeling his heart beating steadily against them. She breathed him in, liking the subtle fragrance of his strong blood that laced his cologne.
Dark and Dangerous: Six-in-One Hot Paranormal Romances Page 93
