Lucinda, Dangerously

by Sunny

  “You need another minute?” Her voice was not as innocent or as bland as it should have been.

  He turned slowly to find, to his relief, that it was safe to look at her now. Her sinfully curved body was hidden beneath the bed covers. Only her stunning face, the gentle slope of her shoulders, and uncovered arms could be seen. Temptation enough. But much easier to bear.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said as he joined her under the covers.

  She made a sound that was perilously close to a giggle. “I have to confess. It’s hugely flattering.”

  “Nothing different than how any other male looking at you would react.”

  “But it’s not any other male. It’s you looking at me, reacting that way, that pleases me so.”

  “Lucinda.” Her name came out a low groan. “Are you sure we can’t . . .”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sorry . . . the others. They would be able to hear us.”

  “Let them! The only one whose sensibilities I care to protect is Jonnie; he won’t be able to hear us. The others should have more manners than to listen in.”

  “It’s not so easy to tune things out when everyone is so close and no other sounds are being made,” she said with soft regret. “Are you in much discomfort?”

  “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms.

  “Won’t that make it worse for you?”

  “Not as bad as not touching you would be.”

  She lay curled against his chest. Her body, though, didn’t relax.

  “Does it bother you? Being this close to me?”

  “A little. But like you said, it’s not as bad as not touching you would be.” She snuggled close, tried to find a more comfortable spot against his shoulder.

  “I can go back to my room if it bothers you,” he valiantly offered.

  “Why?”

  “My beating heart. Being so near my blood.”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Yes, that. Being so near your food. Are you hungry?” he asked. “Do you need to feed?”

  She leaned back, leveled him a reproving glance beneath her lashes. “You are not my food; I don’t think of you that way. And no, it doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you, having my nails and teeth so near you?”

  “Don’t be silly,” he said, and then grimaced. “I guess that applies to me also.” Sighing, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, and pulled her back to rest against him. “I like being here, holding you like this. You feel so warm.”

  “You feel cool. And no,” she said before he could ask, “it doesn’t bother me. It feels good.”

  A few more heartbeats passed.

  “Are you tired?” asked Stefan.

  “Yes, but I don’t think I can sleep right away. Can we talk for a little bit?”

  “Only if you don’t mind doing most of the talking. I thought you were going to return Talon to his people. What happened down in Hell?”

  She explained while she lay there nestled against him, the complicated story of how they had tried to deliver Talon back to his kind, and had been violently surrounded and captured by the distrustful Floradëurs. How the bond had gifted her with the new ability to transform into dragon, and fly with the others on her back to safety.

  Stefan’s heart was pounding hard and fast by the end of the tale.

  “What’s wrong?” Lucinda said.

  “Nothing. Only that you almost perished, and that I almost lost you.” His hand buried itself in her long, abundant hair. Clenched into a trembling fist. “I thought the only danger to you was from Derek. Are the Floradëurs a threat to you also?”

  “No, they live rather far away. Highly unlikely for them to leave their territory and try to attempt the portals on demon land. It’s just Derek we have to worry about here. But we should be safe enough with Hari and Ruric. They are my father’s best men.”

  “The last two great warriors of the dragon clan, Lord Thorane said.”

  “They are last of our line, other than my father, brother, and myself,” she said sadly.

  “Are they enough to keep you safe?”

  “Yes. They’ll be able to sense another demon’s presence long before he gets close to us. As will I.”

  “Derek had an easy time getting close to you last time,” Stefan said darkly.

  “Last time I was quite distracted and wasn’t expecting him.” She had been dying actually, the second and final time. “Now we’re warned and much better prepared.”

  “How will they get the blood they need, your two demon guards?”

  Lucinda shifted against his shoulder, sighed. “One of the many things I have to take care of when we wake up. We’ll go into town, I guess, to a place where humans gather. Probably the bar.”

  “How often will they need to feed?”

  “I don’t know. It varies here. For myself, it’s usually just once a night.”

  “Here? As opposed to back in Hell?”

  He felt her nod. “Our metabolism slows down once we cross into this realm. Back home, we don’t just drink blood, we also eat two meals a day.”

  “Food?”

  “Yes, silly, we eat food. But blood is still our primary sustenance. While we’re in this realm, we only need our most basic blood requirement.”

  “How long can you stay in this realm before you need to return?”

  “Five days usually for me. Probably close to the same for Hari and Ruric, I’d guess; maybe a little longer. They’re older than I am. I was thinking of staying here for three days to get everyone settled, then returning with Hari, Nico, and Talon, while Ruric stays here with you and Jonnie. Hari can switch off with Ruric when we return a couple of days later.”

  “You don’t need to leave Ruric behind,” Stefan protested.

  “I won’t leave you and Jonnie unprotected here. Not while Derek is still roaming free.”

  “Then you need more guards. One demon isn’t enough to guard the three of you.”

  “You forgot to count me. It’s not one demon guarding three. Its two demons guarding two others.”

  Understanding came to Stefan then. “That’s why Ruric and Hari are here, from your point of view. To guard us. Not you.”

  “I would not have allowed my father to shackle them to me otherwise.”

  “Gently,” he admonished. “Remember. Long ears.”

  “Those long ears should be giving us the courtesy of not listening in on our conversation.”

  “Like you said. It’ll take a period of adjustment.” Odd finding himself in the role of trying to protect the feelings of two fierce demons. “I’m pretty sure, though, that’s not how Hari and Ruric see their duty, which is you, first and foremost, then Talon and Nico. Not me or Jonnie.”

  “Everyone here is of equal priority,” she said. “I’ll make sure they understand that.”

  He prudently changed the topic. “So you’ll take them out to hunt up some blood. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You do not need to seek out strangers,” he said, “not when you have Nico and me.”

  “I told you. I don’t think of you as my food.”

  “I am your lover.” He said the words with relish. “And I enjoy seeing to your needs. But since the lover part is put on hold for the moment, all that is left to me is the pleasure of feeding you. Drink my blood,” he urged. “Take what you need from me. The thought of you with other men that way . . .” He took a deep, steadying breath. “I do not like thinking of you drinking from other men, not when you can drink from me.”

  Hunger, blood hunger, was always there for Lucinda—for any demon. She would have to feed tonight. But why wait when waiting would only torment one who had come to mean so much to her.

  “Stefan,” she murmured as her body changed subtly against him. It was natural to slip into seductress mode when blood presented itself, even when it was knowingly offered and the prey before her willing. It was hard to stop her body’s natural instinct to beguile, to entice. S
he tried to restrain that part of her nature as much as she could, but could not completely cut off what was innate in her. She looked at him with hooded lids, the dark draw of her eyes more intense, the smile on her lips both lazier and sharper—mesmerizing, enthralling temptation.

  “You don’t need to seduce me,” Stefan murmured.

  “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just a natural reaction for me.” She shushed him when he started to say more. “Hush. Let me enjoy this.”

  He was amused and more than a bit seduced as he did as she bid him do—stay quiet and let her enjoy it. There was a more noticeably feline quality to her now, he thought. Then reconsidered. Knowing what her other form, what her other nature was—dragon—he could see it now in the sinuously elegant grace of her movements, the hypnotic allure of her eyes and body.

  Her mouth ghosted up his chest, slid to the curve of his neck, and his heart quickened, thrilling, despite himself. Her nostrils delicately flared as she scented him, scented the blood flowing so near the surface just beneath the skin.

  Without any other inducement, his body tightened, readying itself for her strike, her touch, her caress.

  A thrilling touch, the tiniest brush of her sharp fang against his skin, and a groan almost escaped him. He hadn’t foreseen how it would affect him, this building tension, the torturously pleasurable anticipation. And she was behaving herself, being good—restraining herself. Holding back the psychic powers she could have unleashed on him. But even without a single shot fired from that formidable arsenal, he was seduced by her—her closeness, her nearness. The potent focus of her desire on him, and what he could give her.

  Yes, he thought, drink from me.

  Another teasing brush of her fangs over the beat of his pulse. A gentle glide of her knuckles to turn his head to the side, stretch out the long smooth line of his neck. He felt anticipation tighten his body. Felt blood surge powerfully through him, filling him with throbbing tumescent need, the beat in his stiff organ echoing the frantic one hammering against his throat. It was terrible, wonderful, unbearable, this willing/unwilling rapture, the utterly carnal sensuality of her light graze over his sensitive skin like a threatening caress.

  “Bite me! Drink from me!” he urged hoarsely, his voice scraping thick and raw. His eyes closed against the overwhelming inundation of his senses from the light skim of her teeth, the press of her full breasts against his chest, the heat of her silky thighs smooth against his hair-roughened legs.

  With slow, savoring delight, her fangs slid in with sharp, clean precision, burying deep in his flesh, cutting neatly into his vein. He gave a strangled cry, unable to hold it back, powerless to stop the strong grip of his hands holding her to him as she drank from him in strong, sucking gulps that cut pleasure into him sharp as a knife, hot and sizzling. Filling him up, filling him up so hard that he felt as if he would explode with just a touch. But nothing touched him down there, nothing but air. He throbbed, he ached, he almost groaned, suspended on a stretched rack of aching desire and painful pleasure as he fed his lady. Fed her with his blood, with who he was, with all that his heart and body could offer her. Mine! he screamed inside. You’re mine. Just as I am yours.

  When he thought he could stand it no longer, when the pull of her lips against his throat made him dizzy with love and lust, aching pain, deep pleasure . . . she touched him, her palm against his turgid hardness. The slow press and grind of her opened hand against his throbbing erection . . . and he erupted. With light, with love, with everything that he was. He came in a dizzying onslaught of blurred emotion and sharp sensation, of spiking pleasure and shuddering ecstasy, all in a strangled, choked silence filled with the fast pounding of his heart, the harsh gusts of his breath, the fading light of his being.

  One final sweet sip of his blood and she released him.

  He breathed out a shaky imprecation. “That was even better than the first time you drank from me. You should restrain yourself more often,” he said with a very weak but pleased smile.

  “That didn’t hurt you too much, did it?” she asked, her face flushed with hectic color, her lips a fuller, darker red now.

  “Hardly at all. And that tiny bit only in a very good and delicious way.” He pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. “My thanks for drinking from me and not using any of your other powers while doing so.” If she had, their session would have been much noisier.

  Stefan cleaned up and slid back into bed, making a note to bring an extra pair of boxers for himself next time. Gathering Lucinda back into his arms, he saw with satisfaction that her face was soft and slumberous. His lady dragon was sated and replete.

  He gave a brief thought to the other men in the house. Wondered if they had listened, and the state they were in if they had.

  “Good night,” Stefan murmured. To her and any others that might be listening.

  “Good night,” she murmured in return, and tumbled sweetly into sleep in less time than it took for him to feel two of his slow heartbeats.

  SIX

  IT WAS ODD waking up to sound in the house. Heartbeats—two slow, one faster. The sound of breathing, of movement when usually all was still and silent here. Beneath that was an electrical hum. The refrigerator was plugged in and running.

  Overlaying all that was the new sensing of others. Not only of like to like, of demonkind—that I was used to—but also the new constant rub of Monère presence. That I was not used to. Odd that it didn’t flare up my hunger, those tantalizing beats of life and the even more tantalizing feel of their presence. Not just Monère but Floradëur. Then I remembered this morning. Remembered Stefan. He was already up, gone from the bed. I grimaced. How hungry the other demons must be, teased by my earlier feeding.

  Not nice. But better than the sounds of sex would have been.

  I rolled out of bed and dressed quickly, suddenly aware that I was responsible for feeding six other mouths, all of them with different needs. And there was nothing in the refrigerator, nothing in the house. Why should there be? Demons only drank blood, which was the only thing we were in current supply of here—walking, talking, pulsing founts of blood. I became more anxious at that thought.

  Hari and Ruric were among the oldest of our kind, presumably with the greatest control. Among my father’s men, the two of them had hardly glanced at Talon and his tempting Floradëur blood—one of the reasons why I had not fought my father too hard when he assigned them to me. But still, that control had to be a tentative thing when a demon was as hungry as they must be now.

  I rushed into the breakfast area and stopped short. Everyone else was there. Jonnie and Stefan sat at the small breakfast table, while Talon and Nico were perched on stools around the raised kitchen bar. Hari and Ruric stood outside on the covered porch.

  “Good eventide, Princess,” Nico greeted, and the others echoed him, even my stoic demon guards outside.

  My brows slanted up. “Are we being all polite and formal this evening?”

  “Nope,” answered Nico, giving me his trademark grin. “That was it. All the politeness for tonight. Did you sleep well, Princess?” He wagged his eyebrows, the look in his eyes suggestive and knowing. To my mortification, I felt warmth steal across my face. I was blushing more in these past few days than I’d ever blushed in my life and entire afterlife combined.

  “Like a rock. And you?”

  “Also like a rock,” he said with a leering twinkle in his eyes.

  My gaze almost dipped down to check out his statement. But I controlled myself, and was saved by the sound of a deep, powerful engine turning into the driveway. A long auto transport truck pulled up in front of the house a few moments later.

  My car and Stefan’s had arrived. Perfect timing.

  It took less than ten minutes to unload both cars and sign a receipt for mine. I had dashed back into the bedroom to grab a pair of gloves with hidden titanium cup shields secured at each fingertip. They made my fingers appear half an inch longer than they actually were, but kept my sharp nai
ls from slicing through the leather. Manipulating a pen with the gloves on wasn’t even awkward for me anymore; I’d had plenty of practice. I made a note to have some gloves made up for Hari and Ruric.

  It was almost six when the transport truck left. Removing my gloves, I turned to Ruric and asked him to hold out his hands. He did so without question, displaying nails that were thicker and longer than normal humans, curved lightly at the tip into sharp talon points. Those, distinctly above all our other features, declared us as Other. With the glide of my hand just above his fingertips, I smoothed away that telling feature, leaving behind normal human-looking fingernails in their place.

  “Is that real,” Jonnie asked, “what you just did?”

  “No, only illusion. His sharp nails are still there. Just not seen.”

  I called Talon next, and he peeled out of the dark shadows into which he had seamlessly merged and came to me. With a pass of my hand above his skin, I lightened his face, neck, hands, and wrists from pitch-black to a much lighter shade of brown. Another smooth pass over his eyes, and white sclera formed into definition. I left behind tingling energy upon his flesh, but he was not frightened or surprised. I had camouflaged him like this once before.

  Hari came next, but he did not obey blindly as the others had. “You expend valuable energy on illusion that will only last several fleeting hours,” he admonished.

  “Then we had better hurry up before it wears out,” I said with a dry smile. “Spread your hands, Hari.”

  He did so reluctantly. “Will you waste your energy like this every night?”

  “Until I can get some special gloves like mine made up for you and Ruric, yes.”

  “The gloves will take care of our demon nails, but what of the Floradëur?”

  “The Floradëur has a name, and I would prefer that you use it. Talon, I will continue to camouflage as often as needed.”

  Hari’s lips curled into a silent snarl, a frightening sight had the others been able to see it.

  I returned his look in silent challenge.

  Grudgingly he lowered his stormy eyes.