by Aubrey Ross
Caresse shot across the room, blouse forgotten as she caught Farren’s throat with her hand. She elongated her nails until they drew blood. “You conniving bastard! You knew all along that Desmond was helpless!”
The amusement shining in his blue eyes only stoked the flames of her anger. “You went along like a meek little lamb. It was almost as if you wanted to be humiliated in front of your mate. What did you hope to accomplish by provoking him like that? You were obviously shocked by his passivity. What did you expect him to do?”
“I expected him to rip out your fucking throat,” she sneered.
Before she realized his intent, he caught her arms and spun her around. She tugged against his hold, kicking back and twisting wildly. She was about to turn to mist and find Desmond when Farren nipped the side of her neck. “Stop struggling. With the push of a button I can release the poison in Desmond’s wristband. Do you want to lose your mate after all you’ve done to save him?”
“Are threats and intimidation the only tactics you know?” She jerked against his hands but he held her firmly, arms crossed at the small of her back.
“We have many strategies. These are just the least damaging.”
“Let. Go.” She stopped struggling and waited for his grip to loosen.
“We have a better idea.” Farren’s voice grew low and sensual. “Orris and Roman watched while you pleasured this body. Now we will watch while they pleasure yours.”
Her gaze darted toward the guards. Orris rubbed the massive bulge in the front of his pants, a lascivious smile parting his lips. She shook her head. “I don’t want—”
“As soon as they make you come, you will return the favor by whatever means they choose. This is the Levari way. We work together to meet the needs of everyone within our strain.”
“But you promised Desmond—”
“We promised Desmond you would not be harmed and we intend to keep that promise. You will know only pleasure at our hands, but it is important that you understand your will is no longer your own.”
Orris approached, his gaze narrowed yet gleaming. Roman was a step behind.
“You understand your orders? You don’t come until she comes, regardless of how long that takes.”
“Yes, sir,” the guards chorused.
“I don’t want this!” She tried one last time, desperately clinging to the last sliver of her pride. But already her body was warming, softening in anticipation of the pleasure to come. “You promised to protect me. I have a mate.”
“There are no mates within the Brethren. We share everything equally,” Farren told her as Orris pulled off his shirt. “Your body is one of many and there are many willing and able to satisfy you. We are many and yet we are one. It is the Levari way.”
“It is not this Levari’s way.” She renewed her struggles and Farren’s arms tightened around her.
“We will not harm you.” Orris cupped her breast, golden light shimmering in his dark eyes. “The Levari Brethren understand the importance of healthy female hosts.”
“You have a hell of a way of showing it.” She tried to twist away from his exploring hands but Farren wouldn’t allow her retreat.
“We felt your surrender,” Farren whispered in her ear. “Not only is this familiar to you, it is natural. Your body longs to be mastered, controlled. You ache for the days when you had no control, when you were free to revel in whatever pleasure you were given without thought or regret.” When she remained tense and silent, he said, “We prefer to share this with you, but either way your body will accommodate our needs.”
Roman sank to his knees and lightly petted her pubic curls. “May I be the first to fuck her pussy?”
“That’s up to her,” Farren told the guard. “Pleasure her well and see if she will allow it.”
Roman parted her folds with his fingers and framed her clit with his lips. Tingling tension gathered beneath his swirling tongue and Caresse knew she was doomed. She rested her head against Farren’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
Someone was teasing her nipples, likely Orris. His fingers were firm, but patient, each sensation stopping just short of pain.
“You are part of the Levari Brethren now. There is no escape. Accept us and you will know only pleasure. Displease us and your life will become a living hell.”
Farren’s words reverberated through her mind as Roman lifted one of her legs to his shoulder, giving him better access to her sex. Unless Desmond returned with his powers intact, she was out of options. She had to stay alive and retain what little remained of her individuality. Life in the feeding dens had taught her how to adapt, how to process sensations without surrendering her soul. Knowing there was no other choice, at least for now, she relaxed within Farren’s embrace and let the pleasure come.
Chapter Four
Heat spread across Eloise’s chest as Bronik’s gaze lowered to her breasts. Each time she sucked air into her lungs her flesh swelled above the neckline of her beaded evening gown. She needed to calm down, regulate her breathing and clear her mind. She felt restless and desperate. And desperate people made stupid mistakes.
Bronik didn’t know her symbionts were paralyzed. It was the only thing keeping her from mindless panic. She stood in one corner of the kitchen, caged by his arms, half a step away from his muscular body. Without the benefit of her high-heeled shoes, she barely reached his chin and she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. She’d never met a man who could make her tremble with just a heated look. And it wasn’t just his size that made her feel weak and liquid. She was drawn to him, attracted in a way she’d never experienced before. She’d felt the magnetic pull even while he was in chains. Of course the awareness hadn’t been nearly as disconcerting while she’d controlled the situation.
“Who kidnapped you and what were they after?” His voice rumbled through her body and made her senses hum.
Did Strigo strain know the Levari were still alive? How long had Bronik been skulking around the other house before he appeared to her?
She cleared her throat and did her best to sound bored. “I have no idea. You rescued me before they realized I was awake.”
He caught her chin and tilted her head back, his gaze drilling into hers. “Don’t lie to me again. I will not tolerate deception.” His fingers relaxed, becoming more caress than restraint.
Her chin trembled as she wet her lower lip. Each time he turned aggressive she felt a faint stirring, as if her symbionts were trying to awaken. Without her powers she had no chance of defending herself, much less finding a way to escape. Still, provoking him would be foolish if backup was on its way.
“Does my mother know where I am?”
“You might not be restrained but don’t misunderstand the situation. I’m asking the questions here.” She turned her head, dislodging his hand in the process. He countered the motion by sliding his hand down her neck and resting it on her bare shoulder. “Your captor had just left the bedroom when I arrived. I know you spoke with him at least once.”
She made a derisive sound and raised her chin. “He said, ‘Oh, you’re awake. I’ll get you some water,’ then left the room.” With all the arrogance she could muster, she added, “Does that tell you what you wanted to know?”
He slid his hand back up her neck, the simple touch far more evocative than it should have been. “What I want has nothing to do with this. I’m trying to save your life. If Prince Alexi gets his hands on you, there won’t be much left when he’s finished.”
Rather than shying away from his touch, she rubbed her cheek against his hand and looked up at him through her lashes. “My hero,” she murmured.
He narrowed his eyes and cupped the back of her head, his fingers teasing the wispy curls at the nape of her neck. “If you need a good hard fuck, I’m good to go. But as soon as we’re finished you’re still going to answer my questions.”
She didn’t want a good hard fuck. She wanted to spend all night exploring his amazing body, learning what pleased him
and what drove him wild. Was he a generous lover or was he the kind of man who bent a woman over the nearest piece of furniture and selfishly slaked his lust?
What difference did it make? She pushed his hand away from her head and guided it back to the counter. This wasn’t a romantic getaway. She was his prisoner and he’d sensed her lies and sidestepped her evasions. She needed to tell him something close enough to the truth that he’d believe she was cooperating. “I was sedated right after they snatched me from the party.”
“They?” He latched on to the detail, his perceptiveness damn annoying. “How many of them were there?”
“I only saw one but it would have taken a team of three or four… Unless the one I saw could teleport, of course.” She arched her brow, accenting the implied challenge. Strigo was the only strain able to teleport. Most other hosts could disperse their physical bodies and travel as mist, but that wasn’t the same as instantaneously moving from one place to another. And only the strongest Strigo hosts could teleport with a passenger.
“I wouldn’t have needed to rescue you if Strigo strain were behind your abduction.”
“Where did you find me?” She tried to distract him, direct his mind away from his questions. “Why does Prince Alexi want to question me? What does he think I know?”
He ignored her questions but took a tiny step forward, bringing his body closer to hers. “The kidnapper had to have given you some idea why you’d been abducted.”
Awareness arced between them, hot and electric. Her symbionts vibrated, sending impulses zinging through her without specific direction. She felt energized, almost giddy, yet she had no control over the sudden rush of energy. If she came on to him now he’d think it was another evasion. Yet anything that stimulated her symbionts was worth pursuing.
“There will be consequences for lies,” he reminded her.
She could claim there hadn’t been time, that he’d flashed her out before the other man explained his motivation. But a half-truth was more believable. “He claimed my mother had stolen something that belonged to him. He offered to trade me for whatever it is she took.”
“He didn’t tell you what it was?”
She shook her head then tried to duck under his arm, needing him to touch her. As she’d hoped, he caught her upper arms and pressed her back against the counter. “All he said was that I should know. When I insisted I didn’t, he stormed out of the room. He said I might be more reasonable after a couple of hours of solitude.”
“But you’d just had two days of solitude.”
“The majority of which I’d been unconscious.” Flecks of green shimmered in his dark eyes, warning of a surge in Strigo energy. It was now or never. She couldn’t let him push past her shields. He’d realize she was helpless. “I’m exhausted and hungry.” She lowered her tone to a throaty purr. “I’ve never been fond of bagged blood and you can’t feed me. But can you think of anything else we can do that will make me feel less depleted?”
With a low growl he bent his head and inhaled her breath. “If you let me off my leash, baby doll, you’re going to get more than a few scratches.”
Her pulse leapt and her core tensed. Gods, she needed this. It was dangerous and foolish and oh so tempting. “I’m not afraid of you.” It was a challenge and he instantly took the bait.
He bent low enough to wrap his arm around her thighs then straightened as he slid her up his body. Her feet left the floor and she wrapped her arms around his neck as her body contoured itself to his. “Kiss me,” he whispered, his breath teasing her lips.
She understood the deeper meaning. If she wanted this he’d play along, but there would be no mistaking who had started it. She shifted one of her hands to his face and the bristles along his jawline rasped against her fingertips. Everything about him was rugged and masculine, sturdy and strong. It would have been wiser to be intimidated by such power, but she found it captivating.
After brushing his lips with her thumb, she pressed her mouth over his. It wasn’t really a kiss, at least not yet. She absorbed his heat and inhaled his scent, allowing the tension to build. His tongue touched her lips, inviting a deeper connection without venturing beyond the portal she’d created. If she wanted more he was willing and ready, but she had to take it.
She shifted her head to a better angle and parted her lips, heart pounding as she waited for his response. He followed smoothly, his lips warm and firm against hers. With an incoherent murmur, she slid her tongue into his waiting mouth. He tasted like coffee and desire, two of her favorite flavors. His tongue stroked hers and she felt his fangs lengthen, ready to devour.
Unnerved by the potential danger, she pulled back into her own mouth. He followed, pushing past her lips to continue the sensual swirl. Each ragged breath blended their scents and their dueling tongues mingled their tastes. Eloise waited for the familiar burn of her descending fangs, willing her body to transform. The next step would be to combine a few drops of her blood with a few drops of his. A kiss never felt complete without the intimate mixture.
His tongue slid over her teeth then he slowly separated their mouths. “Relax. I’ll filter my blood if you’re too weak to deal with my symbionts.”
Mixing symbionts was dangerous, potentially lethal. That’s why hosts from different strains didn’t feed from each other. It was also the reason blood kisses were so popular. Hosts were attracted to danger. They craved the rush of beating the odds. Not to mention a drop or two of a potential partner’s blood revealed more about him or her than weeks of conversation. Few hosts would move on to sex if a blood kiss was refused.
Before she could make up a believable excuse he took control of the kiss. He set her down on the countertop and pushed her skirt up, freeing her legs to wrap around his hips. Then he cradled her head against the bend of his elbow and covered her mouth with his.
Their lips pressed and their tongues curled. He tried to nick her tongue but she carefully avoided the points of his fangs. She wasn’t sure he would realize her symbionts were inactive but she wasn’t taking any chances.
The kiss went on and on, intoxicating and consuming. She relaxed in his embrace and waited for another swell of energy. Maybe it wasn’t just passion. The tingling seemed to follow an unexpected surge of aggression. Though troubling, the pattern didn’t surprise her. She’d always been attracted to strong, dangerous men.
She tore her mouth away from his and gripped the edge of the counter. “We shouldn’t.” She panted, knowing her breasts heaved with each ragged breath. “I know nothing about you.”
He scraped his fangs along the side of her throat, his hands supporting her back. “We’ve both wanted this since we met. And if you want to know more, allow a blood kiss.”
She couldn’t argue with that but his actions only stirred her body. Her symbionts were silent and still. “My mother will kill me.” She’d meant the statement as a reminder to him that she was his enemy, but dread passed its icy fingers over her soul. If Tara sensed any weakness or betrayal, even in her adopted daughter, she would react without mercy or regret.
“Your mother will never know.”
His casual dismissal of a very real danger stung. She splayed her hands against his chest and pushed, but he didn’t seem to notice. The room swelled and swayed with her slightest movement. Why did she feel so…odd?
With practiced ease he unfastened the back of her gown, creating enough room for his hands inside the stiff fabric. He stroked her back and shoulders then slipped one hand inside the bodice and cupped her breast. “Oh yeah.” His mouth found hers again as his hands boldly explored. He squeezed one mound and then the other, pausing long enough to tease her nipple before switching sides.
Her head spun and her fingers tingled. She felt drugged, sluggish and overly warm. Was she weakening from whatever the Levari had done to her or had there been something wrong with the blood Bronik had given her?
Turning her head to the side, she drew in a deep breath, but it only made the dizziness worse.
“Bronik,” she whispered.
“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He pushed her bodice down, exposing her breasts to his hungry eyes. “So beautiful.”
His mouth latched on to her breast and her head rolled back, the room spinning around her. “I feel… Something’s…”
He released her nipple and pulled her toward him as everything went black.
Bronik forced his hunger under control as Eloise went limp in his arms. For a millisecond he’d thought she was pretending, surrendering to her uncertainty. But this was no act. She was unconscious. Her warm breath against his neck assured him she was breathing, so he quickly refastened the back of her gown then lifted her into his arms. She felt shockingly insubstantial despite her height and alluring curves. Were humans all this fragile?
Dismissing the tangent, he deactivated the shields surrounding the house with an urgent mental pulse. Then he flashed outside and reactivated the shields before locating the psychic beacon that would guide him back to Strigo headquarters.
Sire, something’s wrong with the female. Is Simone available? The Vladya healer had asked for sanctuary in exchange for her assistance in rescuing Prince Alexi’s crew from the Vancouver compound. No one was ready to trust her completely, but she was being treated as a guest, not a prisoner.
Is she ill or injured? Edrick Yeager, Alexi’s uncle, responded to Bronik’s page. Edrick had been head of Strigo strain before Prince Alexi arrived on Earth.
She’s unconscious and I’m not sure why.
Take her to the gatehouse. I’ll send Simone there.
Yes, sir. It was a wise precaution. Unconscious or not, this was Tara Kovac’s daughter.
Slowly expanding his seeker pulse beyond the psychic beacon, Bronik located the gatehouse. He clasped Eloise tightly to his chest then dispersed their corporeal bodies. His symbionts took over from there, projecting him and his passenger toward their destination in upstate New York.
Bronik had teleported for the first time at thirteen, so the disembodied rush and utter dependency on the skill of his symbionts was nothing new. He had even teleported with other people before, so why did he feel so antsy? He had the irrational urge to scream cautions to his symbionts and insist they pay special attention.
