by Anne Marsh
There was a moment of silence on the other end, and she considered—and discarded—the idea of hanging up on her erstwhile partner. Too unprofessional. Too damn tempting. But she’d given in to temptation once already.
“Good luck,” he offered finally. “I suggest you focus on completing your research. When it is done and has been delivered, I will retrieve you.” Which meant he could retrieve her now, damn it. There had to be a way to negotiate an exit from this nightmare. “I think you will find it extremely difficult to walk out that door right now. The Fallen take their mates rather seriously. You will find that you go nowhere until you have satisfied them—or me.”
Ultimatums weren’t her favorite form of communication. Plus, the kind of marching orders Genecore had just laid on her made her want to do the exact opposite. Whether she got with the program or not, learning more about her captors was smart. A little informal observation was the logical course of action. So, the question really was, why wasn’t she observing the vidscreen for entrances and exits? Different views of the club were on full display in the bank of vidscreens occupying the west wall of Zer’s palatial personal suite.
Idly, she watched the comings and goings on the vidscreens, mentally jotting down times and players, cataloging features. Now, mentally, she ran down the probable ancestry of the dancers. Deciphering someone’s ancestry was impossible by looks alone. Hell, she was living proof of that. But the idle speculation kept her from screaming.
Her fingers itched to note her observations. There had to be paper in here somewhere. Place was like a damn hotel on some levels, so there should be a drawer with cheap-ass stationery and ballpoint pens. Sure enough, a quick rifle of the bedside drawer—she squelched the frisson of guilt for pawing through his things—and she was equipped. Nothing beat the sensual glide of black ink over paper—certainly not the frantic tapping of keys. Later, when she was writing everything up, putting her new knowledge into print-worthy form for a scientific journal, she’d use the laptop. But not until then.
Old-fashioned observation and recording—that was her thing.
The club was busy, even for a Friday night, packed to capacity with gyrating, drinking, pleasure-seeking patrons. The cameras afforded her an unparalleled view. She estimated fifty-plus in the mirrored lobby alone, all fighting to make it inside to the dance floor.
All human.
The Fallen were inside, waiting for their prey. Yeah, the humans jostling one another in the lobby had another think coming to them if they really believed they had the upper hand here.
Two Fallen by the first bar, their intense gazes focused on their female partners. No visible bonding marks, so, clearly, a hookup was in progress there. The human behind the bar kept up a steady stream of full glasses, sliding slim flutes and squat bourbon tumblers over the counter. A dark male hand reached out and stroked a feminine thigh, gliding higher. A drink spilled onto the bar, unnoticed.
Yeah, next.
She knew better than to look, but the sensual tableau of the club was better than a train wreck. Each new camera pan revealed more Fallen and the human women they were hell-bent on seducing. The numbers didn’t lie. Numerical data never did, but she wouldn’t have estimated the damage to be this high. Did none of them say no? Was the one constant that no woman could resist? There had to be some human capable of saying no.
Who was she kidding? She was looking for something—someone—in particular. Two screens over, she found him.
Zer.
The visceral jolt of pleasure that shot through her was baffling. Unexpected. There was no logical reason for her to react so strongly to him and not to his equally striking brothers. And yet here she was, leaning forward in her chair so that she could follow his face on the screen. When the pen dropped from her fingers, rolling silently away, she admitted the truth.
She was lost.
On Zer’s lap sat a tall, pale, and beautiful woman, apparently deposited there by Nael, who was still standing nearby. All too obviously, Nael had the caviar-and-champagne tastes his sensual smile promised. That was a Versace cocktail dress if Nessa didn’t miss her guess—and nothing like Nessa’s own practical business attire.
Hell ... Nessa didn’t like the spike of emotion the woman’s presence in Zer’s lap aroused. Nael’s strong hands meant his female companion wasn’t going anywhere he didn’t allow, but, judging by the look on her face, she had no desire to go anywhere. Yeah, go figure.
The female pretty much looked like she’d just found heaven and it would take a nuclear holocaust to dislodge her. That shouldn’t have bothered Nessa, but she still swallowed—hard—when Zer buried his face in the girl’s hair, wrapping that large, hot body of his around her.
The same body that had held her, first in the car and then in his suite. Get over him, she ordered herself. So what if she wanted him? He was light-years out of her league and came with a price tag she had no intention of paying. But that didn’t prevent her hormones from kicking into overdrive when she spotted him there on the vidscreen. Just hormones and a chemical reaction. That was all it was. But, God, it was a potent one. He was beautiful.
Nael threaded his fingers through the blonde’s hair. His fingers tangled with Zer’s. Oh, God, the erotic image was burned into her mind. Sharing. These two had shared women before, were confident in their sensuality, their ability to make the woman in their arms see fireworks.
Nael slid down the woman’s body, unwrapping her like she was his Christmas present. Male fingers tugged at the zipper, and his hands stroked over the skin he’d uncovered. Followed the sensual path with his tongue. Nessa could all too easily imagine that tongue discovering her, tracing an erotic path over her breasts. No, not Nael. Zer. She shifted restlessly. She shouldn’t watch this.
Shouldn’t want those soft strokes for herself.
But, God, they were tempting. He was tempting.
So, there was a kink in her brain that couldn’t deny the voyeuristic pleasure of watching Nael with his partner. Didn’t want to, because it felt so damn good and it wasn’t hurting anyone. Soon, though, she was watching Zer’s face. The way his cock thrust against his black leather pants and the look of intense concentration and fierce hunger that lit his face.
To hell with it. Sliding a button free on her blouse, she stroked her own fingers along the smooth slope of her breasts. Heat crawled over her skin in a hot flush of desire. She was suddenly aware of the silky fabric of her bra cupping her breasts, her blouse clinging to her ribs.
On the vidscreen, Nael slid farther down the woman, eating at her through a wicked scrap of a thong. There was no sound, but the woman’s head fell back against Zer’s shoulder, her mouth opening on a soundless moan.
Of pleasure. Only pleasure.
Zer leaned forward, the muscles of his back bunching beneath the thin silk of his shirt. The woman perched on Zer’s lap like she damn well belonged there drove her fingers through his close-cropped hair. Nessa wanted to trade places with her and run as far and fast as she could at the same time. What would it be like to have all that fierce masculine sensuality trained on her?
Her breath caught, and, damn it, she was wet. For him.
The butter-soft leather of her chair was a sensual caress against her bared skin, a substitute kiss for the lover she couldn’t afford to take. She shouldn’t do this. She was supposed to be escaping, but, instead, she was spying on the most intensely erotic scene she’d ever witnessed. But she couldn’t stop watching.
On the vidscreen, Nael slid gently down his companion, his fingers spreading her ass. Dark pleasure spilled across her face and had Nessa’s own mind superimposing an image of Zer doing the same to her.
Zer’s eyes snapped up, that fierce, hooded gaze focusing on the security camera.
Oh, God.
He knew she was watching.
This time, his boys didn’t make a scene. The guards let Zer enter the elevator and punch the buttons for his private floor without so much as a word of protest. He ached,
his cock a hard, needy weight, but the hunger was less now. The beast locked up inside him had drained enough from Nael’s newest find that it was unable to get out now. He knew he could walk through that door and not lay hands on Nessa. She’d be safe for tonight.
He considered knocking and dismissed the idea. This was his suite, and she needed to know that. Any rights to privacy she had, she had because he gifted her with them. That might make him an arrogant bastard, but he was the arrogant bastard who was going to keep her alive. Opening the door, he went in.
She sprang away from the vidbank as if she’d been burned. The pink flush spreading across her cheeks intrigued him, making his cock throb in hungry empathy. Christ, he could scent her arousal from across the room. Nael was on vidscreen, doing his thing. And Nessa St. James had been watching. How delicious was that?
“You’re a watcher.”
“No.” Her denial was two shades of uncertain. Maybe she hadn’t known she was a voyeur at heart, but she did now. Watching aroused her.
“Yes.” Closing the distance between them, he examined her face. “You like to watch. I like to watch.”
He’d never been anything but blunt in his sexual demands, and he wasn’t going to let her hide from how she felt tonight. She wanted him. He didn’t make mistakes about these things. Hell, he didn’t make mistakes. Other than one corker of a mistake three millennia ago, his inner voice mocked him. Yeah, that had been the mistake to end all mistakes. But he’d learned from it.
So, he stalked her, backing her up against the vid console. “A gift.” No strings, and he meant it.
He held out one large, male hand, and, God, was she tempted. She shouldn’t. Oh, she really shouldn’t. But it had been so long since she’d done something just for her. She knew it didn’t mean anything, couldn’t mean anything, so she wouldn’t get hurt. She wasn’t in the market for happily-ever-after, and, even if she had been, he wasn’t selling, anyhow.
“No strings,” she warned, and she put her hand in his. His fingers closed over hers. Strong. Warm. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the fit. The teasing sensation of skin against skin wouldn’t let her forget how rough he was, how masculine, how hard.
Not quite human.
He murmured a command, and the lights dimmed, wrapping them in a dark cocoon. Just the two of them. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Come with me.” His voice was a dark promise. “Don’t renege on me now. I’ll make you feel good, baby.”
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she warned again. She almost didn’t recognize her voice. The tone was raw, husky with unfamiliar need.
“Understood. Just pleasure,” he coaxed.
He drew her back to the vidscreens. Settled into the large leather armchair, pulling her down onto his lap.
“Watch,” he breathed against her skin. One hand moved confidently over the bank of controls, punching in codes. The camera zoomed in, and Nael filled the small screen, still wrapped around his blonde.
Nessa was stiff in Zer’s arms at first. “Relax, baby,” he breathed against her ear. “We’re just going to figure out what you like.”
Her notes were spread out on the too-delicate little credenza, thick swirls of inky black on the bland white paper the club stocked. Observations. Numbers. His little scientist had an eye for detail that didn’t surprise him. The question was: did she like what she’d seen?
He figured they could try each variant.
He was going to teach her exactly what she liked.
“Pleasure,” he promised. “Only pleasure.”
He drew one of her legs over his thighs and noticed that she’d removed the nylons she’d sported earlier. He made a mental note to order up a new wardrobe for her. She wouldn’t go without, not on his watch.
“Zer,” she said, and he drank in the soft, warm weight of her. Tentative. Tense. God, she was poised to run, as if she truly believed he’d let her out that door now that he had his hands on her.
As if he could.
Burying his face against her neck, he inhaled. Her scent was indescribable, that tormenting sugar-sweet smell of female. The soft strands of her hair clung to his jaw, to him. So much to explore, to learn.
He’d start with her skin, he decided. Learn the taste of her there. He stroked her lightly with his mouth, and her pulse jumped sharply beneath his tongue. She inhaled. Opened her mouth.
“Watch the vidscreen, baby.”
On the screen, Nael’s fingers were busy pulling up the too-short skirt of his companion’s cocktail dress even farther. The fabric bunched, slid, revealing a wicked black lace garter belt.
“You want me to do that?” He growled the words against her skin, his fingers stroking softly over the curve of her thigh. “You want to give me that?”
“Yes,” she said. Uncertain, then more sure. “Yes.” As if she didn’t know what she liked. An experiment.
He’d buy her a garter belt, he decided, removing his mouth from her throat. “You’ll wear one of those for me. Wicked,” he promised. “Little scrap of black silk to frame this pussy of yours. Lick you everywhere the lace doesn’t go. Would you like that?”
“Maybe.” Her eyes didn’t move from the vidscreen.
On the screen, Nael stroked confidently between his companion’s thighs, dark fingers sliding over the silk-covered mound.
Zer knew he couldn’t wait any longer, could feel his beast pushing to get out. “My turn.” Deliberately, he touched her, feeling her jump beneath his fingers. “Here, baby, where you’re wet and swollen.”
God, he was truly damned. He felt the plump, wet folds beneath his fingertips and wanted to rip off her panties and lick his way straight to the core of her. She tensed at the first light brush of his fingertips and then arched into his hand. God, yeah.
He let his hand rest there, drinking her in. Not the soul thirst, not yet, just delicious little tendrils of her psychic aura. Pleasure. Heat. Curiosity. God, that curiosity would be the death of him.
“Move,” she ordered. “I want to know what that feels like.”
Her wish was his command. He stroked softly, gently over the warm heat of her. Her curiosity intrigued him. What he felt from her was more than just sensual pleasure.
Her eyes closed, those dark lashes drifting slowly shut. Her hands fluttered, unsure of where to go, and then settled against his forearms. The light touch had him gritting his teeth. The feel of her was electric.
Deliberately, he drew two fingers gently down her soaking cleft, rubbing the fabric of her panties against her. Tempting her. The catch of her breath rewarded him, her sexy little whimper shockingly loud in the silent room.
“I want this,” he whispered against her ear. “I want you, Nessa. I’m going to convince you to let me do everything you’ve ever wanted to do. You’re going to beg me to.”
“I don’t beg,” she said, but she didn’t sound so sure anymore.
His cock was already impossibly hard, and then she moved gently against his hand.
“Hold still,” he growled, and he touched her. “Hold still for me now, baby, and I’ll make you come.” He slid his fingers deeper into that sweet valley because he couldn’t deny himself that pleasure. Not under her panties, though. Not yet. This was just a tease, a promise of the pleasure he could give her.
He didn’t know if he’d survive.
Her head fell back, baring that smooth throat. “Zer,” she said, and he didn’t know if it was a plea or a warning. Those impossible eyes of hers searched his face.
“Watch the screen, baby.” He paused, moving his hand away from her sweet heat. “Or I stop.”
She whimpered but obeyed, and, Christ, that was hot. Wrapping his big hand in her hair, he held her still as he slid his fingers back where he wanted them to be.
On the vidscreen, Nael slid his partner open. Burying his face deep in her pussy. He was going to do that, too. He was going to have all of her, even though he shouldn’t. “Next time,” Zer promised. “Next time, imagin
e us doing that together. I’m going to taste every inch of you, Nessa. I’m going to love having you on my tongue.”
He gave her the deep, delicious strokes he knew she craved, his fingers moving faster and deeper as her thighs closed around his wrist.
She came so quietly, the delicious flutters against his fingers soaking the silk of her panties. Quietly letting go.
So he held her in his arms, petting her gently. Wrapping her in himself. He was a goddamn selfish bastard, but he wasn’t done yet. He’d sleep beside her tonight. He was selfish enough to take that much for himself. That, and the sweet, rich scent of her cream on his fingers.
“Bond with us,” he whispered, his words soft against her skin as they lay in his bed. His ragged breathing, the impossible heat of him, and all that strength wrapped around her gave her an unfamiliar sense of belonging.
His offer shouldn’t have intrigued her. She’d refused it once, and she had every intention of refusing it now. She wasn’t going to do this. She really wasn’t. And yet those were her feet beating a path toward him, because something about this Fallen intrigued her. He was a puzzle, a conundrum—and she’d never been able to resist a good puzzle. Maybe, that’s all he was. Maybe, if she could figure out what made him tick, she could get back to her life.
“Bond with us, baby,” he repeated, his voice a rasping growl of sound.
His words snapped her back to reality. This wasn’t about her. This was about what he wanted. Her soul. And he didn’t even have the decency to pretend that he wanted her soul for himself. “In your dreams, Zer.”
She knew nothing of his dreams. Or his nightmares.
He had to convince her to do this, and it was killing him that force simply wouldn’t do the trick. This relationship business would have been so much simpler if he could simply order her to do something and she did it. His eyes narrowed.
“Why won’t you do it?” He was genuinely curious, he realized. None of the females downstairs would have considered refusing. They would have begged him for the opportunity. What made her so different? After all, he’d had her begging, hadn’t he?
