Dark Prince's Enigma

by I. T. Lucas

  Oh, boy. Her prince was aroused.

  He chuckled. “Do you think I could sleep with all that anticipation raging inside of me?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Come here.” Lokan patted the bed.

  With her pupils finally fully dilated, she saw that he was bare-chested, but his lower half was covered by a blanket. Was he naked all the way below the covers?

  Giving him an appreciative once-over, Carol followed the beautiful contours of his lean muscles, starting with his shoulders, moving down to his six-pack stomach, and following the trail of sparse dark hair to where her view was terminated by the duvet.

  She assumed he was aroused, but it was impossible to tell because he had one knee up, effectively hiding anything that might have given him away.

  As befitting the direct grandson of a god, the male was beautifully made, and she was sure that what was hidden under the blanket was just as scrumptious as what he allowed her to see.

  When she just kept looking, he smirked. “Do you want me to come to you?”

  “Stay where you are. I like looking at you.”

  “Same here. Can you admire me while stripping so I can enjoy the view as well?”

  Could she ever…

  He didn’t know it, but he was dealing with a pro. If only there was a pole she could use, she would have given him a performance to remember.

  Perhaps the bedpost would do?

  It was a lovely four-poster, her favorite type. There were so many naughty things one could do with such a bed.

  Sauntering over to the nearest bedpost, she smiled coyly. “Grab on to the headboard slats and don’t let go no matter what.”

  He frowned, his eyes blazing red. “That’s not how I like to play.”

  She had no doubt of that. Lokan was an immortal male, which made him naturally dominant, but he was also very close to the godly source, which made him doubly so. He was used to issuing commands, not following them.

  “Humor me. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Reluctantly, he did as she asked, at the same time lowering his knee and letting her see what she’d suspected he’d been hiding under the blanket.

  It was quite an impressive tent.

  “What are you going to do?” The slur in his voice sent a trickle of desire straight to her straining nipples.

  When she started on the buttons of her blouse, he smiled, revealing a pair of fangs that were long and sharp.

  As a shiver rocked Carol’s body, her fingers faltered over the small button.

  Misinterpreting her reaction, he tried to cover those beauties with his lips. “Don't be afraid of my fangs. They are big, but I know how to use them to deliver pure pleasure.”

  Carol chuckled at the double entendre. “I’m not afraid of your fangs, I crave them.” She was about to add that she’d missed an immortal male’s bite and the unimaginable bliss the venom delivered, but then she would have to explain how she knew it.

  It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her relationship with Robert, it just wasn’t the time or place to mention it.

  34

  Lokan

  Carol’s admission that she craved his fangs ramped up Lokan’s arousal to fever pitch.

  He hadn’t expected it. Throughout his long life, women had reacted with horrified expressions and shrieks of terror whenever he’d gotten carried away and forgotten to compel their silence or thrall them to ignore his fangs and glowing eyes.

  By now, Lokan knew the words for demon and devil in nearly every human language. Modern women were a little better, some of them mistaking his fangs for prosthetics and the red glow in his eyes for specialty contact lenses.

  In recent years, there had been fewer shrieks.

  As Carol went back to slowly unbuttoning her blouse, he itched to let go of the headboard and go to her. He could rid her of her clothes so much faster. But she’d promised to make it worth his while, and he was curious.

  Everything about the situation was a novelty to him. Starting with the extraordinary immortal female stripping for him, to the self-restraint she’d demanded from him, to his compliance. It wasn’t in his nature to be on the receiving end. He wasn’t the type of male who enjoyed things being done to him. Typically, he was the one in charge.

  But here he was, obeying commands from a tiny female, and enjoying it to his great surprise. If only she would do it faster, though. Not that it wasn’t exciting, but he was having a really hard time holding on to that headboard.

  “How many buttons does that damn blouse have?”

  She paused. “Would you rather I hurried?”

  It was a trap. If he admitted that he wanted her to go faster, she would get offended because he didn't appreciate her slow striptease. With an emphasis on the tease. But if he said no, it would imply that he wasn’t eager to see her naked.

  Women liked to play these games, perhaps even subconsciously, but Lokan was too old and experienced to stumble over such a minor obstacle.

  “I’m conflicted. The slow reveal is incredibly alluring, but in my heightened arousal, I might tear this headboard apart.”

  “Patience, my prince.” She turned around and hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her pants.

  Lifting up for a better viewing angle, Lokan watched mesmerized as she bent down and slowly shimmied out of them, then lifted them in the air and twirled them a few times before tossing them across the room.

  Regrettably, the damn blouse was long, covering that delectable bottom, and at the same time outlining it so perfectly that it looked like Carol wasn’t wearing panties.

  Glancing at him over her shoulder, she smiled and shrugged the blouse off, first revealing her creamy shoulders, then the enticing curve of her back, and finally letting it drop to the floor.

  She was wearing panties after all, provided a string with a bow on top qualified as such. That bow was his undoing. He just had to tug on it and watch it unravel.

  As Lokan sucked in a breath, a cracking sound preceded the slats breaking away from the headboard.

  Looking at him over her shoulder, Carol pretended fright. “Oh, my. Don’t break the furniture, my prince. And please grab the next slats over.”

  “I’m done with this game.” He lowered his arms.

  “Patience, darling. The best is still to come.”

  With a groan, he reached for the slats again. She was killing him. “Tug on that string for me.”

  Carol reached behind her and touched the little bow. “This one?”

  “Is there another one?”

  She held his gaze as she pulled on the bow and let the panties flutter down to the floor.

  Dear gods. That ass was a work of art.

  “Now, the bra.”

  Reaching for the clasp, she pinched it with two fingers, and as the back strap parted, she took pity on him and removed the garment with one pull, twirling it over her head and then tossing it down to the floor.

  Looking at him over her shoulder, she fluttered her eyelashes. “Should I turn around?”

  He was about to shout yes, when he remembered that the damn camera was pointed straight at her. “Hold on. I need to take care of this.”

  He bent down and picked up her bra, then stood on top of the bed and draped it over the camera, covering the lens as best he could with the semi-sheer lace. “Now you can turn.”

  As she did, they both sucked in a breath.

  Her eyes riveted to his straining shaft, Carol mouthed, “Wow.”

  “Wow, indeed.” He leaped off the bed and took her into his arms. “Exquisite.”

  “Wait.” She pushed on his chest. “I wasn’t done. I wanted to pole dance for you.”

  “Not this time, babydoll.”

  35

  Carol

  It had been ages since anyone had called Carol babydoll. She’d always liked the endearment, but coming from Lokan’s lips in that smooth, deep voice of his, it was the best one yet.

  She pouted as he laid her down on the bed and loo
med over her. “I wanted to dance for you and then kiss your body all over, tormenting you with the sweetest of pleasures.”

  His smirk was evil as he looked at her with hungry eyes. “Tonight, I’ll be the one doing the pleasuring.” Dipping his head, he flicked his tongue over her nipple, and then over the other. “I’ve never seen a female as beautifully built as you.” He ran his hand over the side of her breast and down the dip of her waist. “I thought that such a perfect hourglass figure existed only in paintings.”

  She ran her fingers through his short hair. “You say all the right things.”

  “I mean them. Those are not just lines I drop every day.”

  “How about once in a century?”

  “Not even.” His hand closed over her nape, and he took her lips, his tongue slipping into her mouth without preamble.

  He wasn’t hesitant, and he wasn’t gentle. He was taking what he wanted, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as if he was conquering it, claiming it as his.

  Just the way she liked it.

  It wasn’t that he was brutal, not at all. Just confident, and rightly so. This was a very experienced male who knew precisely what to do with a woman.

  Finally.

  After thousands of lovers, she’d found the right one for her. What a pity that Lokan was a prisoner. Him being the enemy didn’t even factor into it. She could have him cross over the same way Dalhu and Robert had.

  But first, she had to convince him that she was the one for him. When he accepted her as his true-love mate, there would be no going back for him.

  As he lifted his head, his dark eyes were glowing with that peculiar red inner light, but as he trailed his gaze over her body, they no longer looked demonic to her, just appreciative.

  Her prince loved what he saw.

  His muscles were tensed, but his fingers feathered over her in a barely there touch, gentle, exploring. He started with the undersides of her breasts, brushed over her belly, and then hovered over her center.

  In a blatant invitation, she let her legs fall apart.

  “So soft,” he said, trailing those fingers along the inner curve of her thigh. “I can feel the heat of your desire calling to me. And your scent, it is maddening, so different. If I didn’t know you were an immortal female before, this scent would have given you away.”

  Her original plan of starting a revolution on the island had been terminated because of Navuh’s compulsory hold over his people, and now Lokan’s comment had pounded the last nail into its coffin. She would’ve been discovered despite the heavy perfume she’d used. Lokan could smell her natural scent despite it.

  Then again, Lokan’s sense of smell was probably more acute than Robert’s because he was a more direct descendant of the gods. She could have probably fooled the noses of the rank and file warriors. But that was neither here nor there. That plan was dead.

  He lifted his eyes to look at her face. “Did my comment bother you? I can feel you drifting away from me.”

  “Not at all.” She reached for his neck and tugged his head down. “Kiss me again like you did before.”

  As he did as she’d asked, his fingers dipped between her wet folds, teasing, caressing, and when he worked one inside her, she moaned into his mouth. Intensifying the kiss, he retracted the finger and came back with two.

  Fates, this was good. But she wanted more. Needed it.

  Lifting her bottom off the mattress, she took his long fingers deeper inside her. Lokan could make her climax like this, but for her first orgasm with her prince, Carol wanted him inside her, joining them. Nothing less was going to satisfy her.

  He must have read her mind.

  His mouth never leaving hers, he mounted her and then aligned his erection with her entrance.

  “Yes,” she murmured against his lips.

  As he entered her, the groan that escaped his throat was the only indication of the restraint he’d exercised. But he didn’t just ram into her, although she would have been fine with that. Holding himself still, he waited for her to adjust to him.

  Compared to her, Lokan was a big guy, but the penetration wasn’t painful. All she felt was an incredible fullness in the part he’d already claimed, and just as incredible emptiness in the part he still hadn’t.

  Letting go of her mouth, he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes as he drove the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt.

  “Yes.” She clutched his shoulders.

  His expression, usually so guarded, was a mix of wonder and possessiveness. If she could read his mind, Carol was sure she would hear him say, “Mine.”

  Instead of uttering the word, though, he said it with his body. His chest pressing into hers, his hips retreated and surged forward in an incremental increase of tempo and power.

  It was as if he was testing how much she could take, and upon discovering that she had no limits, he finally let go, ramming into her again and again and driving her up and up to the edge of the cliff.

  His tongue flicking over her neck was what drove her over, and as the climax washed over her like a tsunami, he hissed and sank his fangs in the spot he’d marked. Another thunderous waved rocked her body, and then another as Lokan’s hot seed jetted into her.

  But even before the venom hit her system, Carol nearly passed out from the intensity of it, and a dim thought flitted through her head that she might not survive this.

  Was it possible to expire from too much pleasure?

  The thought evaporated as soon as the euphoria spread throughout her body, and the convulsions finally eased up, relaxing her muscles and leaving her boneless.

  “Lokan,” she whispered before drifting off on a cloud.

  36

  Lokan

  After licking the twin incision points closed, Lokan collapsed over Carol and buried his face in the crook of her neck, where he could keep breathing in her scent.

  Nearly one thousand years of existence hadn’t prepared him for this night, and for this extraordinary experience with this exquisite woman.

  Lokan could now understand why and how Dalhu could overcome his father’s compulsion and forsake his only home to be with Amanda.

  Except, he doubted that even Kian’s sister, the daughter of a goddess, could compare to Carol. There was no one like her on the face of this planet.

  Perhaps he was exaggerating, and maybe for another male a different female would be such a unique treasure, but for him, there was just one.

  Even though he barely knew her, wasn’t in love with her, Carol was his one and only. He was as certain of it as he was certain of the sun rising the next day.

  What she’d told him about true-love mates was not a fantasy. It was as real as the unmistakable connection he felt with her. This hadn’t been just sex, or even lovemaking; this had been a joining. Not only of bodies, but of souls.

  Was that the real reason his father didn’t allow dormant females to transition? Because immortal unions were so powerful that they provided mates with immunity against his compulsion?

  And was it the reason he kept his harem in complete isolation? Did Navuh have a true-love mate in there?

  If he had, she was his Achilles heel, and that was why he kept her hidden. What about the other females in his harem, though?

  How could he have sex with anyone other than his true-love mate?

  Lifting his head, Lokan gazed at Carol and was filled with immense satisfaction for putting that blissed-out expression on her gorgeous face.

  Planting a soft kiss on her parted lips, he knew with absolute conviction that he would never desire another female again. Which meant that Carol had to become his.

  Exclusively, officially, and irrevocably.

  The question was how it was done. Did the clan have marriage ceremonies? Did the goddess bless the unions? What made them official and indisputable?

  How was he going to keep his treasure from slipping away?

  This was insanity. Or chemicals.

  How the hell was he feeli
ng such an overwhelming sense of rightness and possessiveness toward a female he wasn’t even in love with?

  But then what did he know about love?

  Absolutely nothing.

  He hadn’t loved a mother because he’d been deprived of her. He didn’t love his father because Navuh had never acted as one. And he didn’t love his half-brothers because they were his rivals, and none of them would hesitate to get rid of him if given half a chance.

  The closest Lokan had come to loving anyone had been the Dormant into whose care he had been given after his father had taken him away from his mother. But that woman had been dead for a very long time, and he could barely remember what she’d looked or sounded like.

  Was that the reason he was so overwhelmed right now?

  His deadened emotions had gotten resurrected, probably by some weird chemicals released during the joining with an immortal female. Apparently, immortals and humans were different in more ways than he’d known or suspected.

  When Carol tried to shift under him, Lokan realized that he was still squashing her with his weight. Holding on to her because he wasn’t willing to separate from her yet, he turned them both sideways and tucked her head under his chin.

  “This is nice,” she murmured. “I like you holding me like that.”

  “Good. Because I’m never letting go.”

  She chuckled softly. “We can’t stay like this forever.”

  “Says who?”

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re staying right here.”

  Burying her nose in the crease between his pectorals, she sighed. “You smell amazing, and I don’t want to go anywhere either.”

  Caressing her hair, he kissed the top of her head. “Is this what it’s like for all immortal couples?”

  “Just the very lucky ones. Not everyone gets their true-love mate.”

  “Is that what it is? Because I’ve never felt anything like this. I can’t let you go. Ever.”