Damian wrapped an arm around her belly and lifted her enough to carry her into the shower, while she laughed in surprise. He still loved the sound of her laugh. It was the strongest memory he had of returning to true life after years trapped in that damn statue. The sound of her laughter.
“Damian.” She slapped his hands away playfully when he set her on the shower floor. The hot water was pouring down on them from above through a device called a rainfall showerhead. It was one of the best inventions of this time. The water was a steady, soft flow, like a natural waterfall in the mountains, but without the freezing temperature or the uneven stones underfoot.
Cassandra was currently hogging most of that lovely hot water, but the steam in the enclosure was enough to keep him comfortably warm. Especially with her luscious body to heat his blood. He watched as she poured half the bottle of shampoo on her long, wet hair, and then he took over, massaging the shampoo into a soapy lather with few firm strokes.
“Mmmmm,” she groaned and leaned back into his chest, dropping her hands down to grip his thighs.
Damian’s cock responded to the sensuality of that groan as much as the touch of her hands. He knew she didn’t see herself as such, but Cassandra was a deeply sensuous woman. Her fingers were digging into his thighs, kneading the muscles, moving higher with every stroke. He took a step back, pulling her with him, which put her even more fully under the water flow. While the soapy shampoo slid down her shoulders and over her silky wet skin, he reached around and cupped her breasts, weighing their soft fullness in the palms of his hands before squeezing gently, twisting her rosy nipples between finger and thumb.
She moaned again, hungrier this time, as she rubbed her ass against his erection. Damian growled. He had plans for that ass, but first he was going to make her feel every ounce of her own sensuality. Reaching around her, he grabbed the bar of soap and used it to caress her arms and thighs, her back, her belly, flirting with the soft folds between her legs until he could feel the heat of her pussy against his fingers, but never delving into that hot, wet temptation. Cassandra dragged her strong fingers over his arms, dug her nails into his ass, and rubbed herself wantonly against his cock. But he resisted, washing her slowly, seductively, until she hissed in frustration.
“Damian,” she demanded.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, then dipped his hand between her thighs to stroke her sex. She was creamy and wet, and so sensitive to his touch. Her pussy shivered at the contact, her clit swollen, hard enough that he could feel it pulsing beneath the pressure of his thumb. Cassandra moaned, lifting her arms to curl around his neck, thrusting her breasts outward so he could see their lushness, could see water dripping from the peaks of her nipples. He covered his fingers in the cream of her pussy, teasing her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips flexing in a plea for more. With a final caress, a last teasing pinch of her swollen clit, he flattened his hand against her belly, then slid his grip from her hip to her ass, his fingers digging in while he kissed her neck, tasting the salt on her skin as she writhed in the circle of his arms.
“Damian, please,” she whispered.
“What do you want?” he asked again, then slipped his hand between the firm cheeks of her ass, his finger dipping into the tight hole of her anus at the same moment his other hand slid into the liquid heat of her pussy. Cassandra froze with a tiny gasp of shock.
“Damian . . .”
He stilled. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered into the soft shell of her ear. For a long moment, he thought she’d say, “yes.”
But then she shook her head in a jerky motion and murmured a soft, “No.”
Damian outlined her ear with his tongue, biting the lobe gently as his fingers began fucking her pussy once again. One finger, then two, he filled her over and over until she was dripping wet, her juices coating his hand as she panted softly, making greedy little noises that made him want to bend her over and fuck her hard. But his Cassandra wasn’t ready for that. He forced himself to go slowly, stroking her pussy to just short of climax, then circling her clit with his thumb, teasing, barely grazing. Over and over, until without warning, he took the firm little nub between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed, while he bit down hard on her neck. Cassandra cried out in surprise, and then pleasure, as the orgasm left her shaking, gasping for breath, his arms the only thing keeping her standing. And then he started over.
“Again, Cassandra,” he ordered, slamming his fingers into her, feeling her sheath clench as she moaned helplessly.
“More,” she whispered, begging for release of a different kind.
He waited until her body was pulsing around his fingers, the muscles of her belly contracting with the force of her orgasm, until his cock was slick with her juices, and then he slid slowly into her ass. She cried out, coming harder than ever, her pussy clamping down around his fingers, her cream gushing out to ease his passage as he pushed even deeper into her tight little hole. Hunger finally overtook his patience, and he shoved her against the wall with a dominating snarl, gripping her hip with a hand that was slick with her juices, digging in his fingers as he pumped her sweet ass. She was so tight, a velvet glove of heat around his cock, so fucking raw and erotic that he could barely hold back his own climax as he pushed her for another, pressing his rough thumb against her throbbing clit.
“Do it, Cassandra,” he growled. “Come for me.”
He groaned when he felt her stiffen, felt the orgasm hit her as she cried out in shock. He tightened his hold as she began to thrash in his arms, protecting her even as his own orgasm roared over him and he filled her ass with the hot rush of his release.
Damian clung to Cassandra as she trembled, the tiny aftershocks of her multiple climaxes jolting through her body, and rippling over his cock. With a flex of his hips, he eased out of her ass. She gave a sensuous little moan, and he cursed as his cock hardened all over again. Circling her with his arms, he kissed her temple. “You’re beautiful when you come,” he whispered as he reached for the soap.
He washed her ass first, caressing her cheeks, sliding his soapy fingers in and out of her tight little hole, and then moving to her pussy, where he was careful to avoid her tender clit as he washed her folds.
She shivered at his touch. “I can’t,” she moaned. “Damian, I’ll fall apart.”
“Ssh, baby, it’s okay. I won’t let you.”
Holding her with one arm, he turned off the shower and grabbed one of the hotel’s big, fluffy towels. Wrapping her tightly, he carried her over to the big bed and pulled back the covers. Then he laid her on the soft sheets, curled his body around hers, and pulled the covers over them both.
“Sleep,” he murmured, and they both crashed.
Chapter Nine
DAMIAN WOKE TO the soft light of his laptop computer coming to life where it sat on the table against the wall. He’d left the computer open intentionally, expecting to hear from Nico, and not wanting to wake Cassandra with an audible signal. Or, at least, that’s what he’d told himself. The real reason was that Nico would want to meet him privately when he discovered what he’d found. Damian was increasingly uncomfortable with the subterfuge and intended to tell Nico tonight that he was bringing Cassandra into their circle. But until then, he had to honor Nico’s wish.
The room was dark, but he didn’t need to see Cassandra to know she still slept deeply. Her slow, regular breathing, and the boneless way she lay sprawled over the bed told him enough. He slipped easily from beneath the sheets, not making a sound, barely shifting his weight on the mattress. The ability to move in near silence was an important skill for a warrior. And also for a man who rarely slept in the same woman’s bed twice, but that was a very long time ago.
He went first to the computer and read Nico’s message. His friend was already waiting downstairs, so Damian dressed quietly, then picked up his scabbard
and slipped it over his back in a move so ingrained into his existence that it was second-nature, and made not a sound. The heavy door was more of a challenge, but he managed, moving slowly and deliberately until he was in the corridor outside their room. And then he went swiftly to the stairwell and took the stairs three at a time.
Once outside, he followed the tug on his soul, circling the hotel to find Nico standing next to that same bright red monster of a car on the far side of the parking lot. Despite the misgivings he had about keeping this meeting secret from Cassandra, he was still filled with joy at seeing his brother again. He strode across the lot, meeting Nico halfway. They embraced, holding each other tightly for a long moment, before letting go.
“I still can’t believe you’re real,” Nico said, gripping his arms, seeming reluctant to release him.
“Real enough, brother,” he said grinning back, and as he did, he wondered . . . how could he ever make Cassandra understand what Nico meant to him? What they meant to each other? She knew of his creation, how Nico had willed him into existence. But their connection was more than that. It was forged by decades spent side by side, fighting first Nico’s brothers, and then his enemies as his power grew. Was she enough of a warrior to appreciate that? To understand that a piece of his heart would always belong to Nico?
“Everything okay?” Nico asked, seeing more than Damian wanted to reveal. But then, he’d always been able to do that.
“I don’t like leaving Cassandra alone.”
Nico tipped his head curiously. “You like her.”
Damian shrugged. “It’s not fair to keep this from her.” He gestured between the two of them. “She won’t understand why we deceived her, and she may not forgive. You’re the one who warned me about her distrust of the men in her life.”
“She might not forgive me, but she’ll forgive you, my brother. You’re hard to hold a grudge against.”
Damian wasn’t sure he agreed with that. “I’m telling her when I go back upstairs.”
Nico laughed. “You really like her. Has a woman captured your legendary cold heart at last?”
Damian grinned abruptly. “My heart might have been cold, but my bed never was.”
His brother gripped his shoulder hard. “Your heart was never cold, Damian. You just never found anyone worth giving it to.”
Damian didn’t want to discuss his feelings for Cassandra. He wasn’t even sure what they were yet. So, he changed the subject. “I found something for you. It’s the only reason I didn’t bring Cassandra with me tonight. We were at one of Sotiris’s safe houses, looking for the Talisman. Cassandra knew the moment she stepped inside that the Talisman wasn’t there, but we found a vault-like room that served as a treasury of sorts. She was certain the room contained items important to Sotiris, but only of secondary value. I agreed for the most part, but then I found something he’d never have left behind on purpose. I suspect it was shoved aside by accident when the more valuable items were being loaded for transport elsewhere.”
“Are you going to tell me what it is?” Nico asked dryly. “Something useful, I hope, because—” He sucked in a breath when he saw what Damian held in his hand. “Fuck me,” he swore reverently. His hands shook when he reached for it, his knuckles whitening when he gripped the sides of the small chest, until Damian feared the ancient wood would crack.
“They’re all there,” Damian said quietly.
Nico opened the chest and touched the items contained inside, brushing his fingers over each in turn. There were four of them, one for each of the warriors Nico had lost to Sotiris’s curse—the personal treasures that had been stolen by the traitor and sold to Sotiris. Items that were precious to the four warriors, but meaningless to anyone else. They’d been used as anchors, locking the curse irrevocably to each of the four men. Nico looked up, and there were tears in his eyes. “Do you know what this means?” he whispered.
Damian nodded. “Our brothers will soon be freed, and we’ll be whole once again.”
Nico barked out a short laugh. “Sotiris must be furious.”
“If he knows. He might not yet.”
“All the better. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when he learns of it, though. We might hear his scream all the way here.” He leaned down and placed the small chest, now closed and latched, on the seat of his car, stroking the wood like a lover.
“Sotiris may be closer than you surmise,” Damian commented. “Cassandra is convinced he means to target your O’Hare Airport with the Talisman.”
Nico’s attention sharpened. “Do you know where the artifact is now?”
“We surveyed a house your Lilia thought would be his staging area, but . . .” He was on the verge of telling Nico the tracking program was flawed, that Sotiris had laid a false trail for them to follow. But while his loyalty to his brother and fellow warrior was ancient and unbreakable, he’d discovered a growing loyalty to Cassandra as well. So he said nothing. It wasn’t his place to discuss the methods she used on her assignments for Nico. He shrugged instead. “There was no one there. Lilia is going deeper, as Cassandra would say, and we hope to have more information soon.”
Nico was giving him a bemused look, as if he knew better than Damian himself what the source of his reluctance was. “Go back to your warm woman, brother. But keep me informed. And tell Casey I’m staying in the area, just in case. I don’t want the two of you going up against Sotiris without me.”
They embraced again, holding tight for a long moment before pounding each other on the back and stepping away. “Tell Cassandra I said to be gentle with you.”
“I don’t think she cares what you say, brother,” Damian said, laughing. “Besides, I like it rough.”
“Don’t let her go up against him alone,” Nico said, his tone deadly serious. “Our Casey’s got an ego. It gets her in trouble sometimes.”
AN OBNOXIOUS trilling noise woke Casey from the best sleep she’d had in weeks. Her eyes opened on a nearly dark room, and she groaned. Yet another hotel room. Maybe it was time to go home for a while, maybe she should talk to Nick. . . . Shit!
She went from disoriented and half asleep to completely focused and wide awake in an instant. “Damian,” she said, slapping the mattress as she reached for the phone on her bedside. She grabbed the phone, turning to frown at the vacant spot beside her as she hit the answer button. “Lili, what’s up?” she asked as she turned on the light and stared around the empty room. Yes, empty. Where the fuck was Damian?
“Another house just went live, Case,” Lilia was saying. “But this one’s buried deep, multiple layers of ownership. Even if Damian’s right about the rest being a false trail, I don’t think Sotiris can suspect we’d know about this house.”
“Is it local?” Casey asked, climbing from the bed and walking around to the table where Damian had left his sword and jacket the previous night. Both were now gone.
“Even better,” Lilia said eagerly. “Or, you know, worse, depending on your perspective. This house is right under the O’Hare flight path.”
“Shit, okay.” Casey turned on more lights. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if Damian could be hiding under a piece of furniture. “Text me the address, and I’ll check it out. What time is it?” she asked, turning to stare at the red numbers on the bedside clock. Three in the morning. Where the fuck was Damian?
She caught sight of his laptop open on the table. Had he used it before he left? Hell, she was probably making something out of nothing. Maybe he’d needed some fresh air. The fact that he’d taken his sword meant nothing; he took that thing with him everywhere. Still . . . she hit the power key on Damian’s laptop, bringing it to life. For all his criticism of her password earlier, he hadn’t gotten around to adding one of his own. Which meant that the last page he’d been on came up when the screen lit. It was the messaging program, which she thought was odd. She le
aned forward to read the last entry, ignoring a twinge of guilt. She really shouldn’t be reading the man’s messages without permission. But then, he should password-protect his computer if he wanted privacy, she thought, and recognized it for what it was . . . a rationalization that let her read the damn note.
“Are you all right?” Lilia asked over the phone. “You sound distracted.”
“Fine. Just tired, but I’ll be okay after a cup of coffee.” Her phone pinged with an incoming text from Lilia, which gave her the address of the latest house. “I got your text,” she said. “I’ll check it out and get back to you.”
“Okay, but you be especially careful on this one, Case. If this is the real deal. . . . Maybe I should conference Nick in on this one.”
Casey stared at the message history on Damian’s computer. “Not yet,” she said, struggling to keep the bitterness from her voice. “I’ll call him if it pans out. No sense wasting his time.”
“You sure you’re okay? You really do sound funny.”
“I’m fine, Lili. I’ll call as soon as I know something, okay? Talk to you later.”
She hung up before her friend could probe any further. Lilia was all too good at worming information out of people, and Casey had never been a good liar. Two more minutes and she might have been sobbing her heart out. What was it with her and men anyway? Why did she always fall for the good-looking jerks? Or maybe she was the jerk. No, just the idiot. While she worked with Lilia, stressing over Sotiris’s next step, and terrified they wouldn’t discover it in time, Nick and Damian were out somewhere indulging in a secret bromance. What a good chuckle they must have gotten out of her insistence that she needed to protect Nick from Damian. And her idea that he might be a spy, a mole sent in by Sotiris? How the two of them must have laughed at that one. Well, fuck Damian, and fuck Nick, too.
The Stone Warriors: Damian Page 27
